diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/50382-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/50382-0.txt | 17986 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 17986 deletions
diff --git a/old/50382-0.txt b/old/50382-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 57dcf95..0000000 --- a/old/50382-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,17986 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's Mental Evolution in Man, by George John Romanes - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Mental Evolution in Man - Origin of Human Faculty - -Author: George John Romanes - -Release Date: November 4, 2015 [EBook #50382] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN *** - - - - -Produced by Giovanni Fini, Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe and -the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES: - -—Obvious print and punctuation errors were corrected. - -—Superscripts have been rendered as a^b or a^{bc}. - -—Subscripts have been rendered as a_{b}. - -—Bold text has been rendered as =bold text=. - - - - - MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN - - - - - BY THE SAME AUTHOR. - - - _Crown 8vo. 5s._ - - =JELLY-FISH, STAR-FISH, AND SEA-URCHINS.= - - Being a Research on Primitive Nervous Systems. - - [_International Scientific Series._ - - - _Crown 8vo. 5s._ - - =ANIMAL INTELLIGENCE.= - - Fourth Edition. - - [_International Scientific Series._ - - - _Demy 8vo. 12s._ - - =MENTAL EVOLUTION IN ANIMALS.= - - Second Thousand. - - With a Posthumous Essay on Instinct by CHARLES DARWIN, F.R.S. - - LONDON: KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH & CO. - -[Illustration] - - - MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN - - _ORIGIN OF HUMAN FACULTY_ - - BY - GEORGE JOHN ROMANES, M.A., LL.D., F.R.S. - -[Illustration: LOGO] - - LONDON - KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH & CO., 1, PATERNOSTER SQUARE - 1888 - - - - - (_The rights of translation and of reproduction are reserved._) - - - - -PREFACE. - - -In now carrying my study of mental evolution into the province of human -psychology, it is desirable that I should say a few words to indicate -the scope and intention of this the major portion of my work. For it is -evident that “Mental Evolution in Man” is a subject comprehending so -enormous a field that, unless some lines of limitation are drawn within -which its discussion is to be confined, no one writer could presume to -deal with it. - -The lines, then, which I have laid down for my own guidance are these. -My object is to seek for the principles and causes of mental evolution -in man, first as regards the origin of human faculty, and next as -regards the several main branches into which faculties distinctively -human afterwards ramified and developed. In order as far as possible -to gain this object, it has appeared to me desirable to take large -or general views, both of the main trunk itself, and also of its -sundry branches. Therefore I have throughout avoided the temptation -of following any of the branches into their smaller ramifications, or -of going into the details of progressive development. These, I have -felt, are matters to be dealt with by others who are severally better -qualified for the task, whether their special studies have reference to -language, archæology, technicology, science, literature, art, politics, -morals, or religion. But, in so far as I shall subsequently have to -deal with these subjects, I will do so with the purpose of arriving -at general principles bearing upon mental evolution, rather than with -that of collecting facts or opinions for the sake of their intrinsic -interest from a purely historical point of view. - -Finding that the labour required for the investigation, even as thus -limited, is much greater than I originally anticipated, it appears -to me undesirable to delay publication until the whole shall have -been completed. I have therefore decided to publish the treatise in -successive instalments, of which the present constitutes the first. As -indicated by the title, it is concerned exclusively with the Origin -of Human Faculty. Future instalments will deal with the Intellect, -Emotions, Volition, Morals, and Religion. It will, however, be several -years before I shall be in a position to publish these succeeding -instalments, notwithstanding that some of them are already far advanced. - -Touching the present instalment, it is only needful to remark that from -a controversial point of view it is, perhaps, the most important. If -once the genesis of conceptual thought from non-conceptual antecedents -be rendered apparent, the great majority of competent readers at -the present time would be prepared to allow that the psychological -barrier between the brute and the man is shown to have been overcome. -Consequently, I have allotted what might otherwise appear to be a -disproportionate amount of space to my consideration of this the -_origin_ of human faculty—disproportionate, I mean, as compared -with what has afterwards to be said touching the _development_ of -human faculty in its several branches already named. Moreover, in the -present treatise I shall be concerned chiefly with the psychology of -my subject—reserving for my next instalment a full consideration of -the light which has been shed on the mental and social condition of -early man by the study of his own remains on the one hand, and of -existing savages on the other. Even as thus restricted, however, the -subject-matter of the present treatise will be found more extensive -than most persons would have been prepared to expect. For it does not -appear to me that this subject-matter has hitherto received at the -hands of psychologists any approach to the amount of analysis of -which it is susceptible, and to which—in view of the general theory -of evolution—it is unquestionably entitled. But I have everywhere -endeavoured to avoid undue prolixity, trusting that the intelligence -of any one who is likely to read the book will be able to appreciate -the significance of important points, without the need of expatiation -on the part of the writer. The only places, therefore, where I feel -that I may be fairly open to the charge of unnecessary reiteration, are -those in which I am endeavouring to render fully intelligible the newer -features of my analysis. But even here I do not anticipate that readers -of any class will complain of the efforts which are thus made to assist -their understanding of a somewhat complicated matter. - -As no one has previously gone into this matter, I have found myself -obliged to coin a certain number of new terms, for the purpose at -once of avoiding continuous circumlocution, and of rendering aid to -the analytic inquiry. For my own part I regret this necessity, and -therefore have not resorted to it save where I have found the force of -circumstances imperative. In the result, I do not think that adverse -criticism is likely to fasten upon any of these new terms as needless -for the purposes of my inquiry. Every worker is free to choose his own -instruments; and when none are ready-made to suit his requirements, he -has no alternative but to fashion those which may. - -To any one who already accepts the general theory of evolution as -applied to the human mind, it may well appear that the present -instalment of my work is needlessly elaborate. Now, I can quite -sympathize with any evolutionist who may thus feel that I have brought -steam-engines to break butterflies; but I must ask such a man to -remember two things. First, that plain and obvious as the truth may -seem to him, it is nevertheless a truth that is very far from having -received general recognition, even among more intelligent members of -the community: seeing, therefore, of how much importance it is to -establish this truth as an integral part of the doctrine of descent, -I cannot think that either time or energy is wasted in a serious -endeavour to do so, even though to minds already persuaded it may -seem unnecessary to have slain our opponents in a manner quite so -mercilessly minute. Secondly, I must ask these friendly critics to take -note that, although the discussion has everywhere been thrown into the -form of an answer to objections, it really has a much wider scope: it -aims not only at an overthrow of adversaries, but also, and even more, -at an exposition of the principles which have probably been concerned -in the “Origin of Human Faculty.” - -The Diagram which is reproduced from my previous work on “Mental -Evolution in Animals,” and which serves to represent the leading -features of psychogenesis throughout the animal kingdom, will reappear -also in succeeding instalments of the work, when it will be continued -so as to represent the principal stages of “Mental Evolution in Man.” - - 18, CORNWALL TERRACE, REGENT’S PARK, - _July, 1888_. - - - - -CONTENTS. - - - CHAPTER PAGE - - I. MAN AND BRUTE 1 - - II. IDEAS 20 - - III. LOGIC OF RECEPTS 40 - - IV. LOGIC OF CONCEPTS 70 - - V. LANGUAGE 85 - - VI. TONE AND GESTURE 104 - - VII. ARTICULATION 121 - - VIII. RELATION OF TONE AND GESTURE TO WORDS 145 - - IX. SPEECH 163 - - X. SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS 194 - - XI. THE TRANSITION IN THE INDIVIDUAL 213 - - XII. COMPARATIVE PHILOLOGY 238 - - XIII. ROOTS OF LANGUAGE 264 - - XIV. THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY 294 - - XV. THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY—_continued_ 326 - - XVI. THE TRANSITION IN THE RACE 360 - - XVII. GENERAL SUMMARY AND CONCLUDING REMARKS 390 - - - - -MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -MAN AND BRUTE. - - -Taking up the problems of psychogenesis where these were left in my -previous work, I have in the present treatise to consider the whole -scope of mental evolution in man. Clearly the topic thus presented -is so large, that in one or other of its branches it might be taken -to include the whole history of our species, together with our -pre-historic development from lower forms of life, as already indicated -in the Preface. However, it is not my intention to write a history -of civilization, still less to develop any elaborate hypothesis of -anthropogeny. My object is merely to carry into an investigation of -human psychology a continuation of the principles which I have already -applied to the attempted elucidation of animal psychology. I desire to -show that in the one province, as in the other, the light which has -been shed by the doctrine of evolution is of a magnitude which we are -now only beginning to appreciate; and that by adopting the theory of -continuous development from the one order of mind to the other, we are -able scientifically to explain the whole mental constitution of man, -even in those parts of it which, to former generations, have appeared -inexplicable. - -In order to accomplish this purpose, it is not needful that I should -seek to enter upon matters of detail in the application of those -principles to the facts of history. On the contrary, I think that -any such endeavour—even were I qualified to make it—would tend only -to obscure my exposition of those principles themselves. It is enough -that I should trace the operation of such principles, as it were, in -outline, and leave to the professed historian the task of applying them -in special cases. - -The present work being thus a treatise on human psychology in relation -of the theory of descent, the first question which it must seek to -attack is clearly that as to the evidence of the mind of man having -been derived from mind as we meet with it in the lower animals. And -here, I think, it is not too much to say that we approach a problem -which is not merely the most interesting of those that have fallen -within the scope of my own works; but perhaps the most interesting -that has ever been submitted to the contemplation of our race. If it -is true that “the proper study of mankind is man,” assuredly the study -of nature has never before reached a territory of thought so important -in all its aspects as that which in our own generation it is for the -first time approaching. After centuries of intellectual conquest in -all regions of the phenomenal universe, man has at last begun to -find that he may apply in a new and most unexpected manner the adage -of antiquity—_Know thyself_. For he has begun to perceive a strong -probability, if not an actual certainty, that his own living nature is -identical in kind with the nature of all other life, and that even the -most amazing side of this his own nature—nay, the most amazing of all -things within the reach of his knowledge—the human mind itself, is but -the topmost inflorescence of one mighty growth, whose roots and stem -and many branches are sunk in the abyss of planetary time. Therefore, -with Professor Huxley we may say:—“The importance of such an inquiry -is indeed intuitively manifest. Brought face to face with these blurred -copies of himself, the least thoughtful of men is conscious of a -certain shock, due perhaps not so much to disgust at the aspect of -what looks like an insulting caricature, as to the awaking of a sudden -and profound mistrust of time-honoured theories and strongly rooted -prejudices regarding his own position in nature, and his relations -to the wider world of life; while that which remains a dim suspicion -for the unthinking, becomes a vast argument, fraught with the deepest -consequences, for all who are acquainted with the recent progress of -anatomical and physiological sciences.”[1] - -The problem, then, which in this generation has for the first time been -presented to human thought, is the problem of how this thought itself -has come to be. A question of the deepest importance to every system -of philosophy has been raised by the study of biology; and it is the -question whether the mind of man is essentially the same as the mind of -the lower animals, or, having had, either wholly or in part, some other -mode of origin, is essentially distinct—differing not only in degree -but in kind from all other types of psychical being. And forasmuch as -upon this great and deeply interesting question opinions are still much -divided—even among those most eminent in the walks of science who -agree in accepting the principles of evolution as applied to explain -the mental constitution of the lower animals,—it is evident that the -question is neither a superficial nor an easy one. I shall, however, -endeavour to examine it with as little obscurity as possible, and also, -I need hardly say, with all the impartiality of which I am capable,[2] - -It will be remembered that in the introductory chapter of my previous -work I have already briefly sketched the manner in which I propose to -treat this question. Here, therefore, it is sufficient to remark that -I began by assuming the truth of the general theory of descent so far -as the animal kingdom is concerned, both with respect to bodily and to -mental organization; but in doing this I expressly excluded the mental -organization of man, as being a department of comparative psychology -with reference to which I did not feel entitled to assume the -principles of evolution. The reason why I made this special exception, -I sufficiently explained; and I shall therefore now proceed, without -further introduction, to a full consideration of the problem that is -before us. - - * * * * * - -First, let us consider the question on purely _a priori_ grounds. In -accordance with our original hypothesis—upon which all naturalists of -any standing are nowadays agreed—the process of organic and of mental -evolution has been continuous throughout the whole region of life and -of mind, with the one exception of the mind of man. On grounds of -analogy, therefore, we should deem it antecedently improbable that the -process of evolution, elsewhere so uniform and ubiquitous, should have -been interrupted at its terminal phase. And looking to the very large -extent of this analogy, the antecedent presumption which it raises is -so considerable, that in my opinion it could only be counterbalanced by -some very cogent and unmistakable facts, showing a difference between -animal and human psychology so distinctive as to render it in the -nature of the case virtually impossible that the one could ever have -graduated into the other. This I posit as the first consideration. - -Next, still restricting ourselves to an _a priori_ view, it is -unquestionable that human psychology, in the case of every individual -human being, presents to actual observation a process of gradual -development, or evolution, extending from infancy to manhood; and that -in this process, which begins at a zero level of mental life and may -culminate in genius, there is nowhere and never observable a sudden -leap of progress, such as the passage from one order of psychical -being to another might reasonably be expected to show. Therefore, it -is a matter of observable fact that, whether or not human intelligence -differs from animal in kind, it certainly does admit of gradual -development from a zero level. This I posit as the second consideration. - -Again, so long as it is passing through the lower phases of its -development, the human mind assuredly ascends through a scale of -mental faculties which are parallel with those that are permanently -presented by the psychological species of the animal kingdom. A glance -at the Diagram which I have placed at the beginning of my previous -work will serve to show in how strikingly quantitative, as well as -qualitative, a manner the development of an individual human mind -follows the order of mental evolution in the animal kingdom. And when -we remember that, at all events up to the level where this parallel -ends, the diagram in question is not an expression of any psychological -theory, but of well-observed and undeniable psychological fact, I think -every reasonable man must allow that, whatever the explanation of -this remarkable coincidence may be, it certainly must admit of _some_ -explanation—_i.e._ cannot be ascribed to mere chance. But, if so, the -only explanation available is that which is furnished by the theory of -descent. These facts, which I present as a third consideration, tend -still further—and, I think, most strongly—to increase the force of -antecedent presumption against any hypothesis which supposes that the -process of evolution can have been discontinuous in the region of mind. - -Lastly, it is likewise a matter of observation, as I shall fully -show in the next instalment of this work, that in the history of our -race—as recorded in documents, traditions, antiquarian remains, and -flint implements—the intelligence of the race has been subject to a -steady process of gradual development. The force of this consideration -lies in its proving, that if the process of mental evolution was -suspended between the anthropoid apes and primitive man, it was again -resumed with primitive man, and has since continued as uninterruptedly -in the human species as it previously did in the animal species. -Now, upon the face of these facts, or from a merely antecedent point -of view, such appears to me, to say the least, a highly improbable -supposition. At all events, it certainly is not the kind of supposition -which men of science are disposed to regard with favour elsewhere; for -a long and arduous experience has taught us that the most paying kind -of supposition which we can bring with us into our study of nature, is -that which recognizes in nature the principle of _continuity_. - -Taking, then, these several _a priori_ considerations together, they -must, in my opinion, be fairly held to make out a very strong _primâ -facie_ case in favour of the view that there has been no interruption -of the developmental process in the course of psychological history; -but that the mind of man, like the mind of animals—and, indeed, like -everything else in the domain of living nature—has been evolved. For -these considerations show, not only that on analogical grounds any such -interruption must be held as in itself improbable; but also that there -is nothing in the constitution of the human mind incompatible with the -supposition of its having been slowly evolved, seeing that not only in -the case of every individual life, but also during the whole history -of our species, the human mind actually _does_ undergo, and _has_ -undergone, the process in question. - -In order to overturn so immense a presumption as is thus erected on -_a priori_ grounds, the psychologist must fairly be called upon to -supply some very powerful considerations of an _a posteriori_ kind, -tending to show that there is something in the constitution of the -human mind which renders it virtually impossible—or at all events -exceedingly difficult to imagine—that it can have proceeded by way of -genetic descent from mind of lower orders. I shall therefore proceed to -consider, as carefully and as impartially as I can, the arguments which -have been adduced in support of this thesis. - - * * * * * - -In the introductory chapter of my previous work I observed, that the -question whether or not human intelligence has been evolved from animal -intelligence can only be dealt with scientifically by comparing the one -with the other, in order to ascertain the points wherein they agree -and the points wherein they differ. I shall, therefore, here begin -by briefly stating the points of agreement, and then proceed more -carefully to consider all the more important views which have hitherto -been propounded concerning the points of difference. - -If we have regard to Emotions as these occur in the brute, we cannot -fail to be struck by the broad fact that the area of psychology which -they cover is so nearly co-extensive with that which is covered by the -emotional faculties of man. In my previous works I have given what I -consider unquestionable evidence of all the following emotions, which -I here name in the order of their appearance through the psychological -scale,—fear, surprise, affection, pugnacity, curiosity, jealousy, -anger, play, sympathy, emulation, pride, resentment, emotion of the -beautiful, grief, hate, cruelty, benevolence, revenge, rage, shame, -regret, deceitfulness, emotion of the ludicrous.[3] - -Now, this list exhausts all the human emotions, with the exception -of those which refer to religion, moral sense, and perception of the -sublime. Therefore I think we are fully entitled to conclude that, so -far as emotions are concerned, it cannot be said that the facts of -animal psychology raise any difficulties against the theory of descent. -On the contrary, the emotional life of animals is so strikingly similar -to the emotional life of man—and especially of young children—that I -think the similarity ought fairly to be taken as direct evidence of a -genetic continuity between them. - -And so it is with regard to Instinct. Understanding this term in -the sense previously defined,[4] it is unquestionably true that in -man—especially during the periods of infancy and youth—sundry -well-marked instincts are presented, which have reference chiefly to -nutrition, self-preservation, reproduction, and the rearing of progeny. -No one has ventured to dispute that all these instincts are identical -with those which we observe in the lower animals; nor, on the other -hand, has any one ventured to suggest that there is any instinct which -can be said to be peculiar to man, unless the moral and religious -sentiments are taken to be of the nature of instincts. And although it -is true that instinct plays a larger part in the psychology of many -animals than it does in the psychology of man, this fact is plainly of -no importance in the present connection, where we are concerned only -with identity of principle. If any one were childish enough to argue -that the mind of a man differs in kind from that of a brute because -it does not display any particular instinct—such, for example, as -the spinning of webs, the building of nests, or the incubation of -eggs,—the answer of course would be that, by parity of reasoning, the -mind of a spider must be held to differ in kind from that of a bird. So -far, then, as instincts and emotions are concerned, the parallel before -us is much too close to admit of any argument on the opposite side. - -With regard to Volition more will be said in a future instalment of -this work. Here, therefore, it is enough to say, in general terms, -that no one has seriously questioned the identity of kind between the -animal and the human will, up to the point at which so-called freedom -is supposed by some dissentients to supervene and characterize the -latter. Now, of course, if the human will differs from the animal will -in any important feature or attribute such as this, the fact must be -duly taken into account during the course of our subsequent analysis. -At present, however, we are only engaged upon a preliminary sketch of -the points of resemblance between animal and human psychology. So far, -therefore, as we are now concerned with the will, we have only to note -that up to the point where the volitions of a man begin to surpass -those of a brute in respect of complexity, refinement, and foresight, -no one disputes identity of kind. - -Lastly, the same remark applies to the faculties of Intellect.[5] -Enormous as the difference undoubtedly is between these faculties -in the two cases, the difference is conceded not to be one of kind -_ab initio_. On the contrary, it is conceded that up to a certain -point—namely, as far as the highest degree of intelligence to which -an animal attains—there is not merely a similarity of kind, but an -identity of correspondence. In other words, the parallel between -animal and human intelligence which is presented in my Diagram, and to -which allusion has already been made, is not disputed. The question, -therefore, only arises with reference to those superadded faculties -which are represented above the level marked 28, where the upward -growth of animal intelligence ends, and the growth of distinctively -human intelligence begins. But even at level 28 the human mind is -already in possession of many of its most useful faculties, and these -it does not afterwards shed, but carries them upwards with it in the -course of its further development—as we well know by observing the -psychogenesis of every child. Now, it belongs to the very essence of -evolution, considered as a process, that when one order of existence -passes on to higher grades of excellence, it does so upon the -foundation already laid by the previous course of its progress; so that -when compared with any allied order of existence which has not been -carried so far in this upward course, a more or less close parallel -admits of being traced between the two, up to the point at which -the one begins to distance the other, where all further comparison -admittedly ends. Therefore, upon the face of them, the facts of -comparative psychology now before us are, to say the least, strongly -suggestive of the superadded powers of the human intellect having been -due to a process of evolution. - -Lest it should be thought that in this preliminary sketch of -the resemblances between human and brute psychology I have been -endeavouring to draw the lines with a biased hand, I will here quote -a short passage to show that I have not misrepresented the extent -to which agreement prevails among adherents of otherwise opposite -opinions. And for this purpose I select as spokesman a distinguished -naturalist, who is also an able psychologist, and to whom, therefore, -I shall afterwards have occasion frequently to refer, as on both these -accounts the most competent as well as the most representative of my -opponents. In his Presidential Address before the Biological Section of -the British Association in 1879, Mr. Mivart is reported to have said:— - -“I have no wish to ignore the marvellous powers of animals, or the -resemblance of their actions to those of man. No one can reasonably -deny that many of them have feelings, emotions, and sense-perceptions -similar to our own; that they exercise voluntary motion, and perform -actions grouped in complex ways for definite ends; that they to a -certain extent learn by experience, and combine perceptions and -reminiscences so as to draw practical inferences, directly apprehending -objects standing in different relations one to another, so that, in -a sense, they may be said to apprehend relations. They will show -hesitation, ending apparently, after a conflict of desires, with what -looks like choice or volition; and such animals as the dog will not -only exhibit the most marvellous fidelity and affection, but will -also manifest evident signs of shame, which may seem the outcome of -incipient moral perceptions. It is no great wonder, then, that so many -persons, little given to patient and careful introspection, should fail -to perceive any radical distinction between a nature thus gifted and -the intellectual nature of man.” - - * * * * * - -We may now turn to consider the points wherein human and brute -psychology have been by various writers alleged to differ. - -The theory that brutes are non-sentient machines need not detain us, -as no one at the present day is likely to defend it.[6] Again, the -distinction between human and brute psychology that has always been -taken more or less for granted—namely, that the one is rational and -the other irrational—may likewise be passed over after what has been -said in the chapter on Reason in my previous work. For it is there -shown that if we use the term Reason in its true, as distinguished -from its traditional sense, there is no fact in animal psychosis more -patent than that this psychosis is capable in no small degree of -_ratiocination_. The source of the very prevalent doctrine that animals -have no germ of reason is, I think, to be found in the fact that reason -attains a much higher level of development in man than in animals, -while instinct attains a higher development in animals than in man: -popular phraseology, therefore, disregarding the points of similarity -while exaggerating the more conspicuous points of difference, -designates all the mental faculties of the animal instinctive, in -contradistinction to those of man, which are termed rational. But -unless we commit ourselves to an obvious reasoning in a circle, we must -avoid assuming that all actions of animals are instinctive, and then -arguing that, because they are instinctive, therefore they differ in -kind from those actions of man which are rational. The question really -lies in what is here assumed, and can only be answered by examining -in what essential respect instinct differs from reason. This I have -endeavoured to do in my previous work with as much precision as the -nature of the subject permits; and I think I have made it evident, in -the first place, that there is no such immense distinction between -instinct and reason as is generally assumed—the former often being -blended with the latter, and the latter as often becoming transmuted -into the former,—and, in the next place, that all the higher animals -manifest in various degrees the faculty of inferring. Now, _this is the -faculty of reason, properly so called_; and although it is true that in -no case does it attain in animal psychology to more than a rudimentary -phase of development as contrasted with its prodigious growth in man, -this is clearly quite another matter where the question before us is -one concerning difference of kind.[7] - -Again, the theological distinction between men and animals may be -passed over, because it rests on a dogma with which the science of -psychology has no legitimate point of contact. Whether or not the -conscious part of man differs from the conscious part of animals in -being immortal, and whether or not the “spirit” of man differs from -the “soul” of animals in other particulars of kind, dogma itself would -maintain that science has no voice in either affirming or denying. -For, from the nature of the case, any information of a positive kind -relating to these matters can only be expected to come by way of a -Revelation; and, therefore, however widely dogma and science may differ -on other points, they are at least agreed upon this one—namely, if the -conscious life of man differs thus from the conscious life of brutes, -Christianity and Philosophy alike proclaim that only by a Gospel could -its endowment of immortality have been brought to light.[8] - -Another distinction between the man and the brute which we often find -asserted is, that the latter shows no signs of mental progress in -successive generations. On this alleged distinction I may remark, -first of all, that it begs the whole question of mental evolution in -animals, and, therefore, is directly opposed to the whole body of facts -presented in my work upon this subject. In the next place, I may remark -that the alleged distinction comes with an ill grace from opponents of -evolution, seeing that it depends upon a recognition of the principles -of evolution in the history of mankind. But, leaving aside these -considerations, I meet the alleged distinction with a plain denial of -both the statements of fact on which it rests. That is to say, I deny -on the one hand that mental progress from generation to generation is -an invariable peculiarity of human intelligence; and, on the other -hand, I deny that such progress is never found to occur in the case of -animal intelligence. - -Taking these two points separately, I hold it to be a statement -opposed to fact to say, or to imply, that all existing savages, when -not brought into contact with civilized man, undergo intellectual -development from generation to generation. On the contrary, one of the -most generally applicable statements we can make with reference to the -psychology of uncivilized man is that it shows, in a remarkable degree, -what we may term a _vis inertiæ_ as regards upward movement. Even -so highly developed a type of mind as that of the Negro—submitted, -too, as it has been in millions of individual cases to close contact -with minds of the most progressive type, and enjoying as it has in -many thousands of individual cases all the advantages of liberal -education—has never, so far as I can ascertain, executed one single -stroke of original work in any single department of intellectual -activity. - -Again, if we look to the whole history of man upon this planet as -recorded by his remains, the feature which to my mind stands out -in most marked prominence is the almost incredible slowness of his -intellectual advance, during all the earlier millenniums of his -existence. Allowing full weight to the consideration that “the -Palæolithic age, referring as the phrase does to a stage of culture, -and not to any chronological period, is something which has come and -gone at very different dates in different parts of the world;”[9] -and that the same remark may be taken, in perhaps a smaller measure, -to apply to the Neolithic age; still, when we remember what enormous -lapses of time these ages may be roughly taken to represent, I think -it is a most remarkable fact that, during the many thousands of years -occupied by the former, the human mind should have practically made no -advance upon its primitive methods of chipping flints; or that during -the time occupied by the latter, this same mind should have been so -slow in arriving, for example, at even so simple an invention as that -of substituting horns for flints in the manufacture of weapons. In my -next volume, where I shall have to deal especially with the evidence -of intellectual evolution, I shall have to give many instances, all -tending to show its extraordinarily slow progress during these æons of -pre-historic time. Indeed, it was not until the great step had been -made of substituting metals for both stones and horns, that mental -evolution began to proceed at anything like a measurable rate. Yet -this was, as it were, but a matter of yesterday. So that, upon the -whole, if we have regard to the human species generally—whether over -the surface of the earth at the present time, or in the records of -geological history,—we can no longer maintain that a tendency to -improvement in successive generations is here a leading characteristic. -On the contrary, any improvement of so rapid and continuous a kind as -that which is really contemplated, is characteristic only of a small -division of the human race during the last few hours, as it were, of -its existence. - -On the other hand, as I have said, it is not true that animal species -never display any traces of intellectual improvement from generation -to generation. Were this the case, as already remarked, mental -evolution could never have taken place in the brute creation, and -so the phenomena of mind would have been wholly restricted to man: -all animals would have required to present but a vegetative form of -life. But, apart from this general consideration, we meet with many -particular instances of mental improvement in successive generations of -animals, taking place even within the limited periods over which human -observations can extend. In my previous work numerous cases will be -found (especially in the chapters on the plasticity and blended origin -of instincts), showing that it is quite a usual thing for birds and -mammals to change even the most strongly inherited of their instinctive -habits, in order to improve the conditions of their life in relation -to some change which has taken place in their environments. And if it -should be said that in such a case “the animal still does not rise -above the level of birdhood or of beasthood,” the answer, of course, -is, that neither does a Shakespeare or a Newton rise above the level of -manhood. - -On the whole, then, I cannot see that there is any valid distinction to -be drawn between human and brute psychology with respect to improvement -from generation to generation. Indeed, I should deem it almost more -philosophical in any opponent of the theory of evolution, who happened -to be acquainted with the facts bearing upon the subject, if he were to -adopt the converse position, and argue that for the purposes of this -theory there is _not a sufficient_ distinction between human and brute -psychology in this respect. For when we remember the great advance -which, according to the theory of evolution, the mind of palæolithic -man must already have made upon that of the higher apes, and when we -remember that all races of existing men have the immense advantage of -some form of language whereby to transmit to progeny the results of -individual experience,—when we remember these things, the difficulty -appears to me to lie on the side of explaining why, with such a start -and with such advantages, the human species, both when it first appears -upon the pages of geological history, and as it now appears in the -great majority of its constituent races, should so far resemble animal -species in the prolonged stagnation of its intellectual life. - -I shall now pass on to consider the views of Mr. Wallace and Mr. -Mivart on the distinction between the mental endowments of man and of -brute. Both these authors are skilled naturalists, and also professed -evolutionists so far as the animal world is concerned: moreover, they -further agree in maintaining that the principles of evolution cannot -be held to apply to man. But it is curious that, so far as psychology -is concerned, they base their arguments in support of their common -conclusion on precisely opposite premisses. For while Mr. Mivart -argues that human intelligence cannot be the same in kind as animal -intelligence, because the mind of the lowest savage is incomparably -superior to that of the highest ape; Mr. Wallace argues for the same -conclusion on the ground that the intelligence of savages is so little -removed from that of the higher apes, that the fact of their brains -being proportionately larger must be held to point prospectively -towards the needs of civilized life. “A brain,” he says, “slightly -larger than that of the gorilla would, according to the evidence before -us, fully have sufficed for the limited mental development of the -savage; and we must therefore admit that the large brain he actually -possesses could never have been developed solely by any of the laws of -evolution.”[10] - -Now, I have presented these two opinions side by side because I deem it -an interesting, if not a suggestive circumstance, that the two leading -dissenters in this country from the general school of evolutionists, -although both holding the doctrine that man ought to be separated -from the rest of the animal kingdom on psychological grounds, are -nevertheless led to their common doctrine by directly opposite reasons. - -The eminent French naturalist, Professor Quatrefages, also adopts -the opinion that man should be separated from the rest of the animal -kingdom as a being who, on psychological grounds, must be held to -have had some different mode of origin. But he differs from both -the English evolutionists in drawing his distinction somewhat more -finely. For while Mivart and Wallace found their arguments upon the -mind of man considered as a whole, Quatrefages expressly limits his -ground to the faculties of conscience and religion. In other words, he -allows—nay insists—that no valid distinction between man and brute -can be drawn in respect of rationality or intellect. For instance, to -take only one passage from his writings, he remarks:—“In the name of -philosophy and psychology, I shall be accused of confounding certain -intellectual attributes of the human reason with the exclusively -sensitive faculties of animals. I shall presently endeavour to answer -this criticism from the standpoint which should never be quitted by -the naturalist, that, namely, of experiment and observation. I shall -here confine myself to saying that, in my opinion, the animal is -intelligent, and, although an (intellectually) rudimentary being, that -its intelligence is nevertheless of the same nature as that of man.” -Later on he says:—“Psychologists attribute religion and morality to -the reason, and make the latter an attribute of man (to the exclusion -of animals). But with the reason they connect the highest phenomena of -the intelligence. In my opinion, in so doing they confound, and refer -to a common origin, facts entirely different. Thus, since they are -unable to recognize either morality or religion in animals, which in -reality do not possess these two faculties, they are forced to refuse -them intelligence also, although the same animals, in my opinion, give -decisive proof of their possession of this faculty every moment.”[11] - -Touching these views I have only two things to observe. In the first -place, they differ _toto cælo_ from those both of Mr. Wallace and Mr. -Mivart; and thus we now find that the _three_ principal authorities -who still stand out for a distinction of kind between man and brute -on grounds of psychology, far from being in agreement, are really in -fundamental opposition, seeing that they base their common conclusion -on premisses which are all mutually exclusive of one another. In the -next place, even if we were fully to agree with the opinion of the -French anthropologist, or hold that a distinction of kind has to be -drawn only at religion and morality, we should still be obliged to -allow—although this is a point which he does not himself appear -to have perceived—that the superiority of human intelligence is a -necessary _condition_ to both these attributes of the human mind. In -other words, whether or not Quatrefages is right in his view that -religion and morality betoken a difference of kind in the only animal -species which presents them, at least it is certain that neither of -these faculties could have occurred in that species, had it not also -been gifted with a greatly superior order of intelligence. For even the -most elementary forms of religion and morality depend upon ideas of a -much more abstract, or intellectual, nature than are to be met with -in any brute. Obviously, therefore, the first distinction that falls -to be considered is the intellectual distinction. If analysis should -show that the school represented by Quatrefages is right in regarding -this distinction as one of degree—and, therefore, that the school -represented by Mivart is wrong in regarding it as one of kind,—the -time will then have arrived to consider, in the same connection, these -special faculties of morality and religion. Such, therefore, is the -method that I intend to adopt. The whole of the present volume will -be devoted to a consideration of “the origin of human faculty” in -the larger sense of this term, or in accordance with the view that -distinctively human faculty begins with distinctively human ideation. -When this matter has been thoroughly discussed, the ground will have -been prepared for considering in subsequent volumes the more special -faculties of Morality and Religion.[12] - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -IDEAS.[13] - - -I now pass on to consider the only distinction which in my opinion -can be properly drawn between human and brute psychology. This is the -great distinction which furnishes a full psychological explanation of -all the many and immense differences that unquestionably do obtain -between the mind of the highest ape and the mind of the lowest savage. -It is, moreover, the distinction which is now universally recognized -by psychologists of every school, from the Romanist to the agnostic in -Religion, and from the idealist to the materialist in Philosophy. - -The distinction has been clearly enunciated by many writers, from -Aristotle downwards, but I may best render it in the words of Locke:— - -“If it may be doubted, whether beasts compound and enlarge their ideas -that way to any degree; this I think I may be positive in, that the -power of abstracting is not at all in them; and that the having of -general ideas is that which puts a perfect distinction betwixt man and -brutes, and is an excellency which the faculties of brutes do by no -means attain to. For it is evident we observe no footsteps in them of -making use of general signs for universal ideas; from which we have -reason to imagine, that they have not the faculty of abstracting, or -making general ideas, since they have no use of words, or any other -general signs. - -“Nor can it be imputed to their want of fit organs to frame articulate -sounds that they have no use or knowledge of general words; since -many of them, we find, can fashion such sounds, and pronounce words -distinctly enough, but never with any such application; and, on the -other side, men, who through some defect in the organs want words, -yet fail not to express their universal ideas by signs, which serve -them instead of general words; a faculty which we see beasts come -short in. And therefore I think we may suppose, that it is in this -that the species of brutes are discriminated from men; and it is that -proper difference wherein they are wholly separated, and which at -last widens to so vast a distance; for if they have any ideas at all, -and are not bare machines (as some would have them), we cannot deny -them to have some reason. It seems evident to me, that they do some -of them in certain instances reason, as that they have sense; but it -is only in particular ideas, just as they received them from their -senses. They are the best of them tied up within those narrow bounds, -and have not (as I think) the faculty to enlarge them by any kind of -abstraction.”[14] - -Here, then, we have stated, with all the common-sense lucidity of this -great writer, what we may term the initial or basal distinction of -which we are in search: it is that “proper difference” which, narrow -at first as the space included between two lines of rails at their -point of divergence, “at last widens to so vast a distance” as to end -almost at the opposite poles of mind. For, by a continuous advance -along the same line of development, the human mind is enabled to think -about abstractions of its own making, which are more and more remote -from the sensuous perception of concrete objects; it can unite these -abstractions into an endless variety of ideal combinations; these, in -turn, may become elaborated into ideal constructions of a more and -more complex character; and so on until we arrive at the full powers -of introspective thought with which we are each one of us directly -cognisant. - - * * * * * - -We now approach what is at once a matter of refined analysis, and a -set of questions which are of fundamental importance to the whole -superstructure of the present work. I mean the nature of abstraction, -and the classification of ideas. No small amount of ambiguity still -hangs about these important subjects, and in treating of them it is -impossible to employ terms the meanings of which are agreed upon by all -psychologists. But I will carefully define the meanings which I attach -to these terms myself, and which I think are the meanings that they -ought to bear. Moreover, I will end by adopting a classification which -is to some extent novel, and by fully giving my reasons for so doing. - -Psychologists are agreed that what they call particular ideas, or -ideas of particular objects, are of the nature of mental images, -or memories of such objects—as when the sound of a friend’s voice -brings before my mind the idea of that particular man. Psychologists -are further agreed that what they term general ideas arise out of an -assemblage of particular ideas, as when from my repeated observation -of numerous individual men I form the idea of Man, or of an abstract -being who comprises the resemblances between all these individual men, -without regard to their individual differences. Hence, particular -ideas answer to percepts, while general ideas answer to concepts: an -individual preception (or its repetition) gives rise to its mnemonic -equivalent as a particular idea; while a group of similar, though not -altogether similar perceptions, gives rise to its mnemonic equivalent -as a conception, which, therefore, is but another name for a general -idea, thus _generated_ by an assemblage of particular ideas. Just as -Mr. Galton’s method of superimposing on the same sensitive plate a -number of individual images gives rise to a blended photograph, wherein -each of the individual constituents is partially and proportionally -represented; so in the sensitive tablet of memory, numerous images of -previous perceptions are fused together into a single conception, which -then stands as a composite picture, or class-representation, of these -its constituent images. Moreover, in the case of a sensitive plate it -is only those particular images which present more or less numerous -points of resemblance that admit of being thus blended into a distinct -photograph; and so in the case of the mind, it is only those particular -ideas which admit of being run together in a class that can go to -constitute a clear concept.[15] - -So much, then, for ideas as particular and general. Next, the term -abstract has been used by different psychologists in different -senses. For my own part, I will adhere to the usage of Locke in the -passage above quoted, which is the usage adopted by the majority of -modern writers upon these subjects. According to this usage, the term -“abstract idea” is practically synonymous with the term “general -idea.” For the process of abstraction consists in mentally analysing -the complex which is presented by any given object of perception, and -ideally extracting those features or qualities upon which the attention -is for the time being directed. Even the most individual of objects -cannot fail to present an assemblage of qualities, and although it is -true that such an object could not be divided into all its constituent -qualities actually, it does admit of being so divided ideally. The -individual man whom I know as John Smith could not be disintegrated -into so much heat, flesh, bone, blood, colour, &c., without ceasing to -be a man at all; but this does not hinder that I may ideally abstract -his heat (by thinking of him as a corpse), his flesh, bones, and blood -(by thinking of him as a dissected “subject”), his white colour of -skin, his black colour of hair, and so forth. Now, it is evident that -in the last resort our power of forming general ideas, or concepts, -is dependent on this power of abstraction, or the power of ideally -separating one or more of the qualities presented by percepts, _i.e._ -by objects of particular ideas. My general idea of heat has only been -rendered possible on account of my having ideally abstracted the -quality of heat from sundry heated bodies, in most of which it has -co-existed with numberless different associations of other qualities. -But this does not hinder that, wherever I meet with that one quality, I -recognize it as the same; and hence I arrive at a general or abstract -idea of heat, apart from any other quality with which in particular -cases it may happen to be associated.[16] - -This faculty of ideal abstraction furnishes the _conditio sine quâ -non_ to all grades in the development of thought; for by it alone -can we compare idea with idea, and thus reach ever onwards to higher -and higher levels, as well as to more and more complex structures -of ideation. As to the history of this development we shall have -more to say presently. Meanwhile I desire only to remark two things -in connection with it. The first is that throughout this history -the development is a _development_: the faculty of abstraction is -everywhere the same in _kind_. And the next thing is that this -development is everywhere dependent on the faculty of _language_. A -great deal will require to be said on both these points in subsequent -chapters; but it is needful to state the facts thus early—and they -are facts which psychologists of all schools now accept,—in order -to render intelligible the next step which I am about to make in my -classification of ideas. This step is to distinguish between the -faculty of abstraction where it is not dependent upon language, -and where it is so dependent. I have just said that the faculty of -abstraction is _everywhere_ the same in kind; but, as I immediately -proceeded to affirm that the _development_ of abstraction is dependent -upon language, I have thus far left the question open whether or not -there can be any rudimentary abstraction without language. It is to -this question, therefore, that we must next address ourselves. - -On the one hand it may be argued that by restricting the term abstract -to ideas which can only be formed by the aid of language, we are -drawing an arbitrary line—fixing upon one degree in the continuous -scale of a faculty which is throughout the same in kind. For, say some -psychologists, it is evident that in our own case most of our more -simple abstract or general ideas are not dependent for their existence -upon words. Or, if this be disputed, these psychologists are able to -point to infants, and even to the lower animals, in proof of their -assertion. For an infant undoubtedly exhibits the possession of simple -general ideas prior to the possession of any articulate language; -and after it begins to use such language it does so by spontaneously -widening the generality of signification attaching to its original -words. In proof of both these statements numberless observations might -be quoted, and further on will be quoted; but here I need only wait -to give one in proof of each. As regards the first, Professor Preyer -tells us that at eight months old,[17] and therefore long before it -was able to speak, his child was able to classify all glass bottles -as resembling—or belonging to the order of—a feeding-bottle.[18] -As regards the second, M. Taine tells us of a little girl eighteen -months old, who was amused by her mother hiding in play behind a piece -of furniture, and saying “Coucou.” Again, when her food was too hot, -when she went too near the fire or candle, and when the sun was warm, -she was told “Ça brûle.” One day, on seeing the sun disappear behind -a hill, she exclaimed, “‘A b’ûle coucou,” thereby showing both the -formation and combination of general ideas, “not only expressed by -words which we do not employ (and, therefore, not by any other words -that she can have previously employed), but also corresponding to -ideas, _consequently to classes of objects and general characters_ -which in our cases have disappeared. The hot soup, the fire on the -hearth, the flame of the candle, the noonday heat in the garden, and -last of all, the sun, make up one of these classes. The figure of the -nurse or mother disappearing behind a hill, form the other class.”[19] - -Coming next to the case of brutes, and to begin with the simplest -kind of illustrations, all the higher animals have general ideas of -“Good-for-eating,” and “Not-good-for-eating,” quite apart from any -particular objects of which either of these qualities happens to be -characteristic. For, if we give any of the higher animals a morsel of -food of a kind which it has never before met with, the animal does -not immediately snap it up, nor does it immediately reject our offer; -but it subjects the morsel to a careful examination before consigning -it to the mouth. This proves, if anything can, that such an animal -has a general or abstract idea of sweet, bitter, hot, or, in general, -Good-for-eating and Not-good-for-eating—the motives of the examination -clearly being to ascertain which of these two general ideas of kind -is appropriate to the particular object examined. When we ourselves -select something which we suppose will prove good to eat, we do not -require to call to our aid any of that higher class of abstract ideas -for which we are indebted to our powers of language: it is enough to -determine our decision if the particular appearance, smell, or taste of -the food makes us feel that it probably conforms to our general idea -of Good-for-eating. And, therefore, when we see animals determining -between similar alternatives by precisely similar methods, we cannot -reasonably doubt that the psychological processes are similar; for, -as we know that these processes in ourselves do not involve any of -the higher powers of our minds, there is no reason to doubt that the -processes, which in their manifestations appear so similar, really -are what they appear to be—the same. Again, if I see a fox prowling -about a farm-yard, I infer that he has been led by hunger to go where -he has a general idea that there are a good many eatable things to be -fallen in with—just as I myself am led by a similar impulse to visit -a restaurant. Similarly, if I say to my dog the word “Cat,” I arouse -in his mind an idea, not of any cat in particular—for he sees so many -cats,—but of a Cat in general. Or when this same dog accidentally -crosses the track of a strange dog, the scent of this strange dog makes -him stiffen his tail and erect the hair on his back in preparation for -a fight; yet the scent of an unknown dog must arouse in his mind, not -the idea of any dog in particular, but an idea of the animal Dog in -general. - -Thus far, it will be remembered, I have been presenting evidence in -favour of the view that both infants and animals show themselves -capable of forming general ideas of a simple order, and, therefore, -that to the formation of such ideas the use of language is not -essential. I will next consider what has to be said on the other -side of the question; for, as previously remarked, many—I may say -most—psychologists repudiate this kind of evidence _in toto_, as not -germain to the subject of debate. First, therefore, I will consider -their objections to this kind of evidence; next I will sum up the whole -question; and, lastly, I will suggest a classification of ideas which -in my opinion ought to be accepted by both sides as constituting a -common ground of reconciliation. - -To begin with another quotation from Locke, “How far brutes partake -in this faculty [_i.e._ that of comparing ideas] is not easy to -determine; I imagine they have it not in any great degree: for though -they probably have several ideas distinct enough, yet it seems to me -to be the prerogative of human understanding, when it has sufficiently -distinguished any ideas, so as to perceive them to be perfectly -different, and so consequently two, to cast about and consider in what -circumstances they are capable to be compared: and therefore I think -beasts compare not their ideas further than some sensible circumstances -annexed to the objects themselves. The other power of comparing, which -may be observed in men, belonging to general ideas, and useful only to -abstract reasonings, we may probably conjecture beasts have not. - -“The next operation we may observe in the mind about its ideas, is -composition; whereby it puts together several of those simple ones it -has received from sensation and reflection, and combines them into -complex ones. Under this head of composition may be reckoned also that -of enlarging; wherein, though the composition does not so much appear -as in more complex ones, yet it is nevertheless a putting several -ideas together, though of the same kind. Thus, by adding several units -together, we make the idea of a dozen; and by putting together the -repeated ideas of several perches, we frame that of a furlong. - -“In this, also, I suppose, brutes come far short of men; for though -they take in, and retain together several combinations of simple ideas, -as possibly the shape, smell, and voice of his master make up the -complex idea a dog has of him, or rather are so many distinct marks -whereby he knows him; yet I do not think they do of themselves ever -compound them, and make complex ideas. And perhaps even where we think -they have complex ideas, it is only one simple one that directs them -in the knowledge of several things, which possibly they distinguish -less by sight than we imagine; for I have been credibly informed that -a bitch will nurse, play with, and be fond of young foxes, as much as, -and in place of, her puppies; if you can but get them once to suck her -so long, that her milk may go through them. And those animals, which -have a numerous brood of young ones at once, appear not to have any -knowledge of their number: for though they are mightily concerned for -any of their young that are taken from them whilst they are in sight -or hearing; yet if one or two be stolen from them in their absence, or -without noise, they appear not to miss them, or have any sense that -their number is lessened.”[20] - -Now, from the whole of this passage, it is apparent that the -“comparing,” “compounding,” and “enlarging” of ideas which Locke has -in view, is the _conscious_ or _intentional_ comparing, compounding, -and enlarging that belongs only to the province of reflection, or -thought. He in no way concerns himself with such powers of “comparing -and compounding of ideas” as he allows that animals present, unless -it can be shown that animals are able to “cast about and consider -in what circumstances they are capable to be compared.” And then he -adds, “Therefore, I think, beasts compare not their ideas _further -than some sensible circumstances annexed to the objects themselves_. -The _other_ power of comparing, which may be observed in men, -_belonging to general ideas, and useful only to abstract reasonings_, -we may probably conjecture beasts have not.” So far, then, it seems -perfectly obvious that Locke believed animals to present the power -of “comparing and compounding” “simple ideas,” up to the point where -such comparison and composition begins to be assisted by the power of -reflective thought. Therefore, when he immediately afterwards proceeds -to explain abstraction thus: “The same colour being observed to-day -in chalk or snow, which the mind yesterday received from milk, it -considers that appearance alone, makes it a representative of all of -that kind; and having given it the name whiteness, it by that sound -signifies the same quality, wheresoever it be imagined or met with; -and thus universals, whether ideas or terms, are made”—when he thus -proceeds to explain abstraction, we can have no doubt that what he -means by abstraction is the power of _ideally contemplating qualities -as separated from objects_, or, as he expresses it, “_considering_ -appearances alone.” Therefore I conclude, without further discussion, -that in the terminology of Locke the word abstraction is applied only -to those higher developments of the faculty which are rendered possible -by reflection. - -Now, on what does this power of reflection depend? As we shall see -more fully later on, it depends on Language, or on the power of -affixing names to abstract and general ideas. So far as I am aware, -psychologists of all existing schools are in agreement upon this point, -or in holding that the power of affixing names to abstractions is at -once the condition to reflective thought, and the explanation of the -difference between man and brute in respect of ideation. - -It seems needless to dwell upon a matter where all are agreed, -and concerning which a great deal more will require to be said in -subsequent chapters. At present I am only endeavouring to ascertain -the ground of difference between those psychologists who attribute, -and those who deny to animals the faculty of abstraction. And I think -I am now in a position to render this point perfectly clear. As we -have already seen, and we shall frequently see again, it is allowed -on all hands that animals in their ideation are not shut up to the -special imaging (or remembering) of particular perceptions; but that -they do present the power, as Locke phrases it, of “taking in and -retaining together several combinations of simple ideas.”[21] The -only question, then, really is whether or not this power is the power -of abstraction. In the opinion of some psychologists it is: in the -opinion of other psychologists it is not. Now, on what does an answer -to this question depend? Clearly it depends on whether we hold it -essential to an abstract or general idea that it should be incarnate -as a word. Under one point of view, to “take in and retain together -several combinations of simple ideas,” is to form a general concept of -so many percepts. But, under another point of view, such a combination -of simple ideas is only then entitled to be regarded as a concept, when -it has been conceived by the mind _as_ a concept, or when, in virtue -of having been bodied forth in a name, it stands before the mind as -a distinct and organic offspring of mind—so becoming an object as -well as a product of ideation. For then only can the abstract idea be -known _as_ abstract, and then only can it be available as a definite -creation of thought, capable of being built into any further and more -elaborate structure of ideation. Or, to quote M. Taine, who advocates -this view with great lucidity, “Of our numerous experiences [_i.e._ -individual perceptions of a show of araucarias] there remain on the -following day four or five more or less distinct recollections, which -obliterated themselves, leave behind in us a simple, colourless, -vague representation, into which enter as components various reviving -sensations, in an utterly feeble, incomplete, and abortive state. But -this representation is not the general or abstract idea. It is but -its accompaniment, and, if I may say so, the one from which it is -extracted. For the representation, though badly sketched, is a sketch, -the sensible sketch of a distinct individual; in fact, if I make it -persist and dwell upon it, it repeats some special visual sensation; -I see mentally some outline which corresponds only to some particular -araucaria, and, therefore, cannot correspond to the whole class: now, -my abstract idea corresponds to the whole class; it differs, then, from -the representation of an individual. Moreover, my abstract idea is -perfectly clear and determinate; now that I possess it, I never fail -to recognize an araucaria among the various plants I may be shown; it -differs, then, from the confused and floating representation I have of -some particular araucaria. What is there, then, within me so clear and -determinate, corresponding to the abstract character, corresponding -to all araucarias, and corresponding to it alone? A class-name, the -name araucaria.... Thus we conceive the abstract characters of things -by means of abstract names which _are_ our abstract ideas, and the -formation of our abstract ideas is nothing more than the formation of -names.”[22] - -The real issue, then, is as to what we are to understand by this term -abstraction, or its equivalents. If we are to limit the term to the -faculty of “taking in and retaining together several combinations of -simple ideas,” _plus_ the faculty of giving a name to the resulting -compound, then undoubtedly animals differ from men in not presenting -the faculty of abstraction; for this is no more than to say that -animals have not the faculty of speech. But if the term in question be -not thus limited—if it be taken to mean the first of the above-named -processes irrespective of the second,—then, no less undoubtedly, -animals resemble men in presenting the faculty of abstraction. In -accordance with the former definition, it necessarily follows that -“we conceive the abstract characters of things _by means of abstract -names which_ ARE _our abstract ideas_;” and, therefore, that “the -formation of our abstract ideas is nothing more than the formation of -names.” But, in accordance with the latter view, great as may be the -importance of affixing a name to a compound of simple ideas for the -purpose of giving that compound greater clearness and stability, the -essence of abstraction consists in the act of compounding, or in the -blending together of particular ideas into a general idea of the class -to which the individual things belong. The act of bestowing upon this -compound idea a class-name is quite a distinct act, and one which is -necessarily subsequent to the previous act of compounding: why then, it -may be asked, should we deny that such a compound idea is a general or -abstract idea, only because it is not followed up by the artifice of -giving it a name? - -In my opinion so much has to be said in favour of both of these views -that I am not going to pronounce against either. What I have hitherto -been endeavouring to do is to reveal clearly that the question whether -or not there is any difference between the brute and the man in respect -of abstraction, is nothing more than a question of terminology. The -real question will arise only when we come to treat of the faculty -of language: the question before us now is merely a question of -psychological classification, or of the nomenclature of ideas. Now, it -appears to me that this question admits of being definitely settled, -and a great deal of needless misunderstanding removed, by a slight -re-adjustment and a closer definition of terms. For it must be on -all hands admitted that, whether or not we choose to denominate -by the word abstraction the faculty of compounding simple ideas -without the faculty of naming the compounds, at the place where this -additional faculty of naming supervenes, so immense an accession to -the previous faculty is furnished, that any system of psychological -nomenclature must be highly imperfect if it be destitute of terms -whereby to recognize the difference. For even if it were conceded by -psychologists of the opposite school that the essence of abstraction -consists in the compounding of simple ideas, and not at all in the -subsequent process of naming the compounds; still the effect of this -subsequent process—or additional faculty—is so prodigious, that -the higher degrees of abstraction which by it are rendered possible, -certainly require to be marked off, or to be distinguished from, the -lower degrees. Without, therefore, in any way prejudicing the question -as to whether we have here a difference of degree or a difference of -kind, I will submit a classification of ideas which, while not open to -objection from either side of this question, will greatly help us in -our subsequent treatment of the question itself. - -The word “Idea” I will use in the sense defined in my previous -work—namely, as a generic term to signify indifferently any product of -imagination, from the mere memory of a sensuous impression up to the -result of the most abstruse generalization.[23] - -By “Simple Idea,” “Particular Idea,” or “Concrete Idea,” I understand -the mere memory of a particular sensuous perception. - -By “Compound Idea,” “Complex Idea,” or “Mixed Idea,” I understand the -combination of simple, particular, or concrete ideas into that kind of -composite idea which is possible without the aid of language. - -Lastly, by “General Idea,” “Abstract Idea,” “Concept,” or “Notion,” I -understand that kind of composite idea which is rendered possible only -by the aid of language, or by the process of naming abstractions as -abstractions. - -Now in this classification, notwithstanding that it is needful to -quote at least ten distinct terms which are either now in use among -psychologists or have been used by classical English writers upon -these topics, we may observe that there are really but three separate -classes to be distinguished. Moreover, it will be noticed that, for -the sake of definition, I restrict the first three terms to denote -memories of particular sensuous perceptions—refusing, therefore, to -apply them to those blended memories of many sensuous perceptions -which enable animals and infants (as well as ourselves) to form -compound ideas of kind or class without the aid of language. Again, -the first division of this threefold classification has to do only -with what are termed percepts, while the last has to do only with what -are termed concepts. Now there does not exist any equivalent word to -meet the middle division. And this fact in itself shows most forcibly -the state of ambiguous confusion into which the classification of -ideas has been wrought. Psychologists of both the schools that we are -considering—namely, those who maintain and those who deny that there -is any difference of kind between the ideation of men and animals—are -equally forced to allow that there is a great difference between what -I have called a simple idea and what I have called a compound idea. In -other words, it is a matter of obvious fact that the only distinction -between ideas is _not_ that between the memory of a particular percept -and the formation of a named concept; for between these two classes -of ideas there obviously lies another class, in virtue of which even -animals and infants are able to distinguish individual objects as -belonging to a sort or kind. Yet this large and important territory of -ideation, lying between the other two, is, so to speak, unnamed ground. -Even the words “compound idea,” “complex idea,” and “mixed idea,” are -by me restricted to it without the sanction of previous usage; for, as -above remarked, so completely has the existence of this intermediate -land been ignored, that we have no word at all which is applicable to -it in the same way that Percept and Concept are applicable to the -lands on either side of it. The consequence is that psychologists of -the one school invade this intermediate province of ideation with terms -that are applicable only to the lower province, while psychologists -of the other school invade it with terms which are applicable only to -the higher: the one matter upon which they all appear to agree being -that of ignoring the wide area which this intermediate territory -covers—and, consequently, also ignoring the great distance by which -the territories on either side of it are separated. - -In addition, then, to the terms Percept and Concept, I coin the word -_Recept_. This is a term which seems exactly to meet the requirements -of the case. For as perception literally means a _taking wholly_, and -conception a _taking together_, reception means a _taking again_. -Consequently, a recept is that which is taken again, or a _recognition_ -of things previously _cognized_. Now, it belongs to the essence of -what I have defined as compound ideas (recepts), that they arise in -the mind out of a repetition of more or less similar percepts. Having -seen a number of araucarias, the mind _receives_ from the whole mass -of individuals which it _perceives_ a composite idea of Araucaria, -or of a class comprising all individuals of that kind—an idea which -differs from a general or abstract idea only in not being consciously -fixed and signed as an idea by means of an abstract name. Compound -ideas, therefore, can only arise out of a _repetition_ of more or less -similar percepts; and hence the appropriateness of designating them -recepts. Moreover, the associations which we have with the cognate -words, Receive, Reception, &c., are all of the _passive_ kind, as the -associations which we have with the words Conceive, Conception, &c., -are of the _active_ kind. Now, here again, the use of the word recept -is seen to be appropriate to the class of ideas in question, because -in receiving such ideas the mind is passive, as in conceiving abstract -ideas the mind is active. In order to form a concept, the mind must -intentionally bring together its percepts (or the memories of them), -for the purpose of binding them up as a bundle of similars, and -labelling the bundle with a name. But in order to form a recept, the -mind need perform no such intentional actions: the similarities among -the percepts with which alone this order of ideation is concerned, are -so marked, so conspicuous, and so frequently _repeated_ in observation, -that in the very moment of perception they sort themselves, and, -as it were, fall into their appropriate classes spontaneously, or -without any conscious effort on the part of the percipient. We do -not require to name stones to distinguish them from loaves, nor fish -to distinguish them from scorpions. Class distinctions of this kind -are conveyed in the very act of perception—_e.g._ the case of the -infant with the glass bottles,—and, as we shall subsequently see, in -the case of the higher animals admit of being carried to a wonderful -pitch of discriminative perfection. Recepts, then, are _spontaneous -associations, formed unintentionally_ as what may be termed -_unperceived abstractions_.[24] - -One further remark remains to be added before our nomenclature of -ideas can be regarded as complete. It will have been noticed that -the term “general idea” is equally appropriate to ideas of class or -kind, whether or not such ideas are named. The ideas Good-for-eating -and Not-good-for-eating are as general to an animal as they are to a -man, and have in each case been formed in the same way—namely, by -an accumulation of particular experiences spontaneously assorted in -consciousness. General ideas of this kind, however, have not been -contemplated by previous writers while dealing with the psychology of -generalization: hence the term “general,” like the term “abstract,” -has by usage become restricted to those higher products of ideation -which depend on the faculty of language. And the only words that I can -find to have been used by any previous writers to designate the ideas -concerned in that lower kind of generalization which does not depend -on language, are the words above given—namely, Complex, Compound, -and Mixed. Now, none of these words are so good as the word General, -because none of them express the notion of _genus_ or _class_; and the -great distinction between the idea which an animal or an infant has, -say of an individual man and of men in general, is not that the one -idea is simple, and the other complex, compound, or mixed; but that the -one idea is _particular_ and the other _general_. Therefore consistency -would dictate that the term “general” should be applied to _all_ -ideas of class or kind, as distinguished from ideas of particulars -or individuals—irrespective of the _degree_ of generality, and -irrespective, therefore, of the accident whether or not, _quâ_ general, -such ideas are dependent on language. Nevertheless, as the term has -been through previous usage restricted to ideas of the higher order of -generality, I will not introduce confusion by extending its use to the -lower order, or by speaking of an animal as capable of generalizing. A -parallel term, however, is needed; and, therefore, I will speak of the -general or class ideas which are formed without the aid of language as -_generic_. This word has the double advantage of retaining a verbal -as well as a substantial analogy with the allied term _general_. It -also serves to indicate that generic ideas, or recepts, are not only -ideas of class or kind, but have been _generated_ from the intermixture -of individual ideas—_i.e._ from the blended memories of particular -percepts. - -My nomenclature of ideas, therefore, may be presented in a tabular form -thus:— - - { General, Abstract, or Notional = Concepts. - IDEAS { Complex, Compound, or Mixed = Recepts, or Generic Ideas. - { Simple, Particular, or Concrete = Memories of Percepts.[25] - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -LOGIC OF RECEPTS. - - -We have seen that the great border-land, or _terra media_, lying -between particular ideas and general ideas has been strangely neglected -by psychologists, and we may now be prepared to find that a careful -exploration of this border-land is a matter of the highest importance -for the purposes of our inquiry. I will, therefore, devote the present -chapter to a full consideration of what I have termed generic ideas, or -recepts. - -It has already been remarked that, in order to form any of these -generic ideas, the mind does not require to combine _intentionally_ -the particular ideas which go to construct it: a recept differs from -a concept in that it is _received_, not _conceived_. The percepts -out of which a recept is composed are of so comparatively _simple_ a -character, are so frequently _repeated_ in observation, and present -among themselves resemblances or analogies so _obvious_, that the -mental images of them run together, as it were, spontaneously, or -in accordance with the primary laws of merely sensuous association, -without requiring any conscious act of comparison. This is a truth -which has been noticed by several previous writers. For instance, I -have in this connection already quoted a passage from M. Taine, and, -if necessary, could quote another, wherein he very aptly likens what -I have called recepts to the unelaborated ore out of which the metal -of a concept is afterwards smelted. And still more to the purpose -is the following passage, which I take from Mr. Sully:—“The more -_concrete_ concepts, or _generic_ images, are formed to a large extent -by a _passive_ process of _assimilation_. The likeness among dogs, for -example, is so great and striking that when a child, already familiar -with one of these animals, sees a second, he recognizes it as identical -with the first in certain obvious respects. The representation of the -first combines with the representation of the second, bringing into -distinct relief the common dog features, more particularly the canine -form. In this way the images of different dogs come to overlap, so to -speak, giving rise to a typical image of dog. Here there is very little -of _active_ direction of the mind from one thing to another in order -to discover where the resemblance lies: _the resemblance forces itself -upon the mind_. When, however, the resemblance is less striking, as in -the case of more abstract concepts, a _distinct operation of active -comparison is involved_.”[26] - -Similarly, M. Perez remarks, “the necessity which children are under -of seeing in a detached and scrappy manner in order to see well, makes -them continually practise that kind of abstraction by which we separate -qualities from objects. From those objects which the child has already -distinguished as individual, there come to him at different moments -particularly vivid impressions.... Dominant sensations of this kind, by -their energy or frequency, tend to efface the idea of the objects from -which they proceed, _to separate or abstract themselves_.... The flame -of a candle is not always equally bright or flickering; tactile, sapid, -olfactory, and auditive impressions do not always strike the child’s -sensorium with the same intensity, nor during the same length of time. -This is why the recollections of individual forms, although strongly -graven on their intelligence, lose by degrees their first precision, -so that the idea of a tree, for instance, furnished by direct and -perfectly distinct memories, comes back to the mind in a vague and -indistinct form, which might be taken for a general idea.”[27] - -Again, in the opinion of John Stuart Mill, “It is the doctrine of -one of the most fertile thinkers of modern times, Auguste Comte, -that besides the logic of signs, there is a logic of images, and a -logic of feelings. In many of the familiar processes of thought, and -especially in uncultured minds, a visual image serves instead of a -word. Our visual sensations, perhaps only because they are almost -always present along with the impressions of our other senses, have a -facility of becoming associated with them. Hence, the characteristic -visual appearance of an object easily gathers round it, by association, -the ideas of all other peculiarities which have, in frequent -experience, co-existed with that appearance; and, summoning up these -with a strength and certainty far surpassing that of merely casual -associations which it may also raise, it concentrates the attention -on them. This is an image serving for a sign—the logic of images. -The same function may be fulfilled by a feeling. Any strong and -highly interesting feeling, connected with one attribute of a group, -spontaneously classifies all objects according as they possess, or -do not possess, that attribute. We may be tolerably certain that the -things capable of satisfying hunger form a perfectly distinct class in -the mind of any of the more intelligent animals; quite as much as if -they were able to use or understand the word food. We here see in a -strong light the important truth that hardly anything universal can be -affirmed in psychology except the laws of association.”[28] - -Furthermore, Mansel tersely conveys the truth which I am endeavouring -to present, thus:—“The mind recognizes the impression which a tree -makes on the retina of the eye: this is presentative consciousness. It -then depicts it. From many such pictures it forms a general notion, and -to that notion it at last appropriates a name.”[29] Almost in identical -language the same distinction is conveyed by Noiré thus:—“All trees -hitherto seen by me may leave in my imagination a mixed image, a kind -of ideal representation of trees. Quite different from this is the -concept, which is never an image.”[30] - -And, not to overburden the argument with quotations, I will furnish -but one more, which serves if possible with still greater clearness -to convey exactly what it is that I mean by a recept. Professor -Huxley writes:—“An anatomist who occupies himself intently with the -examination of several specimens of some new kind of animal, in course -of time acquires so vivid a conception of its form and structure, that -the idea may take visible shape and become a sort of waking dream.”[31] - -Although the use of the word “conception” here is unfortunate in one -way, I regard it as fortunate in another: it shows how desperate is the -need for the word which I have coined. - -The above quotations, then, may be held sufficient to show that the -distinction which I have drawn has not been devised merely to suit my -own purposes. All that I have endeavoured so far to do is to bring -this distinction into greater clearness, by assigning to each of its -parts a separate name. And in doing this I have not assumed that the -two orders of generalization comprised under recepts and concepts are -the same in kind. So far I have left the question open as to whether -a mind which can only attain to recepts differs in degree or in kind -from the intellect which is able to go on to the formation of concepts. -Had I said, with Sully, “When the resemblance is less striking, as in -the case of more abstract concepts, a distinct operation of active -comparison is involved,” I should have been assuming that there is only -a difference of degree between a recept and a concept: designating -both by the same term, and therefore implying that they differ only in -their level of abstraction, I should have assumed that what he calls -the “passive process of assimilation,” whereby an infant or an animal -recognizes an individual man as belonging to a class, is really the -same kind of psychological process as that which is involved “in the -case of more abstract concepts,” where the individual man is designated -by a proper name, while the class to which he belongs is designated -by a common name. Similarly, if I had said, with Thomas Brown, that -in the process of generalization there is, “in the first place, the -perception of two or more objects [percept]; in the second place, the -feeling of their resemblance [recept]; and, lastly, the expression of -this common relative feeling by a name, afterwards used as a general -name [concept];”—if I had spoken thus, I should have virtually begged -the question as to the universal continuity of ideation, both in brutes -and men. Of course this is the conclusion towards which I am working; -but my endeavour in doing so is to proceed in the proof step by step, -without anywhere pre-judging my case. These passages, therefore, I -have quoted merely because they recognize more clearly than others -which I have happened to meet with what I conceive to be the true -psychological classification of ideas; and although, with the exception -of that quoted from Mill, no one of the passages shows that its writer -had before his mind the case of animal intelligence—or perceived the -immense importance of his statements in relation to the question which -we have to consider,—this only renders of more value their independent -testimony to the soundness of my classification.[32] - -The question, then, which we have to consider is whether there is a -difference of kind, or only a difference of degree, between a recept -and a concept. This is really the question with which the whole of the -present volume will be concerned, and as its adequate treatment will -necessitate somewhat laborious inquiries in several directions, I will -endeavour to keep the various issues distinct by fully working out each -branch of the subject before entering upon the next. - -First of all I will show, by means of illustrations, the highest levels -of ideation that are attained within the domain of recepts; and, in -order to do this, I will adduce my evidence from animals alone, seeing -that here there can be no suspicion—as there might be in the case of -infants—that the logic of recepts is assisted by any nascent growth -of concepts. But, before proceeding to state this evidence, it seems -desirable to say a few words on what I mean by the term just used, -namely, Logic of Recepts. - -As argued in my previous work, all mental processes of an adaptive kind -are, in their last resort, processes of classification: they consist in -discriminating between differences and resemblances. An act of simple -perception is an act of noticing resemblances and differences between -the objects of such perception; and, similarly, an act of conception is -the taking together—or the intentional _putting_ together—of ideas -which are recognized as analogous. Hence abstraction has to do with -the abstracting of analogous qualities; reason is ratiocination, or -the comparison of ratios; and thus the highest operations of thought, -like the simplest acts of perception, are concerned with the grouping -or co-ordination of resemblances, previously distinguished from -differences.[33] Consequently, the middle ground of ideation, or the -territory occupied by recepts, is concerned with this same process on -a plane higher than that which is occupied by percepts, though lower -than that which is occupied by concepts. In short, the object or use, -and therefore the method or _logic_, of all ideation is the same. It -is, indeed, customary to restrict the latter term to the higher plane -of ideation, or to that which has to do with concepts. But, as Comte -has shown, there is no reason why, for purposes of special exposition, -this term should not be extended so as to embrace all operations of -the mind, in so far as these are operations of an orderly kind. For -in so far as they are orderly or adaptive—and not merely sentient or -indifferent—such operations all consist, as we have just seen, in -processes of ideal grouping, or _binding together_.[34] And therefore -I see no impropriety in using the word Logic for the special purpose -of emphasizing the fundamental identity of all ideation—so far, that -is, as its method is concerned. I object, however, to the terms “Logic -of Feelings” and “Logic of Signs.” For, on the one hand, “Feelings,” -have to do primarily with the sentient and emotional side of mental -life, as distinguished from the intellectual or ideational. And, on -the other hand, “Signs” are the _expressions_ of ideas; not the ideas -themselves. Hence, whatever method, or meaning, they may present is but -a reflection of the order, or grouping, among the ideas which they are -used to express. The logic, therefore, is neither in the feelings nor -in the signs; but in the ideas. On this account I have substituted for -the above terms what I take to be more accurate designations—namely, -the Logic of Recepts, and the Logic of Concepts.[35] - -In the present chapter we have only to consider the logic of recepts, -and, in order to do so efficiently, we may first of all briefly -note that even within the region of percepts we meet with a process -of spontaneous grouping of like with like, which, in turn, leads -us downwards to the purely unconscious or mechanical grouping of -stimuli in the lower nerve-centres. So that, as fully argued out in -my previous work, on its objective face the method has everywhere -been the same: whether in the case of reflex action, of sensation, -perception, reception, conception, or reflection, on the side of the -nervous system, the method of evolution has been uniform: “it has -everywhere consisted in a progressive development of the power of -discriminating between stimuli, joined with the complementary power of -adaptive response.”[36] But although this is a most important truth -to recognize (as it appears to have been implicitly recognized—or, -rather, accidentally implied—by using a variant of the same term to -designate the lowest and the highest members of the above-named series -of faculties), for the purposes of psychological as distinguished from -physiological inquiry, it is convenient to disregard the objective side -of this continuous process, and therefore to take up our analysis at -the place where it is attended by a subjective counterpart—that is, at -Perception. - -So much has already been written on what is termed the “unconscious -judgments” or “intuitive judgments” incidental to all our acts of -perception, that I feel it is needless to occupy space by dwelling at -any length upon this subject. The familiar illustration of looking -straight into a polished bowl, and alternately perceiving it as a -bowl and a sphere, is enough to show that here we _do_ have a logic -of feelings: without any act of ideation, but simply in virtue of -an automatic grouping of former percepts, the mind spontaneously -infers—or unconsciously judges—that an object, which _must either_ -be a bowl or a sphere, is now one and now the other.[37] From which -we gather that all our visual perceptions are thus of the nature of -automatic inferences, based upon previous correspondencies between them -and perceptions of touch. From which, again, we gather that perceptions -of every kind depend upon previous grouping, whether between those -supplied by the same sense only, or also in combination with those -supplied by other senses. - -Now, if this is so well known to be the case with percepts, obviously -it must also be the case with recepts. If we thus find by experiment -that all our perceptions are dependent on sub-conscious co-ordination -wholly automatic, much more may we be prepared to find that the -simplest of our ideas are dependent on spontaneous co-ordinations -almost equally automatic. Accordingly, it requires but a slight -analysis of our ordinary mental processes to prove that all our -simpler ideas are group-arrangements, which have been formed as I say -spontaneously, or without any of that intentionally comparing, sifting, -and combining process which is required in the higher departments of -ideational activity. The comparing, sifting, and combining is here -done, as it were, _for_ the conscious agent; not _by_ him. Recepts -are _received_: it is only concepts that require to be _conceived_. -For a recept is that kind of idea the constituent parts of which—be -they but the memories of percepts, or already more or less elaborated -as recepts—unite spontaneously as soon as they are brought together. -It matters not whether this readiness to unite is due to obvious -similarity, or to frequent repetition: the point is that there is -so strong an _affinity_ between the elementary constituents, that -the compound is formed as a consequence of their mere apposition in -consciousness. If I am crossing a street and hear behind me a sudden -shout, I do not require to wait in order to predicate to myself that -there is probably a hansom cab just about to run me down: a cry of -this kind, and in those circumstances, is so intimately associated -in my mind with its purpose, that the idea which it arouses need not -rise above the level of a recept; and the adaptive movements on my -part which that idea immediately prompts, are performed without any -intelligent reflection. Yet, on the other hand, they are neither reflex -actions nor instinctive actions: they are what may be termed receptual -actions, or actions depending on recepts. - -This, of course, is an exceedingly simple illustration, and I have -used it in order to make the further remark that actions depending -on recepts, although they often thus lie near to reflex actions, are -by no means bound to do so. On the contrary, as we shall immediately -find, actions depending on recepts are often so highly “intelligent,” -that in our own case it is impossible to draw the line between them -and actions depending on concepts. That is to say, in our own case -there is a large border-land where introspection is unable to determine -whether adjustive action is due to recepts or to concepts; and hence -it is only in the case of animals that we can be certain as to the -limits of intelligent adjustment which are possible under the operation -of recepts alone. The question therefore, now arises,—How far can -this process of spontaneous or unintentional comparing, sifting, and -combining go without the intentional co-operation of the conscious -agent? To what level of ideation can recepts attain without the aid of -concepts? We have seen in the last chapter that animals display generic -or receptual ideas of Good-for-eating, Not-good-for-eating, &c.; and -we know that in our own case we “instinctively” avoid placing our -hands in a flame, without requiring to formulate any proposition upon -the properties of flame. How far, then, can this kind of unnamed or -non-conceptional ideation extend? Or, in other words, how far can mind -travel without the vehicle of Language? For the reasons already given, -I will answer this question by fastening attention exclusively on the -mind of brutes. - - * * * * * - -To lead off with a few instances which have been already selected for -substantially the same purpose by Mr. Darwin:— - -“Houzeau relates that, while crossing a wide and arid plain in Texas, -his two dogs suffered greatly from thirst, and that between thirty and -forty times they rushed down the hollows to search for water. These -hollows were not valleys, and there were no trees in them, or any other -difference in the vegetation; and as they were absolutely dry, there -could have been no smell of damp earth. The dogs behaved as if they -knew that a dip in the ground offered them the best chance of finding -water, and Houzeau has often witnessed the same behaviour in other -animals.” - -I have myself frequently observed this association of ideas between -hollow ground and probability of finding water in the case of -setter-dogs, which require much water while working; and it is evident -that the ideas associated are of a character highly generic. - -Further, Mr. Darwin writes:—“I have seen, as I dare say have others, -that when a small object is thrown on the ground beyond the reach of -one of the elephants in the Zoological Gardens, he blows through his -trunk on the ground beyond the object, so that the current reflected on -all sides may drive the object within his reach. Again, a well-known -ethnologist, Mr. Westropp, informs me that he observed in Vienna a bear -deliberately making with his paw a current in some water, which was -close to the bars of his cage, so as to draw a piece of floating bread -within his reach.”[38] - -In _Animal Intelligence_ it will be seen that both these observations -are independently confirmed by letters which I have received from -correspondents; so that the facts must be accepted. And they imply a -faculty of forming generic ideas of a high order of complexity. Indeed, -these are not unlike the generic ideas of intelligent water-dogs -with reference to water-currents, which induce the animals to make -allowance for the force of the current by running in the opposite -direction to its flow before entering the water. Dogs accustomed to -tidal rivers, or to swimming in the sea, acquire a still further -generic idea of uncertainty as to the direction of the flow at any -given time; and therefore some of the more intelligent of these dogs -first ascertain the direction in which the tide is running by placing -their fore-paws in the stream, and then proceed to make their allowance -for driftway accordingly.[39] - -Lastly, Mr. Darwin writes:—“When I say to my terrier in an eager voice -(and I have made the trial many times), ‘Hi, hi, where is it?’ she at -once takes it as a sign that something is to be hunted, and generally -first looks quickly all around, and then rushes into the nearest -thicket, to scout for any game, but finding nothing, she looks up into -any neighbouring tree for a squirrel. Now, do not these actions clearly -show that she had in her mind a general idea, or concept, that some -animal is to be discovered and hunted?”[40] - -From the many instances which I have already given in _Animal -Intelligence_ of the high receptual capabilities of ants, it will here -be sufficient to re-state the following, which is quoted from Mr. Belt, -whose competency as an observer no one can dispute. - -“A nest was made near one of our tramways, and to get to the trees the -ants had to cross the rails, over which the waggons were continually -passing and re-passing. Every time they came along a number of ants -were crushed to death. They persevered in crossing for some time, but -at last set to work and tunnelled underneath each rail. One day, when -the waggons were not running, I stopped up the tunnels with stones; but -although great numbers carrying leaves were thus cut off from the nest, -they would not cross the rails, but set to work making fresh tunnels -underneath them.” - -These facts cannot be ascribed to “instinct,” seeing that tram-cars -could not have been objects of previous experience to the ancestors -of the ants; and therefore the degree of receptual intelligence, or -“practical inference,” which was displayed is highly remarkable. -Clearly, the insects must have appreciated the nature of these repeated -catastrophes, and correctly reasoned out the only way by which they -could be avoided. - -As this is an important branch of my subject, I will add a few more -illustrations drawn from vertebrated animals, beginning with some -from the writings of Leroy, who had more opportunity than most men of -studying the habits of animals in a state of nature.[41] - -He says of the wolf:—“When he scents a flock within its fold, memory -recalls to him the impression of the shepherd and his dog, and balances -that of the immediate neighbourhood of the sheep; he measures the -height of the fence, compares it with his own strength, takes into -account the additional difficulty of jumping it when burdened with his -prey, and thence concludes the uselessness of the attempt. Yet he will -seize one of a flock scattered over a field, under the very eyes of the -shepherd, especially if there be a wood near enough to offer him a hope -of shelter. He will resist the most tempting morsel when accompanied -by this alarming accessory [the smell of man]; and even when it is -divested of it, he is long in overcoming his suspicions. In this case -the wolf can only have an abstract idea of danger—the precise nature -of the trap laid for him being unknown.... Several nights are hardly -sufficient to give him confidence. Though the cause of his suspicions -may no longer exist, it is reproduced by memory, and the suspicion is -unremoved. The idea of man is connected with that of an unknown danger, -and makes him distrustful of the fairest appearances.”[42] - -Leroy also well observes:—“Animals, like ourselves, are _forced_ to -make abstractions. A dog which has lost his master runs towards a group -of men, by virtue of a general abstract idea, which represents to him -the qualities possessed in common with these men by his master. He then -experiences in succession several less general, but still abstract -ideas of sensation, until he meets the particular sensation which he -seeks.”[43] - -Again, with regard to the stag, this author writes:—“He exhausts every -variety and every design of which the action of flight consists. He -has perceived that in thickets, where the passage of his body leaves a -strong trace, the dogs follow him ardently, and without any checks; he -therefore leaves the thicket and plunges into the forests where there -is no underwood, or else skirts the high-road. Sometimes he leaves that -part of the country altogether, and depends wholly on his speed for -escape. But even when out of hearing of the dogs, he knows that they -will soon come up with him; and, instead of giving himself up to false -security, he avails himself of this respite to invent new artifices -to throw them out. He takes a straight course, returns on his steps, -and bounding from the earth many times consecutively, throws out the -sagacity of the dogs.... When hard pressed he will often drop down in -the hope that their ardour will carry them beyond the track, and should -it do so he retraces his steps. Often he seeks the company of others -of his species, and when his friend is sufficiently heated to share -the peril with, he leaves him to his fate and escapes by rapid flight. -Frequently the quarry is thus changed, and this artifice is one the -success of which is most certain.”[44] - -“Often (when not being hunted at all), instead of returning home in -confidence and straightway lying down to rest, he will wander round the -spot; he enters the wood, leaves it, goes and returns on his steps -many times. Without having any immediate cause for his uneasiness, he -employs the same artifices which he would have employed to throw out -the dogs, if he were pursued by them. This foresight is an evidence of -remembered facts, and of a series of ideas and suppositions resulting -from those facts.”[45] - -It is remarkable enough that an animal should seek to confuse its -trail by such devices, even when it knows that the hounds are actually -in pursuit; but it is still more so when the devices are resorted -to in order to confuse _imaginary_ hounds which may _possibly_ be -on the scent. Perhaps to some persons it may appear that such facts -argue on the part of the animals which exhibit them some powers of -representative thought, or some kind of reflection conducted without -the aid of language. Be it remembered, therefore, I am not maintaining -that they do not: I am merely conceding that the evidence is inadequate -to justify the conclusion that they do; and all I am now concerned with -is to make it certain that in animals there is a _logic_, be it a logic -of recepts only, or likewise what I shall afterwards explain as a logic -of _pre-concepts_. - -Again, Leroy says of the fox:—“He smells the iron of the trap, and -this sensation has become so terrible to him, that it prevails over -every other. If he perceives that the snares become more numerous, he -departs to seek a safe neighbourhood. But sometimes, grown bold by a -nearer and oft-repeated examination, and guided by his unerring scent, -he manages, without hurt to himself, to draw the bait adroitly out of -the trap.... If all the outlets of his den are guarded by traps, the -animal scents them, recognizes them, and will suffer the most acute -hunger rather than attempt to pass them. I have known foxes keep their -dens a whole fortnight, and only then make up their minds to come out -because hunger left them no choice but as to the mode of death.... -There is nothing he will not attempt in order to save himself. He will -dig till he has worn away his claws to effect his exit by a fresh -opening, and thus not unfrequently escapes the snares of the sportsman. -If a rabbit imprisoned with him gets caught in one of the snares, or if -by any other means one should go off, he infers that the machine has -done its duty, and walks boldly and securely over it.”[46] - -Lastly, this author gives the case, which has since been largely -quoted—although its source is seldom given—of crows which it is -desired to shoot upon their nests, in order to destroy birds and eggs -at the same time. The crows will not return to their nests during -daylight, if they see any one waiting to shoot them. If, to lull -suspicion, a hut is made below the rookery and a man conceal himself -in it with a gun, he waits in vain if the bird has ever before been -shot at in a similar manner. “She knows that fire will issue from the -cave into which she saw a man enter.” Leroy then goes on to say:—“To -deceive this suspicious bird, the plan was hit upon of sending two men -into the watch-house, one of whom passed on while the other remained; -but the crow counted and kept her distance. The next day three went, -and again she perceived that only two returned. In fine it was found -necessary to send five or six men to the watch-house in order to put -her out of her calculation.” - -Now, as Leroy is not a random writer, and as his life’s work was that -of Ranger at Versailles, we must not lightly set aside this statement -as incredible, more especially as he adds that the “phenomenon is -always to be repeated when the attempt is made,” and so is to be -regarded as “among the very commonest instances of the sagacity of -animals.”[47] If it is once granted that a bird has sagacity enough to -infer that where she has observed two men pass in and only one come -out, therefore the second man remains behind, it is only a matter -of degree how far the differential perception may extend. Of course -it would be absurd to suppose that the bird counts out the men by -any process of notation, but we know that for simple ideas of number -no symbolism in the way of figures is necessary. If we were to see -three men pass into a building and only two come out, we should not -require to calculate 3-2=1; the contrast between the simultaneous -sense-perception of A+B+C, when receptually compared with the -subsequently serial perceptions of A and B, would be sufficient for -the spontaneous inference that C must still be in the building. And -this process would in our own case continue possible up to the point at -which the simultaneous perception was not composed of too many parts to -be afterwards receptually analysed into its constituents.[48] - -In this connection also I may state that, with the assistance of -the keeper, I have succeeded in teaching the Chimpanzee now at the -Zoological Gardens to count correctly as far as five. The method -adopted is to ask her for one straw, two straws, three straws, four -straws, or five straws—of course without observing any order in the -succession of such requests. If more than one straw is asked for, the -ape has been taught to hold the others in her mouth until the sum is -completed, so that she may deliver all the straws simultaneously. For -instance, if she is asked for four straws, she successively picks up -three straws and puts them in her mouth: then she picks up the fourth, -and hands over all the four together. This method prevents any possible -error arising from her interpretation of vocal tones, which might well -arise if each straw were asked for separately. Thus there can be no -doubt that the animal is able to distinguish receptually between the -numbers 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and understands the name for each. Further than -this I have not attempted to take her. I may add that her performance -has been witnessed by the officers of the Zoological Society and also -by other naturalists, who will be satisfied with the accuracy of the -above account. But the ape is capricious, and, unless she happens to be -in a favourable mood at the time, visitors must not be disappointed if -they fail to be entertained by an exhibition of her learning. - -The great physiologist Müller and the great philosopher Hegel are -quoted by Mr. Mivart as maintaining, that “to form abstract conceptions -of such operations as of something common to many under the notion of -cause and effect, is a perfect impossibility to them” (animals[49]); -and no doubt many other illustrious names might be quoted in support -of the same statement. But it seems to me that needless obscurity is -imported into this matter, by not considering in what our own idea of -causality consists. It is clear that to attain a _general_ idea of -causality as universal, &c., demands higher powers of abstract thought -than are possessed by any animals, or even by the great majority -of men; but it is no less clear that all men and most animals have -a _generic_ idea of causality, in the sense of expecting uniform -experience under uniform conditions. A cat sees a man knock at the -knocker of a door, and observes that the door is afterwards opened: -remembering this, when she herself wants to get in at that door, -she jumps at the knocker, and waits for the door to be opened.[50] -Now, can it be denied that in this act of inference, or imitation, -or whatever name we choose to call it, the cat perceives such an -association between the knocking and the opening as to feel that -the former as antecedent was in some way required to determine the -latter as consequent? And what is this but such a perception of causal -relation as is shown by a child who blows upon a watch to open the -case—thinking this to be the cause of the opening from the uniform -deception practised by its parent,—or of the savage who plants nails -and gunpowder to make them grow? And endless illustrations of such -a perception of causality might be drawn from the everyday life of -civilized man: indeed, how seldom does any one of us wait to construct -a general proposition about causality in the abstract before we act on -our practical knowledge of it. And that this practical knowledge in -the case of animals enables them to form a generic idea, or recept, of -the _equivalency_ between causes and effects—such that a perceived -equivalency is recognized by them as an _explanation_—would appear to -be rendered evident by the following fact, which I carefully observed -for the express purpose of testing the question. I quote the incident -from an already-published lecture, which was given before the British -Association at Dublin, in 1878. - -“I had a setter dog which was greatly afraid of thunder. One day -a number of apples were being shot upon the wooden floor of an -apple-room, and, as each bag of apples was shot, it produced through -the rest of the house a noise resembling that of distant thunder. My -dog became terror-stricken at the sound; but as soon as I brought him -to the apple-room and showed him the true _cause_ of the noise, he -became again buoyant and cheerful as usual.”[51] - -The importance of clearly perceiving that animals have a generic, -as distinguished from an abstract, idea of causation—and, indeed, -_must_ have such an idea if they are in any way at all to adjust their -actions to their circumstances—the importance of clearly perceiving -this is, that it carries with it a proof of the logic of recepts being -able to reach generic ideas of _principles_, as well as of objects, -qualities, and actions. In order to prove this important fact still -more unquestionably, I will here quote a passage from the biography -of the cebus which I kept for the express purpose of observing his -intelligence. - -“To-day he obtained possession of a hearth-brush, one of the kind which -has the handle screwed into the brush. He soon found the way to unscrew -the handle, and, having done that, he immediately began to try to find -out the way to screw it in again. This he in time accomplished. At -first he put the wrong end of the handle into the hole, but turned it -round and round the right way for screwing. Finding it did not hold, -he turned the other end of the handle, carefully stuck it into the -hole, and began again to turn it the right way. It was, of course, a -very difficult feat for him to perform, for he required both his hands -to hold the handle in the proper position, and to turn it between his -hands in order to screw it in; and the long bristles of the brush -prevented it from remaining steady, or with the right side up. He held -the brush with his hind hands, but even so it was very difficult for -him to get the first turn of the screw to fit into the thread; he -worked at it, however, with the most unwearying perseverance until he -got the first turn of the screw to catch, and he then quickly turned it -round and round until it was screwed up to the end. The most remarkable -thing was that, however often he was disappointed in the beginning, he -never was induced to try turning the handle the wrong way; he always -screwed it from right to left. As soon as he had accomplished his wish, -he unscrewed it again, and then screwed it on again the second time -rather more easily than the first, and so on many times.” - -The above is extracted from the diary kept by my sister. I did not -myself witness the progress of this research with the hearth-brush, as -I did so many of the other investigations successfully pursued by that -wonderful animal. But I have a perfect confidence in the accuracy of my -sister’s observation, as well as in the fidelity of her account; and, -moreover, the point with which I am about to be concerned has reference -to what followed subsequently, as to which I had abundant opportunities -for close and repeated observations. For the point is that, after -having thus discovered the mechanical _principle_ of the screw in that -one particular case, the monkey forthwith proceeded to _generalize_, or -to apply his newly gained knowledge to every other case where it was -at all probable that the mechanical principle in question was to be -met with. The consequence was that the animal became a nuisance in the -house by incessantly unscrewing the tops of fire-irons, bell-handles, -&c., &c., which he was by no means careful always to replace. Here, -therefore, I think we have unquestionable evidence of intelligent -recognition of a principle, which in the first instance was discovered -by “the most unwearying perseverance” in the way of experiment, and -afterwards sought for in multitudes of wholly dissimilar objects.[52] - -To these numerous facts I will now add one other, which is sufficiently -remarkable to deserve republication for its own sake. I quote the -account from the journal _Science_, in which it appeared anonymously. -But finding on inquiry that the observer was Mr. S. P. Langley, the -well-known astronomer, and being personally assured by him that he is -certain there is no mistake about the observation, I will now give the -latter in his own words. - -“The interesting description by Mr. Larkin (_Science_, No. 58) of the -lifting by a spider of a large beetle to its nest, reminds me of quite -another device by which I once saw a minute spider (hardly larger than -the head of a pin) lift a house-fly, which must have been more than -twenty times its weight, through a distance of over a foot. The fly -dangled by a single strand from the cross-bar of a window-sash, and, -when it first caught my attention, was being raised through successive -small distances of something like a tenth of an inch each; the lifts -following each other so fast, that the ascent seemed almost continuous. -It was evident that the weight must have been quite beyond the spider’s -power to stir by a ‘dead lift;’ but his motions were so quick, that -at first it was difficult to see how this apparently impossible task -was being accomplished. I shall have to resort to an illustration to -explain it; for the complexity of the scheme seems to belong less to -what we ordinarily call instinct than to intelligence, and that in a -degree we cannot all boast ourselves. - -[Illustration] - -“The little spider proceeded as follows:— - -“_a b_ is a portion of the window-bar, to which level the fly was to -be lifted, from his original position at F vertically beneath _a_; -the spider’s first act was to descend halfway to the fly (to _d_), -and there fasten one end of an almost invisible thread; his second to -ascend to the bar and run out to _b_, where he made fast the other end, -and hauled on his guy with all his might. Evidently the previously -straight line must yield somewhat in the middle, whatever the weight -of the fly, who was, in fact, thereby brought into position F´, to the -right of the first one and a little higher. Beyond this point, it might -seem, he could not be lifted; but the guy being left fast at _b_, the -spider now went to an intermediate point _c_ directly over his victim’s -new position, and thus spun a new vertical line from _c_, which was -made fast at the bend at _d_´, after which _a d_ was cast off, so that -the fly now hung vertically below _c_, as before below _a_, but a -little higher.” - -“The same operation was repeated again and again, a new guy being -occasionally spun, but the spider never descending more than about -halfway down the cord, whose elasticity was in no way involved in the -process. All was done with surprising rapidity. I watched it for some -five minutes (during which the fly was lifted perhaps six inches), and -then was called away.” - - * * * * * - -Without further burdening the argument with illustrative proof, it -must now be evident that the “ore” out of which concepts are formed -is highly metalliferous: it is not merely a dull earth which bears no -resemblance to the shining substance smelted from it in the furnace -of Language; it is already sparkling to such an extent that we may -well feel there is no need of analysis to show it charged with that -substance in its pure form—that what we see in the ore is the same -kind of material as we take from the melting-pot, and differs from it -only in the degree of its agglomeration. Nevertheless, I will not yet -assume that such is the case. Before we can be perfectly sure that two -things which seem to the eye of common sense so similar are really -the same, we must submit them to a scientific analysis. Even though -it be certain that the one is extracted from the other, there still -remains a possibility that in the melting-pot some further ingredient -may have been added. Human intelligence is undoubtedly derived from -human experience, in the same way as animal intelligence is derived -from animal experience; but this does not prove that the ideation -which we have in common with brutes is not supplemented by ideation of -some other order, or kind. Presently I shall consider the arguments -which are adduced to prove that it has been, and then it will become -apparent that the supplement, if any, must have been added in the -smelting-fire of Language—a fact, be it observed, which is conceded by -all modern writers who deny the genetic continuity of mind in animal -and human intelligence. Thus far, then, I have attempted nothing more -than a preliminary clearing of the ground—first by carefully defining -my terms and impartially explaining the psychology of ideation; next -by indicating the nature of the question which has presently to be -considered; and, lastly, by showing the level to which intelligence -attains under the logic of recepts, without any possibility of -assistance from the logic of concepts. - - * * * * * - -Only one other topic remains to be dealt with in the present chapter. -We continually find it assumed, and confidently stated as if the -statement did not admit of question, that the simplest or most -primitive order of ideation is that which is concerned only with -particulars, or with special objects of perception. The nascent ideas -of an infant are supposed to crystallize around the nuclei furnished -by individual percepts; the less intelligent animals—if not, indeed, -animals in general—are supposed, as Locke says, to deal “only in -particular ideas, just as they receive them from the senses.” Now, I -fully assent to this, if it is only meant (as I understand Locke to -mean) that infants and animals are not able consciously, intentionally, -or, as he says, “_of themselves_, to compound and make complex ideas.” -In order thus intentionally, or of themselves, to compound their -ideas, they would require to _think_ about their ideas _as_ ideas, or -consciously to set one idea before another as two distinct objects -of thought, _and for the known purpose of composition_. To do this -requires powers of introspective reflection; therefore it is a kind -of mental activity impossible to infants or animals, since it has to -do with concepts as distinguished from recepts. But, as we have now -so fully seen, it does not follow that because ideas cannot be thus -compounded by infants or animals _intentionally_, therefore they -cannot be compounded _at all_. Locke is very clear in recognizing that -animals do “take in and retain together several combinations of simple -ideas to make up a complex idea:” he only denies that animals “do _of -themselves_ ever compound them and make complex ideas.” Thus, Locke -plainly teaches my doctrine of recepts as distinguished from concepts; -and I do not think that any modern psychologist—more especially in -view of the foregoing evidence—will so far dispute this doctrine. -But the point now is that, in my opinion, many psychologists have -gone astray by assuming that the most primitive order of ideation is -concerned only with particulars, or that in chronological order the -memory of percepts precedes the occurrence of recepts. It appears -to me that a very little thought on the one hand, and a very little -observation on the other, is enough to make it certain that so soon as -ideas of any kind begin to be formed at all, they are formed, not only -as memories of particular percepts, but also as rudimentary recepts; -and that in the subsequent development of ideation the genesis of -recepts everywhere proceeds _pari passu_ with that of percepts. I say -that a very little thought is enough to show that this _must_ be so, -while a very little observation is enough to show that it _is_ so. -For, _a priori_, the more unformed the powers of perception, the less -able must they be to take cognizance of particulars. The development -of these powers consists in the ever-increasing efficiency of their -analysis, or _cognition_ of smaller and smaller differences of detail; -and, consequently, of their _recognition_ of these differences in -different combinations. Hence, the feebler the powers of perception, -the more must they occupy themselves with the larger or class -distinctions between objects of sensuous experience, and the less -with the smaller or more individual distinctions. Or, if we like, -what afterwards become class distinctions, are at earlier stages of -ideation the _only_ distinctions; and, therefore, all the same as -what are afterwards individual distinctions. But what follows? Surely -that—be it in the individual or the race—when these originally -individual distinctions begin to grow into class distinctions, they -leave in the mind an indelible impress of their first nativity: they -were the original recepts of memory, and if they are afterwards slowly -differentiated as they slowly become organized into many particular -parts, this does not hinder that throughout the process they never lose -their organic unity: the mind must always continue to recognize that -the parts which it subsequently perceived as successively unfolding -from what at first was known only as a whole, are parts which belong -to that whole—or, in other words, that the more newly observed -particulars are members of what is now perceived as a class. Therefore, -I say, on merely _a priori_ grounds we might banish the gratuitous -statement that the lower the order of ideation the more it is concerned -with particular distinctions, or the less with class distinctions. The -truth must be that the more primitive the recepts the larger are the -class distinctions with which they are concerned—provided, of course, -that this statement is not taken to apply beyond the region of sensuous -perception. - -Accordingly we find, as a matter of fact, both in infants and in -animals, that the lower the grade of intelligence, the more is that -intelligence shut up to a perception of class distinctions. “We -pronounce the word _Papa_ before a child in its cradle, at the same -time pointing to his father. After a little, he in turn lisps the word, -and we imagine that he understands it in the same sense that we do, or -that his father’s presence only will recall the word. Not at all. When -another person—that is, one similar in appearance, with a long coat, -a beard, and loud voice—enters the room, he calls him also _Papa_. -The name was individual; he has made it general. In our case it is -applicable to one person only; in his, to a class.... A little boy, -a year old, had travelled a good deal by railway. The engine, with -its hissing sound and smoke, and the great noise of the train, struck -his attention, and the first word he learned to pronounce was _Fefer_ -(chemin de fer). Then afterwards, a steam-boat, a coffee-pot with -spirit lamp—everything that hissed or smoked was a _Fefer_.”[53] - -“Now, I have quoted such familiar instances from this author because -he adduces them as proof of the statement that here there appears a -delicacy of impression which is special to man.” Without waiting to -inquire whether this statement is justified by the evidence adduced, -or even whether the infant has personally distinguished his father -from among other men at the time when he first calls all men by the -same name; it is enough for my present purposes to observe the single -fact, that when a child is first able to show us the nature of its -ideation by means of speech, it furnishes us with ample evidence that -this ideation is what I have termed generic. The dress, the beard, -and the voice go to form a recept to which all men are perceived to -correspond: the most striking peculiarities of a locomotive are vividly -impressed upon the memory, so that when anything resembling them is -met with elsewhere, it is receptually classified as belonging to an -object of analogous character. Only much later, when the analytic -powers of perception have greatly developed, does the child begin -to draw its distinctions with sufficient “refinement” to perceive -that this classification is too crude—that the resemblances which -most struck its infant imagination were but accidental, and that -they have to be disregarded in favour of less striking resemblances -which were originally altogether unnoticed. But although the process -of classification is thus perpetually undergoing improvement -with advancing intelligence, from the very first it has been -_classification_—although, of course, thus far only within the region -of sensuous perception. And similarly with regard to animals, it is -sufficiently evident from such facts as those already instanced, that -the imagery on which their adaptive action depends is in large measure -generic. - -Therefore, without in any way pre-judging the question as to whether -or not there is any radical distinction between a mind thus far gifted -and the conceptual thought of man, I may take it for granted that -the ideation of infants is from the first generic; and hence that -those psychologists are greatly mistaken who thoughtlessly assume -that the formation of class-ideas is a prerogative of more advanced -intelligence. No doubt their view of the matter seems plausible at -first sight, because within the region of conceptual thought we know -that progress is marked by increasing powers of _generalisation_—that -it is the easiest steps which have to do with the cognition of -particulars; the more difficult which have to do with abstractions. -But this is to confuse recepts with concepts, and so to overlook a -distinction between the two orders of generalization which it is of -the first importance to be clear about. A _generic_ idea is generic -because the particular ideas of which it is composed present such -_obvious_ points of resemblance that they spontaneously fuse together -in consciousness; but a _general_ idea is general for precisely the -opposite reason—namely, because the points of resemblance which it -has seized are _obscured_ from immediate perception, and therefore -could never have fused together in consciousness but for the aid of -intentional abstraction, or of the power of a mind knowingly to deal -with its own ideas as ideas. In other words, the kind of classification -with which recepts are concerned is that which lies nearest to the kind -of classification with which all processes of so-called “intuitive -inference” depend—such as mistaking a bowl for a sphere. But the kind -of classification with which concepts are concerned is that which -lies furthest from this purely automatic grouping of perceptions. -Classification there doubtless is in both cases; but the one order is -due to the closeness of resemblances in an act of perception, while in -the other order it is an expression of their remoteness from merely -perceptual associations. - -Or, to put the matter in yet another light, if we think it sounds less -paradoxical to speak of the process of classification as everywhere -the same in kind, we must conclude that the groupings of recepts stand -to those of concepts in much the same relation as the groupings of -percepts do to those of recepts. In each case it is the lower order of -grouping which furnishes material for the higher: and the object of -this chapter has been to show, first, that the unintentional grouping -which is distinctive of recepts may be carried to a wonderful pitch -of perfection without any aid from the intentional grouping which is -distinctive of concepts; and, second, that from the very beginning -conscious ideation has been concerned with _grouping_. Not only, or -not even chiefly, has it had to do with the registration in memory -of particular percepts; but much more has it had to do with the -spontaneous sorting of such percepts, with the spontaneous arrangement -of them in ideal (or imagery) systems, and, consequently, with the -_spontaneous reflection in consciousness_ of many among the less -complex _relations_—or the less abstruse _principles_—which have -been uniformly encountered by the mind in its converse with an orderly -world. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -LOGIC OF CONCEPTS. - - -The device of applying symbols to stand for ideas, and then using the -symbols as ideas, operates to the formation of more highly abstract -ideas in a manner that is easily seen. For instance, because we observe -that a great many objects present a certain quality in common, such as -redness, we find it convenient to give this quality a name; and, having -done so, we speak of redness in the abstract, or as standing apart -from any particular object. Our word “redness” then serves as a sign -or symbol of a quality, apart from any particular object of which it -may happen to be a quality; and having made this symbolic abstraction -in the case of a simple quality, such as redness, we can afterwards -compound it with other symbolic abstractions, and so on till we arrive -at verbal symbols of more and more abstract or general qualities, -as well as qualities further and further removed from immediate -perception. Thus, seeing that many other objects agree in being yellow, -others blue, and so on, we combine all these abstractions into a still -more general concept of Colour, which, _quâ_ more abstract, is further -removed from immediate perception—it being impossible that we can -ever have a percept answering to the amalgamated concept of _colour_, -although we have many percepts answering to the constituent concepts of -_colours_. - -So in the analogous case of objects. The proper names Peter, Paul, -John, &c., stand in my mind as marks of my individual concepts: -the term Man serves to sum up all the points of agreement between -them—and also between all other individuals of their kind—without -regard to their points of disagreement: the word Animal takes a still -wider range, and so with nearly all words denoting objects. Like words -connoting qualities, they may be arranged in rank above rank according -to the range of their generality: and it is obvious that the wider this -range the further is their meaning withdrawn from anything that can -ever have been an object of immediate perception. - -We shall afterwards find it is of the highest importance to note that -these remarks apply quite as much to actions and states as they do -to objects and qualities. Verbs, like nouns and adjectives, may be -merely the names of simple recepts, or they may be compounds of other -concepts—in either case differing from nouns and adjectives only in -that they have to do with actions and states. To sow, to dig, to spin, -&c., are names of particular actions; to labour is the name of a more -general action; to live is the symbol of a concept yet more general. -And it is obvious that here, as previously, the more general concepts -are built out of the more special. - -Later on I will adduce evidence to show that, whether we look to -the growing infant or to the history of mankind as newly unearthed -by the researches of the philologist, we alike find that no one of -these divisions of simple concepts—namely, nouns, adjectives, and -verbs—appears to present priority over the others. Or, if there is any -evidence of such priority, it appears to incline in favour of nouns -and verbs. But the point on which I desire to fasten attention at -present is the enormous leverage which is furnished to the faculty of -ideation by thus using words as the mental equivalents of ideas. For by -the help of these symbols we climb into higher and higher regions of -abstraction: by thinking in verbal signs we think, as it were, with the -semblance of ideas: we dispense altogether with the necessity of actual -images, whether of precepts or of recepts: we quit the sphere of sense, -and rise to that of thought. - -Take, for example, another type of abstract ideation, and one which -not only serves better than most to show the importance of signs as -substitutes for ideas, but also best illustrates the extraordinary -results to which such symbolism may lead when carried out persistently. -I refer to mathematics. Of course, before the idea of number or of -relation can arise at all, the faculty of conception must have made -great advances; but let us take this faculty at the point where the -artifice of substituting signs for ideas has gone as far as to enable -a mind to count by means of simple notation. It would clearly be -impossible to conduct the least intricate trains of reasoning which -invoke any ideas of number or proportion, were we deprived of the power -of attaching particular signs to particular ideas of number. We could -not even tell whether a clock had struck eleven or twelve, unless we -were able to mark off each successive stroke with some distinctive -sign; so that when it is said, as it often is, that an animal cannot -count, we must remember that neither could a senior wrangler count -if deprived of his symbols. “Man begins by counting things, grouping -them visibly [_i.e._ by the Logic of Recepts]. He then learns to count -simply the numbers, in the absence of things, using his fingers and -toes for symbols. He then substitutes abstract signs, and Arithmetic -begins. From this he passes to Algebra, the signs of which are not -merely abstract but general; and now he calculates numerical relations, -not numbers. From this he passes to the higher calculus of relations.” - -And just as in mathematics the symbols that are employed contain in -an easily manipulated form enormous bodies of meaning—possibly, -indeed, the entire meaning of a long calculation,—so in all other -kinds of abstract ideation, the symbols which we employ—whether in -gesture, speech, or writing—contain more or less condensed masses of -signification. Or, to take another illustration, which, like the last -example, I quote from Lewes, “It is the same with the development of -commerce. Men begin by exchanging things. They pass to the exchange -of values. First money, then notes or bills, is the symbol of value. -Finally men simply debit and credit one another, so that immense -transactions are effected by means of this equation of equations. The -complicated processes of sowing, reaping, collecting, shipping, and -delivering a quantity of wheat, are condensed into the entry of a few -words in a ledger.” - -Thus, without further treatment, it must be obvious that it is -impossible for us to over-estimate the importance of Language as the -handmaid of Thought. “A sign,” as Sir William Hamilton says, “is -necessary to give stability to our intellectual progress—to establish -each step in our advance as a new starting-point for our advance to -another beyond.... Words are the fortresses of thought. They enable us -to make every intellectual conquest the basis of operations for others -still beyond.” Moreover, thought and language act and react upon one -another; so that, to adopt a happy metaphor from Professor Max Müller, -the growth of thought and language is coral-like. Each shell is the -product of life, but becomes in turn the support of new life. In the -same manner each word is the product of thought, but becomes in turn a -new support for the growth of thought. - -It seems needless to say more in order to show the immense importance -of sign-making to the development of ideation—the fact being one of -universal recognition by writers of every school. I will, therefore, -now pass on to the theme of the present chapter, which is that of -tracing in further detail the _logic_ of this faculty, or the _method_ -of its development. - - * * * * * - -From what I have already said, it may have been gathered that the -simplest concepts are merely the names of recepts; while concepts of a -higher order are the names of other concepts. Just as recepts may be -either memories of particular percepts, or the results of many percepts -(_i.e._ sundry other recepts) grouped as a class; so concepts may be -either names of particular recepts, or the results of many named -recepts (_i.e._ sundry other concepts) grouped as a class. The word -“red,” for example, is my name for a particular recept; but the word -“colour” is my name for a whole group of named recepts. And similarly -with words signifying objects, states, and actions. Hence, we may -broadly distinguish between concepts as of two orders—namely, those -which have to do with recepts, and those which have to do with other -concepts. For a concept is a concept even though it be nothing more -than a named recept; and it is still a concept, even though it stands -for the highest generalization of thought. I will make this distinction -yet more clear by means of better illustrations. - -Water-fowl adopt a somewhat different mode of alighting upon land, or -even upon ice, from that which they adopt when alighting upon water; -and those kinds which dive from a height (such as terns and gannets) -never do so upon land or upon ice. These facts prove that the animals -have one recept answering to a solid substance, and another answering -to a fluid. Similarly, a man will not dive from a height over hard -ground or over ice, nor will he jump into water in the same way as -he jumps upon dry land. In other words, like the water-fowl, he has -two distinct recepts, one of which answers to solid ground, and the -other to an unresisting fluid. But, unlike the water-fowl, he is able -to bestow upon each of these recepts a name, and thus to raise them -both to the level of concepts. So far as the practical purposes of -locomotion are concerned, it is of course immaterial whether or not he -thus raises his recepts into concepts; but, as we have seen, for many -other purposes it is of the highest importance that he is able to do -this. Now, in order to do it, he must be able to set his recept before -his own mind as an object of his own thought: before he can bestow upon -these generic ideas the names of “solid” and “fluid,” he must have -_cognized_ them _as_ ideas. Prior to this act of cognition, these ideas -differed in no respect from the recepts of a water-fowl; neither for -the ordinary requirements of his locomotion is it needful that they -should: therefore, in so far as these requirements are concerned, -the man makes no call upon his higher faculties of ideation. But, in -virtue of this act of cognition, whereby he assigns a name to an idea -known as such, he has created for himself—and for purposes other than -locomotion—a priceless possession: he has formed a concept. - -Nevertheless, the concept which he has formed is an extremely simple -one—amounting, in fact, to nothing more than the naming of one among -the most habitual of his recepts. But it is of the nature of concepts -that, when once formed, they admit of being intentionally compared; -and thus there arises a new possibility in the way of grouping -ideas—namely, no longer by means of sensuous associations, but by -means of symbolic representations. The names of recepts now serve -as symbols of the recepts themselves, and so admit of being grouped -without reference to the sensuous perceptions out of which they -originally sprang. No longer restricted to time, place, circumstance, -or occasion, ideas may now be called up and manipulated at pleasure; -for in this new method of ideation the mind has, as it were, acquired -an _algebra of recepts_: it is no longer necessary that the actual -recepts themselves should be present to sensuous perception, or even -to representative imagination. And as concepts are thus symbols of -recepts, they admit, as I have said, of being compared and combined -without reference to the recepts which they serve to symbolize. Thus we -become able, as it were, to calculate in concepts in a way and to an -extent that would be quite impossible in the merely perceptual medium -of recepts. Now, it is in this algebra of the imagination that all the -higher work of ideation is accomplished; and as the result of long and -elaborate syntheses of concepts we turn out mental products of enormous -intricacy—which, nevertheless, may be embodied in single words. Such -words, for example, as Virtue, Government, Mechanical Equivalent, -stand for immensely more elaborated concepts than the words Solid or -Fluid—seeing that to the former there are no possible equivalents in -the way of recepts. - -Hence I say we must begin by recognizing the great reach of -intellectual territory which is covered by what are called concepts. -At the lowest level they are nothing more than named recepts; beyond -that level they become the names of other concepts; and eventually -they become the named products of the highest and most complex -co-ordinations of concepts which have been achieved by the human mind. -By the term _Lower Concepts_, then, I will understand those which are -nothing more than named recepts, while by the term _Higher Concepts_ I -will understand those which are compounded of other concepts. - - * * * * * - -The next thing I wish to make clear is that concepts of the lower -order of which I speak, notwithstanding that they are the simplest -kind of concepts possible, are already something more than the names -of _particular_ ideas: they are the names of what I have called -_generic_ ideas, or recepts. We may search through the whole dictionary -of any language and not find a single word which stands as a name -for a truly particular idea—_i.e._ for the memory of a particular -percept. Proper names are those which most nearly approach this -character; but even proper names are really names of recepts (as -distinguished from particular percepts), seeing that every object to -which they are applied is a highly complex object, presenting many and -diverse qualities, all of which require to be registered in memory as -appertaining to that object if it is again to be recognized as the same. - -Names, then, are not concerned with particular ideas, strictly so -called: concepts, even of the lowest order, have to do with generic -ideas. Furthermore, the generic ideas with which they have to do are -for the most part highly generic: even before a recept is old enough to -be baptized—or sufficiently far developed to be admitted as a member -of the body conceptual,—it is already a highly organized product -of ideation. We have seen in the last chapter how wonderfully far -the combining power of imagination is able to go without the aid of -language; and the consequence of this is, that before the advent of -language mind is already stored with a rich accumulation of orderly -ideas, grouped together in many systems of logical coherency. When, -therefore, the advent of language does take place, it is needless that -this work of logical grouping should be recommenced _ab initio_. What -language does is to take up the work of grouping where it has been left -by generic ideation; and if it is found expedient to name any generic -ideas, it is the more generic as well as the less generic that are -selected for the purpose. In short, immense as is the organizing power -of the Logos, it does not come upon the scene of its creative power to -find only that which is without form and void: rather does it find a -fair structure of no mean order of system, shaped by prior influences, -and, so far as thus shaped, a veritable cosmos. - -Again, all concepts in their last resort depend on recepts, just as -in their turn recepts depend on percepts. This fact admits of being -abundantly proved, not only by general considerations, but also by the -etymological derivation of abstract terms. The most highly abstract -terms are derived from terms less abstract, and these from others -still less abstract, until, by two or three such steps at the most, -we are in all cases led directly back to their origin in a “lower -concept”—_i.e._ in the name of a recept. As I will prove later on, -there is no abstract word or general term in any language which, if its -origin admits of being traced at all, is not found to have its root -in the name of a recept. Concepts, therefore, are originally nothing -more than named recepts; and hence it is _a priori_ impossible that any -concept can be formed unless it does eventually rest upon the basis -of recepts. Owing to the elaboration which it subsequently undergoes -in the region of symbolism, it may, indeed, so far cease to bear any -likeness to its parentage that it is only the philologist who can -trace its lineage. When we speak of Virtue, we need no longer think -about a man, nor need we make any conscious reference to the steering -of a ship when we use the word Government. But it is none the less -obvious that both these highly abstract words have originated in the -naming of recepts (the one of an object, the other of an action); and -that their subsequent elevation in the scale of generality has been -due to a progressive widening of conceptual significance at the hands -of symbolical thought. In other words, and to revert to my previous -terminology, “higher concepts” can in no case originate _de novo_: they -can only be born of “lower concepts,” which, in turn, are the progeny -of recepts. - - * * * * * - -I must now recur to a point with which we were concerned at the close -of the last chapter. I there showed that the kind of classification, -or mental grouping of ideas, which goes to constitute the logic of -recepts, differs from the mental grouping of ideas which constitutes -the logic of concepts, in that while the former has to do with -similarities which are most obvious to perception, and therefore with -analogies which most obtrude themselves upon attention, the latter -have to do with similarities which are least obvious to perception, -and therefore with analogies which are least readily apparent to the -senses. Classification there is in both cases; but while in the one it -depends on the closeness of the resemblances in an act of perception, -in the other it is expressive of their remoteness. Now, from this it -follows that the more conceptual the classification, the less obvious -to immediate perception are the similarities between the things -classified; and, consequently, the higher a generalization the greater -must be the distance by which it is removed from the merely automatic -groupings of receptual ideation. - -For example, the earliest classification of the animal kingdom with -which we are acquainted, grouped together, under the common designation -of “creeping things,” articulata, mollusca, reptiles, amphibia, and -even certain mammals, such as weasels, &c. Here, it is evident, the -classification reposed only on the very superficial resemblances -which are exhibited by these various creatures in their modes of -locomotion. As yet conceptual thought had not been directed to the -anatomy of animals; and, therefore, when it undertook a classification -of animals, in the first instance it went no further than to note the -most obvious differences as to external form and movement. In other -words, this earliest conceptual classification was little more than the -verbal statement of a receptual classification. But when the science -of comparative anatomy was inaugurated by the Greeks, a much more -conceptual classification of animals emerged—although the importance -of anything like a systematic arrangement of the animal kingdom as -a whole was so little appreciated that it does not appear to have -been attempted, even by Aristotle. For, marvellous as is the advance -of conceptual grouping here displayed by him, he confined himself -to drawing anatomical comparisons between one group of animals and -another; he neither had any idea of group subordinate to group which -afterwards constituted the leading principle of taxonomic research, nor -does he anywhere give a tabular statement of his own results, such as -he could scarcely have failed to give had he appreciated the importance -of classifying the animal kingdom as a systematic whole. Lastly, since -the time of Ray the best thought of the best naturalists has been -bestowed upon this work, with the result that conceptual ideation has -continuously ascended through wider and wider generalizations, or -generalizations more and more chastened by the intentional and combined -accumulations of knowledge. How enormous, then, is the contrast between -the first simple attempt at classification as made by the early Jews, -and the elaborate body of abstract thought which is presented by the -taxonomic science of to-day. - -Similar illustrations might be drawn from any of the other departments -of conceptual evolution, because everywhere such evolution essentially -consists in the achievement of ideal integrations further and further -removed from simple perceptions. Or, as Sir W. Hamilton puts it, “by a -first generalization we have obtained a number of classes of resembling -individuals. But these classes we can compare together, observe their -similarities, abstract from their differences, and bestow on their -common circumstance a common name. On the second classes we can again -perform the same operation, and thus, ascending through the scale of -general notions, throwing out of view always a greater number of -differences, and seizing always on fewer similarities in the formation -of our classes, we arrive at length at the limit of our ascent in the -notion of being or existence.”[54] - -Now, the point on which I wish to be perfectly clear about is, that -this process of conceptual ideation, whereby ideas become general, must -be carefully distinguished from the processes of receptual ideation, -whereby ideas become generic. For these latter processes consist in -particular ideas, which are given immediately in sense perception, -becoming by association of similarity or contiguity automatically fused -together; so that out of a number of such associated percepts there is -formed a recept, without the need of any intentional co-operation of -the mind in the matter. On the other hand, a general idea, or concept, -can only be formed by the mind itself intentionally classifying its -recepts known as such—or, in the case of creating “higher concepts,” -performing the same process with its already acquired general ideas, -for the purpose of constructing ideas still more general. A generic -idea, then, is generalized in the sense that a naturalist speaks of a -lowly organism as generalized—_i.e._ as not yet differentiated into -the groups of higher and more specialized structures that subsequently -emanate therefrom. But a general idea is generalized in the sense of -comprising a group of such higher and more specialized structures, -already formed and named under a common designation with reference to -their points of resemblance. Classification there is in all cases; but -in the receptual order it is automatic, while in the conceptual order -it is introspective. - - * * * * * - -So far as my analysis has hitherto gone, I do not anticipate criticism -or dissent from any psychologist, to whatever school he may belong. But -there is one matter of subordinate importance which I may here most -conveniently dispose of, although my views with regard to it may not -meet with universal assent. - -It appears to me an obvious feature of our introspective life that we -are able to carry on elaborate processes of ideation without the aid -of words—or, to put it paradoxically, that we are able to conceive -without concepts. I am, of course, aware that this apparently obvious -power of being able to think without any mental rehearsal of verbal -signs (the _verbum mentale_ of scholasticism) is denied by several -writers of good standing—notably, for instance, by Professor Max -Müller, who seeks with much elaboration to prove that “not only to a -considerable extent, but always and altogether, we think by means of -names.”[55] Now this statement appears to me either a truism or untrue: -it is either tautological in expression, or erroneous in fact. If we -restrict the term “thought” to the operation of naming, it is merely a -truism to say that there can be no thought without language; for this -is merely to say that there can be no naming without names. But if -the term “thought” is taken to cover all processes of ideation which -we do not share with brutes, I hold that the statement is opposed to -obvious fact; and, therefore, I agree with the long array of logicians -and philosophers whom Professor Max Müller quotes as showing what he -calls “hesitation” in accepting a doctrine which in his opinion is -the inevitable conclusion of Nominalism. For to me it appears evident -that within the region of concepts, the frequent handling of those -with which the mind is familiar enables the mind to deal with them in -somewhat the same automatic manner as, on a lower plane of coordinated -action, the pianist deals with his chords and phrases. Whereas at first -it required intentional and laborious effort to perform these many -varied and complex adjustments, by practice their performance passes -more and more out of the range of conscious effort, until they come -to be executed in a manner well-nigh mechanical. So in the case of -purely mental operations, even of the highest order. At first every -link in the chain of ideation requires to be separately fastened to -attention by means of a word: every step in a process of reasoning -requires to be taken on the solid basis of a proposition. But by -frequent habit the thinking faculty ceases to be thus restricted: it -passes, so to speak, from one end of the chain to the other without -requiring to pause at every link: for its original stepping-stones it -has substituted a bridge, over which it can pass almost at a bound. -Or, again, to change the metaphor, there arises a method of short-hand -thinking, wherein even the symbols of ideas (concepts) need no longer -appear in consciousness: judgment follows judgment in logical sequence, -yet without any articulate expression by the _verbum mentale_. This, I -say, is a matter of fact which it appears to me a very small amount of -introspection is enough to verify. On reading a letter, for instance, -we may instantaneously decide upon our answer, and yet have to pause -before we are able to frame the propositions needed to express that -answer. Or, while writing an essay, how often does one feel, so to -speak, that a certain truth stands to be stated, although it is a truth -which we cannot immediately put into words. We know, in a general way, -that a truth is _there_, but we cannot supply the vehicle which is to -bring it _here_; and it is not until we have tried many devices, each -of which involve long trains of sequent propositions, that we begin -to find the satisfaction of rendering explicit in language what was -previously implicit in thought. Again, in playing a game of chess we -require to take cognizance of many and complex relations, actual and -contingent; so that to play the game as it deserves to be played, we -must make a heavy demand on our powers of abstract thinking. Yet in -doing this we do not require to preach a silent monologue as to all -that we might do, and all that may be done by our opponent. Lastly, to -give only one other illustration, in some forms of aphasia the patient -has lost every trace of verbal memory, and yet his faculties of thought -for all the practical purposes of life are not materially impaired. - -On the whole, therefore, I conclude that, although language is a -needful condition to the _original construction_ of conceptional -thought, when once the building has been completed, the scaffolding -may be withdrawn, and yet leave the edifice as stable as before. In -this way familiar concepts become, as it were, degraded into recepts, -but recepts of a degree of complexity and organization which would not -have been possible but for their conceptional parentage. With Geiger we -may say, “So ist denn überall die Sprache primar, der Begriff entsteht -durch das Wort.”[56] Yet this does not hinder that with Friedrich -Müller we should add, “Sprechen ist nicht Denken, sondern es ist nur -Ausdruck des Denkens.”[57] - - * * * * * - -With the exception of the last paragraph, my analysis, as already -observed, will probably not be impugned by any living psychologist, -either of the evolutionary or non-evolutionary schools; for, with the -exception of this paragraph, I have purposely arranged my argument so -as thus far to avoid debatable questions. And it will be observed that -even this paragraph has really nothing to do with the issue which lies -before us; seeing that the question with which it deals is concerned -only with intellectual processes exclusively human. But now, after -having thus fully prepared the way by a somewhat lengthy clearing of -preliminary ground, we have to proceed to the question whether it -is conceivable that the faculty of speech, with all the elaborate -structure of ideation to which it has led, can have arisen by way of a -natural genesis from the lower faculties of mind. As we have now seen, -it is on all hands agreed that the one and only distinction between -human and animal psychology consists in the former presenting this -faculty which, otherwise stated, means, as we have likewise seen, the -power of translating ideas into symbols, and using these symbols in the -stead of ideas. - -This, I say, is the one distinction upon which all are agreed; the only -question is as to whether it is a distinction of kind or of degree. -Since the time when the ancient Greeks applied the same word to denote -the faculty of language and the faculty of thought, the philosophical -propriety of the identification has become more and more apparent. -Obscured as the truth may have become for a time through the fogs of -Realism, discussion of centuries has fully cleared the philosophical -atmosphere so far as this matter is concerned. Hence, in these latter -days, the only question here presented to the evolutionist is—Why has -no mere brute ever learnt to communicate with its fellows? Why has man -alone of animals been gifted with the Logos? To answer this question we -must undertake a somewhat laborious investigation of the philosophy of -Language. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -LANGUAGE. - - -Etymologically the word Language means sign-making by means of the -tongue, _i.e._ articulate speech. But in a wider sense the word is -habitually used to designate sign-making in general, as when we speak -of the “finger-language” of the deaf-and-dumb, the “language of -flowers,” &c. Or, as Professor Broca says, “there are several kinds -of language; every system of signs which gives expression to ideas -in a manner more or less intelligible, more or less perfect, or more -or less rapid, is a language in the general sense of the word. Thus -speech, gesture, dactylology, writing both hieroglyphic and phonetic, -are all so many kinds of language. There is, then, a general faculty of -language which presides over all these modes of expression, and which -may be defined—the faculty of establishing a constant relation between -an idea and a sign, be this a sound, a gesture, a figure, or a drawing -of any kind.” - -The best classification of the sundry exhibitions of sign-making -faculty which I have met with, is one that is given by Mr. Mivart in -his _Lessons from Nature_ (p. 83). This classification, therefore, I -will render in his own words. - -“We may altogether distinguish six different kinds of language:— - -“1. Sounds which are neither articulate nor rational, such as cries of -pain, or the murmur of a mother to her infant. - -“2. Sounds which are articulate but not rational, such as the talk of -parrots, or of certain idiots, who will repeat, without comprehending, -every phrase they hear. - -“3. Sounds which are rational but not articulate, ejaculations by which -we sometimes express assent to, or dissent from, given propositions. - -“4. Sounds which are both rational and articulate, constituting true -speech. - -“5. Gestures which do not answer to rational conceptions, but are -merely the manifestations of emotions and feelings. - -“6. Gestures which do answer to rational conceptions, and are therefore -‘external,’ but not oral manifestations of the _verbum mentale_.” - -To this list of the “Categories of Language” a seventh must be added, -to contain all kinds of written signs; but with such obvious addition -I assent to the classification, as including all the species that -can possibly be included under the genus Language, and therefore as -excluding none. - -Now the first thing to be noticed is, that the signs made may be made -either intentionally or unintentionally; and the next is, that the -division of intentional signs may be conveniently subdivided into two -classes—namely, intentional signs which are natural, and intentional -signs which are conventional. - -The subdivision of conventional signs may further be split into -those which are due to past associations, and those which are due -to inferences from present experience. A dog which “begs” for food, -or a parrot which puts down its head to be scratched, may do so -merely because past experience has taught the animal that by so -doing it receives the gratification it desires; here is no need for -reason—_i.e._ inference—to come into play. But if the animal has had -no such previous experience, and therefore could not know by special -association that such a particular gesture, or sign, would lead to -such a particular consequence, and if under such circumstances a dog -should see another dog beg, and should imitate the gesture on observing -the result to which it led; or if under such analogous circumstances -a parrot should spontaneously depress its head for the purpose of -making an expressive gesture,—then the sign might strictly be termed a -rational one. - -But it is evident that rational signs admit of almost numberless -degrees of complexity and elaboration; so that reason itself does -not present a greater variety of manifestations in this respect than -does the symbolism whereby it is expressed: an algebraical formula is -included in the same category of sign-making as the simplest gesture -whereby we intentionally communicate the simplest idea. Rational signs, -therefore, may be made by gesture, by tone, by articulation, or by -writing—using each of these words in its largest sense.[58] - -The following schema may serve to show this classification in a -diagrammatic form—_i.e._ the classification which I have myself -arrived at, and which follows closely the one given by Mr. Mivart. -Indeed, there is no difference at all between the two, save that I have -endeavoured to express the distinction between signs as intentional, -unintentional, natural, conventional, emotional, and intellectual. The -subdivision of the latter into denotative, connotative, denominative, -and predicative, will be explained in Chapter VIII. - - -[Illustration: LANGUAGE, OR SIGN-MAKING.] - -Or, neglecting the unintentional and merely initiative signs as not, -properly speaking, signs at all, every kind of intentional sign may be -represented diagrammatically as in the illustration opposite. - -Now, thus far we have been dealing with matters of fact concerning -which I do not think there can be any question. That is to say, no one -can deny any of the statements which this schema serves to express; -a difference of opinion can only arise when it is asked whether the -sundry faculties (or cases) presented by the schema are developmentally -continuous with one another. To this topic, therefore, we shall now -address ourselves. - -First let it be observed that there can be no dispute about one point, -namely, that all the faculties or cases presented by the schema, with -the single exception of the last (No. 7), are common to animals and -men. Therefore we may begin by taking as beyond the reach of question -the important fact that animals do present, in an unmistakable manner, -a _germ_ of the sign-making faculty. But this fact is so important in -its relation to our subject, that I shall here pause to consider the -modes and degrees in which the faculty is exhibited by animals. - - * * * * * - -Huber says that when one wasp finds a store of honey, “it returns -to the nest and brings off in a short time a hundred other wasps;” -and this statement is confirmed by Dujardin. Again, the very able -observer, F. Müller, writes, in one of his letters to Mr. Darwin, that -he observed a queen bee depositing her eggs in a nest of 47 cells. In -the process she overlooked four of the cells, and when she had filled -the other 43, supposing her work to have been completed, prepared to -retire. “But as she had overlooked the four cells of the new comb, the -workers ran impatiently from this part to the queen, pushing her in an -odd manner with their heads, as they did also the other workers they -met with. In consequence, the queen began again to go round on the two -older combs; but, as she did not find any cell wanting an egg, she -tried to descend, yet everywhere she was pushed back by the workers. -This contest lasted rather a long while, till the queen escaped without -having completed her work. Thus the workers knew how to advise the -queen that something was yet to be done; but they knew not how to show -her where it had to be done.” - -[Illustration] - -According to De Fravière, Landois, and some other observers, bees -have a number of different notes, or tones, whereby they communicate -information to one another;[59] but there seems to be little doubt -that the means chiefly employed are gestures made with the antennæ. -For example, Huber divided a hive into two chambers by means of a -partition: great excitement prevailed in the half of the hive deprived -of the queen, and the bees set to work to build royal cells for the -creation of a new queen. Huber then divided a hive in exactly the same -manner, with the difference only that the screen, or partition, was -made of trellis work, through the openings of which the bees on either -side could pass their antennæ. Under these circumstances the bees in -the queenless half of the hive exhibited no disturbance, nor did they -construct any royal cells: the bees in the other, or separated, half of -the hive were able to inform them that the queen was safe. - -Turning now to ants, the extent to which the power of communicating by -signs is here carried cannot fail to strike us as highly remarkable. -In my work on _Animal Intelligence_ I have given many observations by -different naturalists on this head, the general results of which I will -here render. - -When we consider the high degree to which ants carry the principle -of co-operation, it is evident that they must have some means of -intercommunication. This is especially true of the Ecitons, which -so strangely mimic the tactics of military organization. “The army -marches in the form of a rather broad and regular column, hundreds of -yards in length. The object of the march is the capture and plunder of -other insects, &c., for food; and as the well-organized host advances, -its devastating legions set all other terrestrial life at defiance. -From the main column there are sent out smaller lateral columns, the -component individuals of which play the part of scouts, branching off -in various directions, and searching about with the utmost activity for -insects, grubs, &c., over every log, under every fallen leaf, and in -every nook and cranny where there is any chance of finding prey. When -their errand is completed, they return into the main column. If the -prey found is sufficiently small for the scouts themselves to manage, -it is immediately seized, and carried back to the main column; but if -the amount is too large for the scouts to deal with alone, messengers -are sent back to the main column, whence there is immediately -despatched a detachment large enough to cope with the requirements.... -On either side of the main column there are constantly running up and -down a few individuals of smaller size and lighter colour than the -other ants, which seem to play the part of officers; for they never -leave their stations, and while running up and down the outsides of the -column, they every now and again stop to touch antennæ with some member -of the rank and file, as if to give instructions. When the scouts -discover a wasps’-nest in a tree, a strong force is sent out from the -main army, the nest is pulled to pieces, and all the larvæ carried to -the rear of the army, while the wasps fly around defenceless against -the invading multitude. Or, if the nest of any other species of ant -is found, a similarly strong force—or perhaps the whole army—is -deflected towards it, and with the utmost energy the innumerable -insects set to work to sink shafts and dig mines till the whole nest -is rifled of its contents. In these mining operations the ants work -with an extraordinary display of organized co-operation; for those low -down in the shafts do not lose time by carrying up the earth which they -excavate, but pass the pellets to those above; and the ants on the -surface, when they receive the pellets, carry them—with an appearance -of forethought which quite staggered Mr. Bates—only just far enough to -insure that they shall not roll back again into the shaft, and, after -depositing them, immediately hurry back for more. But there is not a -rigid (or merely mechanical) division of labour: the work seems to be -performed by intelligent co-operation amongst a host of eager little -creatures; for some of them act at one time as carriers of pellets, and -at another as miners, while all shortly afterwards assume the office of -conveyers of the spoil.”[60] - -Mr. Belt writes:—“The Ecitons and most other ants follow each other by -scent, and I believe they can communicate the presence of danger, of -booty, or other intelligence to a distance by the different intensity -or qualities of the odours given off. I one day saw a column running -along the foot of a nearly perpendicular tramway cutting, the side -of which was about six feet high. At one point I noticed a sort of -assembly of about a dozen individuals that appeared in consultation. -Suddenly one ant left the conclave, and ran with great speed up the -perpendicular face of the cutting without stopping.... On gaining -the top of the cutting, the ants entered some brushwood suitable for -hunting. In a very short time the information was communicated to the -ants below, and a dense column rushed up in search of prey.” - -Again, Mr. Bates writes:—“When I interfered with the column, or -abstracted an individual from it, news of the disturbance was quickly -communicated to a distance of several yards to the rear, and the -column at that point commenced retreating.” - -On arriving at a stream of water, the marching column first endeavours -to find some natural bridge whereby to cross it. Should no such bridge -be found, “they travel along the bank of the river until they arrive -at a flat sandy shore. Each ant now seizes a bit of dry wood, pulls -it into the water and mounts thereon. The hinder rows push the front -ones farther out, holding on to the wood with their feet and to their -comrades with their jaws. In a short time the water is covered with -ants, and when the raft has grown too large to be held together by the -small creatures’ strength, a part breaks itself off, and begins the -journey across, while the ants left on the bank pull the bits of wood -into the water, and work at enlarging the ferry-boat until it breaks -again. This is repeated as long as an ant remains on shore.”[61] - -So much, then, to give a general idea of the extent to which -co-operation is exhibited by Ecitons—a fact which must be taken to -depend upon some system of signs. Turning next to still more definite -evidence of communication, Mr. Hague, the geologist, writing to Mr. -Darwin from South America, says that on the mantel-shelf of his -sitting-room there were three vases habitually filled with fresh -flowers. A nest of red ants discovered these flowers, and formed a -line to them, constantly passing upwards and downwards between the -mantel-shelf and the floor, and also between the mantel-shelf and the -ceiling. For several days in succession Mr. Hague frequently brushed -the ants in great numbers from the wall to the floor, but, as they -were not killed, the line again reformed. One day, however, he killed -with his finger some of the ants upon the mantel-shelf. “The effect of -this was immediate and unexpected. As soon as those ants which were -approaching arrived near to where their fellows lay dead and suffering, -they turned and fled with all possible haste. In half an hour the wall -above the mantel-shelf was cleared of ants. During the space of an -hour or two the colony from below continued to ascend until reaching -the lower bevelled edge of the shelf, at which point the more timid -individuals, although unable to see the vase, somehow became aware of -the trouble, and turned without further investigation; while the more -daring advanced hesitatingly just to the upper edge of the shelf, when, -extending their antennæ and stretching their necks, they seemed to peep -cautiously over the edge until they beheld their suffering companions, -when they too turned and followed the others, expressing by their -behaviour great excitement and terror. An hour or two later the path -or trail leading from the lower colony to the vase was entirely free -from ants.... A curious and invariable feature of their behaviour was -that when an ant, returning in fright, met another approaching, the two -would always communicate; but each would pursue its own way, the second -ant continuing its journey to the spot where the first ant had turned -about, and then following that example. For some days after this there -were no ants visible on the wall, either above or below the shelf. -Then a few ants from the lower colony began to reappear; but instead -of visiting the vase, which had been the scene of the disaster, they -avoided it altogether, and, following the lower front edge of the shelf -to the tumbler standing near the middle, made their attack upon that -with precisely the same result.” - -Lastly, Sir John Lubbock made some experiments with the express purpose -of testing the power of communication by ants. He found that if an ant -discovered a deposit of larvæ outside the nest, she would return to the -nest, and, even though she might have no larvæ to show, was able to -communicate her need of assistance—a number of friends proceeding to -follow her as a guide to the heap of larvæ which she had found. - -In one very instructive experiment Sir John arranged three parallel -pieces of tape, each about two and a half feet long: one end of each -piece of tape was attached to the nest, and the other dipped into a -glass vessel. In the glass at the end of one of the tapes he placed a -considerable number of larvæ (300 to 600): in the glass at the end of -another of the pieces he put only two or three larvæ, while the third -glass he left empty. The object of the empty glass was to see whether -any of the ants would come to the glass under such circumstances by -mere accident. He then took two ants, one of which he placed in the -glass with the many larvæ, and the other in the glass with the few. -Each ant took a larva, carried it to the nest, then returned for more, -and so on. After each journey he put another larva in the glass with -the few larvæ, in order to replace the one which had been removed. The -result of the experiment was that during 47½ hours the ants which had -gone to the glass containing numerous larvæ brought 257 friends to -their assistance, while during 53 hours those which had gone to the -glass containing only two or three larvæ brought only 82 friends; and -no single ant came to the glass which contained no larva. Now, as all -the glasses were exposed to similar conditions, and as the roads to the -first two must, in the first instance at all events, have been equally -scented by the passage of ants over them, these results appear very -conclusive as proving some power of definite communication, not only -that larvæ are to be found, but even where the largest store is to be -met with. - -As to the means of communication, or method of sign-making, there can -be no doubt that this in ants, as in bees, is mainly gestures made -by the antennæ; but that gestures of other kinds are also employed -is sufficiently well proved by the following observation of the -Rev. Dr. M’Cook. “I have seen an ant kneel down before another and -thrust forward the head, drooping quite under in fact, and lie there -motionless, thus expressing as plainly as sign-language could, her -desire to be cleansed. I at once understood the gesture, and so did the -supplicated ant, for she at once went to work.” - -So much, then, for the power of sign-making displayed by the -Hymenoptera. As I have not much evidence of sign-making in any of the -other Invertebrata,[62] I shall pass on at once to the Vertebrata. - -Ray observed the different tones used by the common hen, and found -them uniformly significant of different ideas, or emotional states; -therefore we may properly regard this as a system of language, though -of a very rudimentary form. He distinguishes altogether nine or ten -distinct tones, which are severally significant of as many distinct -emotions and ideas—namely, brooding, leading forth the brood, finding -food, alarm, seeking shelter, anger, pain, fear, joy or pride in having -laid an egg. Houzeau, who independently observed this matter, says that -the hen utters at least twelve significant sounds.[63] - -Many other cases could be given among Birds, and a still greater number -among Mammals, of vocal tones being used as intentionally significant -of states of feeling and of definite ideas; but to save space I will -only render a few facts in a condensed form. - -“In Paraguay, the _Cebus azaræ_ when excited utters at least six -distinct sounds, which excite in other monkeys similar emotions -(Rengger).... It is a more remarkable fact that the dog, since being -domesticated, has learned to bark in at least four or five distinct -tones: ... the bark of eagerness, as in the chase; that of anger, as -well as growling; the yelp, or howl of despair, when shut up; the -baying at night; the bark of joy when starting on a walk with his -master; and the very distinct one of demand or supplication, as when -wishing for a door or window to be opened.”[64] - -I may next briefly add allusions to those instances of the use of -signs by mammals which are fully detailed in _Animal Intelligence_. - -Mr. S. Goodbehere tells me of a pony which used to push back the inside -bolt of a gate in its paddock, and neigh for an ass which was loose in -the yard beyond; the ass would then come and push up the outside latch, -thus opening the gate and releasing the pony (p. 333). - -With respect to gestures, Mrs. K. Addison wrote me of her -jackdaw—which lived in a garden, and which she usually supplied with a -bath—reminding her that she had forgotten to place the bath, by coming -before her and going through the movements of ablution upon the ground -(p. 316). - -Youatt gives the case of a pig which was trained to point game with -great precision (pp. 339, 340), and this, as in the case of the dog, -implies a high development of the sign-making faculty. Every sportsman -must know how well a setter understands its own pointing, _and also the -pointing of other dogs_, as gesture-signs. As regards its own pointing, -if at any distance from the sportsman, the animal will look back to -see if the “point” has been noticed; and, if it has, the point will be -much more “steady” and prolonged than if the animal sees that it has -not been observed. As regards the pointing of other dogs, the “backing” -of one by another means that as soon as one dog sees another dog point -he also stands and points, whether or not he is in a position to scent -the game. In my previous work, while treating of artificial instincts, -I have shown (as Mr. Darwin had previously remarked) that in well-bred -sporting dogs a tendency to “back,” more or less pronounced, is -intuitive. But I have also observed among my own setters that even in -cases where a young dog does not show any innate disposition to “back,” -by working him with other dogs for a short time he soon acquires the -habit, without any other instruction than that which is supplied by his -own observation. I have also noticed that all sporting dogs are liable -to be deceived by the attitude which their companions strike when -defæcating; but this is probably due to their line of sight being so -much lower than that of a man, that slight differences of attitude are -not so perceptible to them as to ourselves. - -Major Skinner writes of a large wild elephant which he saw on a -moonlight night coming out of a wood that skirted some water. -Cautiously advancing across the open ground to within a hundred yards -of the water, the animal stood perfectly motionless—the rest of the -herd, still concealed in the wood, being all the while so quiet and -motionless that not the least sound proceeded from them. Gradually, -after three successive advances, halting some minutes after each, he -moved up to the water’s edge, in which however he did not think proper -to quench his thirst, but remained for several minutes listening in -perfect stillness. He then returned cautiously and slowly to the point -at which he had issued from the wood, whence he came back with five -other elephants, with which he proceeded, somewhat less slowly than -before, to within a few yards of the tank, where he posted them as -patrols. He then re-entered the wood and collected the whole herd, -which must have amounted to between eighty and a hundred, and led them -across the open ground, with the most extraordinary composure and -quiet, till they came up to the five sentinels, when he left them for -a moment and again made a reconnaissance at the edge of the tank. At -last, being apparently satisfied that all was safe, he turned back, -and obviously gave the order to advance; “for in a moment,” says -Major Skinner, “the whole herd rushed to the water, with a degree of -unreserved confidence so opposite to the caution and timidity which had -marked their previous movements, that nothing will ever persuade me -that there was not rational and preconcerted co-operation throughout -the whole party”—and so, of course, some definite communication by -signs (p. 401). - -With regard to the use of gesture-signs by cats, I have given such -cases as those of their imitating the begging of a terrier on observing -that the terrier received food in answer to this gesture (p. 414); -making a peculiar noise on desiring to have a door opened, which, if -not attended to, was followed up by “pulling one’s dress with its -claws, and then, having succeeded in attracting the desired attention, -it would walk to the street door and stop there, making the same cry -until let out” (p. 414); also of a cat which, on seeing her friend -the parrot “flapping its wings and struggling violently up to its -knees in dough,” ran upstairs after the cook to inform her of the -catastrophe—“mewing and making what signs she could for her to go -down,” till at last “she jumped up, seized her apron, and tried to drag -her down,” so that the cook did go down in time to save the bird from -being smothered. This gesture-sign of pulling at clothing, in order to -induce one to visit a scene of catastrophe, is of frequent occurrence -both in cats and dogs. Several instances are likewise given of cats -jumping on chairs and looking at bells when they want milk (this being -intended as a sign that they desire the bell pulled to call the servant -who brings the milk), placing their paws upon the bell as a still more -emphatic sign, or even themselves ringing the bell (p. 416). - -Concerning gesture-signs made by dogs (other than pointing), I may -allude to a terrier which I had, and which when thirsty used to signify -his desire for water by begging before a wash-stand, or any other -object where he knew that water was habitually kept. And Sir John -Lefroy, F.R.S., gave me a similar, though still more striking, case of -his terrier, which it was the duty of a maid-servant to supply with -milk. One morning this servant was engaged on some needlework, and did -not supply the milk. “The dog endeavoured in every possible way to -attract her attention and draw her forth, and at last pushed aside the -curtain of a closet, and, although never having been taught to fetch or -carry, took between his teeth the cup she habitually used, and brought -it to her feet” (p. 466). Another case somewhat similar is given on the -same page. - -Again, Mr. A. H. Browning wrote me:—“My attention was called to my dog -appearing in a great state of excitement, not barking (he seldom barks) -but whining, and performing all sorts of antics (in a human subject I -should have said _gesticulating_). The herdmen and myself returned to -the sty; we caught but one pig, and put him back; no sooner had we done -so, than the dog ran after each pig in succession, brought him back to -the sty by the ear, and then went after another, until the whole number -were again housed” (p. 450). - -Further, I give an observation of my own (p. 445) on one terrier making -a gesture-sign to another. Terrier A being asleep in my house, and -terrier B lying on a wall outside, a strange dog, C, ran along below -the wall on the public road following a dog-cart. Immediately on seeing -C, B jumped off the wall, ran upstairs to where A was asleep, woke him -up by poking him with his nose in a determined and suggestive manner, -which A at once understood as a sign: he jumped over the wall and -pursued the dog C, although C was by that time far out of sight, round -a bend in the road. - -On page 447 I give, on the authority of Dr. Beattie, the case of a -dog which saved his master’s life (who had fallen through the ice, -and was supporting himself with a gun placed across the opening), by -running into a neighbouring village, and pulling a man by the coat in -so significant a manner that he followed the animal and rescued the -gentleman. Many cases more or less similar to this one are recorded in -the anecdote books. - -Concerning the use of gesture-signs by monkeys, I give on page 472 the -remarkable case recorded by James Forbes, F.R.S., of a male monkey -begging the body of a female which had just been shot. “The animal,” -says Forbes, “came to the door of the tent, and, finding threats of -no avail, began a lamentable moaning, and by the most expressive -gestures seemed to beg for the dead body. It was given him; he took it -sorrowfully in his arms and bore it away to his expecting companions. -They who were witnesses of this extraordinary scene resolved never -again to fire at one of the monkey race.” - -Again, Captain Johnson writes of a monkey which he shot upon a tree, -and which then, as he says, “instantly ran down to the lowest branch of -a tree, as if he were going to fly at me, stopped suddenly, and coolly -put his paw to the part wounded, covered with blood, and held it out -for me to see. I was so much hurt at the time that it has left an -impression never to be effaced, and I have never since fired a gun at -any of the tribe. Almost immediately on my return to the party, before -I had fully described what had passed, a Syer came to inform us that -the monkey was dead. We ordered the Syer to bring it to us; but by the -time he returned the other monkeys had carried the dead one off, and -none of them could anywhere be seen” (p. 475). - -And Sir William Hoste records a closely similar case. One of his -officers, coming home after a long day’s shooting, saw a female -monkey running along the rocks, with her young one in her arms. He -immediately fired, and the animal fell. On his coming up, she grasped -her little one close to her breast, and with her other hand pointed -to the wound which the ball had made, and which had entered above her -breast. Dipping her finger in the blood and holding it up, she seemed -to reproach him with having been the cause of her pain, and also of -that of the young one, to which she frequently pointed. “I never,” says -Sir William, “felt so much as when I heard the story, and I determined -never to shoot one of these animals as long as I lived” (p. 476). - -Lastly, as proof that the more intelligent of the lower animals admit -of being _taught the use of signs of the most conventional character_ -(or most remote from any natural expression of their feelings and -ideas), I may allude to the recent experiments by Sir John Lubbock -on “teaching animals to converse.” These experiments consisted in -writing on separate and similar cards such words as “bone,” “water,” -“out,” “pet me,” &c., and teaching a dog to bring a card bearing the -word expressive of his want at the time of bringing it. In this way -an association of ideas was established between the appearance of a -certain number and form of written signs, and the meaning which they -severally betokened. Sir John Lubbock found that his dog learnt the -correct use of those signs.[65] Of course in these experiments marks -of any other kind would have served as well as written words; for it -clearly would be absurd to suppose that the dog could read the letters, -so as mentally to construct them into the equivalent of a spoken -word, in any such way as a child would spell b-o-n-e, bone. But, all -the same, these experiments are of great interest as showing that it -falls within the mental capacity of the more intelligent animals to -appreciate the use of signs so conventional as those which constitute -a stage of writing _above_ the drawing of pictures, and _below_ the -employment of an alphabet. - - * * * * * - -Enough has now been said to prove incontestably that animals present -what I have called the germ of the sign-making faculty. As the main -object of these chapters is to estimate the probability of human -language having arisen by way of a continuous development from this -germ, we may next turn to take a general survey of human language in -its largest sense, or as comprising all the manifestations of the -sign-making faculty. - -Referring again to the schema (page 88), it is needless to consider -cases 1 and 2, for evidently these are on a psychological level in man -and animals. Case 3, also, especially in the direction of its branch -4, is to a large extent psychologically equivalent in men and animals: -so far as there is any difference it depends on the higher psychical -nature of man being much more rich in ideas which find their natural -expression in gestures or tones, and which, therefore, are impossible -in brutes. But it will be conceded that here there is nothing to -explain. The fact that man has a mind more richly endowed with ideas -carries with it, as a matter of course, the fact that their natural -expression is more multiplex. - -The case, however, is different when we arrive at conventional signs; -for these attain so enormous a development in man as compared with -animals, that the question whether they do not really depend on some -additional mental faculty, distinct in kind, becomes fully admissible. - -The first thing, then, we have to notice with regard to conventional -signs as used by man is, that no line of strict demarcation can be -drawn between them and natural signs; the latter shade off into the -former by gradations, which it becomes impossible to detect over large -numbers of individual cases. With respect to tones, for example, it -cannot be said, in many instances, whether this and that modulation, -which is now recognized as expressive of a certain state of feeling, -has always been thus expressive, or has only become so by conventional -habit; although, if we consider the different tones by which different -races of mankind express some of their similar feelings, we may be sure -that in these cases one or other of the differences must be due to -conventional habit—just as in the converse cases, in which all mankind -use the same tones to express the same feelings, we may be sure that -this mode of expression is natural. And so with gestures. Many which at -first sight we should, judging from our own feelings alone, suppose to -be natural—such, for instance, as kissing—are shown by observation -of primitive races to be conventional; while others which we should -probably regard as conventional—such, for instance, as shrugging the -shoulders—are shown by the same means to be natural.[66] - -But for our present purposes it is clearly a matter of no consequence -that we should be able to classify all signs as natural or -conventional. For it is certain that animals employ both; and hence -no distinction between the brute and the man can be raised on the -question of the kind of signs which they severally employ as natural -or conventional. This distinction, therefore, may in future be -disregarded, and natural and conventional signs, _if made intentionally -as signs_, I shall consider as identical. For the sake of method, -however, I shall treat the sign-making faculty as exhibited by man in -the order of its probable evolution; and this means that I shall begin -with the most natural, or least conventional, of the systems. This is -the language of tone and gesture. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -TONE AND GESTURE. - - -Tone and Gesture, considered as means of communication, may be -dealt with simultaneously. For while it cannot be said that either -historically or psychologically one is prior to the other, no more -can it be said that in the earliest phases of their development one -is more expressive than the other. All the more intelligent of the -lower animals employ both; and the hissings, spittings, growlings, -screamings, gruntings, cooings, &c., which in different species -accompany as many different kinds of gesture, are assuredly not less -expressive of the various kinds of feelings which are expressed. Again, -in our own species, tone is quite as general, and, within certain -limits, quite as expressive as gesture. Nay, even in fully developed -speech, rational meaning is largely dependent for its conveyance upon -slight differences of intonation. The five hundred words which go to -constitute the Chinese language are raised to three times that number -by the use of significant intonation; and even in the most highly -developed languages shades of meaning admit of being rendered in this -way which could not be rendered in any other. - -Nevertheless, the language of tone, like the language of gesture, -clearly lies nearer to, and is more immediately expressive of the -logic of recepts, than is the language of articulation. This is easily -proved by all the facts at our disposal. We know that an infant makes -considerable advance in the language of tone and gesture before it -begins to speak; and, according to Dr. Scott, who has had a large -experience in the instruction of idiotic children, “those to whom -there is no hope of teaching more than the merest rudiments of speech, -are yet capable of receiving a considerable amount of knowledge by -means of signs, and of expressing themselves by them.”[67] Lastly, -among savages, it is notorious that tone, gesticulation, and grimace -play a much larger part in conversation than they do among ourselves. -Indeed, we have some, though not undisputed, evidence to show that -in the case of many savages gesticulation is so far a necessary aid -to articulation, that the latter without the former is but very -imperfectly intelligible. For example, “those who, like the Arapahos, -possess a very scanty vocabulary, pronounced in a quasi-intelligible -way, can hardly converse with one another in the dark.”[68] And, as Mr. -Tylor says, “the array of evidence in favour of the existence of tribes -whose language is incomplete without the help of gesture-signs, even -for things of ordinary import, is very remarkable.”[C] A fact which, as -he very properly adds, “constitutes a telling argument in favour of the -theory that the gesture-language is the original utterance of mankind -[as it is ontogenetically in the individual man], out of which speech -has developed itself more or less fully among different tribes.”[69] - -In support of the same general conclusions I may here also quote the -following excellent remarks from Colonel Mallery’s laborious work on -Gesture-language:—[70] - -“The wishes and emotions of very young children are conveyed in a -small number of sounds, but in a great variety of gestures and facial -expressions. A child’s gestures are intelligent long in advance of -speech; although very early and persistent attempts are made to give -it instruction in the latter but none in the former, from the time -when it begins _risu cognoscere matrem_. It learns words only as they -are taught, and learns them through the medium of signs which are -not expressly taught. Long after familiarity with speech, it consults -the gestures and facial expressions of its parents and nurses, as -if seeking thus to translate or explain their words. These facts -are important in reference to the biologic law that the order of -development of the individual is the same as that of the species.... -The insane understand and obey gestures when they have no knowledge -whatever of words. It is also found that semi-idiotic children -who cannot be taught more than the merest rudiments of speech can -receive a considerable amount of information through signs, and can -express themselves by them. Sufferers from aphasia continue to use -appropriate gestures. A stammerer, too, works his arms and features as -if determined to get his thoughts out, in a manner not only suggestive -of the physical struggle, but of the use of gestures as a hereditary -expedient.” - -Words, then, in so far as they are not intentionally imitative of -other sounds, and so approximate to gestures, are essentially more -conventional than are tones immediately expressive of emotions, or -bodily actions which appeal to the eye, and which, in so far as -they are intentionally significant, are made, as far as possible, -intentionally pictorial. Therefore, either to make or to understand -these more conventional signs requires a higher order of mental -evolution; and on this account it is that we everywhere find the -language of tone and gesture preceding that of articulate speech, as -at once the more simple, more natural, and therefore more _primitive_ -means of conveying receptual ideas. - -We find the same general truth exemplified in the fact that the -language of tone and gesture is always resorted to by men who do not -understand each others’ articulate speech; and although among the -races in which gesture-language has been carried to its highest degree -of elaboration most of the signs employed have become more or less -conventional, in the main they are still pictorial. This is directly -proved, without the need of special analysis, by the fact that the -members of such races are able to communicate with one another in a -manner so singularly complete that to an onlooker the result seems -almost magical. - -Thus “the Indians who have been shown over the civilized East have -often succeeded in holding intercourse by means of their invention -and application of principles, in what may be called the voiceless -mother utterance, with white deaf-mutes, who surely have no semiotic -code more nearly connected with that attributed to the Indians than is -derived from their common humanity. They showed the greatest pleasure -in meeting deaf-mutes, precisely as travellers in a foreign country are -rejoiced to meet persons speaking their language.”[71] - -Again, Tylor says, “Gesture-language is substantially the same all the -world over,” and Mallery confirms this by the remark that “the writer’s -study not only sustains it, but shows a surprising number of signs for -the same idea which are substantially identical, not only among savage -tribes, but among all peoples that use gesture-signs with any freedom. -Men, in groping for a mode of communication with each other, and using -the same general methods, have been under many varying conditions and -circumstances which have determined differently many conceptions and -their semiotic execution, but there have also been many of both which -were similar.” - -Such being the case, it is a matter of interest to determine the syntax -of this language; for we may be sure that by so doing we are at work -upon the root-principles of the sign-making faculty where it arises -out of the logic of recepts, and not upon the developed ramifications -of this faculty where we find it wrought up into the more highly -conventional logic of concepts characteristic of speech. But before I -enter upon this branch of our subject, I shall say a few words to show -to what a high degree of perfection gesture-language admits of being -developed. - -Tylor observes:—“As a means of communication, there is no doubt that -the Indian pantomime is not merely capable of expressing a few simple -and ordinary notions, but that to the uncultured savage, with his -few and material ideas, it is a very fair substitute for his scanty -vocabulary.”[72] And Colonel Mallery, in the admirable treatise already -referred to, shows in detail to what a surprising extent this “Indian -pantomime” is thus available as a substitute for speech. The following -may be selected from among the numerous dialogues and discourses which -he gives, and which all present the same general character. It is -communicated by Mr. Ivan Pehoff, who took notes of the conversation at -the time. The two conversers were Indians of different tribes. - -“(1) _Kenaitze._—Left hand raised to height of eye, palm outward, -moved several times from right to left rapidly; fingers extended and -closed; pointing to strangers with left hand. Right hand describes a -curve from north to east.—‘Which of the north-eastern tribes is yours?’ - -“(2) _Tennanal._—Right hand, hollowed, lifted to mouth, then extended -and describing waving line gradually descending from right to left. -Left hand describing mountainous outline, apparently one peak rising -above the other. Said by Chalidoolts to mean, ‘Tenan-tnu-kohtana, -Mountain-river-men.’ - -“(3) _K._—Left hand raised to height of eye, palm outward, moved from -right to left, fingers extended. Left index describes curve from east -to west. Outline of mountain and river as in preceding sign.—‘How many -days from Mountain-river?’ - -“(4) _T._—Right hand raised towards index, and thumb forming first -crescent and then ring. This repeated three times.—‘Moon, new and full -three times.’ - -“(5) Right hand raised, palm to front, index raised and lowered at -regular intervals—‘Walked.’ Both hands imitating paddling of canoe, -alternately right and left.—‘Travelled three months on foot and by -canoe.’ - -“(6) Both arms crossed over breast, simulating shivering.—Cold, -winter.’ - -“(7) Right index pointing toward speaker.—‘I’; left hand pointing to -the west—‘travelled westward.’ - -“(8) Right hand lifted cup-shaped to mouth—‘Water.’ Right hand -describing waving line from right to left gradually descending, -pointing to the west.—‘River running westward.’ - -“(9) Right hand gradually pushed forward, palm upward, from height of -breast. Left hand shading eyes; looking at great distance.—‘Very wide.’ - -“(10) Left and right hands put together in shape of sloping -shelter.—‘Lodge, camp.’ - -“(11) Both hands lifted height of eye, palm inward, fingers -spread.—‘Many times.’ - -“(12) Both hands closed, palm outward, height of hips.—‘Surprised.’ - -“(13) Index pointing from eye forward.—‘See.’ - -“(14) Right hand held up, height of shoulder, three fingers extended, -left hand pointing to me.—‘Three white men.’ - -“(15) _K._—Right hand pointing to me, left hand held up, three fingers -extended.—‘Three white men.’ - -“(16) Making Russian sign of cross—‘Russians.’—‘Were the three white -men Russians?’ - -“(17) _T._—Left hand raised, palm inward, two fingers extended sign of -cross with right.—‘Two Russians.’ - -“(18) Right hand extended, height of eye, palm outward, moved outward a -little to right.—‘No.’ - -“(19) One finger of left hand raised.—‘One.’ - -“(20) Sign of cross with right.—‘Russian.’ - -“(21) Right hand, height of eye, fingers closed and extended, palm -outward a little to right.—‘Yes.’ - -“(22) Right hand carried across chest, hand extended, palm upward, -fingers and thumb closed as if holding something. Left hand in same -position carried across the right, palm downward.—‘Trade.’ - -“(23) Left hand upholding one finger, right pointing to me.—‘One white -man.’ - -“(24) Right hand held horizontally, palm downward, about four feet from -ground.—‘Small.’ - -“(25) Forming rings before eyes with index and thumb.—‘Eye-glasses.’ - -“(26) Right hand clinched, palm upward, in front of chest, thumb -pointing inward.—‘Gave one.’ - -“(27) Forming cup with right hand, simulating drinking.—‘Drink.’ - -“(28) Right hand grasping chest repeatedly, fingers curved and -spread.—‘Strong.’ - -“(29) Both hands pressed to temple, and head moved from side to -side.—‘Drunk, headache.’ - -“(30) Both index fingers placed together extended, pointing -forward.—‘Together.’ - -“(31) Fingers interlaced repeatedly.—‘Build.’ - -“(32) Left hand extended, fingers closed, placed slopingly against -left.—‘Camp.’ - -“(33) Both wrists placed against temples, hands curved upward and -outward, fingers spread.—‘Horns.’ - -“(34) Both hands horizontally lifted to height of shoulder, right -arm extended gradually full length, hand drooping a little at the -end.—‘Long back, moose.’ - -“(35) Both hands upright, palm outward, fingers extended and spread, -placing one before the other alternately.—‘Trees, dense forest.’ - -“(36) Sign of cross.—‘Russian.’ - -“(37) Motions of shooting again.—‘Shot.’ - -“(38) Sign for moose (Nos. 33, 34); showing two fingers of left -hand.—‘Two.’ - -“(39) Sign for camp as before (No. 10).—‘Camp.’ - -“(40) Right hand describing curve from east to west, twice.—‘Two days.’ - -“(41) Left hand lifted height of mouth, back outward, fingers closed as -if holding something; right hand simulating motion of tearing off, and -placing in mouth.—‘Eating moose meat.’ - -“(42) Right hand placed horizontally against heart; fingers closed, -moved forward a little and raised a little several times.—‘Glad at -heart.’ - -“(43) Fingers of left hand and index of right hand extended and -placed together horizontally, pointing forward height of chest. Hands -separated, right pointing eastward, and left westward.—‘Three men and -speaker parted, going west and east.’” - -And so on, the conversation continuing up to 116 paragraphs. No -doubt some of these gestures appear conventional, and such is -undoubtedly the case with a great many which Colonel Mallery gives -in his _Dictionary of Indian Signs_. But this only shows that no -system of signs can be developed in any high degree without becoming -more or less conventional. The point I desire to be noticed is, -that gesture-language continues as far as possible—or as long as -possible—to be the natural expression of the logic of recepts. -As Mallery elsewhere observes, “the result of the studies, so far -as presented is, that that which is called the sign-language of -Indians is not, properly speaking, one language; but that it, and the -gesture-systems of deaf-mutes, and of all peoples, constitute together -one language—the gesture-speech of mankind—of which each system is a -dialect.” As showing this, and at the same time to give other instances -of the perfection of gesture-language, I may quote one instance of the -employment of such language by other nations, and one of its employment -by deaf-mutes. The first which I select is recorded by Alexander Dumas. - -“Six weeks after this, I saw a second example of this faculty of mute -communication. This was at Naples. I was walking with a young man -of Syracuse. We passed by a sentinel. The soldier and my companion -exchanged two or three grimaces, which at another time I should not -even have noticed; but the instances I had before seen led me to give -attention. ‘Poor fellow!’ sighed my companion. ‘What did he say to -you?’ I asked. ‘Well,’ said he, ‘I thought that I recognized him as -a Sicilian, and I learned from him, as we passed, from what place he -came; he said he was from Syracuse, and that he knew me well. Then -I asked him how he liked the Neapolitan service; he said he did not -like it at all, and if his officers did not treat him better he should -certainly end by deserting. I then signified to him that if he ever -should be reduced to that extremity, he might rely upon me, and that I -would aid him all in my power. The poor fellow thanked me with all his -heart, and I have no doubt that one day or other I shall see him come.’ -Three days after I was at the quarters of my Syracusan friend, when he -was told that a man asked to see him who would not give his name; he -went out and left me nearly ten minutes. ‘Well,’ said he on returning, -‘just as I said.’ ‘What?’ said I. ‘That the poor fellow would desert.’” - -The instance which I select of gesture-language as employed by a -deaf-mute occurred in the National Deaf-Mute College at Washington, to -which Colonel Mallery took seven Uta Indians on March 6, 1880. - -“Another deaf-mute gestured to tell us that, when he was a boy, he went -to a melon-field, tapped several melons, finding them to be green or -unripe: finally, reaching a good one, he took his knife, cut a slice -and ate it. A man made his appearance on horseback, entered the patch -on foot, found the cut melon, and, detecting the thief, threw the melon -towards him, hitting him in the back, whereupon he ran away crying. The -man mounted and rode off in an opposite direction. - -“All of these signs were readily comprehended, although some of the -Indians varied very slightly in their translation. When the Indians -were asked whether, if they (the deaf-mutes) were to come to the Uta -country, they would be scalped, the answer was given, ‘Nothing would be -done to you; but we would be friends,’ as follows:— - -“The palm of the right hand was brushed toward the right over that of -the left (‘nothing’), and the right made to grasp the palm of the left, -thumbs extended over, and lying upon the back of the opposing hand -(‘friends’). - -“This was readily understood by the deaf-mutes. Deaf-mute sign of -milking a cow and drinking the milk was fully and quickly understood. - -“The narrative of a boy going to an apple tree, hunting for ripe fruit, -and filling his pockets, being surprised by the owner and hit upon the -head with a stone, was much appreciated by the Indians and completely -understood.” - -Innumerable other instances of the same kind might be given;[73] -but I have now said enough to establish the only points with which -I am here concerned—namely, that gesture-language admits of being -developed to a degree which renders it a fair substitute for spoken -language, where the ideas to be conveyed are not highly abstract; and -that it admits of being so developed without departing further from -a direct or natural expression of ideation (as distinguished from a -conventional or artificial) than allows it to be readily understood by -the sign-talkers, without any preconcerted agreement as to the meanings -to be attached to the particular signs employed. - -Such being the case, it is of importance next to note that, as all -the existing races of mankind are a word-speaking race, we are not -now able to eliminate this factor, and to say how far the sign-making -faculty, as exhibited in the gesture-language of man, is indebted -to the elaborating influence produced by the constant and parallel -employment of spoken language. We can scarcely, however, entertain any -doubt that the reflex influence of speech upon gesture must have been -considerable, if not immense. Even the case of the deaf-mutes proves -nothing to the contrary; for these unfortunate individuals, although -not able themselves to speak, nevertheless inherit in their human -brains the psychological structure which has been built up by means of -speech; their sign-making _faculty_ is as well developed as in other -men, though, from a physiological accident, they are deprived of the -ordinary means of displaying it. Therefore we have no evidence to show -to what level of excellence the sign-making faculty of man would have -attained, if the race had been destitute of the faculty of speech. I -shall have to return to this consideration in the next chapter, and -only mention it here to avoid an undue estimate being prematurely -formed of the importance of gesture as a means of thought-formation, or -distinct from that of thought-expression. - -I shall now proceed to analyze in some detail the syntax of -gesture-language. And here again I must depend for my facts upon the -two writers who have best studied this kind of language in a properly -scientific manner. - -Mr. Tylor says:—“The gesture-language has no grammar, properly so -called; it knows no inflections of any kind, any more than the Chinese. -The same sign stands for ‘walk,’ ‘walkest,’ ‘walking,’ ‘walked,’ -‘walker.’ Adjectives and verbs are not easily distinguished by the deaf -and dumb. ‘Horse, black, handsome, trot, canter,’ would be the rough -translation of the signs by which a deaf-mute would state that a black -handsome horse trots and canters. Indeed, our elaborate system of parts -of speech is but little applicable to the gesture-language, though, as -will be more fully said in another chapter, it may perhaps be possible -to trace in spoken language a Dualism, in some measure resembling that -of the Gesture-language, with its two constituent parts, the bringing -forward objects and actions in actual fact, and the mere suggestion -of them by imitation.... It has, however, a syntax which is worthy of -careful examination. The syntax of speaking man differs according to -the language he may learn, ‘equus niger,’ ‘a black horse;’ ‘hominem -amo,’ ‘j’aime l’homme.’ But the deaf-mute strings together the signs -of the various ideas he wishes to connect, in what appears to be the -natural order in which they follow one another in his mind, for it -is the same among the mutes in different countries, and is wholly -independent of the syntax which may happen to belong to the language -of their speaking friends. For instance, their usual construction is -not ‘Black horse,’ but ‘Horse black;’ not ‘Bring a black hat,’ but ‘Hat -black bring;’ not ‘I am hungry, give me bread,’ but ‘Hungry me, bread -give.’... - -“The fundamental principle which regulates the order of the deaf-mutes’ -signs, seems to be that enunciated by Schmalz: that which seems to -him the most important he always acts before the rest, and that which -seems to him superfluous he leaves out. For instance, to say, ‘My -father gave me an apple,’ he makes the sign for ‘apple,’ then that for -‘father,’ and then that for ‘I,’ without adding that for ‘give.’ The -following remarks, sent to me by Dr. Scott, seem to agree with this -view: With regard to the two sentences you give (I struck Tom with a -stick—Tom struck me with a stick), the sequence in the introduction -of the particular parts would in some measure depend on the part that -most attention was wished to be drawn towards. If a mere telling of -the fact was required, my opinion is that it would be arranged so, -‘I-Tom-struck-a-stick,’ and the passive form in a similar manner with -the change of ‘Tom’ first. - -“Both these sentences are not generally said by the deaf-and-dumb -without their having been interested in the fact, and then, in coming -to tell of them, they first give that part they are most anxious to -impress on their hearer. Thus, if a boy had struck another boy, and the -injured party came to tell us, if he was desirous to acquaint us with -the idea that a particular boy did it, he would point to the boy first. -But if he was anxious to draw attention to his own suffering, rather -than to the person by whom it was caused, he would point to himself -and make the act of striking, and then point to the boy; or if he was -wishful to draw attention to the cause of his suffering, he might sign -the striking first, and then tell us afterwards by whom it was done. - -“Dr. Scott is, so far as I know, the only person who has attempted -to lay down a set of distinct rules for the syntax of the -gesture-language. ‘The subject comes before the attribute, the object -before the action.’ A third construction is common, though not -necessary, ‘the modifier after the modified.’ The first construction, -by which the ‘horse’ is put before the ‘black,’ enables the deaf-mute -to make his syntax supply, to some extent, the distinction between -adjectives and substantives, which his imitative signs do not -themselves express. - -“The other two are well exemplified by a remark of the Abbé Sicard’s: -A pupil to whom I one day put this question, ‘Who made God?’ and who -replied, ‘God made nothing,’ left me in no doubt as to this kind of -inversion, usual to the deaf-and-dumb, when I went on to ask him, -‘Who made the shoe?’ and he answered, ‘The shoe made the shoemaker.’ -So when Laura Bridgman, who was blind as well as deaf-and-dumb, had -learnt to communicate ideas by spelling words on her fingers, she would -say, ‘Shut door,’ ‘Give book;’ no doubt because she had learnt these -sentences whole, but when she made sentences for herself, she would go -back to the natural deaf-and-dumb syntax, and spell out ‘Laura bread -give,’ to ask for bread to be given her, and ‘Water drink Laura,’ to -express that she wanted to drink water.... - -“A look of inquiry converts an assertion into a question, and fully -seems to make the difference between ‘The master is come,’ and ‘Is -the master come?’ The interrogative pronouns ‘Who?’ ‘What?’ are made -by looking or pointing about in an inquiring manner; in fact, by a -number of unsuccessful attempts to say, ‘he,’ ‘that.’ The deaf-and-dumb -child’s way of asking, ‘Who has beaten you?’ would be, ‘You beaten; -who was it?’ Though it is possible to render a great mass of simple -statements and questions, almost gesture for word, the concretism of -thought which belongs to the deaf-mute, whose mind has not been much -developed by the use of written language, and even to the educated one -when he is thinking and uttering his thoughts in his native signs, -commonly requires more complex phrases to be recast. A question so -common amongst us as, ‘What is the matter with you?’ would be put, ‘You -crying? You have been beaten?’ and so on. The deaf-and-dumb child does -not ask, ‘What did you have for dinner yesterday?’ but ‘Did you have -soup?’ ‘Did you have porridge?’ and so forth. A conjunctive sentence -he expresses by an alternative or contrast; ‘I should be punished if -I were lazy and naughty,’ would be put, ‘I lazy, naughty, no!—lazy, -naughty, I punished, yes!’ Obligation may be expressed in a similar -way; ‘I must love and honour my teacher,’ may be put, ‘Teacher, I beat, -deceive, scold, no!—I love, honour, yes!’ As Steinthal says in his -admirable essay, it is only the certainty which speech gives to a man’s -mind in holding fast ideas in all their relations, which brings him to -the shorter course of expressing only the positive side of the idea, -and dropping the negative.... - -“To ‘make’ is too abstract an idea for the deaf-mute; to show that -the tailor makes the coat, or that the carpenter makes the table, he -would represent the tailor sewing the coat, and the carpenter sawing -and planing the table. Such a proposition as ‘Rain makes the land -fruitful,’ would not come into his way of thinking: ‘rain fall, plants -grow,’ would be his pictorial expression.... The order of the signs by -which the Lord’s Prayer is rendered is much as follows:—‘Father our, -heaven in—name Thy hallowed—kingdom Thy come—will Thy done—earth -on, heaven in, as. Bread give us daily—trespasses our forgive us, them -trespass against us, forgive as. Temptation lead not—but evil deliver -from—Kingdom power glory thine for ever.’”[74] - -I shall now add some quotations from Colonel Mallery on the same -subject. - -“The reader will understand without explanation that there is in -sign-language no organized sentence such as is in the language of -civilization, and that he must not look for articles or particles, -or passive voice or case or grammatic gender, or even what appears -in those languages as a substantive or a verb, as a subject or a -predicate, or as qualifiers or inflexions. The sign radicals, without -being specifically any of our parts of speech, may be all of them -in turn. Sign-language cannot show by inflection the reciprocal -dependence of words and sentences. Degrees of motion corresponding -with vocal intonations are only used rhetorically, or for degrees of -comparison. The relations of ideas and objects are therefore expressed -by placement, and their connection is established when necessary by -the abstraction of ideas. The sign-talker is an artist, grouping -persons and things so as to show the relations, and the effect is that -which is seen in a picture. But though the artist has the advantage -in presenting in a permanent connected scene the result of several -transient signs, he can only present it as it appears at a single -moment. The sign-talker has the succession of time at his disposal, -and his scenes move and act, are localized and animated, and their -arrangement is therefore more varied and significant.”[75] - -The following is the order in which the parable of the Prodigal Son -would be translated by a cultivated sign-talker, with Colonel Mallery’s -remarks thereon:— - -“‘Once, man one, sons two. Son younger say, Father property your -divide: part my, me give. Father so.—Son each, part his give. Days -few after, son younger money all take, country far go, money spend, -wine drink, food nice eat. Money by and by gone all. Country everywhere -food little: son hungry very. Go seek man any, me hire. Gentleman -meet. Gentleman son send field swine feed. Son swine husks eat, -see—self husks eat want—cannot—husks him give nobody. Son thinks, -say, father my, servants many, bread enough, part give away can—I -none—starve, die. I decide: Father I go to, say I bad, God disobey, -you disobey—name my hereafter _son_, no—I unworthy. You me work give -servant like. So son begin go. Father far look: son see, pity, run, -meet, embrace. Son father say, I bad, you disobey, God disobey—name my -hereafter _son_, no—I unworthy. But father servants call, command robe -best bring, son put on, ring finger put on, shoes feet put on, calf fat -bring, kill. We all eat, merry. Why? Son this my formerly dead, now -alive: formerly lost, now found: rejoice.’ - -“It may be remarked, not only from this example, but from general -study, that the verb ‘to be’ as a copula or predicant does not have -any place in sign-language. It is shown, however, among deaf-mutes -as an assertion of presence or existence by a sign of stretching -the arms and hands forward and then adding the sign of affirmation. -_Time_ as referred to in the conjunctions _when_ and _then_ is not -gestured. Instead of the form, ‘When I have had a sleep I will go to -the river,’ or ‘After sleeping I will go to the river,’ both deaf-mutes -and Indians would express the intention by ‘Sleep done, I river go.’ -Though time present, past, and future is readily expressed in signs, -it is done once for all in the connection to which it belongs, and -once established is not repeated by any subsequent intimation, as -is commonly the case in oral speech. Inversion, by which the object -is placed before the action, is a striking feature of the language -of deaf-mutes, and it appears to follow the natural method by which -objects and actions enter into the mental conception. In striking -a rock the natural conception is not first of the abstract idea of -striking or of sending a stroke into vacancy, seeing nothing and having -no intention of striking anything in particular, when suddenly a rock -rises up to the mental vision and receives the blow; the order is that -the man sees the rock, has the intention to strike it, and does so; -therefore he gestures, ‘I rock strike.’ For further illustration of -this subject, a deaf-mute boy, giving in signs the compound action -of a man shooting a bird from a tree, first represented the tree, -then the bird as alighting upon it, then a hunter coming toward and -looking at it, taking aim with a gun, then the report of the latter -and the falling and the dying gasps of the bird. These are undoubtedly -the successive steps that an artist would have taken in drawing the -picture, or rather successive pictures, to illustrate the story.... -Degrees of comparison are frequently expressed, both by deaf-mutes and -by Indians, by adding to the generic or descriptive sign that for ‘big’ -or ‘little.’ _Damp_ would be ‘wet—little’; _cool_, ‘cold—little’; -_hot_, ‘warm—much.’ The amount or force of motion also often indicates -corresponding diminution or augmentation, but sometimes expresses -a different shade of meaning, as is reported by Dr. Matthews with -reference to the sign for _bad_ and _contempt_. This change in degree -of motion is, however, often used for emphasis only, as is the raising -of the voice in speech or italicizing and capitalizing in print. The -Prince of Wied gives an instance of a comparison in his sign for -_excessively hard_, first giving that for _hard_, viz.: Open the left -hand, and strike against it several times with the right (with the -backs of the fingers). Afterwards he gives _hard, excessively_, as -follows: Sign for _hard_, then place the left index finger upon the -right shoulder, at the same time extend and raise the right arm high, -extending the index finger upward, perpendicularly.” - -I have entered thus at some length into the syntax of gesture-language -because this language is, as I have before remarked, the most natural -or immediate mode of giving expression to the logic of recepts; it is -the least symbolic or conventional phase of the sign-making faculty, -and therefore a study of its method is of importance in such a general -survey of this faculty as we are endeavouring to take. The points -in the above analysis to which I would draw attention as the most -important are, the absence of the copula and of many other “parts of -speech,” the order in which ideas are expressed, the pictorial devices -by which the ideas are presented in as concrete a form as possible, and -the fact that no ideas of any high abstraction are ever expressed at -all.[76] - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -ARTICULATION. - - -It will be my aim in this chapter to take a broad view of Articulation -as a special development of the general faculty of sign-making, -reserving for subsequent chapters a consideration of the philosophy of -Speech. - -On the threshold of articulate language, then, we have four several -cases to distinguish: first, articulation by way of meaningless -imitation; second, meaningless articulation by way of a spontaneous -or instinctive exercise of the organs of speech; third, understanding -of the signification of articulate sounds, or words; and fourth, -articulation with an intentional attribution of the meaning understood -as attaching to the words. I shall consider each of these cases -separately. - - * * * * * - -The meaningless imitation of articulate sounds occurs in talking birds, -young children, not unfrequently in savages, in idiots, and in the -mentally deranged. The faculty of such meaningless imitation, however, -need not detain us; for it is evident that the mere re-echoing of a -verbal sound is of no further psychological significance than is the -mimicking of any other sound. - - * * * * * - -Meaningless articulation of a spontaneous or instinctive kind occurs -in young children, in uneducated deaf-mutes, and also in idiots.[77] -Infants usually (though not invariably) begin with such syllables as -“alla,” “tata,” “mama,” and “papa” (with or without the reduplication) -before they understand the meaning of any word. One of my own children -could say all these syllables very distinctly at the age of eight -months and a half; and I could detect no evidence at that time of his -understanding words, or of his having learnt these syllabic utterances -by imitation. Another child of mine, which was very long in beginning -to speak, at fourteen and a half months old said once, and only once, -but very distinctly “Ego.” This was certainly not said in imitation -of any one having uttered the word in her presence, and therefore I -mention the incident to show that meaningless articulation in young -children is spontaneous or instinctive, as well as intentionally -imitative; for at that age the only other syllables which this child -had uttered were those having the long _[=a]_, as above mentioned. Were -it necessary, I could give many other instances of this fact; but, as -it is generally recognized by writers on infant psychology, I need not -wait to do so. - - * * * * * - -We now come to the third of our divisions, or the understanding of -articulate sounds. And this is an important matter for us, because -it is evident that the faculty of appreciating the meaning of words -betokens a considerable advance in the general faculty of language. As -we have before seen, tone and gesture, being the natural expression of -the logic of recepts—and so even in their most elaborated forms being -intentionally pictorial,—are as little as possible conventional; -but words, being coined expressly for the subservience of concepts, -are always less graphic, and usually arbitrary. Therefore, although -it would of course be wrong to say that a higher faculty is required -to learn the arbitrary association between a particular verbal sound -and a particular act or phenomenon, than is required to depict an -abstract idea in gesture; this only shows that where higher faculties -are present, they are able to display themselves in gesture as well -as in speech. The consideration which I now wish to present is that -understanding a word implies (other things equal, or supposing -the gesture not to be so purely conventional as a word) a higher -development of the sign-making faculty than does the understanding of a -tone or gesture—so that, for instance, if an animal were to understand -the word “Whip,” it would show itself more intelligent in appreciating -signs than it would by understanding the gesture of threatening as with -a whip. - -Now, the higher animals unquestionably do understand the meanings of -words; idiots too low in the scale themselves to speak are in the same -position; and infants learn the signification of many articulate sounds -long before they begin themselves to utter them.[78] In all these cases -it is of course important to distinguish between the understanding of -words and the understanding of tones; for, as already observed, both -in the animal kingdom and in the growing child it is evident that -the former represents a much higher grade of mental evolution than -does the latter—a fact so obvious to common observation that I need -not wait to give illustrations. But although the fact is obvious, -it is no easy matter to distinguish in particular cases whether the -understanding is due to an appreciation of words, to that of tones, -or to both combined. We may be sure, however, that words are never -understood unless tones are likewise so, and that understanding of -words may be assisted by understanding of the tones in which they are -uttered. Therefore, the only method of ascertaining where words as -such are first understood, is to find where they are first understood -irrespective of the tones in which they are uttered. This criterion—so -far, at least, as my evidence goes—excludes all cases of animals -obeying commands, answering to their names, &c., with the exception -of the higher mammalia. That is to say, while the understanding of -certain tones of the human voice extends at least through the entire -vertebrated series,[79] and occurs in infants only a few weeks old; the -understanding of words without the assistance of tones appears to occur -only in a few of the higher mammalia, and first dawns in the growing -child during the second year.[80] - -The fact that the more intelligent Mammalia are able to understand -words irrespective of tones is, as I have said, important; and -therefore I shall devote a few sentences to prove it. - -My friend Professor Gerald Yeo had a terrier, which was taught to -keep a morsel of food on its snout till it received the verbal signal -“Paid for;” and it was of no consequence in what tones these words -were uttered. For even if they were introduced in an ordinary stream -of conversation, the dog distinguished them, and immediately tossed -the food into his mouth. Seeing this, I thought it worth while to -try whether the animal would be able to distinguish the words “Paid -for” from others presenting a close similarity of sound; and, -therefore, while he was expecting the signal, I said “Pinafore;” the -dog gave a start, and very nearly threw the food off his nose; but -immediately arrested the movement, evidently perceiving his mistake. -This experiment was repeated many times with these two closely similar -verbal sounds, and always with the same result: the dog clearly -distinguished between them. I have more recently repeated this -experiment on another terrier, which had been taught the same trick, -and obtained exactly the same results. - -The well-known anecdote told of the poet Hogg may be fitly alluded to -in this connection. A Scotch collie was able to understand many things -that his master said to him, and, as proof of his ability, his master, -while in the shepherd’s cottage, said in as calm and natural tone as -possible, “I’m thinking the cow’s in the potatoes.” Immediately the -dog, which had been lying half asleep on the floor, jumped up, ran into -the potato-field, round the house, and up the roof to take a survey; -but finding no cow in the potatoes, returned and lay down again. Some -little time afterwards his master said as quietly as before, “I’m sure -the cow’s in the potatoes,” when the same scene was repeated. But on -trying it a third time, the dog only wagged his tail. Similarly, Sir -Walter Scott, among other anecdotes of his bull terrier, says:—“The -servant at Ashestiel, when laying the cloth for dinner, would say to -the dog as he lay on the mat by the fire, ‘Camp, my good fellow, the -sheriff’s coming home by the ford,’ or ‘by the hill;’ and the poor -animal would immediately go forth to welcome his master, advancing as -far and as fast as he was able in the direction indicated by the words -addressed to him.” And numberless other anecdotes of the same kind -might be quoted.[81] - -But the most remarkable display of the faculty in question on the -part of a brute which has happened to fall under my own observation, -is that which many other English naturalists must have noticed in the -case of the chimpanzee now in the Zoological Gardens. This ape has -learnt from her keeper the meanings of so many words and phrases, -that in this respect she resembles a child shortly before it begins -to speak. Moreover, it is not only particular words and particular -phrases which she has thus learnt to understand; she also understands, -to a large extent, the combination of these words and phrases in -sentences, so that the keeper is able to explain to the animal what -it is that he requests her to do. For example, she will push a straw -through any particular meshes in the network of her cage which he may -choose successively to indicate by such phrases as—“The one nearest -your foot; now the one next the key-hole; now the one above the bar,” -&c., &c. Of course there is no pointing to the places thus verbally -designated, nor is any order observed in the designation. The animal -understands what is meant by the words alone, and this even when a -particular mesh is named by the keeper remarking to her the accident of -its having a piece of straw already hanging through it. - -In connection with the subject of the present treatise it appears to -me difficult to overrate the significance of these facts. The more -that my opponents maintain the fundamental nature of the connection -between speech and thought, the greater becomes the importance of -the consideration that the higher animals are able in so surprising -a degree to participate with ourselves in the understanding of -words. From the analogy of the growing child we well know that the -understanding of words precedes the utterance of them, and therefore -that the condition to the attainment of conceptual ideation is given -in this higher product of receptual ideation. Surely, then, the -fact that not a few among the lower animals (especially elephants, -dogs, and monkeys) demonstrably share with the human infant this -higher excellence of receptual capacity, is a fact of the largest -significance. For it proves at least that these animals share with an -infant those qualities of mind, which in the latter are immediately -destined to serve as the vehicle for elevating ideation from the -receptual to the conceptual sphere: the faculty of understanding -words in so considerable a degree brings us to the very borders of -the faculty of using words with an intelligent appreciation of their -meaning. - -Familiarity with the facts now before us is apt to blunt this their -extraordinary significance; and therefore I invite my opponents to -reflect how differently my case would have stood, supposing that none -of the lower animals had happened to have been sufficiently intelligent -thus to understand the meanings of words. How much greater would -then have been the argumentative advantage of any one who undertook -to prove the distinctively human prerogative of the Logos. No mere -brute, it might have been urged, has ever displayed so much as the -first step in approaching to this faculty: from its commencement to -its termination the faculty belongs exclusively to mankind. But, as -matters actually stand, this cannot be urged: the lower animals share -with us the order of ideation which is concerned in the understanding -of words—and words, moreover, so definite and particular in meaning -as is involved in explaining the particular mesh in a large piece -of wire-netting through which it is required that a straw shall be -protruded. While watching this most remarkable performance on the -part of the chimpanzee, I felt more than ever disposed to agree with -the great philologist Geiger, where he says “there is scarcely a more -wonderful relationship upon the earth than this accession [_i.e._ the -understanding of words] by the intelligence of animals to that of -man.”[82] - -I take it then, as certainly proved, that the germ of the sign-making -faculty which is present in the higher animals is so far developed as -to enable these animals to understand not merely conventional gestures, -but even articulate sounds, irrespective of the tones in which they -are uttered. Therefore, in view of this fact, together with the fact -previously established that these same animals frequently make use of -conventional gesture-signs themselves, I think we are justified in -concluding _a priori_, that if these animals were able to articulate, -they would employ simple words to express simple ideas. I do not say, -nor do I think, that they would form propositions; but it seems to me -little less than certain that they would use articulate sounds, as -they now use natural or conventional tones and gestures, to express -such ideas as they now express in either of these ways. For instance, -it would involve the exercise of no higher psychical faculty to say -the word “Come,” than it does to pull at a dress or a coat to convey -the same idea; or to utter the word “Open,” instead of mewing in a -conventional manner before a closed door; or, yet again, to utter the -word “Bone,” than to select and carry a card with the word written -upon it. If this is so, we must conclude that the only reason why the -higher Mammalia do not employ simple words to convey simple ideas, is -that which we may term an accidental reason, so far as their psychology -is concerned; it is an anatomical reason, depending merely on the -structure of their vocal organs not admitting of articulation.[83] - -Of course at this point my attention will be called to the case of -talking birds; for it is evident that in them we have the anatomical -conditions required for speech, though assuredly occurring at a -most unlikely place in the animal series; and therefore these -animals may be properly adduced to test the validity of my _a -priori_ inference—namely, that if the more intelligent brutes could -articulate, they would make a proper use of simple verbal signs. -Let it, however, be here remembered that birds are lower in the -psychological scale than dogs, or cats, or monkeys; and, therefore, -that the inference which I drew touching the latter need not -necessarily be held as applying also to the former. Nevertheless, it -so happens that even in the case of these psychologically inferior -animals the evidence, such as it is, is not opposed to my inference: on -the contrary, there is no small body of facts which goes to support it -in a very satisfactory manner. A consideration of this evidence will -now serve to introduce us to the fourth and last case presented in the -programme at the beginning of this chapter, or the case of articulation -with attribution of the meaning understood as attaching to the words. - - * * * * * - -Taking, first, the case of proper names, it is unquestionable that -many parrots know perfectly well that certain names belong to certain -persons, and that the way to call these persons is to call their -appropriate names. I knew a parrot which used thus to call its mistress -as intelligently as any other member of the household; and if she went -from home for a day, the bird became a positive nuisance from its -incessant calling for her to come. - -And in a similar manner talking birds often learn correctly to assign -the names of other pet animals kept in the same house, or even the -names of inanimate objects. There can thus be no question as to the use -by talking birds of proper names and noun-substantives. - -With respect to adjectives, Houzeau very properly remarks that the -apposite manner in which some parrots habitually use certain words -shows an aptitude correctly to perceive and to name qualities as well -as objects. Nor is this anything more than we might expect, seeing, on -the one hand, as already shown, that animals possess generic ideas of -many qualities, and, on the other, that an obvious quality is as much -a matter of immediate observation—and so of sensuous association—as -is the object of which it may happen to be a quality. - -Again, it is no less certain that many parrots will understand the -meaning of active and passive verbs, whether as uttered by others -or by themselves. The request to “Scratch Poll” or the announcement -“Poll is thirsty,” when intentionally used as signs, show as true an -appreciation of the meaning of verbs—or rather, let us say, of verbal -signs indicative of actions and states—as is shown by the gesture-sign -of a dog or a cat in pulling one’s dress to indicate “come,” or mewing -before an open door to signify “open.” - -But not only may talking birds attach appropriate significations -to nouns, adjectives, and verbs; they may even use short sentences -in a way serving to show that they appreciate—not, indeed, their -grammatical structure—but their applicability as a whole to particular -circumstances.[84] But this again is not a matter to excite surprise. -For all such instances of the apposite use of words or phrases by -talking birds are found on inquiry to be due, as antecedently we should -expect that they must, to the principle of association. The bird hears -a proper name applied to a person, and so, on learning to say the name, -henceforth associates it with that person. And similarly with phrases. -These with talking birds are mere vocal gestures, which in themselves -present but little more psychological significance than muscular -gestures. The verbal petition, “Scratch poor poll,” does not in itself -display any further psychological development than the significant -gesture already alluded to of depressing the head against the bars -of the cage; and similarly with all cases of the appropriate use of -longer phrases. Thus, supposing it to be due to association alone, a -verbal sign of any kind is not much more remarkable, or indicative of -intelligence, than is a gesture sign, or a vocal sign of any other -kind. The only respect in which it differs from such other signs is in -the fact that it is wholly arbitrary or conventional; and although, -as I have previously said, I do consider this an important point of -difference, I am not at all surprised that even the intelligence of a -bird admits of such special associations being formed, or that a wholly -arbitrary sign of any kind should here be acquired by this means, and -afterwards used as a sign. - -And that the verbal signs used by talking birds are due to association, -and association only, all the evidence I have met with goes to prove. -As showing how association acts in this case, I may quote the following -remarks of Dr. Samuel Wilks, F.R.S., on his own parrot, which he -carefully observed. He says that when alone this bird used to “utter a -long catalogue of its sayings, more especially if it heard talking at a -distance, as if wishing to join in the conversation, but at other times -a particular word or phrase is only spoken when suggested by a person -or object. Thus, certain friends who have addressed the bird frequently -by some peculiar expression, or the whistling of an air, will always -be welcomed by the same words or tune, and as regards myself, when I -enter the house—for my footstep is recognized—the bird will repeat -one of my sayings. If the servants enter the room Poll will be ready -with one of their expressions, and in their own tone of voice. It is -clear that there is a close association in the bird’s mind between -certain phrases and certain persons or objects, for their presence or -voice at once suggests some special word. For instance, my coachman, -when coming for orders, has so often been told half-past two, that no -sooner does he come to the door than Poll exclaims, ‘Half-past two.’ -Again, having at night found her awake, and having said, ‘Go to sleep,’ -if I have approached the cage after dark the same words have been -repeated. Then, as regards objects, if certain words have been spoken -in connection with them, these are ever afterwards associated together. -For example, at dinner time the parrot, having been accustomed to have -savory morsels given to her, I taught her to say, ‘Give me a bit.’ This -she now constantly repeats, but only and appropriately at dinner-time. -The bird associates the expression with something to eat, but, of -course, knows no more than the infant the derivation of the words she -is using. Again, being very fond of cheese, she easily picked up the -word, and always asks for cheese towards the end of the dinner course, -and at no other time. Whether the bird attaches the word to the true -substance or not I cannot say, but the time of asking for it is always -correct. She is also fond of nuts, and when these are on the table -she utters a peculiar squeak; this she has not been taught, but it is -Poll’s own name for nuts, for the sound is never heard until the fruit -is in sight. Some noises which she utters have been obtained from the -objects themselves, as that of a cork-screw at the sight of a bottle of -wine, or the noise of water poured into a tumbler on seeing a bottle of -water. The passage of the servant down the hall to open the front door -suggests a noise of moving hinges, followed by a loud whistle for a -cab.”[85] - -Concerning the accuracy of these observations I have no doubt, and I -could corroborate most of them were it necessary. It appears, then, -first, that talking birds may learn to associate certain words with -certain objects and qualities, certain other words or phrases with the -satisfaction of particular desires and the observation of particular -actions; words so used we may term vocal-gestures. Second, that they -may invent sounds of their own contriving, to be used in the same -way; and that these sounds may be either imitative of the objects -designated, as the sound of running fluid for “Water,” or arbitrary, as -the “particular squeak” that designated “Nuts.” Third, but that in a -much greater number of cases the sounds (verbal or otherwise) uttered -by talking birds are imitative only, without the animals attaching to -them any particular meaning. The third division, therefore, we may -neglect as presenting no psychological import; but the first and second -divisions require closer consideration. - -In designating as “vocal gestures”[86] the correct use (acquired by -direct association) of proper names, noun-substantives, adjectives, -verbs, and short phrases, I do not mean to disparage the faculty which -is displayed. On the contrary, I think this faculty is precisely -the same as that whereby children first learn to talk; for, like -the parrot, the infant learns by direct association the meanings of -certain words (or sounds) as denotative of certain objects, connotative -of certain qualities, expressive of certain desires, actions, and -so on. The only difference is that, in a few months after its first -commencement in the child, this faculty develops into proportions far -surpassing those which it presents in the bird, so that the vocabulary -becomes much larger and more discriminative. But the important thing -to attend to is that at first, and for several months after its -commencement, the vocabulary of a child is always designative of -particular objects, qualities, actions, or desires, and is acquired -by direct association. The distinctive peculiarity of human speech, -which elevates it above the region of animal gesticulation, is of -later growth—the peculiarity, I mean, of using words, no longer as -stereotyped in the framework of special and direct association, but as -movable types to be arranged in any order that the meaning before the -mind may dictate. When this stage is reached, we have the faculty of -predication, or of the grammatical formation of sentences which are -no longer of the nature of vocal gestures, designative of particular -objects, qualities, actions, or states of mind: but vehicles for the -conveyance of ever-changing thoughts. - -We shall presently see that this distinction between the naming and -the predicating phases of language is of the highest importance in -relation to the subject of the present treatise; but meanwhile all we -have to note is that the naming phase of spoken language occurs—in -a rudimentary form, indeed, but still unquestionably—in the animal -kingdom; and that the fact of its doing so is not surprising, if -we remember that in this stage language is nothing more than vocal -gesticulation. Psychologically considered, there is nothing more -remarkable in the fact that a bird which is able to utter an articulate -sound should learn by association to use that sound as a conventional -sign, than there is that it should learn by association similarly to -use a muscular action, as it does in the act of depressing its head -as a sign to have it scratched. Therefore we may now, I think, take -the position as established _a posteriori_ as well as _a priori_, that -it is, so to speak, a mere accident of anatomy that all the higher -animals are not able thus far to talk; and that, if dogs or monkeys -were able to do so, we have no reason to doubt that their use of words -and phrases would be even more extensive and striking than that which -occurs in birds. Or as Professor Huxley observes, “a race of dumb -men, deprived of all communication with those who could speak, would -be little indeed removed from the brutes. The moral and intellectual -differences between them and ourselves would be practically infinite, -though the naturalist should not be able to find a single shadow even -of specific structural difference.[87] - -We must next briefly consider the remaining feature in the psychology -of talking birds to which Dr. Wilks has drawn attention, namely, that -of inventing sounds of their own contrivance to be used as designative -of objects and qualities, or expressive of desires—sounds which may -be either imitative of the things designated, or wholly arbitrary. -And this, I think, is a most important feature; for it serves still -more closely to connect the faculty of vocal sign-making in animals -with the faculty of speech in man. Thus, turning first to the case of -a child beginning to speak, as Dr. Wilks points out—and nearly all -writers on the philosophy of language have noticed—“baby talk” is to -a large extent onomatopoetic. And although this is in part due to an -inheritance of “nursery language,” the very fact that nursery language -has come to contain so large an element of onomatopœia is additional -proof, were any required, that this kind of word-invention appeals with -ready ease to the infant understanding. But, on the other hand, no one -can have attended to the early vocabulary of any child without having -observed a fertile tendency to the invention of words wholly arbitrary. -As this spontaneous invention of arbitrary words by young children -will be found of importance in later stages of my exposition, I will -conclude the present chapter by presenting evidence to show the extent -to which, under favourable circumstances, it may proceed. Meanwhile, -however, I desire to point out that all such cases of the invention of -arbitrary vocal signs by young children differ from the analogous cases -furnished by parrots only in that the former are usually articulate, -while the latter are usually not so. But this difference is easily -explained when we remember that hereditary tendency makes as strongly -in the direction of inarticulate sounds in the case of the bird, as in -the case of the infant it makes in the direction of articulate. - -There still remains one feature in the psychology of talking birds to -which I must now draw prominent attention. So far as I can ascertain it -has not been mentioned by any previous writer, although I should think -it is one that can scarcely have escaped the notice of any attentive -observer of these animals. I allude to the aptitude which intelligent -parrots display of extending their articulate signs from one object, -quality, or action, to another which happens to be strikingly similar -in kind. For example, one of the parrots which I kept under observation -in my own house learnt to imitate the barking of a terrier, which -also lived in the house. After a time this barking was used by the -parrot as a denotative sound, or proper name, for the terrier—_i.e._ -whenever the bird saw the dog it used to bark, whether or not the dog -did so. Next, the parrot ceased to apply this denotative name to that -particular dog, but invariably did so to any other, or unfamiliar, dog -which visited the house. Now, the fact that the parrot ceased to bark -when it saw my terrier after it had begun to bark when it saw other -dogs, clearly showed that it distinguished between individual dogs, -while receptually perceiving their class resemblance. In other words, -the parrot’s name for an individual dog became extended into a generic -name for all dogs. Observations of this kind might no doubt have been -largely multiplied, if observers had thought it worth while to record -such apparently trivial facts. - - * * * * * - -In this general survey of articulate language, then, we have reached -these conclusions, all of which I take to be established by the -evidence of direct and adequate observation. - -There are four divisions of the faculty of articulate sign-making -to be distinguished:—namely, meaningless imitation, instinctive -articulation, understanding words irrespective of tones, and -intentional use of words as signs. Cases falling under the first -division do not require consideration. Cases belonging to the second, -being due to hereditary influence, occur only in infants, uneducated -deaf-mutes and idiots. Understanding of words is shown by animals -and idiots as well as by infants, and implies, _per se_, a higher -development of the sign-making faculty than does the understanding of -tones, or gestures—unless, of course, the latter happen to be of as -purely conventional a character as words. And, lastly, concerning the -intentional use of words as signs, we have noticed the following facts. - -Talking birds—which happen to be the only animals whose vocal organs -admit of uttering articulate sounds—show themselves capable of -correctly using proper names, noun-substantives, adjectives, verbs, -and appropriate phrases, although they do so by association alone, or -without appreciation of grammatical structure. Words are to them vocal -gestures, as immediately expressive of the logic of recepts as any -other signs would be. Nevertheless, it is important to observe that -this faculty of vocal gesticulation is the first phase of articulate -speech in a growing child, is the last to disappear in the descending -scale of idiocy, and is exhibited by talking birds in so considerable -a degree that the animals even invent names (whether by making -distinctive sounds, as a particular squeak for “nuts,” or by applying -words to designate objects, as “half-past-two” for the name of the -coachman)—such invention often clearly having an onomatopoetic origin, -though likewise often wholly arbitrary. - - * * * * * - -I will now conclude this chapter by detailing evidence to show the -extent to which, under favourable circumstances, young children will -thus likewise invent arbitrary signs, which, however, for reasons -already mentioned, are here almost invariably of an articulate kind. -It would be easy to draw this evidence from sundry writers on the -psychogenesis of children; but it will be sufficient to give a few -quotations from an able writer who has already taken the trouble to -collect the more remarkable instances which have been recorded of the -fact in question. The writer to whom I allude is Mr. Horatio Hale, and -the paper from which I quote is published in the _Proceedings of the -American Association for the Advancement of Science_, vol. xxxv., 1886. - -“In the year 1860 two children, twin boys, were born in a respectable -family residing in a suburb of Boston. They were in part of German -descent, their mother’s father having come from Germany to America at -the age of seventeen; but the German language, we are told, was never -spoken in the household. The children were so closely alike that their -grandmother, who often came to see them, could only distinguish them by -some coloured string or ribbon tied around the arm. As often happens in -such cases, an intense affection existed between them, and they were -constantly together. The remainder of their interesting story will be -best told in the words of the writer, to whose enlightened zeal for -science we are indebted for our knowledge of the facts. - -“At the usual age these twins began to talk, but, strange to say, not -their ‘mother-tongue.’ They had a language of their own, and no pains -could induce them to speak anything else. It was in vain that a little -sister, five years older than they, tried to make them speak their -native language—as it would have been. They persistently refused to -utter a syllable of English. Not even the usual first words, ‘papa,’ -‘mamma,’ ‘father,’ ‘mother,’ it is said, did they ever speak; and, -said the lady who gave this information to the writer,—who was an -aunt of the children, and whose home was with them,—they were never -known during this interval to call their mother by that name. They had -their own name for her, but never the English. In fact, though they -had the usual affections, were rejoiced to see their father at his -returning home each night, playing with him, &c., they would seem to -have been otherwise completely taken up, absorbed with each other.... -The children had not yet been to school; for, not being able to speak -their ‘own English,’ it seemed impossible to send them from home. They -thus passed the days, playing and talking together in their own speech, -with all the liveliness and volubility of common children. Their accent -was German—as it seemed to the family. They had regular words, a few -of which the family learned sometimes to distinguish; as that, for -example, for carriage, which, on hearing one pass in the street, they -would exclaim out, and run to the window. This word for carriage, we -are told in another place, was ‘ni-si-boo-a,’ of which, it is added, -the syllables were sometimes so repeated that they made a much longer -word.” - -The next case is quoted by Mr. Hale from Dr. E. R. Hun, who recorded -it in the _Monthly Journal of Psychological Medicine_, 1868. - -“The subject of this observation is a girl aged four and a half years, -sprightly, intelligent, and in good health. The mother observed, when -she was two years old, that she was backward in speaking, and only -used the words ‘papa’ and ‘mamma.’ After that she began to use words -of her own invention, and though she understood readily what she said, -never employed the words used by others. Gradually she enlarged her -vocabulary until it has reached the extent described below. She has -a brother eighteen months younger than herself, who has learned her -language, so that they can talk freely together. He, however, seems -to have adopted it only because he has more intercourse with her than -the others; and in some instances he will use a proper word with his -mother, and his sister’s word with her. She, however, persists in -using only her own words, though her parents, who are uneasy about -her peculiarity of speech, make great efforts to induce her to use -proper words. As to the possibility of her having learned these words -from others, it is proper to state that her parents are persons of -cultivation, who use only the English language. The mother has learned -French, but never uses the language in conversation. The domestics, -as well as the nurses, speak English without any peculiarities, and -the child has heard even less than usual of what is called baby-talk. -Some of the words and phrases have a resemblance to the French; but -it is certain that no person using that language has frequented the -house, and it is doubtful whether the child has on any occasion heard -it spoken. There seems to be no difficulty about the vocal organs. She -uses her language readily and freely, and when she is with her brother -they converse with great rapidity and fluency. - -“Dr. Hun then gives the vocabulary, which, he states, was such as he -had ‘been able at different times to compile from the child herself, -and especially from the report of her mother.’ From this statement we -may infer that the list probably did not include the whole number of -words in this child-language. It comprises, in fact, only twenty-one -distinct words, though many of these were used in a great variety of -acceptations, indicated by the order in which they were arranged, or by -compounding them in various ways.... - -“Three or four of the words, as Dr. Hun remarks, bear an evident -resemblance to the French, and others might, by a slight change, -be traced to that language. He was unable, it will be seen, to say -positively that the girl had never heard the language spoken; and it -seems not unlikely that, if not among the domestics, at least among -the persons who visited them, there may have been one who amused -herself, innocently enough, by teaching the child a few words of -that tongue. It is, indeed, by no means improbable that the peculiar -linguistic instinct may thus have been first aroused in the mind -of the girl, when just beginning to speak. Among the words showing -this resemblance are _feu_ (pronounced, we are expressly told, like -the French word), used to signify ‘fire, light, cigar, sun;’ _too_ -(the French ‘tout’), meaning ‘all, everything;’ and _ne pa_ (whether -pronounced as in French, or otherwise, we are not told), signifying -‘not.’ _Petee-petee_, the name given to the boy by his sister, is -apparently the French ‘petit,’ little; and _ma_, ‘I,’ may be from the -French ‘moi,’ ‘me.’ If, however, the child was really able to catch -and remember so readily these foreign sounds at such an early age, -and to interweave them into a speech of her own, it would merely show -how readily and strongly in her case the language-making faculty was -developed. - -“Of words formed by imitation of sounds, the language shows barely a -trace. The mewing of the cat evidently suggested the word _mea_, which -signified both ‘cat’ and ‘furs.’ For the other vocables which make up -this speech, no origin can be conjectured. We can merely notice that in -some of the words the liking which children and some races of men have -for the repetition of sounds is apparent. Thus we have _migno-migno_, -signifying ‘water, wash, bath;’ _go-go_, ‘delicacies, as sugar, candy, -or dessert,’ and _waia-waiar_, ‘black, darkness, or a negro.’ There -is, as will be seen from these examples, no special tendency to -the monosyllabic form. _Gummigar_, we are told, signifies ‘all the -substantials of the table, such as bread, meat, vegetables, &c.;’ and -the same word is used to designate the cook. The boy, it is added, does -not use this word, but uses _gna-migna_, which the girl considers as -a mistake. From which we may gather that even at their tender age the -form of their language had become with them an object of thought; and -we may infer, moreover, that the language was not invented solely by -the girl, but that both the children contributed to frame it. - -“Of miscellaneous words may be mentioned _gar_, ‘horse;’ _deer_, -‘money of any kind;’ _beer_, ‘literature, books, or school;’ _peer_, -‘ball;’ _bau_, ‘soldier, music;’ _odo_, ‘to send for, to go out, to -take away;’ _keh_, ‘to soil;’ _pa-ma_, ‘to go to sleep, pillow, bed.’ -The variety of acceptations which each word was capable of receiving -is exemplified in many ways. Thus _feu_ might become an adjective, as -_ne-pa-feu_, ‘not warm.’ The verb _odo_ had many meanings, according to -its position or the words which accompanied it. _Ma odo_, ‘I (want to) -go out;’ _gar odo_, ‘send for the horse;’ _too odo_, ‘all gone.’ _Gaan_ -signified God; and we are told—When it rains, the children often run -to the window, and call out, _Gaan odo migno-migno, feu odo_, which -means, ‘God take away the rain, and send the sun’—_odo_ before the -object meaning ‘to take away,’ and after the object, ‘to send.’ From -this remark and example we learn, not merely that the language had—as -all real languages must have—its rules of construction, but that these -were sometimes different from the English rules. This also appears in -the form _mea waia-waiaw_, ‘dark furs’ (literally, ‘furs dark’), where -the adjective follows its substantive. - -“The odd and unexpected associations which in all languages govern -the meaning of words are apparent in this brief vocabulary. We can -gather from it that the parents were Catholics, and punctual in church -observances. The words _papa_ and _mamma_ were used separately in -their ordinary sense; but when linked together in the compound term -_papa-mamma_, they signified (according to the connection, we may -presume), ‘church,’ ‘prayer-book,’ ‘cross,’ ‘priest,’ ‘to say their -prayers.’ _Bau_ was ‘soldier;’ but, we are told, from seeing the bishop -in his mitre and vestments, thinking he was a soldier, they applied the -word _bau_ to him. _Gar odo_ properly signified ‘send for the horse;’ -but as the children frequently saw their father, when a carriage was -wanted, write an order and send it to the stable, they came to use the -same expression (_gar odo_) for pencil and paper. - -“There is no appearance of inflection, properly speaking, in the -language; and this is only what might be expected. Very young children -rarely use inflected forms in any language. The English child of three -or four years says, ‘Mary cup,’ for ‘Mary’s cup;’ and ‘Dog bite Harry’ -will represent every tense and mood. It is by no means improbable that, -if the children had continued to use their own language for a few years -longer, inflections would have been developed in it, as we see that -peculiar forms of construction and novel compounds—which are the germs -of inflection—had already made their appearance. - -“These two recorded instances of child-languages have led to further -inquiries, which, though pursued only for a brief period, and in a -limited field, have shown that cases of this sort are by no means -uncommon.” - -The author then proceeds to furnish other corroborative instances; but -the above quotations are, I think, sufficient for my purposes.[88] For -they show (1) that the spontaneous and to all appearances arbitrary -word-making, which is more or less observable in all children when -first beginning to speak, may, under favourable circumstances, proceed -to an astonishing degree of fulness and efficiency; (2) that although -the words, or articulate signs, thus invented are sometimes of a -plainly onomatopoetic origin, as a general rule they are not so; (3) -that the words are far from being always monosyllabic; (4) that they -admit of becoming sufficiently numerous and varied to constitute a not -inefficient language, without as yet having advanced to the inflexional -stage; and (5) that the syntax of this language presents obvious points -of resemblance to that of the gesture-languages of mankind previously -considered. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -RELATION OF TONE AND GESTURE TO WORDS. - - -We have already seen that spoken language differs from the language -of tone and gesture in being, as a system of signs, more purely -conventional. This means that for semiotic purposes articulation is -a higher product of mental evolution than either gesticulation or -intonation. It also means that as an instrument of such evolution -articulate speech is more efficient. The latter point is an important -one, so I shall proceed to deal with it at some length. - -As noticed in a previous chapter, our system of coinage, bank-notes, -and bills of sale is a more convenient system of signifying value of -labour or of property, than is the more primitive and less conventional -system of actually exchanging the labour or bartering the property; -and our system of arithmetic is similarly more convenient for the -purpose of calculation than is the more natural system of counting -on the fingers. But not only are these more conventional systems -more convenient; they are likewise conducive to a higher development -of business transactions on the one hand, and of calculation on the -other. In the absence of such an improved system of signs, it would -be impossible to conduct as many or such intricate transactions and -calculations as we do conduct. Similarly with speech as distinguished -from gesture. Words, like gestures, are signs of thoughts and feelings; -but in being more conventional they are more pure as signs, and so -admit of being wrought up into a much more convenient or efficient -system, while at the same time they become more constructive in their -influence upon ideation. The great superiority of words over gestures -in both these respects may most easily be shown by the use of a few -examples. - -I open Colonel Mallery’s book at random, and find the following as the -sign for a barking dog:— - -“Pass the arched hand forward from the lower part of the face, to -illustrate elongated nose and mouth; then, with both forefingers -extended, remaining fingers and thumbs closed, place them upon either -side of the lower jaw, pointing upwards, to show lower canines, at the -same time accompanying the gesture with an expression of withdrawing -the lips so as to show the teeth snarling; then, with the fingers of -the right hand extended and separated throw them quickly forward and -slightly upward (voice or talking).” - -Here, be it observed, how elaborate is this pictorial method of -designating a dog barking as compared with the use of two words; and -after all it is not so efficient, for the signs were misunderstood -by the Indians to whom they were shown—the meaning assigned to them -being that of a growling bear. What a large expenditure of thought is -required for the devising and the interpretation of such ideograms! -and, when they are formed and understood, how cumbersome do they -appear if contrasted with words! Colonel Mallery, indeed, says of -gesture-language that, “when highly cultivated, its rapidity on -familiar subjects exceeds that of speech, and approaches to that of -thought itself;” but, besides the important limitation “on familiar -subjects,” he adds,—“at the same time it must be admitted that great -increase in rapidity is chiefly obtained by the system of preconcerted -abbreviations before explained, and by the adoption of arbitrary forms, -in which naturalness is sacrificed and conventionality established.”[89] - -But besides being cumbersome, gesture-language labours under the -more serious defect of not being so precise, and the still more -serious defect of not being so serviceable as spoken language in -the development of abstraction. We have previously seen how words, -being more or less purely conventional as signs, are not tied down, -as it were, to material objects; although they have doubtless all -originated as expressive of sensuous perceptions, not being necessarily -ideographic, they may easily pass into signs of general ideas, and -end by becoming expressive of the highest abstractions. “Words are -thus the easily manipulated counters of thought,” and so, to change -the metaphor, are the progeny of generalization. But gestures, in -being always more or less ideographic, are much more closely chained -to sensuous perceptions; and, therefore, it is only when exercised on -“familiar subjects” that they can fairly be said to rival words as a -means of expression, while they can never soar into the thinner medium -of high abstraction. No sign-talker, with any amount of time at his -disposal, could translate into the language of gesture a page of Kant. - -Let it be observed that I am here speaking of gesture-language as we -actually find it. What the latent capabilities of such language may be -is another question, and one with reference to which speculation is -scarcely calculated to prove profitable. Nevertheless, as the subject -is not altogether without importance in the present connection, I may -quote the following brief passage from a recent essay by Professor -Whitney. After remarking that “the voice has won to itself the chief -and almost exclusive part in communication,” he adds:— - -“This is not in the least because of any closer connection of the -thinking apparatus with the muscles that act to produce audible -sounds than with those that act to produce visible motions; not -because there are natural uttered names for conceptions, any more -than natural gestured names. It is simply a case of ‘survival of the -fittest,’ or analogous to the process by which iron has become the -exclusive material of swords, and gold and silver for money: because, -namely, experience has shown this to be the material best adapted -to this special use. The advantages of the voice are numerous and -obvious. There is first its economy, as employing a mechanism that is -available for little else, and leaving free for other purposes those -indispensable instruments, the hands. Then there is its superior -perceptibleness; its nice differences impress themselves upon the sense -at a distance at which visible motions become indistinct; they are not -hidden by intervening objects; they allow the eyes of the listeners as -well as the hands of the speaker to be employed in other useful work; -they are as plain in the dark as in the light; and they are able to -catch and command the attention of one who is not to be reached in any -other way.”[90] - -To these advantages we may add that words, in being as we have seen -less essentially ideographic than gestures, must always have been -more available for purposes of abstract expression. We must remember -how greatly gesture-language, as it now appears in its most elaborate -form, is indebted to the psychologically constructing influence of -spoken language; and, thus viewed, it is a significant fact that -even now gesture language is not able to convey ideas of any high -degree of abstraction. Still, I doubt not it would be possible to -construct a wholly conventional system of gestures which should answer -to, or correspond with, all the abstract words and inflections of -a spoken language; and that then the one sign-system might replace -the other—just as the sign-system of writing is able similarly to -replace that of speech. This, however, is a widely different thing from -supposing that such a perfect system of gesture-signs could have grown -by a process of natural development; and, looking to the essentially -ideographic character of such signs, I greatly question whether, even -under circumstances of the strongest necessity (such as would have -arisen if man, or his progenitors, had been unable to articulate), the -language of gesture could have been developed into anything approaching -a substitute for the language of words. - -It may tend to throw some light on this hypothetical question—which -is of some importance for us—if we consider briefly the psychological -_status_ of wholly uneducated deaf-mutes; for although it is true that -their case is not fairly parallel to that of a human race destitute -of the faculty of speech (seeing that the individual deaf-mute does -not find any elaborate system of signs prepared for him by the -exertions of dumb ancestors, as would doubtless have been the case -under the circumstances supposed), still, on the other hand, and as -a compensating consideration, we must remember that the individual -deaf-mute not only inherits a human brain, the structure of which has -been elaborated by the speech of his ancestors, but is also surrounded -by a society the whole structure of whose ideation is dependent upon -speech. So far, therefore, as the complex conditions of the question -admit of being disentangled, the case of uneducated deaf-mutes living -in a society of speaking persons affords the best criterion we can -obtain of the prospect which gesture-language would have had as a -means of thought-formation in the human race, supposing this race to -have been destitute of the faculty of speech. To show, therefore, the -psychological condition of an individual thus circumstanced, I will -quote a brief passage from a lecture of my own, which was given before -the British Association in 1878. - -“It often happens that deaf and dumb children of poor parents are so -far neglected that they are never taught finger-language, or any other -system of signs, whereby to converse with their fellow-creatures. The -consequence, of course, is that these unfortunate children grow up -in a state of intellectual isolation, which is almost as complete as -that of any of the lower animals. Now, when such a child grows up and -falls into the hands of some competent teacher, it may of course be -educated, and is then in a position to record its experiences when in -its state of intellectual isolation. I have therefore obtained all the -evidence I can as to the mental condition of such persons, and I find -that their testimony is perfectly uniform. In the absence of language, -the mind is able to think in the logic of feelings; but can never -rise to any ideas of higher abstraction than those which the logic of -feelings supplies. The uneducated deaf-mutes have the same notions of -right and wrong, cause and effect, and so on, as we have already seen -that animals and idiots possess. They always think in the most concrete -forms, as shown by their telling us (when educated) that so long as -they were uneducated they always thought in pictures. Moreover, that -they cannot attain to ideas of even the lowest degree of abstraction, -is shown by the fact that in no one instance have I been able to find -evidence of a deaf-mute who, prior to education, had evolved for -himself any form of supernaturalism. And this, I think, is remarkable, -not only because we might fairly suppose that some rude form of -fetishism, or ghost-worship, would not be too abstract a system for the -unaided mind of a civilized man to elaborate; but also because the mind -in this case is _not_ wholly unaided. On the contrary, the friends of -the deaf-mute usually do their utmost to communicate to his mind some -idea of whatever form of religion they may happen to possess. Yet it is -uniformly found that, in the absence of language, no idea of this kind -can be communicated. For instance, the Rev. S. Smith tells me that one -of his pupils, previous to education, supposed the Bible to have been -printed by a printing-press in the sky, which was worked by printers -of enormous strength—this being the only interpretation the deaf-mute -could assign to the gestures whereby his parents had sought to make him -understand, that they believed the Bible to contain a revelation from -a God of power who lives in heaven. Similarly, Mr. Graham Bell informs -me of another, though similar case, in which the deaf-mute supposed the -object of going to church to be that of doing obeisance to the clergy.” - -To the same effect Mr. Tylor says, in the passage already quoted, -that deaf-mutes cannot form ideas of any save the lowest degree of -abstraction, and further on he gives some interesting illustrations of -the fact. Thus, for instance, a deaf-mute who had been educated said -that before his instruction his fingers had taught him his numbers, -and that when the number was over ten, he made notches on a piece of -wood. Here we see the inherited capability of numerical computation -united with the crudest form of numerical notation, or symbolism. And -so in all other cases of deaf-mutes before instruction; they present -an inherited capacity of abstract ideation, and yet do not find their -sign-language of much service in assisting them to develop this -capacity: it is too essentially pictorial to go far beyond the region -of sensuous perception. - -Thus, on the whole, although I deem it profitless to speculate on what -the language of gestures might have become in the absence of speech, -I think it is highly questionable whether it would have reached any -considerable level of excellence; and I think it is not improbable -that, in the absence of articulation, the human race would not have -made much psychological advance upon the anthropoid apes. For we must -never forget the important fact that thought is quite as much the -effect as it is the cause of language, whether of speech or of gesture; -and seeing how inferior gesture is to speech as a system of language, -especially in regard to precision and abstraction, I do not think it -probable that, in the absence of speech, gesture alone would have -supplied the exact and delicate conditions which are essential to the -growth of any highly elaborate ideation. - -The next point which I desire to consider is that, although gesture -language is not in my opinion so efficient a means of developing -abstract ideation as is spoken language, it must nevertheless have been -of much service in assisting the growth of the latter, and so must -have been of much service in laying the foundation of the whole mental -fabric which has been constructed by the faculty of speech. Whether we -look to young children, to savages, or in a lesser degree to idiots, we -find that gesture plays an important part in assisting speech; and in -all cases where a vocabulary is scanty or imperfect, gesture is sure to -be employed as the natural means of supplementing speech. Therefore, -supposing speech to have had a natural mode of genesis, it is, in my -opinion, perfectly certain that its origin and development must have -been greatly assisted by gesture. In subsequent chapters I will adduce -direct evidence upon this head. At present I wish to draw attention -to another point. This is, that although gesture psychologically -precedes speech, when once articulate sounds have been devised for the -expression of ideas, the faculty of using these articulate sounds as -signs of their corresponding ideas does not involve the presence of a -higher psychological development than does the faculty of using tones -and gestures for the conveyance of similar ideas. - -As already shown, it is a matter of observable fact that the only -animals which are able to articulate are able to employ nouns, -adjectives, and verbs, as expressive of concrete ideas; while animals -which are not able to articulate similarly employ tones, and in many -cases are able to understand words. Therefore, it is a matter of -observable fact that the psychological level required for using tones -as vocal gestures, understanding words as expressive of simple ideas, -and even uttering words with a correct appreciation of their meaning, -is a level not higher than that which obtains in some existing animals. - -If we turn from animals to man, we find the same truth exemplified. -For in the descending grade of human intelligence as exhibited by -idiots, we see that while the use of simple gestures as signs occurs -in idiots somewhat too low in the scale to utter any articulate words, -nevertheless the interval between such an idiot and one capable -of uttering the simplest words is a short interval. Again, in the -ascending grade of human intelligence, as exhibited by the growing -child, we find the same observation to apply; although, on account -of some children requiring a longer time than others to develop the -_mechanique_ of articulation, we might by considering their cases alone -over-estimate the psychological interval which separates gesticulation -from speech.[91] - -Thus all the evidence at our disposal goes to show that, while the -language of tone and gesture is distinctive, in its least-developed -form, of a comparatively low grade of mental evolution, in all but -its least-developed form it is not thus distinctive; for as soon as -the language of gesture becomes in the smallest degree conventional, -so soon is the psychological level sufficiently high to admit of the -use of articulate sounds, vocal gestures, or words expressive of -concrete ideas—always supposing that these are already supplied by the -psychological environment. Whether or not articulate sounds are then -actually made depends, of course, on conditions of a purely anatomical -kind. - -And here it may be as well to remember the point previously mentioned, -namely, that although no existing quadrumanous animal has shown itself -able to articulate, we may be quite sure that this fact depends on -anatomical as distinguished from psychological conditions; for not -only are the higher monkeys much more intelligent than talking birds, -but they are likewise much more imitative of human gestures; and for -both these reasons they are the animals which, more than any others, -would be psychologically apt to learn the use of words from man, were -it not for some accident of anatomy which stands in the way of their -uttering them. And in this connection it is worth while to bear in mind -the remark of Professor Huxley, that an imperceptibly small difference -of innervation, or other anatomical character of the parts concerned, -might determine or prevent the faculty of making articulate sounds. - - * * * * * - -Looking to the direction in which my argument is tending, this appears -to be the most convenient place to dispose of a criticism that is -not unlikely to arise. It may be suggested, by way of objection to my -views, that if all the foregoing discussion is accepted as paving the -way to the conclusion that human intelligence has been developed from -animal intelligence, the discussion itself is proving too much. For, if -animals possess in so conspicuous a degree the germ of the sign-making -faculty, why, it may be asked, has this germ been developed only in the -case of our own ancestors? - -In answer to this question I must begin by reminding the reader, -that during the course of the present chapter I have endeavoured to -make good the following positions. First, that in the absence of -articulation, or of the power of forming verbal signs, the faculty of -language is not likely to have made much advance in the animal kingdom. -Second, seeing that words are essentially less ideographic, as well -as more precise than gestures—and, therefore, more available for the -purpose both of expressing and constructing abstract ideas,—I do not -think it is probable that in the absence of articulation the human -race would have made much psychological advance upon the anthropoid -apes. Third, that although gesture language is not so efficient a -means of developing abstract ideation as is articulate language, it -must nevertheless have been of much service in assisting the growth -of the latter; so that where the power of articulation was present, -both systems of sign-making would have co-operated in the development -of abstract thought: in the presence of articulation, gestures would -themselves gain additional influence in this respect. - -From these data there follows the important consequence that only from -some species of ape which possessed the requisite anatomical conditions -could the human mind have taken its origin. In other words, the above -considerations are adduced to show the futility of arguing that, if -the human mind has been developed in virtue of the sign-making faculty -as this is exemplified in speech, we might therefore have expected -that from the same starting-point (namely, the anthropoid apes) -some comparably well-elaborated mind should have been developed in -virtue of the sign-making faculty as this is exemplified in gesture. -I maintain that we can see very good reason why (even if we suppose -all the other conditions parallel) the branch of the Primates which -presented the power—or the potentiality—of articulation should have -been able to rise in the psychological scale, as we evolutionists -believe that it has risen; while all the companion branches, being -restricted in their language to gesture, should have remained in their -original condition. - -To this it may be answered that the talking birds might be looked to -as the possible—or even probable—rivals of articulating mammals in -respect of potential intelligence; and, therefore, that according to -the views which I am advocating, it might have been expected that there -should now be existing upon the earth some race of bird-like creatures -ready to dispute the supremacy of man. - -This, however, would be a very shallow criticism. The veriest tyro in -natural science is aware that, if there is any truth at all in the -general theory of descent, we are everywhere compelled to see that -the conditions which determine the development of a species in any -direction are always of a complex character. Why one species should -remain constant through inconceivably enormous lapses of geological -time, while others pass through a rich and varied history of upward -change—why this should be so in any case we cannot say. We can only -say, in general terms, that the conditions which in any case determine -upward growth or stationary type are too numerous and complex to admit -of our unravelling them in detail. Now, if this is the case even as -between the structures of allied types—where there may be nothing -to indicate the difference of the conditions which have led to the -difference of results,—much more must it be the case between animals -so unlike as a parrot and an ape. I think he would be a bold man who -would affirm that even if the orang-outang had been able to articulate, -this ape would necessarily, or probably, have become the progenitor of -another human race. Absurd, then, it is to argue that, if the human -race sprang from some other species of man-like creature, and became -human in virtue of the power of articulation _plus_ all the other -conditions external and internal, therefore the talking birds ought -to have developed some similar progeny, merely because they happen to -satisfy one of these conditions. - -Take a fair analogy. Flying is no doubt a very useful faculty to all -animals which present it, and it is shown to be mechanically possible -in animals so unlike one another as Insects, Reptiles, Birds, and -Mammals. We might therefore suppose that, from the fact of bats being -able to fly, many other mammals should have acquired the art. But, as -they have not done so, we can only say that the reason is because the -complex conditions leading to the growth of this faculty have been -satisfied in the bats alone. Similarly “the flight of thought” is a -most useful faculty, and it has only been developed in man. One of the -conditions required for its development—power of articulation—occurs -also in a few birds. But to argue from this that these birds ought to -have developed the faculty of thought, would be just as unwarrantable -as to argue that some other mammals ought to have developed the faculty -of flight, seeing that they all present the most important of the -needful conditions—to wit, bones and muscles actuated by nerves. -Indeed, the argument would be even more unwarranted than this; for we -can see plainly enough that the most important conditions required -for the development of thought are of a psychological and social -kind—those which are merely anatomical being but of secondary value, -even though, as I have endeavoured to indicate, they are none the less -indispensable. - -In short, I am not endeavouring to argue that the influence of -articulation on the development of thought is in any way _magical_. -Therefore, the mere fact that certain birds are able to make articulate -sounds in itself furnishes no more difficulty to my argument than the -fact that they are able to imitate a variety of other sounds. For the -_psychological_ use of articulate sounds can only be developed in the -presence of many other and highly complex conditions, few if any of -which can be shown to obtain among birds. If any existing species -of anthropoid ape had proved itself capable of imitating articulate -sounds, there might have been a little more force in the apparent -difficulty; though even in that case the argument would not have been -so strong as in the above parallel with regard to the great exception -furnished by bats in the matter of flight. - -So far, then, as we have yet gone, I do not anticipate that opponents -wall find it prudent to take a stand. Seeing that monkeys use their -voices more freely than any other animals in the way of intentionally -expressive intonation; that all the higher animals make use of gesture -signs; that denotative words are (psychologically considered) nothing -more than vocal gestures; that, if there is any psychological interval -between simple gesticulation and denotative articulation, the interval -is demonstrably bridged in the case alike of talking birds, infants, -and idiots;—seeing all these things, it is evident that opponents -of the doctrine of mental evolution must take their stand, not on -the faculty of _articulation_, but on that of _speech_. They must -maintain that the mere power of using denotative words implies no -real advance upon the power of using denotative gestures; that it -therefore establishes nothing to prove the possibility, or even the -probability, of articulation arising out of gesticulation; that their -position can only be attacked by showing how a sign-making faculty, -whether expressed in gesticulation or in articulation, can have become -developed into the faculty of predication; that, in short, the fortress -of their argument consists, not in the power which man displays of -using denotative words, but in his power of constructing predicative -propositions. This central position, therefore, we must next attack. -But, before doing so, I will close the present chapter by clearly -defining the exact meanings of certain terms as they will afterwards be -used by me. - -By the _indicative_ stage of language, or sign-making, I will -understand the earliest stage that is exhibited by intentional -sign-making. This stage corresponds to the divisions marked four -and six in my representative scheme (p. 88), and, as we have now -so fully seen, is common to animals and human beings. Indicative -signs, then, whether in the form of gestures, tones, or words, are -intentionally significant. For the most part they are expressive of -emotional states, and simple desires. When, for example, an infant -holds out its arms to be taken by the nurse, or points to objects -in order to be taken to them, it cannot be said to be _naming_ -anything; yet it is clearly _indicating_ its wants. Infants also cry -_intentionally_, or as a partly conventional sign to show discomfort, -whether bodily or mental.[92] They will likewise at an early age learn -wholly conventional signs whereby to indicate—though not yet to -name—particular feelings, objects, qualities, and actions. My son, for -instance, was taught by his nurse to shake his head for “No,” nod it -for “Yes,” and wave his hand for “Ta-ta,” or leave-taking: all these -indicative gestures he performed well and appropriately when eight and -a half months old. This indicative stage of language, or sign-making, -is universally exhibited by all the more intelligent animals, although -not to so great an extent as in infants. The parrot which depresses its -head to invite a scratching, the dog which begs before a wash-stand, -the cat which pulls one’s clothes to solicit help for her kittens in -distress—all these animals are making what I call _indicative_ signs. - -Following upon the indicative stage of language there is what I have -called _denotative_ (7 A in the scheme on p. 88). This likewise occurs -both in animals and in children when first beginning to speak—talking -birds, for instance, being able to learn and correctly use names as -_notæ_, or marks, of particular objects, qualities, and actions. Yet -such _notæ_—be they verbal or otherwise—thus learned by special -association, are not, strictly speaking, _names_. By the use of such -a sign the talking bird merely affixes a vocal mark to a particular -object, quality, or action: it does not _extend_ the sign to any -other similar objects, qualities, or actions of the same class; and, -therefore, by its use of that sign does not really _connote_ anything -of the particular object, quality, or action which it _denotes_. - -So much, then, for signs as _denotative_. By signs as _connotative_, -I mean signs which are in any measure _attributive_. If we call a dog -Jack, that is a denotative name: it does not attribute any quality as -belonging to that dog. But if we call the animal “Smut,” or “Swift,” or -by any other word serving to imply some quality which is distinctive -of that dog, we are thereby connoting of the dog the fact of his -presenting such a quality. Connotative names, therefore, differ from -denotative, in that they are not merely _notæ_ or marks of the things -named, but also imply some character, or characters, as belonging -to those things. And the character, or characters, which they thus -imply, by the mere fact of implication, assign the things named to a -_group_: hence these connotative names are _con-notæ_, or the marking -of one thing _along with_ another—_i.e._ express an act of nominative -_classification_. This is an important fact to remember, because, as -we shall afterwards find, all connotative terms arise from the need -which we experience of thus verbally classifying our perceptions of -likeness or analogy. Moreover, it is of even still more importance -to note that such verbal classification may be either receptual or -conceptual. For instance, the first word (after _Mamma_, _Papa_, -&c.) that one of my children learnt to say was the word _Star_. Soon -after having acquired this word, she extended its signification to -other brightly shining objects, such as candles, gas-lights, &c. Here -there was plainly a perception of likeness or analogy, and hence the -term _Star_, from having been originally denotative, began to be also -connotative. But this connotative extension of the term must evidently -have been what I term receptual. For it is impossible to suppose that -at that tender age the child was capable of thinking about the term -_as_ a term, or of setting the term before the mind as an object of -thought, distinct from the object which it served to name. Therefore, -we can only suppose that the extension of this originally denotative -name (whereby it began to be connotative) resembled the case of a -similar extension mentioned in the last chapter, where my parrot raised -its originally denotative sign for a particular dog to an incipiently -connotative value, by applying that sign to all other dogs. That is to -say, both in the case of the child and the bird, connotation within -these moderate limits was rendered possible by means of receptual -ideation alone. But, with advancing age and developing powers, the -human mind attains to conceptual ideation; and it is then in a position -to constitute the names which it uses _themselves objects of thought_. -The consequence is that connotation may then no longer represent the -merely spontaneous expression of likeness receptually perceived: it -may become the intentional expression of likeness conceptually thought -out. In the mind of an astronomer the word _Star_ presents a very -different mass of connotative meaning from that which it presented to -the child, who first extended it from a bright point in the sky to a -candle shining in a room. And the reason of this great difference is, -that the conceptual thought of the astronomer, besides having greatly -_added_ to the connotation, has also greatly _improved_ it. The only -common quality which the name served to connote when used by the child -was that of brightness; but, although the astronomer is not blind to -this point of resemblance between a star and a candle, he disregards -it in the presence of fuller knowledge, and will not apply the term -even to objects so much more closely resembling a star as a comet or a -meteor. Now, this greater _accuracy_ of connotation, quite as much as -the greater _mass_ of it, has been reached by the astronomer in virtue -of his powers of conceptual thought. It is because he has thought about -his names _as_ names that he has thus been able with so much accuracy -to define their meanings—_i.e._ to limit their connotations in some -directions, as well as to extend them in others. - -Obviously, therefore, we are here in the presence of a great -distinction, and one which needs itself to be in some way connoted. -It is, indeed, but a special exhibition of the one great distinction -which I have carried through the whole course of this work—namely, -that between ideation as receptual and conceptual. But it is none the -less important to designate this special exhibition of it by means of -well-defined terms; and I can only express surprise that such should -not already have been done by logicians. The terms which I shall use -are the following. - -By a connotative name I will understand the connotative extension of -a denotative name, whether such extension be great or small, and, -therefore, whether it be extended receptually or conceptually. But -for the _exclusively conceptual_ extension of a name I will reserve -the convenient term _denomination_. This term, like those previously -defined, was introduced by the schoolmen, and by them was used as -synonymous with connotation. But it is evident that they (and all -subsequent writers) only had before their minds the case of conceptual -connotation, and hence they felt no need of the distinction which -for present purposes it is obviously imperative to draw. Now, I do -not think that any two more appropriate words could be found whereby -to express this distinction than are these words _connotation_ and -_denomination_, if for the purposes of my own subsequent analysis I am -allowed to define them in accordance with their etymology. For, when so -defined, a connotative sign will mean a _classificatory_ sign, whether -conferred receptually or conceptually; while a denominative sign will -mean a connotative sign which has been conferred as such _with a truly -conceptual intention_—_i.e._ with an introspective appreciation of its -function as all that logicians understand by a _name_. - -I will now sum up these sundry definitions. - -By an _indicative_ sign I will understand a significant tone or -gesture intentionally expressive of a mental state; but yet not in any -sense of the word denominative. - -By a _denotative_ sign I will understand the receptual marking of -particular objects, qualities, actions, &c. - -By a _connotative_ sign I will understand the classificatory -attribution of qualities to objects named by the sign, whether such -attribution be due to receptual or to conceptual operations of the mind. - -By a _denominative_ sign I will understand a connotative sign -consciously bestowed as such, or with a full conceptual appreciation of -its office and purpose as a name. - -By a _predicative_ sign I will mean a proposition, or the conceptual -apposition of two denominative terms, expressive of the speaker’s -intention to connote something of the one by means of the other. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -SPEECH. - - -We are now coming to close quarters with our subject. All the -foregoing chapters have been arranged with a view to preparing the -way for what is hereafter to follow; and, therefore, as already -remarked, I have thus far presented material over which I do not -think it is possible that any dispute can arise. But now we come to -that particular exhibition of the sign-making faculty which not only -appears to be peculiar to man, but which obviously presents so great -an advance upon all the lower phases hitherto considered, that it is -the place where my opponents have chosen to take their stand. When a -man maintains that there is a difference of kind between animal and -human intelligence, he naturally feels himself under some obligation -to indicate the point where this difference obtains. To say that it -obtains with the appearance of language, in the sense of sign-making, -is obviously too wide a statement; for, as we have now so fully seen, -language, in this widest sense, demonstrably obtains among the lower -animals. Consequently, the line must be drawn, not at language or -sign-making, but at that particular kind of sign-making which we -understand by Speech. Now the distinctive peculiarity of this kind of -sign-making—and one, therefore, which does not occur in any other -kind—consists in predication, or the using of signs as movable -types for the purpose of making propositions. It does not signify -whether or not the signs thus used are words. The gestures of Indians -and deaf-mutes admit, as we have seen, of being wrought up into a -machinery of predication which, for all purposes of practical life, -is almost as efficient as speech. The distinction, therefore, resides -in the intellectual powers; not in the symbols thereof. So that a -man _means_, it matters not by what system of signs he expresses his -meaning: the distinction between him and the brute consists in his -being able to _mean a proposition_. Now, the kind of mental act whereby -a man is thus enabled to mean a proposition is called by psychologists -an act of Judgment. Predication, or the making of a proposition, is -nothing more nor less than the expression of a judgment; and a judgment -is nothing more nor less than the apprehension of whatever meaning it -may be that a proposition serves to set forth. Therefore, it belongs to -the very essence of predication that it should involve a judgment; and -it belongs to the very essence of a judgment that it should admit of -being stated in the form of a proposition.[93] - -Lastly, just as this is the place where my opponents take a stand, -so, as they freely allow, it is the only place where they _can_ take -a stand. If once this chasm of speech were bridged, there would be -no further chasm to cross. From the simplest judgment which it is -possible to make, and therefore from the simplest proposition which -it is possible to construct, it is on all hands admitted that human -intelligence displays an otherwise uniform or uninterrupted ascent -through all the grades of excellence which it afterwards presents. -Here, then, and here alone, we have what Professor Max Müller calls -the Rubicon of Mind, which separates the brute from the man, and over -which, it is alleged, the army of Science can never hope to pass. - -In order to present the full difficulty which is here encountered, I -will allow it to be stated by the ablest of my opponents. As President -of the Biological Section of the British Association in 1879, Mr. -Mivart expressed his matured thought upon the subject thus:— - -“The simplest element of thought seems to me to be a ‘judgment,’ -with intuition of reality concerning some ‘fact,’ regarded as a fact -real or ideal. Moreover, this judgment is not itself a modified -imagination, because the imaginations which may give occasion to it -persist unmodified in the mind side by side with the judgment they -have called up. Let us take, as examples, the judgments, ‘That thing -is good to eat,’ and ‘Nothing can be and not be at the same time and -in the same sense.’ As to the former, we vaguely imagine ‘things good -to eat;’ but they must exist _beside_ the judgment, not _in_ it. They -can be recalled, compared, and seen to co-exist. So with the other -judgment, the mind is occupied with certain abstract ideas, though the -imagination has certain vague ‘images’ answering respectively to ‘a -thing being,’ and ‘a thing not being,’ and to ‘at the same time’ and -‘in the same sense;’ but the images do not _constitute_ the judgment -itself, any more than human ‘swimming’ is made up of limbs and fluid, -though without such necessary elements no such swimming could take -place.[94] - -“This distinction is also shown by the fact that one and the same idea -may be suggested to, and maintained in, the mind by the help of the -most incongruous images, and very different ideas by the very same -image; this we may see to be the case with such ideas as ‘number,’ -‘purpose,’ ‘motion,’ ‘identity,’ &c. - -“But the distinctness of ‘thought’ from ‘imagination’ may perhaps -be made clearer by the drawing out fully what we really do when we -make some simple judgment, as, _e.g._, ‘A negro is black.’ Here, in -the first place, we directly and explicitly affirm that there is a -conformity between the external thing, ‘a negro,’ and the external -quality ‘blackness’—the negro possessing that quality. We affirm, -secondarily and implicitly, a conformity between two external entities -and two corresponding internal concepts. And thirdly, and lastly, -we also implicitly affirm the existence of a conformity between the -subjective judgment and the objective existence.”[95] - -I will next allow this matter to be presented in the words of another -adversary, and one whom Mr. Mivart approvingly quotes. - -“The question is, Can the sense say anything—make a judgment at all? -Can it furnish the blank formula of a judgment—the ‘is’ in ‘A is B’? -The grass of the battlefield was green, and the sense gave both the -grass and the greenness; but did it affirm that ‘the grass is green’? -It may be assumed that ‘grass’ and ‘green’ together form one complex -object, which is an object under space and time, and therefore of -sense. But against this the rejoinder at once is, that the sense may -indeed take in and report (so to speak) a complex object, but that in -this case the question is, not about the complex object, but about the -_complexity_ of the object. It is one thing to see green grass, and -evidently quite another to affirm the _greenness_ of the grass. The -difference is all the difference between seeing two things united, -and seeing them _as united_.... If a brute could think ‘is,’ brute -and man would be brothers. ‘Is,’ as the copula of a judgment, implies -the mental separation, and recombination of two terms that only exist -united in nature, and can therefore never have impressed the sense -except as one thing.[96] And ‘is,’ considered as a substantive verb, as -in the example ‘This man is,’ contains in itself the application of the -copula of judgment to the most elementary of all abstractions—‘thing’ -or ‘something.’ Yet if a being has the power of thinking—‘thing,’ it -has the power of transcending space and time by dividing or decomposing -the phenomenally one. Here is the point where instinct ends and reason -begins.”[97] - -It would be easy to add quotations from other writers to the same -effect as the above;[98] but these may be held sufficient to give -material for the first stage of my criticism, which is of a purely -technical character. I affirm that all writers who thus take their -stand upon the distinctively human faculty of predication are -taking their stand at the wrong place. In other words, without at -present disputing whether we have to do with a distinction of kind -or of degree, I say, and say confidently, that the distinction in -question—_i.e._ between animal and human intelligence—may be easily -proved to occur further back than at the faculty of predication, or -the forming of a proposition. The distinction occurs at the faculty of -denomination, or the bestowing of a name, known as such. “The simplest -element of thought” is _not_ a “_judgment_:” the simplest element of -thought is a _concept_. That this is the case admits of being easily -demonstrated in several different ways. - -In the first place, it is evident that there could be no judgments -without concepts, just as there could be no propositions without terms. -A judgment is the result of a comparison of concepts, and this is the -reason why it can only find expression in a proposition, which sets -forth the relation between the concepts by bringing into apposition -their corresponding terms. Judgments, therefore, are _compounds_ of -thought: the _elements_ are concepts. - -In the second place, given the power of conceiving, and the germ of -judgment is implied, though not expanded into the blossom of formal -predication. For whenever we bestow a name we are implicitly judging -that the thing to which we apply the name presents the attributes -connoted by that name, and thus we are virtually predicating the fact. -For example, when I call a man a “Negro,” the very term itself affirms -blackness as the distinctive quality of that individual—just as does -the equivalent nursery term, “Black-man.” To utter the name Negro, -therefore, or the name Black-man, is to form and pronounce at least -two judgments touching an individual object of sensuous perception—to -wit, that it is a man, and that he is black. The judgments so formed -and pronounced are doubtless not so explicit as is the case when both -subject and predicate are associated in the full proposition—“A negro -is black;” but in the single term Negro, or Black-man, both these -elements were already present, and _must_ have been so if the name were -in any degree at all conceptual—_i.e._ _denominative_ as distinguished -from _denotative_. In the illustration “Negro,” or “Black-man,” it so -happens that the connotation of the name is directly given by the -etymology of the name; but this circumstance is immaterial. Whether or -not the etymology of a connotative name happens to fit the particular -subject to which it is applied, the same kind of classificatory -judgment is required for any appropriate application of the same. If, -with Blumenbach, I am accustomed to call a negro an Ethiopian, when I -apply this name to any representative of that race, I am performing -the same mental act as my neighbour who calls him a Negro, or my child -who calls him a Black-man. If it should be said that in all such -cases the act of naming is so immediately due to association that no -demand is made upon the powers of judgment, the admission would be a -dangerous one for my opponents to make, since the same remark would -apply to the full proposition, “That man is black.” Moreover, the -objection admits of being easily disposed of by choosing instances of -naming where associations have not yet been definitively fixed. If I am -travelling in a strange continent, and amid all the unfamiliar flora -there encountered I suddenly perceive a plant which I think I know, -before I name it to my friend as that plant, I would submit it to close -scrutiny—_i.e._ carefully _judge_ its resemblances to the known or -familiar species. In short, all connotative names, when denominatively -applied, betoken acts of judgment, which differ from those concerned in -full predication only as regards the form of their expression. Or, as -Mill very tersely remarks, “whenever the names given to objects convey -any information, that is, whenever they have properly any meaning, the -meaning resides not in what they denote, but in what they connote.” -And although in his elaborate treatment of Names and Propositions -he omits expressly to notice the point now before us, it is clearly -implied in the above quotation. The point is that connotative names -(or denominative terms)[99] are often in themselves of predicative -value; and this point is clearly implied in the above quotation, -because, whenever “names given to objects convey any information,” -the information thus conveyed is virtually predicated: the “meaning” -connoted by the name is affirmed in the mere act of bestowing the -name, which thus in itself becomes a condensed proposition. “It is a -truism of psychology that the terms of a proposition, when closely -interrogated, turn out to be nothing but abbreviated judgments.”[100] - -This view of the matter, then, is the only one that can be countenanced -by psychology. It is likewise the only one that can be countenanced -by philology, or the study of language in the making. Of this fact I -will adduce abundant evidence in a subsequent chapter, where it will be -shown, as Professor Max Müller says, that “every name was originally a -proposition.” But at present I am only concerned with one of the most -elementary points of purely psychological analysis, and will therefore -postpone the independent illumination of the whole philosophy of -predication which of late years has been so splendidly furnished by the -comparative study of languages. - -From whatever point of view, therefore, we look at the matter, we -are bound to conclude, either that the term “judgment” must be -applied indifferently to the act of denominating and to the act of -predicating, or else, if it be restricted to the latter, that it must -not be regarded as “the simplest element of thought.” And thus we -are led back to the position previously gained while treating of the -Logic of Concepts. For we then found that names are the steps of the -intellectual ladder whereby we climb into higher and higher regions of -ideation; and although our progress is assisted by formal predication, -or discursive thought, this is but the muscular energy, so to speak, -which would in itself be useless but for the rungs already supplied, -and on which alone that energy can be expended. Or, to vary the -metaphor, conceptual names are the ingredients out of which is formed -the structure of propositions; and, in order that this formation should -take place, there must already be in the ingredients that element of -vitality which constitutes the _vis formativa_. Now, this element of -vitality is the element of conceptual ideation, already exhibited in -every denominative term. - -Therefore, for the sake at once of clearness and of brevity, I will -hereafter speak of predication as _material_ and _formal_. By material -predication I will mean conceptual denomination, whereby, in the mere -act of bestowing a connotative term, we are virtually predicating -of the thing thus designated some fact, quality, or relation, which -the name bestowed is intended to indicate. By formal predication I -will mean the apposition of denominative terms, with the intention -of setting forth some relation which is thus expressed as subsisting -between them. But, as already observed, I regard this distinction as -artificial. Psychologically speaking, there is no line of demarcation -between these two kinds of predication. Whether I say “Fool,” or -“Thou art a fool,” I am similarly assigning the subject of my remark -to a certain category of men: I am similarly giving expression to my -judgment with regard to the qualities presented by one particular -man. The distinction, then, between what I call material and formal -predication is merely a distinction in rhetoric: as a matter of -psychology there is no distinction at all. - -If to all this it should be objected, in accordance with the -psychological doctrines set forth by Mr. Mivart, above quoted, that -a judgment as embodied in a proposition differs from a concept -as embodied in a name in respect of the copula, and therefore in -presenting the idea of existence as existence; I answer, in the first -place, that every concept must necessarily present this idea however -_implicitly_; and, in the next place, that however _explicitly_ it -may be stated as a judgment, it is not of more conceptual value than -that of any other quality belonging to a subject. As regards the first -point, when an object, a quality, an action, &c., is named, it is -thereby abstracted as a distinct creation of thought, separated out -from other things, and made to stand before the mind as a distinct -entity (see Chapter IV.). Therefore, in the very act of naming we are -virtually predicating existence of the thing named: the power to -“think is” is the power concerned in the _formation_ of a _concept_, -not in the _apposing_ of concepts _when formed_. All that is done -in an act of such apposition is to bring together two ideas of two -things already conceived as existing: were it not so there could be -_no-things_ to compare.[101] - -And now, as regards the second point, so far is it from being true -that the predication of existence is the essential or most important -feature even of a full or formal proposition, that it is really the -least essential or least important. For existence is the category to -which everything must belong if it is to be judged about at all, and -therefore merely to judge that _A is_ and _B is_, is to form the most -barren (or least significant) judgment that can be formed with regard -to A or B; and when we bring these two judgments (concepts) together in -the proposition _A is B_, the new judgment which we make has nothing to -do with the existence either of A or of B, nor has it really anything -to do with existence as such. The existence both of A and of B has been -already pre-supposed in the two concepts, and when these two existing -things are brought into apposition, no third existence is thereby -supposed to have been created. The copula therefore really stands, not -as a symbol of _existence_, but as the symbol of _relation_, and might -just as well be replaced by any other sign (such as =), or, indeed, -be dispensed with altogether. “As we use the verb _is_, so the Latins -use their verb _est_ and the Greeks their [Greek: esti] through all -its declensions. Whether all other nations of the world have in their -several languages a word that answereth to it, or not, I cannot tell; -but I am sure they have no need of it. For the placing of two names in -order [_i.e._ in _apposition_] may serve to signify their consequence, -if it were the custom, as well as the words _is_, _to be_, and the -like. And if it were so, that there were a language without any verb -answering to _est_, or _is_, or _be_, yet the men that used it would be -not a jot the less capable of inferring, concluding, and of all kind -of reasoning than were the Greeks and Latins.” This shrewd analysis by -Hobbes is justly said by Mill to be “the only analysis of a proposition -which is rigorously true of all propositions without exception;” and -Professor Max Müller says of it, “Hobbes, though utterly ignorant of -the historical antecedents of language, agrees with us in the most -remarkable manner.”[102] - -Thus, then, upon the whole, and without further treatment, it may be -concluded that whether we look to its simplest manifestations or to -its most complex, we must alike conclude that it is the faculty of -conception, not that of judgment—the faculty of denomination, not that -of predication—which we have to regard as “the simplest element of -thought.” Of course, if it were said that these two faculties are one -in kind—that in order to conceive we must judge, and in order to name -we must predicate—I should have no objection to offer. All I am at -present engaged upon is to make it clear that the distinction between -man and brute in respect of the Logos must be drawn at the place where -this distinction first obtains; and this place is where judgment is -concerned with conception, or with the bestowing of names in the sense -previously explained as _denominative_. The subsequent working up of -names into propositions is merely a further exhibition of the self-same -faculty. It is as true of judgment when displayed in denomination -as it is of judgment when displayed in predication, that “it is not -itself a modified imagination, because the imaginations which may -give rise to it persist unmodified in the mind side by side with -it.” For, as we have seen, the act of denominating (as distinguished -from denotating) is in and of itself an act of predicating. When a -naturalist bestows a name upon a new species of plant or animal, he -has _judged_ a resemblance and _predicates_ a fact—_i.e._ that the -hitherto unnamed form belongs to certain _genus_ or _kind_. And so it -is with all other names when conceptually bestowed, because everywhere -such names are expressions of conceptual _classification_—the bringing -together of like things, or the separation of unlike. In short, all -names which present any conceptual meaning are in themselves condensed -propositions, or “material predications;” and only as such can they -afterwards become _terms_, _i.e._ constitute the essential elements of -any more extended proposition, or “formal predication.” Therefore it -is the faculty of naming wherein is first displayed—and, according to -the doctrine of Nominalism, _whereby is first attained_—that great and -distinctive characteristic of the human mind which Mr. Mivart and those -who think with him have in view; and, unless we espouse the doctrine of -Realism—which neither these nor any other psychologists with whom I -have to do are likely nowadays to countenance,—it is plain that “the -simplest element of thought” is a concept. - - * * * * * - -If I do not apologize for having occupied so much space over so obvious -a point, it is only because I believe that any one who reads these -pages will sympathize with my desire to avoid ambiguity, and thus to -reduce the question before us to its naked reality. So far, it will -be observed, this question has not been touched. I am not disputing -that an immense and an extraordinary distinction obtains, and I do not -anticipate that either Mr. Mivart or any one else will take exception -to this preliminary clearing of the ground, which has been necessitated -only on account of my opponents having been careless enough to -represent the Proposition as the simplest exhibition of the Logos. But -now the time has arrived when we must tackle the distinction in serious -earnest. - -Wherein does this distinction truly consist? It consists, as I believe -all my opponents will allow, in the power which the human being -displays of _objectifying ideas_, or of setting one state of mind -before another state, and contemplating the relation between them. -The power to “think is”—or, as I should prefer to state it, the -power to think at all—_is the power which is given by introspective -reflection in the light of self-consciousness_. It is because the -human mind is able, so to speak, to stand outside of itself, and thus -to constitute its own ideas the subject-matter of its own thought, -that it is capable of judgment in the technical sense above explained, -whether in the act of conception or in that of predication. For thus -it is that these ideas are enabled “to exist _beside_ the judgment, -not _in_ it;” thus it is that they may themselves become objects of -thought. We have no evidence to show that any animal is capable of -thus objectifying its own ideas; and, therefore, we have no evidence -that any animal is capable of judgment. Indeed I will go further, and -affirm that we have the best evidence which is derivable from what are -necessarily ejective sources, to prove that no animal _can possibly_ -attain to these excellencies of subjective life. This evidence will -gradually unfold itself as we proceed, so at present it is enough to -say, in general terms, that it consists in a most cogent proof of the -absence in brutes of the needful _conditions_ to the occurrence of -these excellencies as they obtain in themselves. From which it follows -that the great distinction between the brute and the man really lies -behind the faculties both of conception and predication: it resides -in the conditions to the occurrence of either. What these conditions -are I will consider later on. Meanwhile, and in order that we may be -perfectly clear about the all-important distinction which is before us, -I will re-state it in other terms. - -What is the difference between a recept and a concept? I cannot -answer this question more clearly or concisely than in the words of -the writer in the _Dublin Review_ before quoted. “The difference -is all the difference between seeing two things united, and seeing -them _as united_.” The difference is all the difference between -perceiving relations, and perceiving the relations _as related_, or -between cognizing a truth, and recognizing that truth _as true_. The -diving bird, which avoids a rock and fearlessly plunges into the sea, -unquestionably displays a receptual knowledge of certain “things,” -“relations,” and “truths;” but it does not know any of them _as such_: -although it knows them, it does not _know that it knows them_: however -well it knows them, it does not _think_ them, or regard the things, -the relations, and the truths which it perceives as _themselves the -objects of perception_. Now, over and above this merely receptual -knowledge, man displays conceptual, which means that he _is_ able to do -all these things that the bird cannot do: in other words, he is able -to set before his mind all the recepts which he has in common with the -bird, to think about them _as_ recepts, and by the mere fact, or in the -very act of so doing, to convert them into concepts. Concepts, then, -differ from recepts in that they are recepts which have themselves -become objects of knowledge, and the condition to their taking on -this important character is the presence of self-consciousness in the -percipient mind.[103] - -I have twice stated the distinction as clearly as I am able; but, in -order to do it the fullest justice, I will now render it a third time -in the words of Mr. Mivart—some of whose terms I have borrowed in -the above paragraph, and therefore need not now repeat. He begins by -conveying the distinction as it was stated by Buffon, thus:— - -“Far from denying feelings to animals, I concede to them everything -except thought and reflection.... They have sensations, but no -faculty of comparing them with one another, that is to say they have -not the power which produces ideas”—_i.e._ products of reflection. -Then, after alluding to Buffon’s views on the distinction between -“automatic memory” and “intellectual memory” (_i.e._ the distinction -which I have recognized in the Diagram attached to my previous work by -calling the former “memory” and the latter “recollection”), Mr. Mivart -adds:—“The distinction is one quite easy to perceive. That we have -automatic memory, such as animals have, is obvious: but the presence -of intellectual memory may be made evident by searching our minds (so -to speak) for something which we have fully remembered before, and -thus intellectually remember to have known, though we cannot now bring -it before the imagination. And as with memory, so with other of our -mental powers, we may, I think, distinguish between a higher and a -lower faculty of each; between our higher, self-conscious, reflective -mental acts—the acts of our intellectual faculty—and those of our -merely sensitive power. This distinction I believe to be one of the -most fundamental of all the distinctions of biology, and to be one -the apprehension of which is a necessary preliminary to a successful -investigation of animal psychology.”[104] - -Were it necessary, I could quote from his work, entitled _Lessons from -Nature_, sundry further passages expressing the same distinction in -other words; but I have already been careful, even to redundancy, in -presenting this distinction, not only because it is the distinction -on which Mr. Mivart rests his whole argument for the separation of -man from the rest of the animal kingdom as a being unique in kind; -but still more because it is, as he is careful to point out, the one -real distinction which has hitherto always been drawn by philosophers -since the time of Aristotle. And, as I have already observed, it is -a distinction which I myself fully recognize, and believe to be the -most important of all distinctions in psychology. The only point of -difference, therefore, between my opinions and those—I will not say of -Mr. Mivart, but—of any other or possible opponent who understands the -psychology of this subject, is on the question whether, in view of the -light which has now been shed on psychology by the theory of evolution, -this important distinction is to be regarded as one of degree or as -one of kind. I shall now proceed to unfold the reasons which lead me -to differ on this point from Mr. Mivart, and so from all the still -extensive school of which he is, in my opinion, much the ablest -spokesman. - - * * * * * - -We have seen that the distinction in question consists in the presence -or absence of the faculty now fully explained, of reflective thought, -and that of this faculty the simplest manifestation is, as alleged -by my opponents, that which is afforded by “judgment.” But we have -also seen that this faculty of judgment does not first appear in -predication, unless we extend the term so as to embrace all acts -of denomination. In other words, we have seen that judgment first -arises with conception—and necessarily so, seeing that neither of -these things can occur without the other, but both arise as direct -exhibitions of that faculty of self-conscious or reflective thought of -which they are everywhere the immediate expression. I will, therefore, -begin with a careful analysis of conceptual judgment. - -We must first recur to the distinctions set forth at the close of the -last chapter, where it was shown that, without any prejudice to the -question touching the distinction between man and brute, there are five -different stages of intentional sign-making to be recognized—namely, -the indicative, the denotative, the connotative, the denominative, and -the predicative. From what has now been said regarding the essentially -predicative nature of all conceptual names, we may disregard the last -of these distinctions, and consider the denominative phase of language -as psychologically identical with the predicative. Similarly, we may -now neglect the indicative phase, as one which bears no relation to the -matters at present before us. Thus we have to fasten attention only -upon the differences between the denotative, the connotative, and the -denominative phases of language. This has already been done in general -terms; but must now be done in more detail. And for the sake of being -clear, even at the risk of being tedious, I will begin by repeating the -important distinctions already explained. - -When a parrot calls a dog _Bow-wow_ (as a parrot, like a child, may -easily be taught to do), the parrot may be said, in one sense of -the word, to be _naming_ the dog; but it is not _predicating_ any -characters as belonging to a dog, or performing any act of _judgment_ -with regard to a dog. Although the bird may never (or but rarely) utter -the name save when it sees a dog, this fact is attributable to the -laws of association acting only in the receptual sphere: it furnishes -no shadow of a reason for supposing that the bird _thinks_ about a -dog _as_ a dog, or sets the concept Dog before its mind as a separate -object of thought. Therefore, all my opponents must allow that in one -sense of the word there may be names without concepts: whether as -gestures or as words (vocal gestures), there may be signs of things -without these signs presenting any vestige of predicative value. Names -of this kind I have called _denotative_: they are marks affixed to -objects, qualities, actions, &c., by receptual association alone. - -Next, when a denotative name has been formed and applied as the mark of -one thing, its use may be extended to denote also another thing, which -is seen to belong to the same class or kind. When denotative names -are thus extended, they become what I have called _connotative_. The -degree to which such classificatory extension of a denotative name may -take place depends, of course, on the degree in which the mind is able -to take cognizance of resemblances or analogies. Now, these degrees -are as various as are the degrees of intelligence itself. Long before -the differential engine of Conception has come to the assistance of -Mind, both animals and human beings (as previously shown) are able to -go a long way in the distinguishing of resemblances, or analogies, by -means of receptual ideation alone. When such receptual discrimination -is expressed by the corresponding extension of denotative names, the -degree of connotation which such names may thus acquire depends upon -the degree of this receptual discrimination. Even my parrot was able to -extend its denotative name for a particular dog to any other dog which -it happened to see—thus precisely resembling my child, who extended -its first denotative word _Star_ to a candle. Connotation, then, begins -in the purely receptual sphere of ideation; and although in man it is -afterwards carried up into the conceptual sphere, it is obviously most -imperative for the purposes of this analysis to draw a distinction -between connotation as receptual and as conceptual. - -This distinction I have drawn by assigning the word _denomination_ -to all connotation which is of a truly conceptual nature—or to the -bestowing of names _consciously recognized as such_. And I have just -shown that when connotation is thus denominative or conceptual, it is -psychologically the same as predication. Therefore it is only in this -denominative sense of the word, or in cases where conceptual ideation -is concerned, that an act of naming involves an act of judgment, -strictly so called. - -Such being the psychological standing of the matter, it is evident -that the whole question before us is narrowed down to a clearing up -of the relations that obtain between connotation as receptual and -conceptual—or between connotation, that is, and connotation that is -not, denominative. To do this I will begin by quoting an instance of -un-denominative or receptual connotation in the case of a young child. - -“There is this peculiar to man—the sound which has been associated in -his case with the perception of some particular individual is called up -again, not only at the sight of absolutely similar individuals, but -also by the presence of individuals strikingly different, though in -some respects comprised in the same class. In other words, analogies -which do not strike animals strike men. The child says _Bow-wow_, -first to the house-dog, then, after a little, he says _Bow-wow_ to -the terriers, mastiffs, and Newfoundlands he sees in the street. A -little later he does what an animal never does, he says _Bow-wow_ to a -paste-board dog which barks when squeezed, then to a paste-board dog -which does not bark, but runs on wheels, then to the silent motionless -bronze dog which ornaments the drawing-room, then to his little cousin -who runs about the room on all fours, then, at last, to a picture -representing a dog.”[105] - -Now, in this small but typical history we have a clear exhibition, in a -simple form, of the development of a connotative name within the purely -receptual sphere. At first the word _Bow-wow_ was merely a denotative -name—or a mark affixed to a particular object of perception. But -when the child’s mind took cognizance of the resemblances between -the house-dog, terriers, mastiffs, and Newfoundlands, it expressed -the fact by extending the name _Bow-wow_ to all these dogs. The -name, from being particular, thus became generic, or indicative of -_resemblances_; and, therefore, from being merely denotative, became -truly connotative: it now served to express _common attributes_. Next, -this receptual connotation of the name was still further widened, so -as to include—or to signify—the resemblances between dogs and their -images, pictures, &c. Now, in these several and successive acts of -connotative naming, the child was obviously advancing to higher and -higher levels of receptual classification; but, no less obviously, it -would be absurd to suppose that the child was thus raising the name -_Bow-wow_ to any _conceptual_ value. All that any child in such a case -is doing is to extend its receptual appreciation of resemblance through -widening circles of generic grouping, and correspondingly to extend -the receptual connotation of a denotative name. In order to do this -(within the limits that we are now considering), there is no need for -any introspective regarding of the name as a name: there is no need to -contemplate the widening connotation of the name: there is no need to -_judge_, to _define_, to _denominate_. Such classification as is here -effected can be effected within the region of receptual consciousness -alone (as we well know from the analogous case of the parrot, and the -“practical inferences” of the lower animals generally); therefore, if -the denotative name originally assigned to a particular dog admitted -of being so assigned as merely the mark of that particular recept, -there is no reason to suppose that its subsequent extension to the -more generic recepts afterwards experienced involves any demand upon -the conceptual faculty, or implies that the child could only extend -this name from a house-dog to a terrier by first performing an act of -introspective thought—which, indeed, as we shall see later on, it is -demonstrably impossible that a child of this age can be able to do. - -Nevertheless, it is evident that already the child has done more -than the parrot. For a parrot will never extend its denotative name -of a particular dog to the picture, or even to the image of a dog. -The utmost that a parrot will do is to extend the denotative name -from one particular dog to another particular dog, which, however, -may differ considerably from the former as to size, colour, and -general appearance. Still, I presume, no one will maintain that thus -far there is the faintest evidence of a difference of kind between -the connotative faculty of the bird and that of the child. All that -these facts can be held to show is that—in the words already quoted -from M. Taine while narrating these facts—“analogies which do not -strike animals strike men.” Or, in my own phraseology, the receptual -faculties of a parrot do not go further than the receptual faculties -of a very young child: consequently, the denotative name in the -case of the parrot only undergoes the first step in the process of -receptual extension—namely, from a house-dog to a terrier, a setter, -a mastiff, a Newfoundland, &c. But in the case of the child, _after -having reached this stage_, the process of extension continues, so as -to embrace images, and eventually pictures of dogs. This difference, -however, only shows an advance in the merely receptual faculties: -does not suggest that in order to carry the extension of the name -through these second and third stages, demand has yet been made on the -distinctively human powers of conceptual thought—any more than such -powers were required to carry it through the first stage in the case of -the parrot. - -Hence we see again that the distinction already drawn between -denotative and connotative names is not co-extensive with the -distinction between ideas as receptual and conceptual. Or, in other -words, names may be in some measure connotative even in the absence -of self-consciousness. For if we say that a child is connoting -resemblances when it extends the name _Bow-wow_ from a particular -dog to dogs in general, clearly we must say the same thing of a -parrot when we find that thus far it goes with the child. Therefore -it is that I have distinguished between connotation as receptual and -conceptual—_i.e._ by calling the latter _denomination_. Receptual -connotation represents a higher level of ideational faculty than -mere denotation; but a lower level than conceptual connotation, or -denomination. Moreover, receptual connotation admits of many degrees -before we can discern the smallest reason for supposing that it is -even in the lowest degree conceptual. Connotation of all degrees -depending on perceptions of resemblances or analogies, the higher the -receptual life, and therefore the greater the aptitude of receptual -classification, the more will such classification become reflected in -connotative expression. Therefore it is that the child will not only -surpass the parrot in its receptual connotation from dogs to pictures -of dogs; but, as we shall afterwards see, will go much further even -than this before it gives any signs at all of conceptual connotation, -or true denomination. Thus we see that between the most rudimentary -receptual connotation which a very young child shares with a parrot, -and the fully conceptual connotation which it subsequently attains, -there is a large intervening province due to the acquisition of a -higher receptual life. Or, to put the same thing in other words, there -is a large tract of ideation lying between the highest receptual -life of a brute and the lowest conceptual life of a man: this tract -is occupied by the growing child from the time at which its ideation -surpasses that of the brute, until it begins to attain the faculty -of self-conscious reflection. This intervening tract of ideation, -therefore, may be termed “higher receptual,” in contradistinction to -the lower receptual ideation which a younger child shares with the -lower animals. - -At this point I must ask the reader carefully to fasten in his mind -these various distinctions. Nor will it be difficult to do so after a -small amount of attention. It will be remembered that in Chapter IV. I -instituted a distinction between concepts as higher and lower, which -was methodically similar to that which I have now to institute between -recepts. A “lower concept” was defined to be nothing more than a “named -recept,”[106] while a “higher concept” was understood to be one that is -“compounded of other concepts”—_i.e._ the named result of a grouping -of concepts, as when we speak of the “mechanical equivalent of heat.” -So that altogether we have four stages of ideation to recognize, each -of which occupies an immensely large territory of mind. These four -stages I will present in serial order. - -(1) _Lower Recepts_, comprising the mental life of all the lower -animals, and so including such powers of receptual connotation as a -child when first emerging from infancy shares with a parrot. - -(2) _Higher Recepts_, comprising all the extensive tract of ideation -that belongs to a child between the time when its powers of receptual -connotation first surpass those of a parrot, up to the age at which -connotation as merely denotative begins to become also denominative. - -(3) _Lower Concepts_, comprising the province of conceptual ideation -where this first emerges from the higher receptual, up to the point -where denominative connotation has to do, not merely with the naming of -recepts, but also with that of associated concepts. - -(4) _Higher Concepts_, comprising all the further excellencies of human -thought. - -Higher Recepts, then, are what may be conveniently termed -Pre-concepts:[107] they occupy the interval between the receptual -life of brute and the earliest dawn of the conceptual life of man. A -pre-concept, therefore, is that kind of higher recept which is not to -be met with in any brute; but which occurs in the human being after -surpassing the brute and before attaining self-consciousness. Be it -observed that in thus coining the words higher recepts or pre-concepts, -I am not in any way prejudicing the case of my opponents; I am merely -marking off a certain territory of ideation which has now for the -first time been indicated. Of course my object eventually is to show -that in the history of a growing child, just as sensations give rise -to percepts, and percepts to recepts (as they do among animals), so do -recepts give rise to pre-concepts, pre-concepts to concepts, concepts -to propositions, and propositions to syllogisms. But in now supplying -this intermediate link of pre-concepts I am not in any way pre-judging -the issue: I am merely marking out the ground for discussion. No one of -my opponents can dispute my facts, which are too obvious to admit of -question. Therefore, if they object to my classification of them so far -as the novel division of pre-concepts is concerned, it must be because -they think that by instituting this division I am surreptitiously -bringing the mind of a child nearer to that of an animal than they deem -altogether safe. What, then, I ask, would they have me do? If I fail -to institute this division, I should have to prejudice the question -indeed. Either there is some distinction between the naming powers of -a parrot and those of a young child, or else there is not. If there is -no distinction, so much the better for the purposes of my argument. -But I allow that there is a distinction, and I draw it at the first -place where it can possibly be said that the intelligence of a child -differs in any way at all from that of a parrot—_i.e._ where the -naming powers of a child demonstrably excel those of a parrot, or any -other brute. If this place happens to be before the rise of conceptual -powers, I am not responsible for the fact; nor in stating it am I at -all disparaging the position of any opponent who takes his stand upon -these powers as distinctive of man. If his position were worth anything -before, it cannot be affected by my drawing attention to the fact that, -while a parrot will extend its denotative name of a dog from a terrier -to a setter, it will not follow a child any further in the process of -receptual connotation. - -Or, to put it in another way, when the child says _Bow-wow_ to a -setter, after having learnt this name for a terrier, it is either -judging a resemblance and predicating a fact, or else it is doing -neither of these things. If my opponents elect to say that the child is -doing both these things, there is an end of the only issue between us; -for in that case a parrot also is able both to judge and to predicate. -On the other hand, if my opponents adopt the wiser course, and accept -my distinction between names as receptual and conceptual, they must -also follow me in recognizing the border-land of pre-concepts as lying -between the recepts of a bird and the concepts of a man—_i.e._ the -territory which is first occupied by the higher receptual life of a -child before this passes into the conceptual life of a man,—for that -such a border-land does exist I will prove still more incontestably -later on. There is, then, as a matter of observable fact, a territory -of ideation which separates the highest recepts of a brute from the -lowest concepts of a human being; and all that my term pre-conception -is designed to do is to name this intervening territory. - -Now, if this is the case with regard to naming, clearly it must also be -the case with regard to judging: if there is a stage of pre-conception, -there must also be a stage of pre-judgment. For we have seen that it is -of the essence of a judgment that it should be concerned with concepts: -if the mind be concerned merely with recepts, no act of true judgment -can be said to have been performed. When a child says _Bow-wow_ to -the picture of a dog, no one can maintain that he is actually judging -the resemblance of the picture to a dog, unless it be supposed that -for this act of receptual classification distinctively human powers -of conceptual thought are required. But, as just shown, no opponent -of mine can afford to adopt this supposition, because behind the case -of the child there stands that of the parrot. True, the parrot does -not proceed in its receptual classification further than to extend its -name for a particular dog to other living dogs; but if any one were -foolish enough to stake his whole argument on so slender a distinction -as this—to maintain that at the place where the connotation of a child -first surpasses that of a parrot we have evidence of a psychological -distinction of kind, _on the sole ground that the child has begun to -surpass the parrot_—it would be enough for me to remark that not -_every_ parrot will thus extend its denotative sign from one dog -to another of greatly unlike appearance. Different birds display -different degrees of intelligence in this respect. Most of them will -say _Bow-wow_, will bark, or utter any other denotative sign which they -may have learnt or invented, when they see dogs more or less resembling -the one to which the denotative sign was originally applied; but it -is not every parrot which will thus extend the sign from a terrier to -a mastiff or a Newfoundland. Therefore, if any one were to maintain -that the difference between the intelligence which can discern, and -one which cannot discern, the likeness of a dog in the image or the -picture of a dog, is a difference of kind, consistency should lead -him to draw a similar distinction between the intelligence which can -discern, and one which cannot discern, the likeness of a terrier to a -mastiff. But, if so, the intelligence of one parrot would be different -in kind from that of another parrot; and the child’s intelligence -at one age would differ in kind from the intelligence of that same -child when a week or two older—both of which statements would be -manifestly absurd. The truth can only be that up to the point where -the intelligence of the child surpasses that of the bird they are both -in the receptual stage of sign-making; and that the only reason why -the child does surpass the bird is not, in the first instance, because -the child there suddenly attains the power of conceptual ideation, but -because it gradually attains a higher level of receptual ideation. This -admits of direct proof from the fact that animals more intelligent -than parrots are unquestionably able to recognize sculptured and even -pictorial representations: hence there can be no doubt that if talking -birds had attained a similar level of intelligence—or if the other and -more intelligent animals had been able, like the talking birds, to use -denotative signs,—the child would not have parted company with the -brute at quite so early a stage of receptual nomenclature.[108] - -What, then, are we to say about the faculty of judgment in relation to -these three stages of ideation—namely, the receptual, pre-conceptual, -and conceptual? We can only institute the parallel and consequent -distinction between judgment as receptual, pre-conceptual, and -conceptual.[109] As now so often stated, the distinguishing features of -a judgment as fully displayed in any act of formal predication, are the -bringing together in self-conscious thought of two concepts, and the -distinguishing of some relation between them as such. Therefore we do -not say that a brute judges when, without any self-conscious thought, -it brings together certain reminiscences of its past experience in the -form of recepts, and translates for us the results of its ideation -by the performance of what Mr. Mivart calls “practical inferences.” -Therefore, also, if a brute which is able to name each of two recepts -separately (as is done by a talking bird), were to name the two recepts -simultaneously when thus combined in an act of “practical inference,” -although there would then be the outward semblance of a proposition, -we should not be strictly right in calling it a proposition. It would, -indeed, be the statement of a truth _perceived_; but not the statement -of a truth perceived _as true_.[110] - -Now, if all this be admitted in the case of a brute—as it must be -by any one who takes his stand on the faculty of true or conceptual -judgment,—obviously it must also be admitted in the case of the -growing child. In other words, if it can be proved that a child is able -to state a truth before it can state a truth as true, it is thereby -proved that in the psychological history of every human being there -is first the incompleted kind of judgment required for dealing with -receptual knowledge, and so for stating truths perceived, and next -the completed judgment, which deals with conceptual knowledge, and so -is enabled to state truths perceived as true. Of course the condition -to the raising of this lower kind of judgment (if for convenience -we agree so to term it) into the higher, is given by the advent of -self-consciousness; and therefore the place where _statement_ of truth -passes into _predication_ of truth must be determined by the place -at which this kind of consciousness first supervenes. Where it does -first supervene we shall presently have to consider. Meanwhile I am -but endeavouring to make clear the fact that, unless my opponents -abandon their position altogether, they must allow that there is -_some_ difference to be recognized between the connotative powers of a -parrot and the connotative powers of a man. But if they do allow this, -they must further allow that between the place where the connotative -powers of a child first surpass those of a parrot, and the place where -those powers first become truly conceptual, there is a large tract of -ideation which it is impossible to ignore. In order, therefore, not -to prejudice the question before us, I have thus far confined myself -to a mere designation of these great and obvious distinctions. But -seeing that even this preliminary step has necessitated a great deal of -explanation, I feel it may conduce to clearness if I end the present -chapter with a tabular statement of the sundry distinctions in question. - -By _receptual judgments_ I will understand the same order of ideation -as Mr. Mivart expresses by his term “practical inferences of brutes,” -instances of which have already been given in Chapter III. - -By _pre-conceptual judgments_ I will understand those acts of virtual -or rudimentary judgment which are performed by children subsequent to -the “practical inferences” which they share with brutes, but prior to -the advent of self-conscious reflection. These pre-conceptual judgments -may be expressed either by gestures, connotative classifications, or -by both combined. Some instances of them have already been given in -the present chapter: further and better instances will be given in the -chapters which are to follow. - -By _conceptual judgments_ I will understand full and complete judgments -in the ordinary acceptation of this term. - -Receptual judgment, then, has to do with recepts; pre-conceptual -judgment with pre-concepts; and true judgments with true concepts. Or, -conversely stated, receptual knowledge leads to receptual judgment -(_e.g._ when a sea-bird dives into water but alights upon land): -pre-conceptual knowledge leads to pre-conceptual judgment in the -statement of such knowledge (_e.g._ when a child, by extending the name -of a dog to the picture of a dog, virtually affirms, though it does not -conceive, the resemblance which it perceives): and, lastly, conceptual -knowledge leads to conceptual or veritable judgment, in the statement -of such knowledge known as knowledge (_e.g._ when, in virtue of his -powers of reflective thought, a man not only states a truth, but states -that truth as true). - - * * * * * - -Thus far I doubt whether my opponents will find it easy to meet me. -They may, of course, cavil at some or all of the above distinctions; -but, if so, it is for them to show cause for complaint. They have -raised objections to the theory of evolution on purely psychological -grounds. I meet their objections upon these their own grounds, and -therefore the only way in which they can answer me is by showing -that there is something wrong in my psychological analysis. This I -fearlessly invite them to do. For all the distinctions which I have -made I have made out of consideration to the exigencies of their -argument. Although these distinctions may appear somewhat bewilderingly -numerous, I do not anticipate that any competent psychologist will -complain of them on account of their having been over-finely drawn. -For each of them marks off an important territory of ideation, and -all the territories so marked off must be separately noted, if the -alleged distinction of kind between one and another is to be seriously -investigated. In his essays upon the theory of evolution, Mr. Mivart -not unfrequently complains of the disregard of psychological analysis -which is betokened by any expression of opinion to the effect, that -as between one great territory of ideation and another there is only -a difference of degree. But surely this complaint comes with an ill -grace from a writer who bases an opposite opinion upon a precisely -similar neglect—or upon a bare statement of the greatest and most -obvious of all the distinctions in psychology, without so much as any -attempt to analyze it. Therefore, if my own attempt to do this has -erred on the side of overelaboration, it has done so only on account -of my desire to do full justice to the opposite side. In the result, -I claim to have shown that if it is possible to suggest a difference -of kind between any of the levels of ideation which have now been -defined, this can only be done at the last of them—or where the advent -of self-consciousness enables a mind, not only to _know_, but to _know -that it knows_; not only to _receive_ knowledge, but also to _conceive_ -it; not only to _connotate_, but also to _denominate_; not only to -_state a truth_, but also to state that truth _as true_. The question, -therefore, which now lies before us is that as to the nature of this -self-consciousness—or, more accurately, whether the great and peculiar -distinction which this attribute confers upon the human intellect is -to be regarded as a distinction of degree only, or as a distinction of -kind. To answer this question we must first investigate the rise of -self-consciousness in the only place where its rise can be observed, -namely, in the psychogenesis of a child.[111] - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. - - -My contention in this chapter will be that, given the protoplasm -of the sign-making faculty so far organized as to have reached the -denotative stage; and given also the protoplasm of judgment so far -organized as to have reached the stage of stating a truth, without the -mind being yet sufficiently developed to be conscious of itself as an -object of thought, and therefore not yet able to state to itself a -truth as true; by a confluence of these two protoplasmic elements an -act of fertilization is performed, such that the subsequent processes -of mental organization proceed apace, and soon reach the stage of -differentiation between subject and object. - -And here, to avoid misapprehension, I may as well make it clear at the -outset that in all which is to follow I am in no way concerned with -the philosophy of this change, but only with its history. On the side -of its philosophy no one can have a deeper respect for the problem -of self-consciousness than I have; for no one can be more profoundly -convinced than I am that the problem on this side does not admit of -solution. In other words, so far as this aspect of the matter is -concerned, I am in complete agreement with the most advanced idealist; -and hold that in the datum of self-consciousness we each of us possess, -not merely our only ultimate knowledge, or that which only is “real -in its own right,” but likewise the mode of existence which alone the -human mind is capable of conceiving as existence, and therefore the -_conditio sine quâ non_ to the possibility of an external world. -With this aspect of the question, however, I am in no way concerned. -Just as the functions of an embryologist are confined to tracing the -mere history of developmental changes of living structure, and just -as he is thus as far as ever from throwing any light upon the deeper -questions of the how and the why of life; so in seeking to indicate -the steps whereby self-consciousness has arisen from the lower stages -of mental structure, I am as far as any one can be from throwing light -upon the intrinsic nature of that the probable genesis of which I am -endeavouring to trace. It is no less true to-day than it was in the -time of Soloman, that “as thou knowest not how the bones do grow in the -womb of her that is with child, thou knowest not what is the way of the -spirit.” - - * * * * * - -If we are agreed that it is only in man that self-consciousness is to -be found at all, it follows that only to man can we look for any facts -bearing upon the question of its development. And inasmuch as it is -only during the first years of infancy that a normal human being is -destitute of self-consciousness, the statement just made implies that -only in infant psychology need we seek for the facts of which we are -in search. Further, as I maintain that self-consciousness arises out -of an admixture of the protoplasm of judgment with the protoplasm of -sign-making (according to the signification of these terms as already -explained), I have now to make good this opinion upon the basis of -facts drawn from the study of infant psychology. - -Nevertheless, before I proceed to the heart of the subject, I think it -will be convenient to consider those faculties of mind which, occurring -both in the infant and in the animal, in the former case precede the -advent of self-consciousness, and, according to my view, prepare the -way for it. - -It will, I suppose, on all hands be admitted that self-consciousness -consists in paying the same kind of attention to internal or psychical -processes as is habitually paid to external or physical processes—a -bringing to bear upon subjective phenomena the same powers of -perception as are brought to bear upon the objective. The degrees in -which such attention may be yielded are, of course, as various in the -one case as in the other; but this does not affect my psychological -definition of self-consciousness. - -Again, I suppose it will be further admitted that in the mind of -animals and in the mind of infants there is a world of images -standing as signs of outward objects; and that the only reason why -these images are not attended to unless called up by the sensuous -associations supplied by their corresponding objects, is because the -mind is not yet able to leave the ground of such association, so as -to move through the higher and more tenuous medium of introspective -thought.[112] Nevertheless, this image world assuredly displays -an internal activity which is not wholly dependent on sensuous -associations supplied from without. That is to say, one image suggests -another, this another, and so on—although, as I have just conceded, -this cannot be due to successive acts of inward attention, or of the -self-conscious contemplation of images known as such. Nevertheless, -that an internal—though unintentional—play of ideation takes place in -the minds of brutes, without the necessity of immediate associations -supplied from present objects of sense, admits of being amply proved -from the phenomena of dreaming, hallucination, home-sickness, pining -for absent friends, &c., which, as I have fully shown in my previous -work, can only be explained by recognizing such a play of inward -ideation.[113] Now, I hold it of importance to note that such an -internal play of ideation is thus possible even in the absence of -self-consciousness, because many writers have assumed, without any -justification, that unless ideas are intentionally contemplated -as such, they must be wholly dependent for their occurrence upon -associations supplied by present objects of sense. Of course I do not -doubt that an agent who is capable of intentionally making one idea -stand as the object of another, is likewise capable of going very -much further than a brute in the way of causing one idea to start from -another irrespective of immediate stimulation from without. My point -here is merely to remark that the ideation of brutes is not wholly -dependent on such stimulation; but is capable, in a certain humble -degree, of forming independent chains of its own. - -The next thing which I desire to be remembered in connection with -the ideation of brutes is, that it is not restricted to the mere -reproduction in memory of particular objects of sensuous impressions; -but, as we have so fully seen in Chapter III., admits of undergoing -that amount of mental elaboration which belongs to what I have termed -recepts. - -Furthermore, the foundations of self-consciousness are largely laid in -the fact that an organism is one connected whole; all the parts are -mutually related in the unity of individual sensibility. Every stimulus -supplied from without, every movement originating from within, carries -with it the character of belonging to that which feels and moves. Hence -a brute, like a young child, has learnt to distinguish its own members, -and likewise its whole body, from all other objects; it knows how to -avoid sources of pain, how to seek those of pleasure; and it also knows -that particular movements follow from particular volitions, while in -connection with such movements it constantly experiences the same -muscular sensations. Of course such knowledge and such experience all -belong to the receptual order; but this does not hinder that they play -a most important part in laying the foundations of a consciousness of -individuality.[114] - -Lastly, and I believe of still more importance in the present -connection than any of the above-named antecedents, a large -proportional number of the recepts of a brute have reference, not to -objects of sense, or even to muscular sensations, but to the _mental -states of other animals_. That is to say, the logic of recepts, even -in brutes, is sufficient to enable the mind to establish true analogies -between its own states (although these are not yet the objects of -separate attention, or of what may be termed subjective knowledge), -and the corresponding states of other minds. I need not dwell upon -this point, because I take it to be a matter of general observation -that animals habitually and accurately interpret the mental states -of other animals, while they also well know that other animals are -able similarly to interpret _theirs_—as is best proved by their -practising the arts of cunning, concealment, hypocrisy, &c.[115] From -which considerations we reach the general conclusion, that intelligent -animals recognize a world of ejects as well as a world of objects: -mental existence is known to them ejectively, though, as may be -allowed, never _thought upon_ subjectively.[116] - -It is of importance further to observe that at this stage of mental -evolution the individual—whether an animal or an infant—so far -realizes its own individuality as to be informed by the logic of -recepts that it is _one of a kind_. I do not mean that at this -stage the individual realizes its own or any other individuality -as such; but merely that it recognizes the fact of its being one -among a number of similar though distinct forms of life. Alike in -conflict, rivalry, sense of liability to punishment or vengeance, -&c., the truth is continually being borne in upon the mind of an -animal that it is a separate individuality; and this though it be -conceded that the animal is never able, even in the most shadowy -manner, to think about itself as such. In this way there arises a sort -of “outward self-consciousness,” which differs from true or inward -self-consciousness only in the absence of any attention being directed -upon the inward mental states as such. This outward self-consciousness -is known to us all, even in adult life—it being but comparatively -seldom that we pause in our daily activities to contemplate the mental -processes of which these activities are the expression. - -Now, if these things are so, we encounter the necessity of drawing -the same distinction in our analysis of self-consciousness, as we -have had to draw in our previous analyses of all the other faculties -of mind: there is a self-consciousness that is receptual, and a -self-consciousness that is conceptual. No doubt it is to the latter -kind of self-consciousness alone that the term is strictly applicable, -just as it is to conceptual naming or to conceptual predicating -alone that the word “judgment” is strictly applicable. Nevertheless, -here, as before, we must not ignore an important territory of mind -only because it has hitherto remained uncharted.[117] Receptual or -outward self-consciousness, then, is the practical recognition of -self as an active and a feeling agent; while conceptual or inward -self-consciousness is the introspective recognition of self as an -object of knowledge, and, therefore, as a subject. Hence, the one -form of self-consciousness differs from the other in that it is only -objective and never subjective.[118] - -I take it, then, as established that true or conceptual -self-consciousness consists in paying the same kind of attention to -inward psychical processes as is habitually paid to outward physical -processes; that in the mind of animals and infants there is a world of -images standing as signs of outward objects, although we may concede -that for the most part they only admit of being revived by sensuous -association; that at this stage of mental evolution the logic of -recepts comprises an ejective as well as an objective world; and that -here we also have the recognition of individuality, so far as this is -dependent on what has been termed an outward self-consciousness, or the -consciousness of self as a feeling and an active agent, without the -consciousness of self as an object of thought, and, therefore, as a -_subject_. - -Such being the mental conditions precedent to the rise of true -self-consciousness, we may next turn to the growing child for evidence -of subsequent stages in the gradual evolution of this faculty. All -observers are agreed that for a considerable time after a child is -able to use words as expressive of ideas, there is no vestige of true -self-consciousness. But, to begin our survey before this period, at a -year old even its own organism is not known to the child as part of the -self, or, more correctly, as anything specially related to feelings. -Professor Preyer observed that his boy, when more than a year old, bit -his own arm just as though it had been a foreign object; and thus may -be said to have shown even less consciousness of a limb as belonging -to “self,” than did Buffon’s parrot, which would first ask itself for -its own claw, and then comply with the request by placing the claw in -its own beak—in the same way as it would give the claw to any one else -who asked for it in the same words. - -Later on, when the outward self-consciousness already explained has -begun to be developed, we find that the child, like the animal, has -learnt to associate its own organism with its own mental states, in -such wise that it recognizes its body as belonging in a peculiar -manner to the self, so far as the self is recognizable by the logic of -recepts. This is the stage that we meet with in animals. Next the child -begins to talk, and, as we might expect, this first translation of the -logic of recepts reveals the fact that as yet there is no _inward_ -self-consciousness, but only outward: as yet the child has paid no -_attention_ to his own mental states, further than to feel that he -feels them; and in the result we find that the child speaks to himself -as an object, _i.e._ by his proper name or in the third person. That -is to say, “the child does not as yet set himself in opposition to all -outer objects, including all other persons, but regards himself as one -among many objects.”[119] The change of a child’s phraseology from -speaking of self as an object to speaking of self as a subject does not -take place—or but rarely so—till the third year. When it has taken -place we have definite evidence of true self-consciousness, though -still in a rudimentary stage. And it is doubtful whether this change -would take place even at so early an age as the third year, were it -not promoted by the “social environment.” For, as Mr. Sully observes, -“the relation of self and not self, including that between the I and -the You, is continually being pressed on the child’s attention by the -language of others.”[120] But, taking this great change during the -time of life when it is actually observed to be in progress, let us -endeavour to trace the phases of its development. - -It will no doubt be on all hands freely conceded, that at least up to -the time when a child begins to speak it has no beginning of any true -or introspective consciousness of self; and it will further be conceded -that when this consciousness begins to dawn, the use of language -by a child may be taken as a fair exponent of all its subsequent -progress. Now we have already seen that, long before any words are -used indicative of even a dawning consciousness of self as self, the -child has already advanced so far in its use of language as to frame -implicit propositions. But lest it should be thought that my judgment -in this matter is biased by the exigencies of my argument, I may again -quote Mr. Sully as at once an impartial witness and a highly competent -authority on matters of purely psychological doctrine. - -“When a child of eighteen months on seeing a dog exclaims ‘Bow-wow,’ -or on taking his food exclaims ‘Ot’ (Hot), or on letting fall his toy -says ‘Dow’ (Down), he may be said to be implicitly framing a judgment: -‘That is a dog,’ ‘This milk is hot,’ ‘My plaything is down.’ The first -explicit judgments are concerned with individual objects. The child -notes something unexpected or surprising in an object, and expresses -the result of his observation in a judgment. Thus, for example, the boy -more than once referred to, whom we will call C., was first observed to -form a distinct judgment when nineteen months old, by saying ‘Dit ki’ -(Sister is crying). These first judgments have to do mainly with the -child’s food, or other things of prime importance to him. Thus, among -the earliest attempts at combining words in propositions made by C. -already referred to, were the following: ‘Ka in milk,’ (Something nasty -in milk); ‘Milk dare now’ (There is still some more milk in the cup). -Towards the end of the second year quite a number of judgments is -given out having to do with the peculiarities of objects which surprise -or impress the mind, their altered position in space, &c. Among these -may be instanced the following: ‘Dat a big bow-wow’ (That is a large -dog); ‘Dit naughty’ (Sister is naughty); ‘Dit dow ga’ (sister is down -on the grass). As the observing powers grow, and the child’s interest -in things widens, the number of his judgments increases. And as his -powers of detaching relations and of uttering and combining words -develop, he ventures on more elaborate statements, _e.g._ ‘Mama naughty -say dat.’”[121] - -Were it necessary, I could confirm all these statements from my own -notes on the development of children’s intelligence; but I prefer, -for the reason already given, to quote such facts from an impartial -witness. For I conceive that they are facts of the highest importance -in relation to our present subject, as I shall immediately proceed to -show. - -We have now before us unquestionable evidence that in the growing -child there is a power, not only of forming, but of expressing a -pre-conceptual judgment, long before there is any evidence of the -child presenting the faintest rudiment of internal, conceptual, or -true self-consciousness. In other words, it must be admitted that long -before a human mind is sufficiently developed to perceive relations as -related, or to state a truth as true, it is able to perceive relations -and to state a truth: the logic of recepts is here concerned with -those higher receptual judgments which I have called pre-conceptual, -and is able to express such judgments in verbal signs without the -intervention of true (_i.e._ introspective) self-consciousness. It -will be remembered that I have coined these various terms in order to -acknowledge the possible objection that there can be no true judgments -without true self-consciousness. But I do not care what terms are -employed whereby to designate the different and successive phases -of development which I am now endeavouring to display. All that I -desire to make clear is that here we unquestionably have to do with a -_growth_, or with a continuous advance in degree as distinguished from -a difference of kind. - -First, then, let it be observed that in these rudimentary judgments -we already have a considerable advance upon those which we have -considered as occurring in animals. For in a child between the second -and third years we have these rudimentary judgments, not only formed -by the logic of recepts, but expressed by a logic of pre-concepts -in a manner which is indistinguishable from predication, except by -the absence of self-consciousness. “Dit dow ga” is a proposition in -every respect, save in the absence of the copula; which, as I have -previously shown, is a matter of no psychological moment. The child -here perceives a certain fact, and states the perception in words, _in -order to communicate information of the fact to other minds_—just as -an animal, under similar circumstances, will use a gesture or a vocal -sign; but the child is no more able than the animal designedly to make -to its own mind the statement which it makes to another. Nevertheless, -as the child has now at its disposal a much more efficient system -of sign-making than has the animal, and moreover enjoys the double -advantage of inheriting a strong propensity to communicate perceptions -by signs, and of being surrounded by the medium of speech; we can -scarcely wonder that its practical judgments (although still unattended -by self-consciousness) should be more habitually expressed by signs -than are the practical judgments of animals. Nor need we wonder, in -view of the same considerations, that the predicative phrases as used -by a child at this age show the great advance upon similar phrases as -used by a parrot, in that subjects and predicates are no longer bound -together in particular phrases—or, to revert to a previous simile, -are no longer stereotyped in such particular phrases, but admit of -being used as movable types, in order to construct, by different -combinations, a variety of different phrases. To a talking bird a -phrase, as we have seen, is no more in point of signification than a -single word; while to the child, at the stage which we are considering, -it is very much more than this: it is the separately constructed -vehicle for the conveyance of a particular meaning, which may never -have been conveyed by that or by any other phrase before. But while we -thus attach due importance to so great an advance towards the faculty -of true predication, we must notice, on the one hand, that as yet it is -_not_ true predication in the sense of being the expression of a true -or conceptual judgment; and, on the other hand, we must notice that -the power of thus using words as movable types does not deserve to be -regarded as any wonderful or unaccountable advance in the faculty of -sign-making, when we pay due regard to the several considerations above -stated. The really important point to notice is that, notwithstanding -this great _advance_ towards the faculty of predication, this faculty -_has not yet been reached_: the propositions which are made are -still unattended by self-consciousness: they are not conceptual, but -pre-conceptual. - -Given, then, this stage of mental evolution, and what follows? Be it -remembered I am not endeavouring to solve the impossible problem as to -the intrinsic nature of self-consciousness, or how it is that such a -thing is possible. I am merely accepting its existence (and therefore -its possibility) as a fact; and upon the basis of this fact I shall now -endeavour to show how, in my opinion, self-consciousness may be seen to -follow upon the stage of mental evolution which we have here reached. - - * * * * * - -The child, like the animal, is supplied by its logic of recepts with a -world of images, standing as signs of outward objects; with an ejective -knowledge of other minds; and with that kind of recognition of self -as an active, suffering and accountable agent which, following Mr. -Chauncey Wright, I have called “outward self-consciousness.” But, over -and above the animal, the child has at its command, as we have just -seen, the more improved machinery of sign-making which enables it to -signify to other minds (ejectively known) the contents of its receptual -knowledge. Now, among these contents is the child’s perception of the -mental states of others as expressed in their gestures, tones, and -words. These severally receive their appropriate names, and so gain -clearness and precision as ejective images of the corresponding states -experienced by the child itself. “Mama pleased to Dodo” would have -no meaning as spoken by a child, unless the child knew from his own -feelings what is the state of mind which he thus ejectively attributes -to another. Therefore we cannot be surprised to find that at the same -stage of mental evolution the child will say, “Dodo pleased to mama.” -Yet it is evident that we here approach the very borders of true -self-consciousness. “Dodo” is no doubt still speaking of himself in -objective terminology; but he has advanced so far in the interpretation -of his own states of mind as to name them no less clearly than he names -any external objects of sense perception. Thus he is enabled to fix -these states before his mental vision as things which admit of being -_denoted_ by verbal signs, albeit he is not yet able to _denominate_. - -The step from this to recognizing “Dodo” as not only the object, but -also the subject of mental changes, is not a large step. The mere act -of attaching verbal signs to inward mental states has the effect of -focussing attention upon those states; and, when attention is thus -focussed habitually, there is supplied the only further condition -required to enable the mind, through its memory of previous states, to -compare its past with its present, and so to reach that apprehension -of continuity among its own states wherein the full introspective -consciousness of self consists. - -Again, as Mr. Chauncey Wright observes, “voluntary memory, or -reminiscence, is especially aided by command of language. This is a -tentative process, essentially similar to that of a search for a lost -or missing external object. Trials are made in it to revive a missing -mental image, or train of images, by means of words; and, on the other -hand, to revive a missing name by means of mental images, or even by -other words. It is not certain that this power is an exclusively human -one, as is generally believed, except in respect to the high degree of -proficiency attained by men in its use. It does not appear impossible -that an intelligent dog may be aided by its attention, purposely -directed to spontaneous necessaries, in recalling a missing fact, such -as the locality of a buried bone.”[122] - -But whether or not animals possess any power of recollection as -distinguished from memory, there can be no doubt that the use of words -as signs necessarily leads to the cultivation of this faculty, and so -to the clear perception of a continuance of internal or mental states -in which consists the consciousness of an abiding self. - -Further, the acquisition of language greatly advances the conception -of self, both as a suffering or feeling agent, and as an active cause; -seeing that both the feelings and the actions of the self are placed -clearly before the mind by means of denotative names, and even, as we -have just seen, by pre-conceptual propositions. Doubtless, also, the -recognition of self in each of these capacities is largely assisted by -the emotions. The expressions of affection, sympathy, praise, blame, -&c., on the part of others, and the feelings of emulation, pride, -triumph, disappointment, &c., on the part of the self, must all tend -forcibly to impress upon the growing child a sense of personality. “It -is when the child’s attention is driven inwards in an act of reflection -on his own actions, as springing from good or bad motives, that he -wakes up to a fuller consciousness of himself.”[123] - -The conspiring together of all these factors leads to the gradual -attainment of self-consciousness. I say “gradual,” because the process -is throughout of the nature of a growth. Nevertheless, there is some -reason to think that when this growth has attained a certain point, -it makes, so to speak, a sudden leap of progress, which may be taken -to bear the same relation to the development of the mind as the act -of birth does to that of the body. In neither case is the development -anything like completed. Midway between the slowly evolving phases _in -utero_ and the slowly evolving phases of aftergrowth, there is in the -case of the human body a great and sudden change at the moment when it -first becomes separated from that of its parent. And so, there is some -reason to believe, it is in the case of the human mind. Midway between -the gradual evolution of receptual ideation and the no less gradual -evolution of conceptual, there appears to be a critical moment when -the soul first becomes detached from the nutrient body of its parent -perceptions, and wakes up in the new world of a consciously individual -existence. “Die Schlussprozesse, durch welche jene Trennung des Ich von -der Aussenwelt vor sich geht, geschehen allmälig. Es ist eine langsame -Arbeit, durch die sich die Scheidung bewerkstelligt. Doch diese -Scheidung selber ist stets eine plötzliche That: es ist ein bestimmter -Moment, in welchem das Ich mit einem Mal mit voller Klarheit in der -Seele aufblitzt, und es ist derselbe Moment, in welchem das bewusste -Gedächtniss beginnt, Sehr häufig ist es daher, dass gerade diesses -erste blitzähnliche Aufleuchten des Selbstbewusstseins bis in späte -Jahre noch als deutliche Erinnerung zurückbleibt.”[124] - -Of course the evidence upon this point must always be more or less -unsatisfactory—first, because the powers of introspective analysis -at the particular time when they first become nascent must be most -incompetent to report upon the circumstances of their own birth; -and next, because we know how precarious it is to rely on adult -reminiscences of childhood’s experience. Therefore, I have only -mentioned this evidence for what it is worth, in order to remark -that it has no important bearing upon our present subject. Whether -or not there is in the life of every human being some particular -moment between the ages of two and three when the fact of its own -personality is revealed to the growing mind, the results of the present -analysis are in no way affected. For, even if such were supposed to -be invariably the case, it could not be supposed that the revelation -were other than low and feeble to a degree commensurate with the still -almost infantile condition of all the other mental powers. Nor could -it be doubted that this revelation needed to be led up to by that -gradual process of receptual evolution with which my analysis has been -concerned, and which in the terms of our previous analogy we may liken -to the pre-natal life of an embryo. While, on the other hand, as little -can it be doubted that such consciousness of self as is then revealed, -requires to be afterwards supplemented by another prolonged course -of mental evolution in the conceptual sphere, before those completed -faculties of introspective thought are attained, which serve to -difference the mind of a full-grown man from that of a babbling child -almost as widely as the same interval of time is found to difference -the body of an adult from that of a new-born babe. - - * * * * * - -In this brief analysis of the principles which are probably concerned -in the evolution of self-consciousness, I should like to lay particular -stress upon the point in it which I do not think has been sufficiently -noticed by previous writers—namely, the ejective origin of subjective -knowledge. The logic of recepts furnishes both the infant and the -animal with a marvellously efficient store of ejective information. -Indeed, we can scarcely doubt that to a very considerable extent this -information is hereditary: witness the smile of an infant in answer -to a caressing tone, and its cry in answer to a scolding one; not to -mention the still more remarkable cases which we meet with in animals, -such as newly-hatched chickens understanding the different sounds -made to them by the hen, being terror-stricken at the voice of a -hawk, newly-born mammals knowing the voice of their mother, &c.[125] -Moreover, we find that the child, even for a considerable time after -it has begun to use words, manifests a strong tendency to regard all -objects, whether animate or inanimate, as ejects. This fact is a matter -of such general observation that I need not wait to give special -instances. I will, therefore, merely observe that the tendency is not -wholly obliterated even when the faculty of speech has been fully -acquired, and with it a general knowledge of the distinction between -objects as animate and inanimate. Mr. Sully, for instance, gives a case -of this when he records the saying of a little girl of five—“Ma, I -do think this hoop must be alive; it is so sensible; it goes wherever -I want it to.”[126] Again, we meet with the same tendency in the -psychology of uncultured man. Pages might be filled with illustrations -showing that savages all over the world both mentally and expressly -personify, or endow with psychical attributes, the inanimate objects -and forces of nature; while language, even in its most highly developed -forms, still retains the impress of an originally ejective terminology. -And, if Professor Max Müller is right in his generalization that the -personal pronoun “I” is in all languages traceable to roots equivalent -to “This one” (indicative of an accompanying gesture-sign), we have -additional and more particular evidence of the originally ejective -character of the idea of self. Nor is it too much to say that even -civilized man is still under the sway of this innate propensity to -attribute to external things the faculties of feeling and willing of -which he is conscious in himself. On the one side we have proof of this -in the universal prevalence of the hypothesis of psychism in Nature, -while on the other side we meet with further proof in the fact of -psychological analysis revealing that our idea of cause is derived from -our idea of muscular effort. - -Now it is evident that in all these cases the tendency which is -shown by the human mind, in every stage of its development, to -regard external phenomena ejectively, arises from man’s intuitive -knowledge—or the knowledge which is given in the logic of recepts—of -his own existence as twofold, bodily and mental. This in his early -days leads him to regard the Ego as an eject, resembling the others -of his kind by whom he is surrounded. But as soon as the power -of pre-conceptual predication has been attained, the child is in -possession of a psychological instrument wherewith to observe his -own mental states; and as soon as attention is thus directed upon -them, there arises that which is implied in every act of such -attention—namely, the consciousness of a self as at once the subject -and object of knowledge. - -I may remark that this analysis is not opposed, as at first sight it -may appear to be, to the conclusion with regard to the same subject -which is thus given by Wundt:—“It is only after the child has -distinguished by definite characteristics its own being from that of -other people, that it makes the further advance of perceiving that -these other people are also beings in or for themselves.”[127] In -other words, the attribution of personality to self is prior to the -attribution of personality to others. Now this I do not question, -although I do not think there can be much before or after in these two -concepts. But the point which I have been endeavouring to bring out is -that, prior to either of these concepts, there are two corresponding -recepts—namely, first the receptual apprehension of self as an agent, -and, second, the eject of this receptual apprehension, whereby “other -people” are recognized as agents. Out of these two recepts there -subsequently develop the corresponding concepts of personality. The -order of development, therefore, is:— - - (A) Receptual Subject. (a) Receptual Eject. - - (B) Conceptual Subject. (b) Conceptual Eject. - -Upon the whole, then, it appears to me perfectly evident that -language is quite as much the antecedent as it is the consequent of -self-consciousness. We have seen that in its first beginnings, or -before the child is able to state a truth as true, what I have called -rudimentary or pre-conceptual predication is concerned only with -existence as objective or ejective: all these propositions, which -are made by children during the first two years of their life, have -reference to objects of sense, states of feeling, &c.; but never to -self as self, and therefore never to truths as true. But as soon -as the protoplasm of predication, or sign-making at this stage of -elaboration, begins to mix freely with the protoplasm of judgment, -or the logic of recepts at that stage of elaboration, an intimate -movement of action and reaction ensues: the judgments are rendered -clearer and more comprehensive by being thrown into the formal shape of -even rudimentary propositions, while the latter are promoted in their -development by the growing powers of judgment. And when this advancing -organization of faculties has proceeded to the extent of enabling the -mind incipiently to predicate its own states, the mental organism may -be said for the first time to be quickening into the life of true -self-consciousness.[128] - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -THE TRANSITION IN THE INDIVIDUAL. - - -We are now, I think, in possession of sufficient material to begin our -answer to the question with which we set out—namely, Is it conceivable -that the human mind can have arisen by way of a natural genesis from -the minds of the higher quadrumana? I maintain that the material now -before us is sufficient to show, not only that this is conceivable, but -inevitable. - -First of all we must remember that we share in common with the lower -animals not only perceptual, but also what I have termed receptual -life. Thus far, no difference of kind can be even so much as suggested. -The difference then, be it one of kind or of degree, concerns only -those superadded elements of psychology which are peculiar to man, -and which, following other psychologists, I have termed conceptual. -I say advisedly the _elements_, because it is by no one disputed -that all differences of conceptual life are differences of degree, -or that from the ideation of a savage to that of a Shakespeare there -is unquestionably a continuous ascent. The only question, then, that -obtains is as to the relation between the highest recept of a brute and -the lowest concept of a man. - -Now, in considering this question we must first remember to what an -extraordinarily high level of adaptive ideation the purely receptual -life of brutes is able to carry them. If we contrast the ideation of -my cebus, which honestly investigated the mechanical principle of a -screw, and then applied his specially acquired knowledge to screws in -general—if we contrast this ideation with that of palæolithic man, -who for untold thousands of years made no advance upon the chipping -of flints, we cannot say that, when gauged by the practical test of -efficiency or adaptation, the one appears to be very much in advance -of the other. Or, if we remember that these same men never hit upon -the simple expedient of attaching a chipped flint to a handle, so as -to make a hatchet out of a chisel,[129] it cannot be said that in the -matter of mechanical discovery early conceptual life displayed any -great advance upon the high receptual life of my cebus. Nevertheless, I -have allowed—nay insisted—that no matter how elaborate the structure -of receptual knowledge may be, or how wonderful the adaptive action it -may prompt, a “practical inference” or “receptual judgment” is always -separated from a conceptual inference or true judgment by the immense -distinction that it is not itself an object of knowledge. No doubt -it is a marvellous fact that by means of receptual knowledge alone a -monkey should be able to divine the mechanical principle of _a screw_, -and afterwards apply his discovery to all cases of _screws_. But even -here there is nothing to show that the monkey ever _thought_ about -the principle _as_ a principle; indeed, we may rest well assured that -he cannot possibly have done so, seeing that he was not in possession -of the intellectual instruments—and, therefore, of the _antecedent -conditions_—requisite for the purpose. All that the monkey did was -to perceive receptually certain analogies: but he did not _conceive_ -them, or constitute them objects of thought _as_ analogies. He was, -therefore, unable to _predicate_ the discovery he had made, or to set -before his own mind as knowledge the knowledge which he had gained. - -Or, to take another illustration, the bird which saw three men go -into a building, and inferred that one must still have remained when -only two came out, conducted the inference receptually: the only data -she had were those supplied by differential sense-perceptions. But -although these data were sufficient for the purpose of conducting -what Mr. Mivart calls a “practical inference,” and so of enabling her -to know that a man still remained behind, they were clearly not enough -to enable her to know the numerical relations _as_ relations, or in -any way to predicate to herself, 3-2=1. In order to do this, the bird -would have required to quit the region of receptual knowledge, and -rise to that of conceptual: she would have required in some form or -another to have substituted symbols for ideas. It makes no difference, -so far as this distinction is concerned, when we learn that in dealing -with certain savages “each sheep must be paid for separately: thus, -suppose two sticks of tobacco to be the rate of exchange for one sheep, -it would sorely puzzle a Dammara to take two sheep and give him four -sticks.”[130] All that such facts show is that in some respects the -higher receptual life of brutes attains almost as high a level of -ideation as the lower conceptual life of man; and although this fact -no doubt greatly lessens the difficulty which my opponents allege as -attaching to the supposition that the two were genetically continuous, -it does not in itself dispose of the psychological distinction between -a recept and a concept. - -This distinction, as we have now so often seen, consists in a recept -being an idea which is not itself an object of knowledge, whereas a -concept, in virtue of having been named by a self-conscious agent, is -an idea which stands before the mind of that agent _as_ an idea, or -as a state of mind which admits of being introspectively contemplated -as such. But although we have in this distinction what I agree with -my opponents in regarding as the greatest single distinction that is -to be met with in psychology, I altogether object to their mode of -analyzing it. For what they do is to take the concept in its most -highly developed form, and then contrast this with the recept of an -animal. Nay, as we have seen, they even go beyond a concept, and allege -that “the simplest element of thought” is a judgment as bodied forth -in a proposition—_i.e._ _two_ concepts _plus_ the predication of a -relationship between them! Truly, we might as well allege that the -simplest element of matter is H_{2}SO_{4}, or the simplest element -of sound a bar of the C Minor Symphony. Obviously, therefore, or as a -mere matter of the most rudimentary psychological analysis, if we say -that the simplest element of thought is a judgment, we must extend the -meaning of this word from the mental act concerned in full predication, -to the mental act concerned in the simplest conception. - -And not only so. Not only have my opponents committed the slovenly -error of regarding a predicative judgment as “the simplest element -of thought;” they have also omitted to consider that even a concept -requires to be analyzed with respect to its antecedents, before this -the really simplest element of thought can be pointed to as proving -a psychological distinction of kind in the only known intelligence -which presents it. Now, the result of my analysis of the concept has -been to show that it is preceded by what I have termed pre-concepts, -which admit of being combined into what I have termed nascent, -rudimentary, or pre-conceptual judgments. In other words, we have seen -that the receptual life of man reaches a higher level of development -than the receptual life of brutes, even before it passes into that -truly conceptual phase which is distinguished by the presence of -self-conscious reflection. In order, therefore, to mark off this higher -receptual life of a human being from the lower receptual life of a -brute, I have used the terms just mentioned. - -So much, then, for these several stages of ideation, which I have now -reiterated _ad nauseam_. Turning next to my analysis of their several -modes of expression, or of their translation into their severally -equivalent systems of signs, we have seen that many of the lower -animals are able to communicate their recepts by means of gestures -significant of objects, qualities, actions, desires, &c.; and that in -the only case where they are able to articulate, they so communicate -their recepts by means of words. Therefore, in a sense, these animals -may be said to be using names; but, in order not to confuse this -kind of naming with that which is distinctive of conceptual thought, -I have adopted the scholastic terminology, and called the former -kind of naming an act of denotating, as distinguished from an act of -denominating. Furthermore, seeing that denotative language is able, as -above observed, to signify qualities and actions as well as objects, -it follows that in the higher receptual (_i.e._ pre-conceptual) -stages of ideation, denotative language is able to construct what I -have termed pre-conceptual propositions. These differ from true or -conceptual propositions in the absence of true self-consciousness on -the part of the speaker, who therefore, while communicating receptual -knowledge, or stating truths, cannot yet know his own knowledge, or -state the truths as true. But it does not appear that a pre-conceptual -proposition differs from a conceptual one in any other respect, while -it does appear that the one passes gradually into the other with the -rise of self-consciousness in every growing child. Now, if all these -things are so, we are entitled to affirm that analysis has displayed -an uninterrupted transition between the denotation of a brute and the -predication of a man. For the mere fact that it is the former phase -alone which occurs in the brute, while in the man, _after having -run a parallel course of development_, this phase passes into the -other—the mere fact that this is so cannot be quoted as evidence that -a similar transition never took place in the psychological history of -our species, unless it could be shown that when the transition takes -place in the psychological history of the individual, it does so in -such a sudden and remarkable manner as of itself to indicate that the -intellect of the individual has there and then undergone a change of -kind. - - * * * * * - -Such being an outline sketch of my argument, I will now proceed to -fill in the details, taking in historical order the various stages of -ideation which I have named—_i.e._ the receptual, the pre-conceptual, -and the conceptual. - -Seeing that this is, as I apprehend, the central core of the question, -I will here furnish some additional instances of receptual and -pre-conceptual ideation as expressed by denotative and connotative -signs on the part of a child which I carefully observed for the purpose. - -At eighteen months old my daughter, who was late in beginning to -speak, was fond of looking at picture-books, and as already stated in -a previous chapter, derived much pleasure from naming animals therein -represented,—saying _Ba_ for a sheep, _Moo_ for a cow, uttering a -grunt for a pig, and throwing her head up and down with a bray for -a horse or an ass. These several sounds and gestures she had been -taught by the nurse as noun-substantives, and she correctly applied -them in every case, whether the picture-book happened to be one with -which she was familiar or one which she had never seen before; and she -would similarly name all kinds of animals depicted on the wall-paper, -chair-covers, &c., in strange houses, or, in short, whenever she met -with representations of objects the nursery names of which she knew. -Thus there is no doubt that, long before she could form a sentence, or -in any proper sense be said to speak, this child was able to denote -objects by voice and gesture. At this time, also, she correctly used -a limited number of denotative words significant of actions—_i.e._ -active verbs. - -Somewhat later by a few weeks she showed spontaneously the faculty of -expressing an adjective. Her younger brother she had called “Ilda,” and -soon afterwards she extended the name to all young children.[131] Later -still, while looking over her picture-books, whenever she came upon a -representation of a sheep with lambs, she would point to the sheep and -say _Mama-Ba_, while to the lambs she would say _Ilda-Ba_. Similarly -with ducks and ducklings, hens and chickens, and indeed with all the -animals to which she had given names. Here it is evident that _Ilda_ -served to convey the generic idea of _Young_, and so, from having been -originally used as a proper or denotative name, was now employed as an -adjective or connotative name. But although it expressed a quality, -the quality was one of so sensible a kind that the adjective amounted -to virtually the same thing as substantive, so far as any faculty of -abstraction was concerned: it was equivalent to the word _Baby_, when -by connotative extension this comes to be used as an adjective in the -apposition _Baby-Ba_ for a lamb, &c. - -Almost contemporaneously with the acquisition of adjectives, this child -began to learn the use of a few passive verbs, and words significant -of certain states of feeling; she also added to her vocabulary a few -prepositions indicating space relations, such as _Up_, _Down_, &c.[132] - -While these advances were being made, a general progress of the -sign-making faculty was also, and even more conspicuously, shown in -another direction. For speech, in the sense of formal predication, not -having yet begun, the development in question took place in the region -of gesture. She was then (two years) able to express a great many -simple ideas by the combined use of gesture-signs, vocal-tones, and a -large connotative extension of her words. The gesture-signs, however, -were still of the simplest or most receptual order, such as pulling -one by the dress to open a door, pointing to a tumbler to signify -her desire for a drink, &c. That is to say, the indicative stage of -language largely coincided with, or overlapped, the earliest phases of -the denotative and receptually connotative. I have already said that -this indicative stage of language constituted the earliest appearance -of the sign-making faculty which I observed in my own children, at a -time when the only desire expressed seemed to be that of being taken -to the object indicated; and, so far as I can ascertain, this is -universally true of all children. But the point now is, that when the -logic recepts had become more full, the desires expressed by pointing -became of a more and more varied kind, until, at the age of two and a -half (_i.e._ after significant articulation or true word-making had -well set in), the indicative phase of language developed into regular -pantomime, as the following instance will show. Coming into the house -after having bathed in the sea for the first time, she ran to me to -narrate her novel experience. This she did by first pointing to the -shore, then pretending to take off her clothes, to walk into the sea, -and to dip: next, passing her hands up the body to her head, she -signified that the water had reached as high as her hair, which she -showed me was still wet. The whole story was told without the use of a -single articulate sound. - -Now, in the case of these illustrations (and many more of the same -kind might be added if needful), we find the same general fact -exemplified—namely, that the earliest phase of language in the young -child is that which I have called the indicative,—_i.e._ tones and -gestures significant of feelings, objects, qualities, and actions. -This indicative phase of language, or sign-making, lasts much longer -in some children than in others (particularly in those who are late in -beginning to speak); and the longer it lasts the more expressive does -it become of advancing ideation. But in all cases two things have to -be observed in connection with it. The first is that, in its earliest -stages, and onwards through a considerable part of its history, it -is precisely identical with the corresponding phases of indicative -sign-making in the lower animals. Thus, for instance, Professor Preyer -observed that at sixteen months his own child—who at that age could -not speak a word—used to make a gesture significant of petitioning -with its hands (“Bittbewegung”), as indicative of desire for something -to be done. This, of course, I choose as an instance of indicative -sign-making at a comparatively high level of development; but it -is precisely paralleled by an intelligent dog which “begs” before -a water-jug to signify his desire for a drink, or before any other -object in connection with which he desires something to be done.[133] -And so it is with children who pull one’s dress towards a closed door -through which they wish to pass, significantly cry for what they want -to possess, or to have done for them, &c.: children are here doing -exactly what cats and dogs will do under similar circumstances.[134] -And although many of the gesture-signs of children at this age (_i.e._ -up to about eighteen months) are not precisely paralleled by those -of the lower animals, it is easy to see that where there is any -difference it is due to different circumstances of bodily shape, social -conditions, &c.: it is not due to any difference of ideation. That -the kind of ideation which is expressed by the indicative gestures -of young children is the same as that which prompts the analogous -gestures of brutes, is further shown by the fact that, even before -any articulate words are uttered, the infant (like the animal) will -display an understanding of many articulate words when uttered in its -presence, and (also like the animal) will respond to such words by -appropriate gestures. For instance, again to quote Preyer, he found -that his hitherto speechless infant was able correctly to point to -certain colours which he named; and although, as far as I am aware, no -one has ever tried to teach an animal to do this, we know that trained -dogs will display an even better understanding of words by means of -appropriate gestures.[135] - -The other point which has to be noticed in connection with these early -stages of indicative sign-making in the young child is that, sooner -or later, they begin to overlap the earliest stage of articulate -sign-making, or verbal denotation. In other words, denotative -sign-making never begins to occur until indicative sign-making has -advanced considerably; and when denotative sign-making does begin, -it advances parallel with indicative: that is to say, both kinds of -sign-making then proceed to develop simultaneously. But when the -vocabulary of denotation has been sufficiently enriched to enable -the child to dispense with the less efficient material furnished -by indication, indicative signs gradually become starved out by -denotative, and words replace gestures. - - * * * * * - -So far, then, as the earliest or indicative phase of language is -concerned, no difference even of degree can be alleged between the -infant and the animal. Neither can any such difference be alleged with -respect to the earliest exhibitions of the next phases of language, -namely, the denotative and receptually connotative. For we have -seen that the only animals which happen to be capable of imitating -articulate sounds will use these sounds with a truly denotative -significance. Moreover, as we have also seen, within moderate limits -they will even extend such denotative significance to other objects -seen to belong to the same class or kind—thus raising the originally -denotative sign to an incipiently connotative value. And although these -receptually connotative powers of a parrot are soon surpassed by those -of a young child, we have further seen that this is merely owing to -the rapid advance in the _degree_ of receptual life which takes place -in the latter—or, in other words, that if a parrot resembled a dog in -being able to see the resemblance between objects and their pictures, -and also in being so much more able to understand the meanings of -words, then, without doubt, their connotative extension of names would -proceed further than it does; and hence in this matter the parallel -between a parrot and child would proceed further than it does. The -only reason, therefore, why a child thus gradually surpasses a parrot -in the matter of connotation, is because the receptual life of a child -gradually rises to that of a dog—as I have already proved by showing -that the indicative or gesture-signs used by a child after it has thus -surpassed the parrot, are psychologically identical with those which -are used by a dog. Moreover, where denotation is late in beginning and -slow in developing—as in the case of my own daughter—these indicative -signs admit, as we have seen, of becoming much more highly perfected, -so that under these circumstances a child of two years will perform -a little pantomime for the purpose of relating its experiences. Now, -this fact enables me to dispense with the imaginary comparison of a -dog that is able to talk, or of a parrot as intelligent as a dog; for -the fact furnishes me with the converse case of a child _not_ able to -talk at the usual age. No one can suggest that the intelligence of such -a child at two years old differs in kind from that of another child -of the same age, who, on account of having been earlier in acquiring -the use of words, can afford to become less proficient in the use of -gestures.[136] The case of a child late in talking may therefore be -taken as a psychological index of the development of human ideation of -the receptual order, which by accident admits of closer comparison with -that of the higher mammalia than is possible in the case of a child who -begins to talk at the usual age. But, as regards the former case, we -have already seen that the gestures begin by being much less expressive -than those of a dog, then gradually improve until they become -psychologically identical, and, lastly, continue in the same gradual -manner along the same line of advance. Therefore, if in this case no -difference of kind can be alleged _until_ the speaking age is reached, -neither can it be alleged _after_ the speaking age is reached in the -case where this happens to be earlier. Or, in the words previously -used, if a dog like a parrot were able to use verbal signs, or if a -parrot were equal in intelligence to a dog, the connotative powers of a -child would continue parallel with those of a brute through a somewhat -longer reach of psychological development than we now find to be the -case. - -Remembering, then, that brutes so low in the psychological scale as -talking birds reach the level of denotating objects, qualities, &c.; -remembering that some of these birds will extend their denotative names -to objects and qualities conspicuously belonging to the same class; -remembering, further, that all children before they begin to speak have -greatly distanced the talking birds in respect of indicative language -or gesture-signs, while some children (or those late in beginning to -speak) will raise this form of language to the level of pantomime, -thus proving that the receptual ideation of infants just before they -begin to speak is invariably above that of talking birds, and often -far above that of any other animal;—remembering all these things, I -say it would indeed be a most unaccountable fact if children, soon -after they do begin to speak, did _not_ display a great advance upon -the talking birds in their use of denotative signs, and also in their -extension of such signs into connotative words. As we have seen, it -must be conceded by all prudent adversaries that, before he is able to -use any of these signs, an infant is moving in the receptual sphere of -ideation, and that this sphere is already (between one and two years) -far above that of the parrot. Yet, like the parrot, one of the first -uses that he makes of these signs is in the denotation of individual -objects, &c. Next, like the more intelligent parrots, he extends the -meaning of his denotative names to objects most obviously resembling -those which were first designated. And from that point onwards he -rapidly advances in his powers of connotative classification. But can -it be seriously maintained, in view of all the above considerations, -that this rapid advance in the powers of connotative classification -betokens any difference of kind between the ideation of the child and -that of the bird? If it is conceded (as it must be unless my opponents -commit argumentative suicide), that before he could speak at all the -infant was confined to the receptual sphere of ideation, and that -within this sphere his ideation was already superior to the ideation -of a bird,—this is merely to concede that analogies _must_ strike the -child which are somewhat too remote to strike the bird. Therefore, -while the bird will only extend its denotative name from one kind of -dog to another, the child, after having done this, will go on to apply -the name to an image, and, lastly, to the picture of a dog. Surely no -one will be fatuous enough to maintain that here, at the commencement -of articulate sign-making, there is any evidence of generic distinction -between the human mind and the mind of even so poor a representative -of animal psychology as we meet with in a parrot. But, if no such -distinction is to be asserted here, neither can it be asserted anywhere -else, until we arrive at the stage of human ideation where the mind -is able to contemplate that ideation as such. So far, therefore, as -the stages which we are now considering are concerned (_i.e._ the -denotative and receptually connotative), I submit that my case is made -out. And yet these are really the most important stages to be clear -about; for, on account of their having been ignored by nearly all -writers who argue that there is a difference of kind between man and -brute, the most important—because the initial—stages of transition -have been lost sight of, and the fully developed powers of human -thought contrasted with their low beginnings in the brute creation, -without any attention having been paid to the probable history of -their development. Hitherto, so far as I can find, no psychologist has -presented clearly the simple question whether the faculty of naming is -always and necessarily co-extensive with that of _thinking the names_; -and, therefore, the two faculties have been assumed to be one and the -same. Yet, as I have shown in an earlier chapter, even in the highest -forms of human ideation we habitually use names without waiting to -think of them as names—which proves that even in the highest regions -of ideation the two faculties are not _necessarily_ coincident.[137] -And here I have further shown that, whether we look to the brute or to -the human being, we alike find that the one faculty is in its inception -_wholly independent_ of the other—that there are connotative names -before there are any denominative thoughts, and that these connotative -names, when they first occur in brute or child, betoken no further -aptitude of ideation than is betokened by those stages in the language -of gesture which they everywhere overlap. The named recepts of a parrot -cannot be held by my opponents to be true concepts, any more than the -indicative gestures of an infant can be held by them to differ in kind -from those of a dog. - - * * * * * - -I submit, then, that neither as regards the indicative, the denotative, -nor the connotative stages of sign-making is it argumentatively -possible to allege any difference of kind between animal and human -intelligence—apart, I mean, from any evidence of self-consciousness in -the latter, or so long as the intelligence of either is moving in what -I have called the receptual sphere. Let us, then, next consider what -I have called the pre-conceptual stage of ideation, or that higher -receptual life of a child which, while surpassing the receptual life of -any brute, has not yet attained to the conceptual life of a man. - -From what I have already said it must, I should suppose, be now -conceded that, at the place where the receptual life of a child -first begins to surpass the receptual life of any other mammal, no -psychological difference of kind can be affirmed. Let us, therefore, -consent to tap this pre-conceptual life at a considerably higher -level, and analyze the quality of ideation which flows therefrom: let -us consider the case of a child about two years old, who is able to -frame such a rudimentary, communicative, or pre-conceptual proposition -as _Dit ki_ (Sister is crying). At this age, as already shown, there -is no consciousness of self as a thinking agent, and, therefore, no -power of stating a truth as true. _Dit_ is the denotative name of -one recept, _ki_ the denotative name of another: the object and the -action which these two recepts severally represent happen to occur -together before the child’s observation: the child therefore denotes -them both simultaneously—i.e. _brings than into apposition_. This -it does by merely following the associations previously established -between the recept of a familiar object with its denotative name -_dit_, and the recept of a frequent action with its denotative name -_ki_. The apposition in consciousness of these two recepts, with their -corresponding denotations, is thus effected _for_ the child by what -may be termed _the logic of events_: it is not effected _by_ the child -in the way of any intentional or self-conscious grouping of its ideas, -such as we have seen to constitute the distinguishing feature of the -logic of concepts. - -Such being the state of the facts, I put to my opponents the following -dilemma. Either you here have judgment, or else you have not. If you -hold that this is judgment, you must also hold that animals judge, -because I have proved a ready that (according to your own doctrine -as well as mine) the only point wherein it can be alleged that the -faculty of judgment differs in animals and in man consists in the -presence or absence of self-consciousness. If, on the other hand, -you answer that here you have not judgment, inasmuch as you have not -self-consciousness, I will ask you at what stage in the subsequent -development of the child’s intelligence you would consider judgment -to arise? If to this you answer that judgment first arises when -self-consciousness arises, I will ask you to note that, as already -proved, the growth of self-consciousness is itself a gradual process; -so that, according to your present limitation of the term judgment, -it becomes impossible to say when this faculty does arise. In -point of fact, it grows by stages, _pari passu_ with the growth of -self-consciousness. But, if so, where the faculty of stating a truth -perceived passes into the higher faculty of perceiving the truth as -true, there must be a continuous series of gradations connecting the -one faculty with the other. Up to the point where this series of -gradations begins, we have seen that the mind of an animal and the -mind of a man are parallel, or not distinguishable from each other by -any one principle of psychology. Will you, then, maintain that up to -this time the two orders of psychical existence are identical in kind, -but that during its ascent through this final series of gradations the -human mind in some way becomes distinct in kind, not merely from the -mind of animals, _but also from its own previous self_? If so, I must -at this point part company with you in argument, because at this point -your argument ends in a contradiction. If A and B are affirmed to be -similar in origin or kind, and if B is affirmed to grow into C—or to -differ from both A and B only in degree,—it becomes a contradiction -further to affirm that C differs from A in kind. Therefore I submit -that, so far as the pre-conceptual stage of ideation is concerned, it -is still argumentatively impossible for my opponents to show that there -is any psychological difference of kind between man and brute. - -As regards this stage of ideation, then, I claim to have shown that, -just as there is a pre-conceptual kind of naming, wherein originally -denotative words are progressively extended through considerable -degrees of connotative meaning; so there is a pre-conceptual kind -of predication, wherein denotative and connotative terms are brought -together without any conceptual cognizance of the relation thus -virtually alleged between them. For I have proved in the last chapter -that it is not until its third year that a child acquires true or -conceptual self-consciousness, and therefore attains the condition -to true or conceptual predication. Yet long before that time, as I -have also proved, the child forms what I have called rudimentary, -or pre-conceptual, and, therefore, _unthinking_ propositions. Such -propositions, then, are statements of truth made for the practical -purposes of communication; but they are not statements of truth as -true, and therefore not, strictly speaking, propositions at all. -They are translations of the logic of recepts; but not of the logic -of concepts. For neither the truth so stated, nor the idea thus -translated, can ever have been placed before the mind as itself an -object of thought. In order to have been thus placed, the mind must -have been able to dissociate this its product from the rest of its -structure—or, as Mr. Mivart says, to make the things affirmed “exist -_beside_ the judgment, not _in_ it.” And, in order to do this, the -mind must have attained to self-consciousness. But, as just remarked, -such is not yet the case with a child of the age in question; and -hence we are bound to conclude that before there is judgment or -predication in the sense understood by psychologists (conceptual), -there is judgment and predication of a lower order (pre-conceptual), -wherein truths are stated for the sake of communicating simple ideas, -while the propositions which convey them are not themselves objects of -thought. And, be it carefully observed, predication of this rudimentary -or pre-conceptual kind is accomplished by the mere apposition of -denotative signs, in accordance with the general principles of -association. _A_ being the denotative name of an object _a_, and _B_ -the denotative name of a quality or action _b_, when _a b_ occur -together in nature, the relation between them is pre-conceptually -affirmed by the mere act of bringing into apposition the corresponding -denotations _A B_—an act which is rendered inevitable by the -elementary laws of psychological association.[138] - - * * * * * - -The matter, then, has been reduced to the last of the three stages -of ideation which have been marked out for discussion—namely, the -conceptual. Now, whether or not there is any difference of kind -between the ideation which is capable and the ideation which is not -capable of itself becoming an object of thought, is a question which -can only be answered by studying the relations that obtain between -the two in the case of the growing child. But, as we have seen, when -we do study these relations, we find that they are clearly those of a -gradual or continuous passage of the one ideation into the other—a -passage, indeed, so gradual and continuous that it is impossible, even -by means of the closest scrutiny, to decide within wide limits where -the one begins and the other ends. Therefore I need not here recur -to this point. Having already shown that the very condition to the -occurrence of conceptual ideation (namely, self-consciousness) is of -gradual development in the growing child, it is needless to show at any -greater length that the development of conceptual out of pre-conceptual -ideation is of a similarly gradual occurrence. This fact, indeed, is in -itself sufficient to dispose of the allegation of my opponents—namely, -that there is evidence of receptual ideation differing from conceptual -in origin or kind. Only if it could be shown—either that the -receptual ideation of an infant differs in kind from that of an animal, -or that the pre-conceptual ideation of a child so differs from the -preceding receptual ideation of the same child, or lastly, that this -pre-conceptual ideation so differs from the succeeding conceptual -ideation—only if one or other of the alternatives could be proved -would my opponents be able to justify their allegation. And, as a -mere matter of logic, to prove either of the last two alternatives -would involve a complete reconstruction of their argument. For at -present their argument goes upon the assumption that throughout all -the phases of its development a human mind is one in kind—that it is -nowhere fundamentally changed from one order of existence to another. -But in case any subtle opponent should suggest that, although I have -proved the first of the above three alternatives untenable—and, -therefore, that there is no difference even of degree between the -mind of an infant and that of an animal,—I have nevertheless ignored -the possibility that in the subsequent development of every human -being a special miracle may be wrought, which regenerates that mind, -gives it a new origin, and so changes it as to kind—in case any -one should suggest this, I here entertain the two last alternatives -as logically possible. But, even so, as we have now so fully seen, -study of the child’s intelligence while passing through its several -phases of development yields no shadow of evidence in favour of -any of these alternatives; while, on the contrary, it most clearly -reveals the fact that transition from each of the levels of ideation -to the next above it is of so gradual and continuous a character that -it is practically impossible to draw any real lines of demarcation -between them. This, then, I say is in itself enough to dispose of the -allegation of my opponents, seeing that it shows the allegation to be, -not only gratuitous, but opposed to the whole body of evidence which -is furnished by a study of the facts. Nevertheless, still restricting -ourselves to grounds of psychology alone, there remains two general -and important considerations of an independent or supplementary kind, -which tend strongly to support my side of the argument. These two -considerations, therefore, I will next adduce. - - * * * * * - -The first consideration is, that although the advance to -self-consciousness from lower grades of mental development is no doubt -a very great and important matter, it is not so great and important -in comparison with what this development is afterwards destined to -become, as to make us feel that it constitutes any distinction _sui -generis_—or even, perhaps, the principal distinction—between the man -and the brute. For while, on the one hand, we have now fully seen that, -given the protoplasm of judgment and of predication as these occur in -the young child (or as they may be supposed to have occurred in our -semi-human ancestors), and self-consciousness must needs arise; on the -other hand, there is evidence to show that when self-consciousness -does arise, and even when it is fairly well developed, the powers -of the human mind are still in an almost infantile condition. Thus, -for instance, I have observed in my own children that, while before -their third birthday they employed appropriately and always correctly -the terms “I,” “my,” “self,” “myself,” at that age their powers of -reasoning were so poorly developed as scarcely to be in advance of -those which are exhibited by an intelligent animal. To give only one -instance of this. My little girl when four and a half years old—or -nearly two years after she had correctly used the terms indicative -of true self-consciousness—wished to know what room was beneath the -drawing-room of a house in which she had lived from the time of her -birth. When she asked me to inform her, I told her to try to think out -the problem for herself. She first suggested the bath-room, which was -not only above the drawing-room, but also at the opposite side of the -house; next she suggested the dining-room, which, although below the -drawing-room, was also at the other side of the house; and so on, the -child clearly having no power to think out so simple a problem as the -one which she had spontaneously desired to solve. From which (as from -many other instances on my notes in this connection) I conclude that -the genesis of self-consciousness marks a comparatively low level in -the evolution of the human mind—as we might expect that it should, if -its genesis depends on the not unintelligible conditions which I have -endeavoured to explain in the last chapters. But, if so, does it not -follow that great as the importance of self-consciousness afterwards -proves to be as a condition to the higher development of ideation, -in itself, or in its first beginning, it does not betoken any very -perceptible improvement upon those powers of pre-conceptual ideation -which it immediately follows? In other words, there is thus shown to -be even less reason to regard the advent of self-consciousness as -marking a psychological difference of kind, than there would be so -to regard the advent of those higher powers of conceptual ideation -which subsequently—though as gradually—supervene between early -childhood and youth. Yet no one has hitherto ventured to suggest that -the intelligence of a child and the intelligence of a youth display a -difference of kind. - -Or, otherwise stated, the psychological interval between my cebus and -my child (when the former successfully investigated the mechanical -principle of the screw by means of his highly developed receptual -faculties, while the latter unsuccessfully attempted to solve a most -simple topographical problem by means of her lowly developed conceptual -faculties), was assuredly much less than that which afterwards -separated the intelligence of my child from this level of its own -previous self. Therefore, on merely psychological grounds, I conclude -that there would be better—or _less bad_—reasons for alleging that -there is an observable difference of kind between the lowest and the -highest levels of conceptual ideation, than there is to allege that any -such difference obtains between the lowest level of conceptual ideation -and the highest level of receptual. - -“The greatest of all distinctions in biology,” when it first arises, -is thus seen to lie in its _potentiality_ rather than in its _origin_. -Self-consciousness is, indeed, the condition to an immeasurable -change in the mind which presents it; but, in order to become so, it -must be itself conditioned: it must itself undergo a long and gradual -development under the guiding principles of a natural evolution. - - * * * * * - -And, now, lastly, the second supplementary consideration which I have -to adduce is, that even in the case of a fully developed self-conscious -intelligence, both receptual and pre-conceptual ideation continue to -play an important part. That is to say, even in the full-summed powers -of the human intellect, the three descriptions of ideation which I have -distinguished are so constantly and so intimately blended together, -that analysis of the adult mind corroborates the fact already yielded -by analysis of the infantile mind, namely, that the distinctions (which -I have been obliged to draw in order to examine the allegations of my -opponents) are all essentially or intrinsically artificial. My position -is that Mind is everywhere continuous, and if for purposes of analysis -or classification we require to draw lines of demarcation between the -lower and the higher faculties thereof, I contend that we should only -do so as an evolutionist classifies his animal or vegetable species: -higher or lower do not betoken differences of _origin_, but differences -of _development_. And just as the naturalist finds a general -corroboration of this view in the fact that structural and functional -characters are carried upwards from lower to higher forms of life, thus -knitting them all together in the bonds of organic evolution; so may -the psychologist find that even the highest forms of human intelligence -unmistakably share the more essential characters met with in the lower, -thus bearing testimony to their own lineage in a continuous system of -mental evolution. - -Let us, then, briefly contemplate the relations that obtain in the -adult human mind between the boasted faculties of conceptual judgment, -and the lower faculties of non-conceptual. Although I agree with my -opponents in holding that predication (in the strict sense of the -term) is dependent on introspection, I further hold that not every -statement made by adult man is a predication in this sense: the vast -majority of our verbal propositions are made for the practical purposes -of communication, or without the mind pausing to contemplate the -propositions as such in the light of self-consciousness. When I say “A -negro is black,” I do not require to think all the formidable array of -things that Mr. Mivart says I affirm[139]; and, on the other hand, when -I perform an act of conscious introspection, I do not always require -to perform an act of mental predication. No doubt in many cases, or in -those where highly abstract ideation is concerned, this independence of -the two faculties arises from each having undergone so much elaboration -by the assistance which it has derived from the other, that both are -now, so to speak, in possession of a large body of organized material -on which to operate, without requiring, whensoever they are exercised, -to build up the structure of this material _ab initio_. Thus, to take -an example, when I say “Heat is a mode of motion,” I am using what -is now to me a merely verbal sign which expresses an external fact: -I do not require to examine my own ideas upon the abstract terms in -the abstract relation which the proposition sets forth. But for the -_original attainment_ of these ideas I had to exercise many and complex -efforts of conceptual thought, without the previous occurrence of which -I should not now have been able to use, with full understanding of its -import, this verbal sign. Thus all such predications, however habitual -and mechanical they may become, must at some time have required the -mind to examine the ideas which they announce. And, similarly, all acts -of such mental examination—_i.e._ all acts of introspection,—however -superfluous they may now appear when their known product is used for -further acts of mental examination, must originally have required the -mind to pause before them and make to itself a definite statement or -predication of their meaning.[140] - -But although I hold this to be the true explanation of the _apparent_ -independence of predication and introspection in all cases of highly -abstract thought, I am firmly convinced that in all cases where -those lower orders of ideation to which I have so often referred as -receptual and pre-conceptual are concerned, the independence is not -only _apparent_, but _real_. This, indeed, I have already proved -_must_ be the case with the pre-conceptual propositions of a young -child, inasmuch as such propositions are then made in the absence of -self-consciousness, or of the necessary condition to their being _in -any degree_ introspective. But the point now is, that even in the -adult human mind non-conceptual predication is habitual, and that, in -cases where only receptual ideation is concerned, predication of this -kind need _never have been_ conceptual. For, as Mill very truly says, -“it will be admitted that, by asserting the proposition, we wish to -communicate information of that physical fact (namely, that the summit -of Chimborazo is white), and are not thinking of the names, except as -the necessary means of making that communication. The meaning of the -proposition, therefore, is that the individual thing denoted by the -subject has the attributes connoted by the predicate.”[141] - -Now, if it is thus true that even in ordinary predication we may not -require to take conceptual cognizance of the matter predicated—having -to do only with the apposition of names immediately suggested by -association,—the ideation concerned becomes so closely affiliated -with that which is expressed in the lower levels of sign-making, that -even if the connecting links were not supplied by the growing child, -no one would be justified, on psychological grounds alone, in alleging -any difference of kind between one level and another. The object of -all sign-making is primarily that of communication, and from our -study of the lower animals we know that communication first has to do -exclusively with recepts, while from our study of the growing child we -know that it is the signs used in the communication of recepts which -first lead to the formation of concepts. For concepts are first of all -named recepts, known as such; and we have seen in previous chapters -that this kind of knowledge (_i.e._ of names as names) is rendered -possible by introspection, which, in turn is reached by the naming of -self as an agent. But even after the power of conceptual introspection -has been fully reached, demand is not always made upon it for the -communication of merely receptual knowledge; and therefore it is that -not every proposition requires to be introspectively contemplated as -such before it can be made. Given the power of denotative nomination on -the one hand, and the power of even the lowest degree of connotative -nomination on the other, and all the conditions are furnished to -the formation of non-conceptual statements, which differ from true -propositions only in that they do not themselves become objects of -thought. And the only difference between such a statement when made by -a young child, and the same statement when similarly made by a grown -man, is that in the former case it is not even _potentially_ capable of -itself becoming an object of thought. - - * * * * * - -Here, then, the psychological examination of my opponents’ position -comes to an end. And, in the result, I claim to have shown that in -whatever way we regard the distinctively human faculty of conceptual -predication, it is proved to be but a higher development of that -faculty of receptual communication, the ascending degrees of which -admit of being traced through the brute creation up to the level which -they attain in a child during the first part of its second year,—after -which they continue to advance uninterruptedly through the still -higher receptual life of the child, until by further though not less -imperceptible growth they pass into the incipiently conceptual life -of a human mind—which, nevertheless, is not even then nearly so far -removed from the intelligence of the lower animals, as it is from that -which in the course of its own subsequent evolution it is eventually -destined to become. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -COMPARATIVE PHILOLOGY. - - -We have now repeatedly seen that there is only one argument in favour -of the view that the elsewhere continuous and universal process of -evolution—mental as well as organic—was interrupted at its terminal -phase, and that this argument stands on the ground of psychology. But -we have also seen that even upon this its own ground the argument -admits of abundant refutation. In order the more clearly to show that -such is the case, I have hitherto designedly kept my discussion within -the limits of psychological science. The time, however, has now come -when I can afford to take a new point of departure. It is to Language -that my opponents appeal: to Language they shall go. - -In previous chapters I have more than once remarked that the science -of historical psychology is destitute of fossils: unlike pre-historic -structures, pre-historic ideas leave behind them no record of their -existence. But now a partial exception must be taken to this general -statement. For the new science of Comparative Philology has revealed -the important fact that, if on the one hand speech gives _ex_pression -_to_ ideas, on the other hand it receives _im_pression _from_ them, -and that the impressions thus stamped are surprisingly persistent. -The consequence is that in philology we possess the same kind of -unconscious record of the growth and decay of ideas, as is furnished by -palæontology of the growth and decay of species. Thus viewed, language -may be regarded as the stratified deposit of thoughts, wherein they lie -embedded ready to be unearthed by the labours of the man of science. - -In now turning to this important branch of my subject, I may remark -_in limine_ that, like all the sciences, philology can be cultivated -only by those who devote themselves specially to the purpose. My -function, therefore, will here be that of merely putting together the -main results of philological research, so far as this has hitherto -proceeded, and so far as these results appear to me to have any bearing -upon the “origin of human faculty.” Being thus myself obliged to rely -upon authority, where I find that authorities are in conflict—which, -I need hardly say, is often the case—I will either avoid the points -of disagreement, or else state what has to be said on both sides of -the question. But where I find that all competent authorities are in -substantial agreement, I will not burden my exposition by tautological -quotations. - -Among the earlier students of language it was a moot question whether -the faculty had its origin in Divine inspiration or in human invention. -So long as the question touching the origin of language was supposed -to be restricted to one or other of these alternatives, the special -creationists in this department of thought may be regarded as having -had the best of the argument. And this for the following reasons. Their -opponents, for the most part, were unfairly handicapped by a general -assumption of special creation as regards the origin of man, and also -by a general belief in the confusion of tongues at the Tower of Babel. -The theory of evolution having been as yet unformulated, there was an -antecedent presumption in favour of the Divine origin of speech, since -it appeared in the last degree improbable that Adam and Eve should -have been created “with full-summed powers” of intellect, without the -means of communicating their ideas to one another. And even where -scientific investigators were not expressly dominated by acceptance -of the biblical cosmology, many of them were nevertheless implicitly -influenced by it, to the extent of supposing that if language were not -the result of direct inspiration, it can only have been the result of -deliberate invention. But against this supposition of language having -been deliberately invented, it was easy for orthodox opponents to -answer—“Daily experience informs us, that men who have not learned to -articulate in their childhood, never afterwards acquire the faculty of -speech but by such helps as savages cannot obtain; and therefore, if -speech were invented at all, it must have been either by children who -were incapable of invention, or by men who were incapable of speech. -A thousand, nay, a million, of children could not think of inventing -a language. While the organs are pliable, there is not understanding -enough to frame the conception of a language; and by the time that -there is understanding, the organs are become too stiff for the task, -and therefore, say the advocates for the Divine origin of language, -reason as well as history intimates that mankind in all ages must have -been speaking animals—the young having constantly acquired this art by -imitating those who are older; and we may warrantably conclude that our -first parents received it by immediate inspiration.”[142] - -There remained, however, the alternative that language might have been -the result neither of Divine inspiration nor of human invention; but of -natural growth. And although this alternative was clearly perceived by -some of the earlier philologists, its full significance could not be -appreciated before the advent of the general theory of evolution.[143] -Nevertheless, it is here of interest to observe that the theory of -evolution was clearly educed from, and applied to, the study of -languages by some of the more scientific philologists, before it had -been clearly enunciated by naturalists. Thus, for instance, Dr. Latham, -while criticizing the passage above quoted, wrote in 1857:—“In the -actual field of language, the lines of demarcation are less definitely -marked than in the preceding sketch. The phenomena of growth, however, -are, upon the whole, what it suggests.... In order to account for the -existing lines of demarcation, which are broad and definite, we must -bear in mind a fresh phenomenon, viz. the spread of one dialect at the -expense of others, a fact which obliterates intermediate forms, and -brings extreme ones into geographical juxtaposition.”[144] - -Now, at the present day—owing partly to the establishment of the -doctrine of evolution in the science of biology, but much more to -direct evidence furnished by the science of philology itself—students -of language are unanimous in their adoption of the developmental -theory. Even Professor Max Müller insists that “no student of the -science of language can be anything but an evolutionist, for, wherever -he looks, he sees nothing but evolution going on all around him;”[145] -while Schleicher goes so far as to say that “the development of new -forms from preceding forms can be much more easily traced, and this on -even a larger scale, in the province of words, than in that of plants -and animals.”[146] - -Here, however, it is needful to distinguish between language and -languages. A philologist may be firmly convinced that all languages -have developed by way of natural growth from those simplest elements, -or “roots,” which we shall presently have to consider. But he may -nevertheless hesitate to conclude, with anything like equal certainty, -that these simplest elements were themselves developed from still -lower ingredients of the sign-making faculty; and hence that not only -all languages in particular, but the faculty of language in general, -has been the result of a natural evolution. - -Here then, let it be noted, we are in the presence of exactly the -same distinction with regard to the origin of language, as we were at -the beginning of this treatise with regard to the origin of man. For -we there saw that while we have the most cogent historical evidence -in proof of the principles of evolution having governed the progress -of civilization, we have no such direct evidence of the descent of -man from a brutal ancestry. And here also we find that, so long as -the light of history is able to guide us, there can be no doubt that -the principles of evolution have determined the gradual development -of languages, in a manner strictly analogous to that in which they -have determined the ever-increasing refinement and complexity of -social organization. Now, in the latter case we saw that such direct -evidence of evolution from lower to higher levels of culture renders -it well-nigh certain that the method must have extended backwards -beyond the historical period; and hence, that such direct evidence -of evolution uniformly pervading the historical period, in itself -furnishes a strong _primâ facie_ presumption that this period was -itself reached by means of a similarly gradual development of human -faculty. And thus, also, it is in the case of language. If philology -is able to prove the fact of evolution in all known languages as far -back as the primitive roots out of which they have severally grown, the -presumption becomes exceedingly strong that these earliest and simplest -elements, like their later and more complex products, were the result -of a natural growth. - -Nevertheless, as I have said, it is important to distinguish between -demonstrated fact and speculative inference, however strong; and, -therefore, I will begin by briefly stating the stages of evolution -through which languages are now generally recognized by philologists to -have passed, without at present considering the more difficult question -as to the origin of roots. - -Supposing we take such a word as “uncostliness.” Obviously here the -“un” the “li” and the “ness” are derivative appendages, demonstrative -elements, suffixes and affixes, or whatever else we care to call -_modifying constants_ which the speakers of a language are in the -habit of adding to their root-words, for the sake of ringing upon -those words whatever changes of meaning occasion may require. These -modifying constants, of course, have all had a history, which often -admits of being traced. Thus, for instance, in the above illustration, -we know that the “li” is an abbreviation of what used to be pronounced -as “like;” the “ness,” however, being older than the English language; -while the “un” dates back still further. The word “cost,” then, is here -the root, as far as English is concerned—though it can be followed -(through the Latin _con-sta_) to an Aryan root, signifying “stand.” - -These modifying constants, moreover, are not restricted to suffixes, -infixes, and affixes attached to roots, so as to constitute single (or -compound) words: they also occur as themselves separate words, which -admit of being built into the structure of sentences as pronouns, -adverbs, prepositions, &c. And they may occur likewise as so-called -“auxiliary verbs,” in the case of some languages, while in the case of -others their functions are served by grammatical “inflection” of the -words themselves. Thus, according to the “genius” of a language, its -roots are made to lend themselves to significant treatment in different -ways, or according to different methods. But in all cases the roots are -present, and serve as what may be termed the back-bone of a language: -the demonstrative elements, in whatever form they appear, are merely -what I have termed modifying constants. - -From this general fact we may be prepared to expect, on the theory -of evolution, that in all languages the roots should be the -oldest elements; those elements which serve only the function of -“demonstrating” the particular meaning which is to be assigned to the -roots on particular occasions, we should expect to have been of later -growth. For they serve only the function of giving specific meanings -to the general meanings already present in the roots; and, therefore, -in the absence of the roots would themselves present no meaning at -all. Consequently, as I have said, we should antecedently expect to -find that the roots are the earliest discoverable (though not on this -account necessarily the most primitive) elements of all languages. And -this, as a general rule, is what we do find. In tracing back the family -tree of any group of languages, different demonstrative elements are -found on different branches, though all these branches proceed from -(_i.e._ are found to contain) the same roots. Of course these roots -may be variously modified, both as to sound and the groups of words -to which in the different branches they have given origin; but such -divergent evolution merely tends to corroborate the proof of a common -descent among all the branches concerned.[147] - -I have said that all philologists now agree in accepting the doctrine -of evolution as applied to languages in general; while there is no such -universal agreement touching the precise method or history of evolution -in the case of particular languages. I will, therefore, first give a -brief statement of the main facts of language-structure, and afterwards -render an equally short account of the different views which are -entertained upon the question of language-development. Or, to borrow -terms from another science, I will first deal with the morphology -of the main divisions of the language-kingdom, and then proceed to -consider the question of their phylogeny. - - * * * * * - -More than a thousand languages exist as “living” languages, no one -of which is intelligible to the speakers of another. These separate -languages, however, are obviously divisible into families—all the -members of each family being more or less closely allied, while members -of different families do not present any such evidence of genetic -affinity. The test of genetic affinity is resemblance in structure, -grammar, and roots. Judged by this test, the thousand or more living -languages are classified by Professor Friedrich Müller under “about one -hundred families.”[148] Therefore, again to borrow biological terms, -we may say that there are about one thousand existing “species” of -language, which fall into about one hundred “genera”—all the species -in each genus being undoubtedly connected by the ties of genetic -affinity. - -But besides these species and genera of language, there are what may -be termed “orders”—or much larger divisions, each comprising many of -the genera. By philologists these orders are usually called “groups,” -and whether or not there is any genetic relation among them is still -an unsettled question. From the very earliest days of true linguistic -research, three of these groups have been recognized, and called -respectively, (1) the Isolating, (2) the Agglutinative, and (3) the -Inflectional. I will first explain the meaning which these names are -intended to bear, and then proceed to consider the results of more -recent research upon the question of their phylogeny. - -In the _Isolating_ forms of language every word stands by itself, -without being capable of inflectional change for purposes of -grammatical construction, and without admitting of much assistance -for such purposes from demonstrative elements, or modifying constants. -Languages of this kind are often called _Monosyllabic_, from the fact -that the isolated words usually occur in the form of single syllables. -They have also been called _Radical_, from the resemblance which -their monosyllabic and isolated words present to the primitive roots -of languages of other types—roots which, as already indicated, have -been unearthed by the labours of the comparative philologist. Thus, -upon the whole, the best idea of an isolating language may be gained -by comparing it with the “nursery-language” of our own children, who -naturally express themselves, when first beginning to speak, by using -monosyllabic and isolated words, which further resemble the languages -in question by not clearly distinguishing between what we understand -as “parts of speech.” For in isolating tongues such variations of -grammatical meaning as the words are capable of conveying are mainly -produced, either by differences of intonation, or by changing the -positions which words occupy in a sentence. Of course these expedients -obtain more or less in languages of both the other types; but in the -isolating group they have been wrought up into a much greater variety -and nicety of usage, so as to become fairly good substitutes for -modifying constants on the one hand, and inflectional change on the -other. Nevertheless, although inflectional change is wholly absent, -modifying constants in the form of auxiliary words are not so. In -Chinese, for example, there are what the native grammarians call -“full words,” and “empty words.” The full words are the monosyllabic -terms, which, when standing by themselves, present meanings of such -vague generality as to include, for instance, _a ball_, _round_, -_to make round_, _in a circle_: that is to say, the full words when -standing alone do not belong to any one part of speech more than to -another. Moreover, one such word may present many totally different -meanings, such as _to be_, _truly_, _he_, _the letter_, _thus_. In -order, therefore, to notify the particular meaning which a full word is -intended to convey, the empty words are used as aids supplementary to -the devices of intonation and syntax. It is probable that all these -empty words were once themselves full words, the meanings of which -gradually became obscured, until they acquired a purely arbitrary use -for the purpose of defining the sense in which other words were to be -understood—just as our word “like,” in its degenerated form of “ly,” -is now employed to give adjectives the force of adverbs; although, of -course, there is the difference that in isolating tongues the empty -or defining words are not fused into the full ones, but themselves -remain isolated. In the opinion of many philologists, however, “the -use of accessory words, in order to impart the required precision to -the principal terms, is the path that leads from monosyllabic to the -agglutinative state.”[149] - -This _Agglutinative_, or, as it is sometimes called, _Agglomerative_ -state belongs to languages of the second order. Here the words which -serve the purpose of modifying constants, or marks of relationship, -become fusible with the words which they serve to modify or define, so -as to constitute single though polysyllabic compounds, as in the above -example, “_un-cost-li-ness_.” I have already remarked that by long -usage many of these modifying constants have had their own original -meanings as independent words so completely obscured as to baffle the -researches of philologists. - -If all our words had been formed on the type of this example -_un-cost-li-ness_, English would have been an agglutinative language. -But, as a matter of fact, English, like the rest of the group to -which it mainly belongs, has adopted the device of inflecting many -of its words (or, rather, has inherited this device from some of its -progenitors), and thus belongs to the third order of languages which -I have mentioned, namely, the _Inflective_. Languages of this type -are also often termed _Transpositive_, because the words now admit -of being shifted about as to their relative positions in a sentence, -without the meaning being thereby affected. That is to say, relations -between words are now marked much less by syntax, and much more -by individual change. In languages of this kind the principle of -agglutination has been so perfected that the original composition -is more or less obscured, and the resulting words therefore admit -of being themselves twisted into a variety of shapes significant of -finer grades of meaning, in the way of declension, conjugation, &c. -Or, to state the case as it has been stated by some philologists, -in agglutinative tongues the welded elements are not sufficiently -welded to admit of flexion: they are too loosely joined together, or -still too independent one of another. But when the union has grown -more intimate, the structure allows of more artistic treatment at the -hands of language-makers: the “amalgamation” of elements having become -complete, the resulting alloy can be manipulated in a variety of ways -without involving its disintegration. Moreover, this principle of -inflection may extend from the component parts to the root itself; not -only suffixes and prefixes, but even the word which these modify, may -undergo inflectional change. So that, upon the whole, the best general -idea of these various types of language-structure may perhaps be given -by the following formulæ, which I take from Hovelacque.[150] - -In the isolating type the formula of a word is simply R, and that of -a sentence R+R+R, &c., where R stands for “root.” If we represent by -r those roots whose sense has become obscured so as to pass into the -state of prefixes and suffixes significant only of relationship between -other words, we shall have a formula of agglutination, Rr, Rrr, rR, -rRr, &c. Lastly, the essence of an inflecting language consists in -the power of a root to express, by modification of its own form, its -various relations to other roots. Not that the roots of all words are -necessarily modified; for they often remain as they do in agglutinating -tongues. But they _may_ be modified, and “languages in which relations -may be thus expressed, not only by suffixes and prefixes, but also by -a modification of the form of the roots, are inflectional languages.” -Therefore, if we represent this power of inflectional change on the -part of the root itself by the symbol ^x, the agglutinating formula -Rr may become R^{xr}. Moreover, the modifying elements may also be -inflected, words thus yielding such formulæ as Rr^x, Rrr^x, &c. - -Such, then, are the three main groups or orders of language. But -in addition to them we must notice three others, which have been -shown to be clearly separable. These three additional groups are the -Polysynthetic, the Incorporating, and the Analytic. - -The _Polysynthetic_ (= _Incapsulating_) order is found among certain -savages, especially on the continent of America, where, according -to Duponceau, more or less distinctive adherence to this type is -to be met with from Greenland to Chili. The peculiarity of such -languages consists in the indefinite composition of words by syncope -and ellipsis. That is to say, sentences are formed by the running -together of compound words of inordinate length, and in the process of -fusion the constituent words are so much abbreviated as often to be -represented by no more than a single intercalated letter. For example, -the Greenland _aulisariartorasuarpok_, “he-hastened-to-go-afishing,” -is made up of _aulisar_, “to fish,” _peartor_, “to be engaged in -anything,” _pinnesuarpok_, “he hastens:” and the Chippeway _totoccabo_, -“wine,” is formed of _toto_, “milk,” with _chominabo_, “a bunch of -grapes.” Thus, polysynthesis consists of fusion with contraction, -some of the component words losing their first, and others their last -syllables. Moreover, composition of this kind further differs from that -which occurs in many other types of language (_e.g._ our adjectival -_never-to-be-forgotten_), in that the constituent parts may never have -attained the rank of independent words, which can be set apart and -employed by themselves. - -The _Incorporating_ order is merely a subdivision of the agglutinative, -and represents an earlier stage of it, wherein the speakers had not -yet begun to analyze their sentences, and so still retain in their -sentences subordinate words in cumbersome variety, as, for example, -“House-I-it-built;” “They-have-them-their-books.” - -Again, the _Analytic_ order is merely a subdivision of the -inflectional, and represents a later stage of it. “One by one the -grammatical relations implied in an inflectional compound are brought -out into full relief, and provided with special forms in which to be -expressed.” Thus, in English, for example, inflections have largely -given place to the use of “auxiliary” words, whereby most of the -advantages of refined distinction are retained, while the machinery of -expression is considerably simplified. - -So that, on the whole, we may classify the Language-kingdom thus:— - - Order I. Isolating. - - Order II. Agglutinative: (Sub-orders, Polysynthetic and Incorporating). - - Order III. Inflectional: (Sub-order, Analytic). - -In the opinion of some philologists, however, the Polysynthetic type -deserves to be regarded, not as a sub-order of the Agglutinative, -but as itself independent of all the other three, and therefore -constituting a fourth order. Thus, on the one hand, we have it said -that polysynthetic languages must “simply be placed last in the -ascending order of the agglutinating series;”[151] while, on the other -hand, it is said, “the conception of the sentence that underlies -the polysynthetic dialects is the precise converse of that which -underlies the isolating or the agglutinative types; the several ideas -into which the sentence may be analyzed, instead of being made equal -or independent, are combined, like a piece of mosaic, into a single -whole.”[152] - -These two representative quotations may serve to show how accentuated -is the difference of teaching with regard to this particular group -of languages. As a mere matter of classification, of course, the -question would not be of any importance for us; but as the question -of classification involves one of phylogeny, the matter does acquire -considerable interest in relation to our subject. - - * * * * * - -Turning, then, from the classification of language-types to their -phylogeny, no one disputes that what I have called the sub-order -Incorporating is genetically connected with the order Agglutinative; -or that the sub-order Analytic is similarly connected with the order -Inflectional. Indeed, these sub-orders are merely branches of these two -respective trunks. The question before us, therefore, reduces itself -to the relations between the three orders _inter se_, and also between -the polysynthetic type and Order II. I will deal with these two cases -separately. - -On the one hand it is argued that the isolating, monosyllabic, or -“nursery” type of speech must be regarded as the most primitive—in -fact, that it presents to actual observation the continued “survival” -of that embryonic or “radical” stage of development out of which all -the subsequent growths of language have arisen. Again, the proved fact -of agglutination is seen to represent a long course of development, -wherein words previously isolated were run together into compounds for -the purpose of securing that higher differentiation of language-growth -which we know as parts of speech. Similarly, the inflectional stage -is taken to have been a further elaboration of the agglutinative, in -the manner already explained; while, lastly, the use of auxiliary -words in analytic tongues is regarded as the final consummation of -language-growth. - -The theory thus briefly sketched is still maintained by many -philologists; and, indeed, in some of its parts is not a theory at all, -but a matter of demonstrable fact. Thus, it is manifestly impossible -that the phenomena of agglutination can be presented before there are -elements to agglutinate: these elements, therefore, must have preceded -that process of fusion wherein the “genius” of agglutinated speech -consists. Similarly, of course, agglutination must have preceded the -inflection of already agglutinated words; while the use of auxiliaries -can be proved to have been historically subsequent to inflection. -Nevertheless, other philologists have shown good ground for questioning -our right to regard these facts as justifying so universal a theory -as that the law of language-growth is always to be found in these -particular lines, or that all languages of one type must have passed -through the lower phase, or phases, before reaching that in which they -now appear. The most recent argument on this side of the question is by -Professor Sayce, whom, therefore, I will quote. - -“We are apt to assume that inflectional languages are more highly -advanced than agglutinative ones, and agglutinative languages than -isolating ones, and hence that isolation is the lowest stage of the -three, at the top of which stands flection. But what we really mean -when we say that one language is more advanced than another, is that -it is better adapted to express thought, and that the thought to be -expressed is itself better. Now, it is a grave question whether from -this point of view the three classes of language can really be set the -one against the other.”[153] - -He then proceeds to argue that isolating languages have an advantage -over all other forms in “the attainment of terseness and vividness;” -that “the agglutinative languages are in advance of the inflectional -in one important point, that, namely, of analyzing the sentence into -its component parts, and distinguishing the relations of grammar one -from another.... In fact, when we examine closely the principle upon -which flection rests, we shall find that it implies an inferior logical -faculty to that implied by agglutination.”[154] - -Elsewhere he says, “As for the primeval root-language, we have no -proof that it ever existed, and to confound it with a modern isolating -language is simply erroneous. Equally unproved is the belief that -isolating languages develop into agglutinative, and agglutinative into -inflectional. At all events, the continued existence of isolating -tongues like the Chinese, or of agglutinative like the Magyar and -Turkish, shows that the development is not a necessary one.”[155] - -I could quote other passages to the same effect; but the above are -sufficient to show that we must not unreservedly accept the earlier -doctrines previously sketched. There is, indeed, no question about the -fact of language-growth as regards particular languages; the question -here is as to the evolution of language-types one from another. And I -have given prominence to this question in order to make the following -remarks upon it. - -When we are told that “the continued existence of isolating tongues -like the Chinese, or of agglutinative tongues like the Magyar and -Turkish, shows that the development is not a necessary one,” we of -course at once perceive the unquestionable truth of the statement. -But the fact is without relevance to the only question in debate. The -continued existence of the Protozoa unquestionably proves that their -development into the Metazoa is not necessary; but this fact raises no -presumption at all against the doctrine that all the Metazoa have been -evolved from the Protozoa. - -Similarly, when we are told that “what we really mean when we say -that one language is more advanced than another, is that it is better -adapted to express thought,” we are again being shunted from the -question. The question is whether one type of language-structure -_develops_ into another: not whether, when developed, it is “_more -advanced_” than another in the sense of being “better adapted to -express thought.” This it may or may not be; but in either case the -question of its efficiency as a language has no necessary connection -with the question of its development as a language. For it may very -well be that from the same origin two or more lines of development -may occur in different directions. It is doubtless perfectly true, -as Professor Sayce says, that modern Chinese is a higher product -of evolution than ancient Chinese along the line of isolating -condensation; but this is no proof that the agglutinative languages -did not start from an isolating type, and thereafter proceed on a -different line of development in accordance with their different -“genius,” or method of growth. Naturalists entertain no doubt that -two different types of morphological structure, _b_ and [Greek: b], -are both descended from a common parent form B, even though _b_ has -“advanced” in one line of change and [Greek: b] in another, so that -both are now equally efficient from a morphological point of view. Why, -then, should a philologist dispute genetic relationship in what appears -to be a precisely analogous case, on the sole ground that _b_ is, to -his thinking, no less psychologically efficient a language than [Greek: -b]? - -Lastly, as I have before indicated, it appears to me impossible to -dispute that every agglutinative language, in whatever measure it can -be proved to be agglutinative, in that measure is thereby proved to -have been derived from a language less agglutinative, and therefore -more isolating. And, similarly, in whatever measure an inflective -language can be proved to inflect its agglutinated words, in that -measure is it thereby proved to have been derived from a language less -inflective, or a language whose agglutinations had not yet undergone so -much of the inflective modification. - -On the other hand, as there is no necessary reason why an isolating -language should develop into an agglutinative, or an agglutinative -into an inflectional, it may very well be that the higher evolution -of isolating tongues has proceeded collaterally with that of -agglutinative, while the higher evolution of agglutinative has -proceeded collaterally with that of inflectional. If this were so, both -the schools of philology which we are considering would be equally -right, and equally wrong: each would represent a different side of the -same truth. - -Thus it appears to me that, so far as the purposes of the present -treatise are concerned, we may neglect the question of phylogenesis -as between these three orders of languages. For, so long as it is on -all hands agreed that the principles of evolution are universally -concerned in the genesis of every language, it will make no difference -to my future argument whether these principles have obtained in one -or in more lines of development. There can be no reasonable doubt that -in some greater or less degree the three orders are connected: in -what precise degree this connection obtains is doubtless a question -of high importance to the science of philology: it is of scarcely any -importance to the problems which we shall presently have to consider. - -But the issue touching the relation between the polysynthetic and -other types of language is of more importance for us, inasmuch as -it involves the question whether or not we have here to do with the -most primitive type of language. In the opinion of some philologists, -“these polysynthetic languages are an interesting survival of the -early condition of language everywhere, and are but a fresh proof -that America is in truth ‘the new world:’ primitive forms of speech -that have elsewhere perished long ago still survive there, like the -armadillo, to bear record of a bygone past.”[156] On the other hand, -it is with equal certainty affirmed that “polysynthesis is not a -primitive feature, but an expansion, or, if you will, a second phase of -agglutination.”[157] - -Of course in dealing with this issue I can only do so as an amateur, -quite destitute of authority in matters pertaining to philology; but -the points on which I am about to speak have reference to principles so -general, that in trying them the lay mind may not be without its uses -in the jury-box. Moreover, philologists themselves are at present so -ill-informed touching the facts of polysynthetic language, that there -is less presumption here than elsewhere in any outsider offering his -opinion upon the matters in dispute.[158] It is however, undesirable -to occupy space with any tedious rehearsal of the facts on which, after -reading the more important literature of the subject, my judgment is -based. For what it is worth, this judgment is as follows. - -In the first place, it appears to me that those experts have an -overwhelmingly strong case who argue in favour of the polysynthetic -languages as presenting a highly primitive form of speech. Indeed, so -undifferentiated do I think they prove this type of language-structure -to be, that I agree with them in concluding that it probably brings -us nearer “the origin of speech” than any other type now extant. -Furthermore, looking to the wide contrast between this type and -that which is presented by the isolating tongues, it appears to me -impossible that the one can be genetically connected with the other. -For it appears to me that the experts on the opposite side have no -less completely proved, that the isolating tongues also present -evidence of a highly primitive origin; and, therefore, that whatever -amount of evolution and subsequent degeneration (“phonetic decay”) -the Chinese language, for instance, may be proved to have undergone, -this only goes to show that it has throughout remained true to the -isolating principle—just as the Protozoa, through all their long -history of evolution, have remained true to _their_ “isolating” type, -notwithstanding that some of their branches must long ago have given -origin to the “agglutinated” Metazoa. In other words, it appears to me -that the experts on this side of the question have been able to place -the isolating type of speech on as low a level of development—and, -therefore, presumably on as high a level of antiquity—as experts on -the other side have been able to claim for the polysynthetic. - -If I am right in this opinion, it follows that there must have been at -least two points of origin from which all existing languages arose—or -rather, let me say, at least two types of language-formation upon -which the earliest materials of speech were moulded. For even the -strongest advocates of the polysynthetic origin of speech do not -venture to question the highly primitive nature of the monosyllabic -type. Thus, for instance, Professor Sayce is the principal upholder -of the polysynthetic view, and yet he quotes the isolating forms -of Chinese and Taic as furnishing “excellent illustrations of the -early days of speech;”[159] and he adduces them as “examples from -the far East to show us the way in which our words first came into -existence.”[160] But if this is allowed to be so even by the leading -advocate of the polysynthetic view, I cannot conceive the possibility -of the one type having become so completely transformed into the other -as to have left no trace in the isolating type of its polysynthetic -origin. For, in view of the above admissions, we are left to conclude -that the transformation must have taken place soon after the birth -of language in any form—notwithstanding that, as Professor Sayce -elsewhere insists (in the passage already quoted), “the conception of -the sentence which underlies the polysynthetic dialects is the precise -converse of that which underlies the isolating or the agglutinative -type.” - -In view of these statements, therefore, by Professor Sayce himself, I -do not think it is necessary for me to go further in justification of -the opinion already expressed—namely, that we must recognize at least -two types of language-formation upon which the earliest materials of -speech were moulded. It is probable enough that both these types of -language-formation were independently originated in many parts of the -earth’s surface at different times; and it is possible that yet other -types may have arisen, which are now either extinct, or fused with -some of the later developments of the two which have survived. But, be -these things as they may, I believe that both the schools of philology -which we are considering have made out their respective cases; and, -therefore, that they both err in so often assuming that these cases -are mutually exclusive. - -It will thus be apparent that I am altogether in favour of the -polyphylectic theory of language-development. Even if it were not for -the specially philological considerations just adduced, on grounds of -merely general reasoning it would appear to me much more probable that -so useful a sociological instrument as that of articulate sign-making -should have been evolved from the sign-making of tone and gesture, -wherever the psychological powers of mankind were far enough advanced -to admit of the evolution. And, if this is so, it clearly becomes -probable that any aboriginal races which were geographically separated -would have slowly and independently elaborated their primitive forms -of utterance—supposing, of course, that mankind had become segregated -while still in the speechless state, which, as I will subsequently -explain, seems to me the most probable supposition. And, if this were -the case, it appears to me highly improbable that languages which -originated and developed independently of one another should all have -been under the necessity of starting either on the monosyllabic, -the polysynthetic, or any other type exclusively. That the existing -languages of the earth did originate in more than one centre is now the -almost universal belief of competent authorities.[161] But too many -of these authorities are still bound by what appears to me the wholly -gratuitous and highly improbable assumption, that although various -languages thus originated in different centres, they must all have been -born with an exact family resemblance to one another, so far as type or -“genius” is concerned. But there is no basis for such an assumption, -either in the physiology or the psychology of mankind. On the contrary, -if we look to the nearest analogue of the case, namely, the growing -child, we may find abundant evidence of the fact that the earliest -attempts at articulate utterance may occur on different types, as we -saw so strikingly proved by quotations from Dr. Hale in a previous -chapter. - - * * * * * - -In this connection I would like to conclude the present chapter by -giving prominence to an interesting and ingenious hypothesis, which has -been suggested by Dr. Hale on the basis of the facts just alluded to. - -In order that the merits of this suggestion may be appreciated, it -is desirable to remind the reader that the languages now spoken by -the native tribes of the American continent present so many and such -radical differences among themselves, that, with regard to a large -proportion of them, philologists are unable so much as to suggest any -philological classification. Thus, to quote Professor Whitney, “as -regards the material of expression, it is fully confessed that there -is irreconcilable diversity among them. There are a very considerable -number of groups, between whose significant signs exist no more -apparent correspondencies than between those of English, Hungarian, -and Malay; none, namely, which may not be merely fortuitous.”[162] -And, what is most curious, these immense differences may obtain -between neighbouring tribes who are to all appearance ethnologically -identical—as, for instance, the Algonkin, Iroquois, and Dakota groups. -Moreover, this diversity of language-structure in some cases goes so -far as to reach the very roots of language-growth; “the polysynthetic -structure does not belong in the same degree to all American languages: -on the contrary, it seems to be altogether effaced, or originally -wanting, in some.”[163] Nay, even the isolating type of language -has gained a footing, and this in its properly monosyllabic and -uninflective form. - -Such being the state of matters on the American continent (and also, -though to a lesser extent, in the Southern parts of the African), Dr. -Hale suggests the following hypothesis by way of explanation. To me -it certainly appears a plausible one, and if it should eventually be -found to furnish a key for unlocking the mysteries of language-growth -in the New World, it would obviously become available as a sufficient -explanation of radical diversities of language elsewhere. - -Starting from the facts which I have already quoted from his paper at -the close of my chapter on Articulation, he argues that if children -will thus spontaneously devise a language of their own in a wholly -arbitrary manner, even when surrounded by the spoken language of a -civilized community, much more would children be likely to do this if -they should be accidentally separated from human society, and thus -thrown upon their own resources in an isolated condition. Now, “if, -under such circumstances, disease or the casualties of a hunter’s life -should carry off the parents, the survival of the children would, it is -evident, depend mainly upon the nature of the climate and the ease with -which food could be procured at all seasons of the year. In ancient -Europe, after the present climatical conditions were established, it -is doubtful if a family of children under ten years of age could have -lived through a single winter. We are not, therefore, surprised to find -that no more than four or five linguistic stocks are represented in -Europe, and that all of them, except the Basque, are believed, on good -evidence, to have been of comparatively late introduction. Even the -Basque is traced by some, with much probability, to a source in North -Africa. Of Northern America, east of the Rocky Mountains and north of -the tropics, the same may be said. The climate and the scarcity of food -in winter forbid us to suppose that a brood of orphan children could -have survived, except possibly, by a fortunate chance, in some favoured -spot on the shore of the Mexican Gulf, where shell-fish, berries, and -edible roots are abundant and easy of access. - -“But there is one region where Nature seems to offer herself as the -willing nurse and bountiful step-mother of the feeble and unprotected. -Of all countries on the globe, there is probably not one in which a -little flock of very young children would find the means of sustaining -existence more readily than in California. Its wonderful climate, mild -and equable beyond example, is well known. Mr. Cronise, in his volume -on the ‘Natural Wealth of California,’ tells us, that ‘the monthly mean -of the thermometer at San Francisco in December, the coldest month, is -50°; in September, the warmest month, 61°.’ And he adds:—‘Although -the State reaches to the latitude of Plymouth Bay on the north, the -climate, for its whole length, is as mild as that of the regions near -the topics. Half the months are rainless. Snow and ice are almost -strangers, except in the high altitudes. There are fully two hundred -cloudless days in every year. Roses bloom in the open air through -all seasons.’ Not less remarkable than this exquisite climate is the -astonishing variety of food, of kinds which seem to offer themselves -to the tender hands of children. Berries of many sorts—strawberries, -blackberries, currants, raspberries, and salmon-berries—are indigenous -and abundant. Large fruits and edible nuts on low and pendent boughs -may be said, in Milton’s phrase, to ‘hang amiable.’ Mr. Cronise -enumerates, among others, the wild cherry and plum, which ‘grow on -bushes;’ the barberry, or false grape (_Berberis herbosa_), a ‘low -shrub,’ which bears edible fruit; and the Californian horse-chestnut -(_Æsculus Californica_), ‘a low, spreading tree or shrub, seldom -exceeding fifteen feet high,’ which ‘bears abundant fruit much used -by the Indians.’ Then there are nutritious roots of various kinds, -maturing at different seasons. Fish swarm in the rivers, and are taken -by the simplest means. In the spring, Mr. Powers informs us, the -whitefish ‘crowd the creeks in such vast numbers that the Indians, -by simply throwing in a little brushwood to impede their motion, -can literally scoop them out.’ Shell-fish and grubs abound, and are -greedily eaten by the natives. Earthworms, which are found everywhere -and at all seasons, are a favourite article of diet. As to clothing, -we are told by the authority just cited that ‘on the plains all adult -males and all children up to ten or twelve went perfectly naked, while -the women wore only a narrow strip of deer-skin around the waist.’ Need -we wonder that, in such a mild and fruitful region, a great number -of separate tribes were found, speaking languages which a careful -investigation has classed in nineteen distinct linguistic stocks? - -“The climate of the Oregon coast region, though colder than that of -California, is still far milder and more equable than that of the -same latitude in the east; and the abundance of edible fruits, roots, -river-fish, and other food of easy attainment, is very great. A family -of young children, if one of them were old enough to take care of the -rest, could easily be reared to maturity in a sheltered nook of this -genial and fruitful land. We are not, therefore, surprised to find that -the number of linguistic stocks in this narrow district, though less -than in California, is more than twice as large as in the whole of -Europe, and that the greater portion of these stocks are clustered near -the Californian boundary.... - -“Some reminiscences of the parental speech would probably remain with -the older children, and be revived and strengthened as their faculties -gained force. Thus we may account for the fact, which has perplexed -all inquirers, that certain unexpected and sporadic resemblances, -both in grammar and in vocabulary, which can hardly be deemed purely -accidental, sometimes crop up between the most dissimilar languages.... - -“A glance at other linguistic provinces will show how aptly this -explanation of the origin of language-stocks everywhere applies. -Tropical Brazil is a region which combines perpetual summer with a -profusion of edible fruits and other varieties of food, not less -abundant than in California. Here, if anywhere, there should be a great -number of totally distinct languages. We learn on the best authority, -that of Baron J. J. von Tschudi, in the Introduction to his recent -work on the Khetshua Language, that this is the fact. He says:—‘I -possess a collection made by the well-known naturalist, J. Natterer, -during his residence of many years in Brazil, of more than a hundred -languages, lexically completely distinct, from the interior of Brazil.’ -And he adds:—‘The number of so-called isolated languages—that is, of -such as, according to our present information, show no relationship -to any other, and which therefore form distinct stocks of greater -or less extent—is in South America very large, and must, on an -approximate estimate, amount to many hundreds. It will perhaps be -possible hereafter to include many of them in larger families, but -there must still remain a considerable number for which this will not -be possible.’” - -I have quoted this hypothesis, as previously remarked, because it -appears to me philologically interesting; but whatever may be thought -of it by professional authorities, the evidence which the American -continent furnishes of a polygenetic and polytypic origin of the native -languages remains the same. And if there is good reason for concluding -in favour of polygenetic origins of different types as regards the -languages on that continent, of course the probability arises that -radical differences of structure among languages of the Old World -admit of being explained by their having been derived from similarly -independent sources.[164] - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -ROOTS OF LANGUAGE. - - -In the last chapter my treatment of the classification and phylogeny -of languages may have led the general reader to feel that philologists -display extraordinary differences of opinion with regard to certain -first principles of their science. I may, therefore, begin the present -chapter by reminding such a reader that I have hitherto been concerned -more with the differences of opinion than with the agreements. If one -takes a general view of the progress of philological science since -philology—almost in our own generation—first became a science, I -think he must feel much more impressed by the amount of certainty -which has been attained than by the amount of uncertainty which still -remains. And the uncertainty which does remain is due rather to a -backwardness of study than to differences of interpretation. When more -is known about the structure and mutual relations of the polysynthetic -tongues, it is probable that a better agreement will be arrived at -touching the relation of their common type to that of isolating -tongues on the one hand, and agglutinating on the other. But, be this -as it may, even as matters stand at present, I think we have more -reason to be surprised at the certainty which already attaches to the -principles of philology, than at the uncertainty which occasionally -arises in their applications to the comparatively unstudied branches of -linguistic growth. - -Furthermore, important as these still unsettled questions are from a -purely philological point of view, they are not of any great moment -from that of the evolutionist, as I have already observed. For, so -long as it is universally agreed that all the language-groups have -been products of a gradual development, it is, comparatively speaking, -immaterial whether the groups all stand to one another in a relation of -serial descent, or whether some of them stand to others in a relation -of collateral descent. That is to say, the evolutionist is under no -obligation to espouse either the monotypic or the polytypic theory of -the origin of language. Therefore, it will make no material difference -to the following discussion whether the reader feels disposed to -follow the doctrine, that all languages must have originated in such -monosyllabic isolations as we now meet with in a radical form of speech -like the Chinese; that they all originated in such polysynthetic -incapsulations as we now find in the numberless dialects of the -American Indians; or, lastly, and as I myself think much more probably, -that both these, and possibly other types of language-structure, are -all equally primitive. Be these things as they may, my discussion -will not be overshadowed by their uncertainty. For this uncertainty -has reference only to the _origin_ of the existing language-types as -independent or genetically allied: it in no way affects the certainty -of their subsequent _evolution_. Much as philologists may still -differ upon the mutual relations of these several language-types, -they all agree that “von der ersten Entstehung der Sprachwurzeln an -bis zur Bildung der volkommenen Flexionssprachen, wie des Sanskrit, -Griechischen, oder Deutschen, ist Alles in der Entwicklung der Sprache -verständlich.... Sobald nur die Wurzeln als die fertigen Bausteine der -Sprache einmal da sind, lässt sich Schritt für Schritt das Wachsthum -des Sprachgebäudes verfolgen.”[165] - -Therefore, having now said all that seems necessary to say on the -question of language-types, I will pass on to consider the information -that we possess on the subject of language-roots. - -First, let us consider the number of roots out of which languages -are developed—or, rather, let me say, the number of elementary -constituents into which the researches of philologists have been able -to reduce those languages which have been most closely studied. Of -course the probability—nay, the certainty—is that the actual number -of roots must in all cases be considerably less than philologists are -now able to prove. - -Chinese is composed of about five hundred separate words, each -being a monosyllable. In actual use, these five hundred root-words -are multiplied to over fifteen hundred by significant variety of -intonation; but the entire structure of this still living language is -made up of five hundred monosyllabic words. In the opinion of most -philologists we have here a survival of the root stage of language; but -in the opinion of some we have the remnants of erosion, or “phonetic -decay.”[166] This difference of opinion, however, is not a matter of -importance to us; and therefore I will not discuss it, further than to -say that on account of it I will not hereafter draw upon the Chinese -language for illustrations of “radical” utterance, except in so far as -philologists of all schools would allow as legitimate.[167] - -Hebrew has been reduced to about the same number of roots as -Chinese—Renan stating it in round numbers at five hundred.[168] But -without doubt this number would admit of being considerably reduced, if -inquiries were sufficiently extended to the whole Semitic family. - -According to Professor Skeat, English is entirely made up of 461 Aryan -roots, in combination with about twenty modifying constants.[169] The -remote progenitor, Sanskrit, has been estimated to present as many as -850 roots, or, according to Benfey, just about twice that number.[170] -On the other hand, Max Müller, as a result of more recent researches, -professes to have reduced the total number of Sanskrit roots to -121.[171] - -It is needless to give further instances. For these are enough to show -that, even if we were to regard the analytic powers of comparative -philology as adequate to resolve all the compounds of a language -into its primitive elements the estimate of Pott would probably be -high above the mark, when he states that on an average the roots of -a language may be taken at a thousand.[172] Seeing that Chinese only -contains in its whole vocabulary half that number of words, and that -both Hebrew and English have similarly yielded each about five hundred -radicals in the crucible of more modern research, I think we may safely -reduce the general estimate of Pott by one-half, and probably would -be nearer the truth if we were to do so by three-quarters, or more. -At all events, we may be satisfied that the total number of radicals -sufficient to feed the most luxuriant of languages is expressible in -three figures; and this, as we shall presently see, is enough for all -the purposes of my subsequent discussion. - -Passing on now from the question of number to that of character, we -have first to meet the question—What _are_ these roots? Are they the -actually primitive words of pre-historic languages, or are they what -Max Müller has aptly termed “phonetic types”? Here again we encounter -a difference of opinion among philologists. Thus, for instance, -Professor Whitney tells us that the Indo-European languages are all -descended from an original monosyllabic tongue, and, therefore, that -“our ancestors talked with one another in simple syllables, indicative -of ideas of prime importance, but wanting all designation of their -relations.”[173] On the other hand, it is objected to this view that -“such a language is a sheer impossibility;”[174] that “there could be -no hope of any mutual understanding” with a language restricted to -such isolated and general terms, &c.[175] On this side of the question -it is represented that “roots are the phonetic and significant types -discovered by the analysis of the comparative philologist as common to -a group of allied words;”[176] that “a root is the _core_ of a group -of allied words,”[177] “the naked kernel of a family of words.”[178] -Or, to adopt a simile previously used in another connection, we may -say that a root as now presented by the philologist is a composite -photograph (or _phonogram_) of a number of words, all belonging to the -same pre-historic language, and all closely allied in meaning. - -The difference of authoritative teaching thus exhibited is not a matter -of much importance for us. Nor, indeed, as we shall subsequently see, -is it a difference so great as may at first sight appear. For even -the phonetic-type theory does not doubt that all the aboriginal and -unknown words, out of the composition of which a root is now extracted, -must have been genetically allied with one another, and exhibited the -closeness of their kinship by a close similarity of sound. Therefore, -it does not make any practical difference whether we regard a root -as itself a primitive word, which was used in some such way as the -Chinese now use their monosyllabic terms; or whether we regard it as a -generalized expression of a group of cognate words, all closely allied -as to meaning. In fact, even so strong an adherent of the phonetic-type -theory as Professor Max Müller very clearly states this, where he says -that, although “the mere root, _quâ_ root, may be denied the dignity of -a word, as soon as a root is used for predication it becomes a word, -whether outwardly it is changed or not.”[179] - -Seeing, then, that this difference of opinion among philologists is -not one of great importance for us, I will henceforth disregard it. -And, as it will be conducive to brevity, if not also to clearness, I -will speak of roots as archaic words, although by so doing I shall not -intend to assume that they are more than phonetic types, or the nearest -approach we can make to the words out of which they were generated. - -We may next consider the kind of meanings which roots convey. -Antecedently we might form various anticipations on this head, such as -that they should be imitative of natural sounds, expressive of concrete -ideas, and so forth. As a matter of fact, we find that they are not -expressive of natural sounds; but, as far as we have now any means of -judging, quite arbitrary. Moreover, they are not expressive of concrete -or particular ideas; but always of abstract or general. Here, then, -to begin with, we have two facts of apparently great importance. And -they are both facts which, at first sight, seem to countenance the -view that, in its last resort, comparative philology fails to testify -to the natural origin of speech. But we must look into the matter -more closely, and, in order to do this most fairly, I will quote from -Professor Max Müller the 121 roots into which he analyzes the Sanskrit -language. This is the language which has been most carefully studied in -the present connection, and of all its students Professor Max Müller is -least open to any suspicion of inclining to the side of “Darwinism.” -The following is a list of what he calls “the 121 original concepts.” - - 1. Dig. - - 2. Plat, weave, sew, bind. - - 3. Crush, pound, destroy, waste, rub, smooth. - - 4. Sharpen. - - 5. Smear, colour, knead, harden. - - 6. Scratch. - - 7. Bite, eat. - - 8. Divide, share, eat. - - 9. Cut. - - 10. Gather, observe. - - 11. Stretch, spread. - - 12. Mix. - - 13. Scatter, strew. - - 14. Sprinkle, drip, wet. - - 15a. Shake, tremble, quiver, flicker. - - 15b. Shake, mentally, be angry, abashed, fearfully, etc. - - 16. Throw down, fall. - - 17. Fall to pieces. - - 18. Shoot, throw at. - - 19. Pierce, split. - - 20. Join, fight, check. - - 21. Tear. - - 22. Break, smash. - - 23. Measure. - - 24. Blow. - - 25. Kindle. - - 26. Milk, yield. - - 27. Pour, flow, rush. - - 28. Separate, free, leave, lack. - - 29. Glean. - - 30. Choose. - - 31. Cook, roast, boil. - - 32. Clean. - - 33. Wash. - - 34. Bend, bow. - - 35. Turn, roll. - - 36. Press, fix. - - 37. Squeeze. - - 38. Drive, thrust. - - 39. Push, stir, live. - - 40. Burst, gush, laugh, beam. - - 41. Dress. - - 42. Adorn. - - 43. Strip, remove. - - 44. Steal. - - 45. Check. - - 46. Fill, thrive, swell, grow - strong. - - 47. Cross. - - 48. Sweeten. - - 49. Shorten. - - 50. Thin, suffer. - - 51. Fat, stick, love. - - 52. Lick. - - 53. Suck, nourish. - - 54. Drink, swell. - - 55. Swallow, sip. - - 56. Vomit. - - 57. Chew, eat. - - 58. Open, extend. - - 59. Reach, strive, rule, have. - - 60. Conquer, take by violence, struggle. - - 61. Perform, succeed. - - 62. Attack, hurt. - - 63. Hide, drive. - - 64. Cover, embrace. - - 65. Bear, carry. - - 66. Can, be strong. - - 67. Show. - - 68. Touch. - - 69. Strike. - - 70. Ask. - - 71. Watch, observe. - - 72. Lead. - - 73. Set. - - 74. Hold, wield. - - 75. Give, yield. - - 76. Cough. - - 77. Thirsty, dry. - - 78. Hunger. - - 79. Yawn. - - 80. Spue. - - 81. Fly. - - 82. Sleep. - - 83. Bristle, dare. - - 84. Be angry, harsh. - - 85. Breathe. - - 86. Speak. - - 87. Seek. - - 88. Hear. - - 89. Smell, sniff. - - 90. Sweat. - - 91. Seethe, boil. - - 92. Dance. - - 93. Leap. - - 94. Creep. - - 95. Stumble. - - 96. Stick. - - 97. Burn. - - 98. Dwell. - - 99. Stand. - - 100. Sink, lie, fail. - - 101. Swing. - - 102. Hang down, lean. - - 103. Rise up, grow. - - 104. Sit. - - 105. Toil. - - 106. Weary, waste, slacken. - - 107. Rejoice, please. - - 108. Desire, love. - - 109. Wake. - - 110. Fear. - - 111. Cool, refresh. - - 112. Stink. - - 113. Hate. - - 114. Know. - - 115. Think. - - 116. Shine. - - 117. Run. - - 118. Move, go. - - 119a. Noise, inarticulate. - - 119b. Noise, musical. - - 120. Do. - - 121. Be. - -“These 121 concepts constitute the stock-in-trade with which I maintain -that every thought that has ever passed through the mind of India, so -far as it is known to us in its literature, has been expressed. It -would have been easy to reduce that number still further, for there are -several among them which could be ranged together under more general -concepts. But I leave this further reduction to others, being satisfied -as a first attempt with having shown how small a number of seeds may -produce, and has produced, the enormous intellectual vegetation that -has covered the soil of India from the most distant antiquity to the -present day.”[180] - -Now, the first thing which strikes one on reading this list is, that it -unquestionably justifies the inference of its compiler, namely, “if the -Science of Language has proved anything, it has proved that every term -which is applied to a particular idea or object (unless it be a proper -name) is already a general term.” But the next thing which immediately -strikes one is that the list, surprisingly short as it is, nevertheless -is much too long to admit of being interpreted as, in any intelligible -sense of the words, an inventory of “original concepts”—unless by -“original” we are to understand the ultimate results of philological -analysis. That all these concepts are not “original” in the sense of -representing the ideation of really primitive man, is abundantly proved -by two facts. - -The first is that fully a third of the whole number might be dispensed -with, and yet leave no important blank in the already limited resources -of the list for the purposes either of communication or reflection. To -yawn, to spew, to vomit, to sweat, and so on, are not forms of activity -of any such vital importance to the needs of a primitive community, -as to demand priority of naming by any aboriginal framers of language. -Moreover, as Professor Max Müller himself elsewhere observes, “even -these 121 concepts might be reduced to a much smaller number, if we -cared to do so. Any one who examines them carefully, will see how easy -it would have been to express to dig by to cut or to strike; to bite -by to cut or to crush; to milk by to squeeze; to glean by to gather; -to steal by to lift.... If we see how many special purposes can be -served by one root, as _I_, to go, or _Pas_, to fasten, the idea that a -dozen of roots might have been made to supply the whole wealth of our -dictionary, appears in itself by no means so ridiculous as is often -supposed.”[181] - -Again, in the second place, a large proportional number of the words -have reference to a grade of culture already far in advance of that -which has been attained by most existing savages. “Many concepts, such -as to cook, to roast, to measure, to dress, to adorn, belong clearly -to a later phase of civilized life.”[182] It might have been suitably -added that such “concepts” as to dig, to plant, to milk, &c., betoken -a condition of _pastoral_ life, which, as we know from abundant -evidence, is representative of a comparatively high level of social -evolution.[183] But if “many” of these concepts are thus unmistakably -referable to semi-civilized as distinguished from savage life, what -guarantee can we have that the remainder are “original”? Obviously we -can have no such guarantee; but, on the contrary, find the very best, -because _intrinsic_ evidence, that they belong to a more or less high -level of culture, far removed from that of primitive man. In other -words, we must conclude that these 121 concepts are “original” only in -the sense that they do not now admit of further analysis at the hands -of comparative philologists: they are not original in the sense of -bringing us within any measurable distance of the first beginnings of -articulate speech.[184] - -Nevertheless, they are of the utmost value and significance, in that -they bring us down to a period of presumably restricted ideation, -as compared with the enormous development since attained by various -branches of this Indo-European stock—so far, at least, as the growth -of language can be taken as a fair expression of such development. -They are likewise of the highest importance as showing in how -presumably short a period of time (comparatively speaking) so immense -and divergent a growth may proceed from such a simple and germ-like -condition of thought.[185] Lastly, they serve to show in a most -striking manner that the ideas represented, although all of a general -character, are nevertheless of the lowest degree of generality. -Scarcely any of them present us with evidence of reflective thought, -as distinguished from the naming of objects of sense-perception, or -of the simplest forms of activity which are immediately cognizable -as such.[186] In other words, few of these “original concepts” -rise much higher in the scale of ideation than the level to which -I have previously assigned what I have called “named recepts” or -“pre-concepts.” A dumb animal, or an infant, presents a full receptual -appreciation of the majority of actions which the catalogue includes; -and, therefore, so that a society of human beings can speak at all -(_i.e._ presents the power of naming their recepts), it is difficult -to see how they could have avoided a denotation of the more important -recepts which are here concerned. - -Another most interesting feature of a general kind which the list -presents is, that it is composed exclusively of verbs.[187] This -peculiarity of the ultimate known roots of all languages, which shows -them to have been expressive of actions and states as distinguished -from objects and qualities, is a peculiarity on which Professor Max -Müller lays much stress. But the inference which he draws from the -fact is clearly not justifiable. This inference is that, as every -root expresses “the consciousness of repeated acts, such as scraping, -digging, striking,” &c., the naming of actions, as distinguished from -objects, “must be considered as the first step in the formation of -concepts.” Now, in drawing this inference—and, indeed, throughout -all his works as far as I remember—Professor Max Müller has entirely -overlooked two most important considerations. First, as already -observed, that the roots in question are _demonstrably_ very far -from having been the original material of language as first coined -by primitive man; and, next, that whatever this original material -may have been, from the first there must have been a struggle for -existence among the really primitive roots—only those surviving which -were most fitted to survive as roots, _i.e._ as the parent stems of -subsequent word-formations. Now, it appears to me obvious enough that -archaic—though not necessarily aboriginal—words which were expressive -of actions, would have stood a better chance of surviving as roots than -those which may have been expressive of objects; first because they -were likely to have been more frequently employed, and next because -many of them must have lent themselves more readily to metaphorical -extension—_especially under a system of animistic thought_.[188] -And, if these things were so, there is nothing remarkable in words -significant of actions having alone survived as roots.[189] - -The consideration that it is only those words which were successful -in the struggle for existence that can have become the progenitors -of subsequent language—and therefore the only words that have been -handed down to us as roots—has a still more important bearing upon -another of Professor Max Müller’s generalizations. From the fact -that all his 121 Sanskrit roots are expressive of “general” ideas -(by which term he of course includes what I call generic ideas), he -concludes that from its very earliest origin speech must have been -thus expressive of general ideas; or, in other words, that human -language could not have begun by the naming of particulars: from -the first it must have been concerned with the naming of “notions.” -Now, of course, if any vestige of real evidence could be adduced -to show that this “must have been” the case, most of the foregoing -chapters of the present work would not have been written. For the -whole object of these chapters has been to show, that on psychological -grounds it is abundantly intelligible how the conceptual stage of -ideation may have been gradually evolved from the receptual—the -power of forming general, or truly conceptual ideas, from the power -of forming particular and generic ideas. But if it could be shown—or -even rendered in any degree presumable—that this distinctly human -power of forming truly general ideas arose _de novo_ with the first -birth of articulate speech, assuredly my whole analysis would be -destroyed: the human mind would be shown to present a quality -different in origin—and, therefore, in kind—from all the lower -orders of intelligence: the law of continuity would be interrupted -at the terminal phase: an impassable gulf would be fixed between the -brute and the man. As a matter of fact, however, there is not only no -vestige of any such proof or even presumption; but, as we shall see in -our two following chapters, there is uniform and overwhelming proof -of precisely the opposite doctrine—proof, indeed, so uniform and -overwhelming that it has long ago induced all other philologists to -accept this opposite doctrine as one of the axioms of their science. -Leaving, however, this proof to be adduced in its proper place, I have -now merely to point out the futility of the evidence on which Professor -Max Müller relies. - -This evidence consists merely in fact that the “121 original -concepts,” which are embodied in the roots of Aryan speech, are -expressive of “general ideas.” Now, this argument might be worth -considering if there were the smallest reason to suppose that in these -roots of Aryan speech we possess the aboriginal elements of language as -first spoken by man. But as we well know that this is immeasurably far -from being the case, the whole argument collapses. The mere fact that -many words which have survived as roots are words expressive of general -ideas, is no more than we might have antecedently expected. Remembering -that it is a favourable condition to a word surviving as a root that it -should prove itself a prolific parent of other words, obviously it is -those words which were expressive of ideas presenting some degree of -generality that would have had the best chance of thus coming down to -us, even from the comparatively high level of culture which, as we have -seen, is testified to by “the 121 original concepts.” Of course, as I -have already said, the case would have been different if any one were -free to suppose, even as a merely logical possibility, that this level -of culture represented that of primitive man when he first began to -employ articulate speech. But any such supposition is beyond the range -of rational discussion. The 121 concepts themselves yield overwhelming -evidence of belonging to a time _immeasurably remote_ from that of any -speechless progenitor of _Homo sapiens_; and in the enormous interval -(whatever it may have been) many successive generations of words must -_certainly_ have flourished and died.[190] - -These remarks are directed to the comparatively few instances of -general ideas which, as a matter of fact, the list of “121 concepts” -presents. As already observed, the great majority of these “concepts” -exhibit no higher degree of “generality” than belongs to what I have -called a “pre-concept,” _i.e._ a “named recept.” But precisely the -same considerations apply to both. For, even supposing that a named -recept was originally a word used only to designate a “particular” as -distinguished from a “generic” idea, obviously it would have stood but -a poor chance of surviving as a root unless it had first undergone a -sufficient degree of extension to have become what I call receptually -connotative. A proper name, for instance, could not, as such, become -a root. Not until it had become extended to other persons or things -of a like class could it have secured a chance of surviving as a -root in the struggle for existence. As a matter of fact, I think it -most probable—not only from general considerations, but also from a -study of the spontaneous names first coined in “baby-language,”—that -aboriginal speech was concerned simultaneously with the naming both of -particular and of generic ideas—_i.e._ of individual percepts and of -recepts. It will be remembered that in Chapter III., while treating of -the Logic of Recepts, I dealt at some length with this subject. Here, -therefore, it will be sufficient to quote the conclusion to which my -analysis led. - -“A generic idea is generic because the particular ideas of which -it is composed present such obvious points of resemblance that -they spontaneously fuse together in consciousness; but a general -idea is general for precisely the opposite reason—namely, because -the points of resemblance which it has seized are obscured from -immediate perception, and therefore could never have fused together in -consciousness but for the aid of intentional abstraction, or of the -power of a mind knowingly to deal with its own ideas as ideas. In other -words, the kind of classification with which recepts are concerned is -that which lies nearest to the kind of classification with which all -processes of so called perceptual inference depend—such as mistaking a -bowl for a sphere. But the kind of classification with which concepts -are concerned is that which lies furthest from this purely automatic -grouping of perceptions. Classification there doubtless is in both -cases; but in the one order it is due to the closeness of resemblances -in an act of perception, while in the other it is due to their -remoteness.”[191] - -Of course it goes without saying that this “closeness of resemblances -in an act of perception” may be due either to similarities of -sense-perceptions themselves (as when the colour of a ruby is seen -to resemble that of “pigeon’s blood”), or to frequency of their -associations in experience (as when a sea-bird groups together in one -recept the sundry sensations which go to constitute its perception of -water, with its generic classification of water as a medium in which -it is safe to dive). Now, if we remember these things, can we possibly -wonder that the palæontology of speech should prove early roots to -have been chiefly expressive of “generic” as distinguished from -“general” ideas on the one hand, or “particular” ideas on the other? -By failing to observe this real distinction between classification -as receptual and conceptual—_i.e._ as given immediately in the act -of perception itself, or as elaborated of set purpose through the -agency of introspective thought, Professor Max Müller founds his whole -argument on another and an unreal distinction: he everywhere regards -the bestowing of a name as in itself a sufficient proof of conceptual -thought, and therefore constitutes the faculty of denotation, -equally with that of denomination, the distinctive criterion of a -self-conscious mind. But, as we have now so repeatedly seen, such -is certainly not the case. Actions and processes so habitual, or so -immediately apparent to perception, as those with which the great -majority of these “121 concepts” are concerned, do not betoken any -order of ideation higher than the pre-conceptual, in virtue of which -a young child is able to give expression to its higher receptual life -prior to the advent of self-consciousness. Or, as Geiger tersely -says:—“In enzelnen Fällen ist die Entstehung von Gattungsbegriffe aus -Mangel an Unterscheidung gleichwohl kaum zu bezweifeln.”[192] - -Again, if we look to the still closer analogy furnished by savages, we -meet with a still further corroboration of this view. For instance, -Professor Sayce remarks that in “all savage and barbarous dialects, -while individual objects of sense have a superabundance of names, -general terms are correspondingly rare.” And he gives a number of -remarkable illustrations.[193] - -In view of these considerations, my only wonder is that these 120 -root-words do not present _better_ evidence of conceptual thought. I -have already given my reasons for refusing to suppose that we have here -to do with the “original” framers of spoken language; and looking to -the comparatively high level of culture which the people in question -must have reached, it seems remarkable that the root-words of their -language should only in so few instances have risen above the level -of pre-conceptual utterance.[194] This, however, only shows how -comparatively small a part self-conscious reflection need play in the -practical life of uncultured man: it does not show that the people -in question were remarkably deficient in this distinctively human -faculty. Archdeacon Farrar tells us that he has observed the whole -conversational vocabulary of certain English labourers not to exceed -a hundred words, and probably further observation would have shown -that the great majority of these were employed without conceptual -significance. Therefore, if these labourers had had to coin their own -words, it is probable that, without exception, their language would -have been destitute of any terms betokening more than a pre-conceptual -order of ideation. Nevertheless, these men must have been capable, -in however undeveloped a degree, of truly conceptual ideation: and -this proves how unsafe it would be to argue from the absence of -distinctively conceptual terms to the poverty of conceptual faculty -among any people whose root-words may have come down to us—although, -no doubt, in such a case we appear to be getting within a comparatively -short distance of the origin of this faculty. - -The point, however, now is that really aboriginal, and therefore -purely denotative names, must certainly have been “generic” as well as -“particular”: they must have been the names of recepts as well as of -percepts, of actions as well as of objects and qualities. Moreover, it -is equally certain that among this aboriginal assemblage of denotative -names as particular and generic, only those belonging to the latter -class could have stood much chance of surviving as roots. In other -words, no aboriginal name could have survived as a root until it had -acquired some greater or less degree of receptual and, therefore, of -connotative value. Hence the fact that the ultimate result of the -philological analysis of any language is that of reducing the language -to a certain small number of roots, and the fact that all these roots -are expressive of general and generic ideas,—these facts in themselves -yield no support whatever to the doctrine, either that these roots -were themselves the aboriginal elements of language, or, _a fortiori_, -that the aboriginal elements of language were expressive of general -ideas.[195] - - * * * * * - -And this conclusion involves another of scarcely less importance. A -great deal of discussion has been expended over the question as to -whether, or how far, aboriginal language was indebted to the principle -of onomatopœia, or the imitation by articulate names of sounds -obviously distinctive of the objects or actions named. Of course, on -evolutionary principles we should be strongly inclined to suppose that -aboriginal language must have been largely assisted in its formation -by such intentional imitation of natural sounds, seeing that of all -forms of vocal expression they admit of most readily conveying an idea -of the object or action named. And the same applies to the so-called -interjectional element in word-formation, or the utilization as names -of sounds which are naturally expressive of states of human feeling. -On the other hand, contempt has been poured upon this theory as an -adequate explanation of the first beginnings of articulate speech, -on the ground that it is not supported either by history[196] or by -the results of philogenetic inquiry.[197] It is, however, forgotten -by those who argue on this side that names of onomatopoetic origin -must always be, in the first instance, particular; that so long as -they remain particular (as, for example, is the case with our word -“cuckoo”), they cannot have much chance of surviving as roots; that -in proportion as they increase their chances of survival as roots by -becoming more general, they must do so by becoming more conventional; -and, therefore, that the vast majority of roots, even if aboriginally -they were of onomatopoetic origin, must necessarily have had that -origin obscured. - -In order to illustrate each and all of these general considerations, -let us turn to the example of our own “baby-language.” The fact that -such language presents so large an element of onomatopœia in itself -furnishes a strong presumption that what is now seen to constitute so -important a principle in the infancy of the individual (notwithstanding -the hereditary tendency to speak), must have constituted at least as -important a principle in the infancy of the race. But the point now is, -that if we mark the connotative extension of any such nursery word, -we may find that just in proportion as it becomes general does its -onomatopoetic origin become obscure. For instance, the late Mr. Darwin -gave me the following particulars with regard to a grandchild of his -own, who was then living in his house. I quote the account from notes -taken at the time. - -“The child, who was just beginning to speak, called a duck ‘quack’; -and, by special association, it also called water ‘quack.’ By an -appreciation of the resemblance of qualities, it next extended the term -‘quack’ to denote all birds and insects on the one hand, and all fluid -substances on the other. Lastly, by a still more delicate appreciation -of resemblance, the child eventually called all coins ‘quack,’ because -on the back of a French sou it had once seen the representation of an -eagle. Hence, to the child, the sign ‘quack,’ from having originally -had a very specialized meaning, became more and more extended in -its signification, until it now serves to designate such apparently -different objects as ‘fly,’ ‘wine,’ and ‘coin.’” - -Now, if any such process of extending or generalizing aboriginally -onomatopoetic terms were to have taken place among the primitive -framers of human speech, how hopeless would be the task of the -philologist who should now attempt to find the onomatopoetic root! -Yet, as above observed, not only may we be perfectly certain that -such extensions of aboriginal onomatopoetic terms must have taken -place, if any such terms were ever in existence at all (and this -cannot be doubted), but also that it must have been almost a necessary -condition to the survival of an onomatopoetic term as a root that -such an extension of its meaning should have taken place. In other -words, we can see very good reason to conclude that, as a rule, only -those instances of primitive onomatopœia can have survived as roots, -which must long ago have had their onomatopoetic origin hopelessly -obscured. So that nowhere so much as in this case should we be prepared -to entertain the general principle of philological research, that, as -Goethe graphically states it, the original meanings of words become -gradually worn out, like the image and superscription of a coin.[198] - -In view of such considerations, my only wonder is that this origin -admits of being traced so often as it does, even as far back as the -comparatively recent times when a pastoral people coined the terms -which afterwards constituted the roots of Sanskrit. _Kas_, to cough; -_kshu_, to sneeze; _proth_, to snort; _ma_, to bleat, and not a -few others, are conceded, even by Professor Max Müller, to be of -obviously imitative origin. In the present connection, however, it -is of interest to notice how this authority deals with such cases. He -says:—“Not one of them is of any importance in helping us to account -for real words in Sanskrit. Most of them have had no offspring at all, -others have had a few descendants, mostly sterile. Their history shows -clearly how far the influence of onomatopœia may go, and if once we -know its legitimate sphere, we shall be less likely to wish to extend -it beyond its proper limits.”[199] - -Now, under our present point of view we can see a very good reason -why this element of sterility should have attached to these roots of -Sanskrit whose onomatopoetic origin still admits of being clearly -traced: it is just because they failed to be extended that their -imitative source continues to be apparent.[200] But suppose, for the -sake of illustration, that any one of them had been extended, and what -would have happened? If _ma_, to bleat, had been metaphorically applied -to the crying of a child, and had then become more and more habitually -used in this new signification, while the original meaning became -more and more obsolete, it might have taken the place of any such -root as _bhi_, to fear; _ish_, to love, &c.; and in all the progeny -of words which in this its conventional use it might subsequently -have generated, no trace of imitative origin could now have been -met with—any more than such an origin can be detected in the sound -“quack,” as used by the above-mentioned child to designate a shilling. - -Several other considerations to the same general effect might be -adduced. But, to mention only some of the more important, Steinthal -points out that imitative utterance differs widely even among -different races of existing men, so that the onomatopoetic words -of one race do not convey any imitative suggestion to the minds of -another.[201] Similarly, Professor Sayce insists, “it is not necessary -that the imitation of natural sounds should be an exact one; indeed, -that it never can be: all that is wanted is that the imitation -should be recognizable by those addressed. The same natural sound, -consequently, may strike the ear of different persons very differently, -and so be represented in articulate speech in a strangely varying -manner.”[202] Another very good illustration of the same point is to -be found in the names for a grasshopper in different languages. After -giving a number, Archdeacon Farrar remarks that obviously they are “all -imitative: yet how immensely varied by the fantasies of imitation! How -is this to be explained? Simply by the fact to which it is so often -necessary to recur, that words are not mere imitations, but subjective -echoes and reproductions—repercussions which are modified both -organically and ideally—which have moreover been immensely blurred and -disintegrated by the lapse of ages.”[203] - -But perhaps the best illustration that has been given of this point is -in the different words which obtain in different languages as names for -Thunder. Two independent treatises have been written on the subject, -one by Grimm,[204] and the other by Pott.[205] While in nearly all the -languages the principle of imitation is more or less clearly apparent, -the greatest diversities occur among the resulting sounds.[206] In this -connection, also, I may adduce yet one further consideration. In his -_Introduction to the Science of Language_, Professor Sayce argues on -several grounds that, when articulation first began, the articulate -sounds were probably in large part dependent for their meaning on the -gestures with which they were accompanied. Consequently, aboriginal -root-words, even supposing that any such had come down to us, and that -their origin were imitative, inasmuch as their imitative value may thus -have in large part depended on appropriately accompanying gestures, -their imitative source would long ago have become obscured. - -In view of all these considerations, therefore, I cannot deem the -merely negative evidence against the onomatopoetic origin of articulate -sounds as of any value at all. Even if we had any reason to suppose -that philological analysis were in possession of the really aboriginal -commencements of spoken language, we should still be unable reasonably -to conclude against their imitative origin, merely on the ground that -in our greatly altered circumstances of life and of mind we are not now -able to trace the imitations. - -As a matter of fact, however, the evidence which we have on the subject -is not all negative. On the contrary, there is an overwhelming body of -actual and unquestionable proof of the imitative origin of very many -words in all languages—especially those which are spoken by savages, -and are known from their general structure to be in a comparatively -undeveloped state. The evidence being much too copious for quotation, I -must content myself with referring to the excellent and most forcible -epitome which is given of it by Archdeacon Farrar in his works on the -_Origin of Language_ and _Chapters on Language_.[207] The foregoing -remarks, therefore, which I have made on the negative side of the -question, are merely intended to show that the element of onomatopœia -must have entered into the composition of aboriginal speech much more -largely than philologists are now able to prove, notwithstanding that -they have been able to prove how immensely important an element it has -been in this respect. The only wonder is, that when so many causes -have been at work in obscuring and corroding the originally imitative -significance of words, this significance should still admit of being -traced in all languages—even the most highly conventionalized—to the -very large extent in which it does. - -The hostility which Professor Max Müller has displayed to the -onomatopoetic theory of the origin of language is the more remarkable, -because in his latest work he has enthusiastically embraced a special -branch of this theory, which has been put forward by M. Noiré. -This special branch of the onomatopoetic theory is that articulate -sign-making had its origin in sounds which are made by bodies of men -when engaged in some common occupation. When sailors row, soldiers -march, builders co-operate in pulling or in lifting, &c., there is -always a tendency to give vent to appropriate sounds, which the nature -of the occupation usually breaks up into rhythmic periods. “These -utterances, noises, shouts, hummings, or songs are a kind of natural -reaction against the inward disturbance caused by muscular effort. -They are the almost involuntary vibrations of the voice, corresponding -to the more or less regular movements of our whole bodily frame.” The -hypothesis, therefore, is that sounds thus naturally evolved, and -differing with different occupations, would sooner or later come to be -conventionally used as the names of these different occupations. And, -if thus used habitually, they would be virtually the same as words, -inasmuch as they would not merely admit of immediate understanding -on the part of others, but, what is even of more importance, they -would, by the mere fact of such conventional usage of names, elevate -what had previously been but a receptual appreciation of an act into a -pre-conceptual designation of it. - -Now, I say that this hypothesis, whatever may be thought as to its -probability, is clearly but a special branch of the general theory -of onomatopœia. So that primitive names were intentionally imitative -of natural sounds, for all the purposes of onomatopoetic theory it -makes no difference whether such sounds were made by natural objects -or by man himself. Nor, of the natural sounds which were made by man -himself, does it in any way affect this theory whether the naturally -human sounds were “interjectional” only, “co-operative” only, or -sometimes one and sometimes the other. If, following the example set -by Professor Max Müller, I may be allowed to designate Noiré’s special -branch of the onomatopoetic theory as the Yeo-he-ho theory, it appears -to me impossible to distinguish it in any essential particular from -those other branches which are called by him the Bow-wow and Pooh-pooh -theories—_i.e._ the imitative and the interjectional. Yet he has -become as ardent a supporter of the one branch as he was a vehement -opponent of the others.[208] - -For my own part, I think it highly probable that there is an element -of truth in the Yeo-he-ho theory, although I deem it in the last -degree improbable that imitative sounds of this kind constituted the -_only_ source of aboriginal speech. At the most, it seems to me, this -branch of onomatopœia can be accredited with supporting but a small -proportional part of aboriginal language-growth. Nevertheless, as -already observed, I can have no doubt at all that the principle of -onomatopœia in all its branches has been the most important of all -principles which were concerned in the first genesis of speech. That is -to say, I fully agree with the almost unanimous voice of philological -authority on this matter, which may be tersely expressed by allowing -Professor Whitney to act as spokesman. - -“Beyond all reasonable question, there was a positively long period -of purely imitative signs, and a longer one of mixed imitative and -traditional ones, the latter gradually gaining upon the former, before -the present condition of things was reached, when the production of new -signs by imitation is only sporadic and of the utmost rarity, and all -language-signs besides are traditional, their increase in any community -being solely caused by variation and combination, and by borrowing from -other communities.”[209] - -But now, having thus stated as emphatically as possible my acceptance -of the theory of onomatopœia, I have to express dissent from many of -its more earnest advocates where they represent that it is necessarily -the only theory to be entertained. In other words, I do not agree with -the dogma that articulate speech cannot possibly have had any source, -or sources, other than that which is supplied by vocal imitations.[210] -For, on merely antecedent grounds, I can see no adequate reason for -arbitrarily excluding the possibility of arbitrary invention. If even -civilized children, who are not under the discipline of the “mother -of invention,” will coin a language of their own in which the element -of onomatopœia is barely traceable;[211] and if uneducated deaf-mutes -will spontaneously devise articulate sounds which are necessarily -destitute of any imitative origin;[212] I do not see why it should be -held antecedently impossible that primitive man can have found any -other means of word-formation than that which is supplied by mimicry. -Therefore, while I fully agree with Professor Wundt in holding that -the question before us is one to be dealt with by psychology rather -than philology (seeing that language cannot record the conditions of -its own birth, and that so many causes have been at work to obliterate -aboriginal onomatopœia), I cannot follow him where he argues that -on grounds of psychology there is no room for any other inference -than that the principle of onomatopœia in its widest sense must have -constituted the sole origin of significant articulation.[213] - -We have already seen that even the most imitative of vocalists, the -talking birds, will invent wholly arbitrary sounds as denotative -names,[214] and it would be psychologically absurd to suppose that -they are superior to what primitive man must have been in the matter -of finding expedients for semiotic utterance. Again, the clicks of -Hottentots and Bushmen, whatever we suppose their origin to have been, -certainly cannot have had that origin in onomatopœia; and no less -certainly, as Professor Sayce remarks, they still survive to show how -the utterances of speechless man could be made to embody and convey -ideas.[215] Lastly, on the general principle that the development of -the individual furnishes information touching the development of the -race, it is highly significant that the _hitherto speechless_ child -will spontaneously use arbitrary sounds (both articulate and otherwise) -whereby to denotate habitual recepts. And even after it has begun to -learn the use of actual words, arbitrary additions are frequently -made to its vocabulary which defy any explanation at the hands of -onomatopœia—not only, as in the cases above alluded to, where they are -left to themselves, but even in cases where they are in the closest -contact with language as spoken by their elders. I could quote many -instances of this fact; but it will be enough to refer to one already -given on page 144 (foot-note). When, however, these spontaneous efforts -are not controlled by constant association with elders, but fostered -by children of about the same age being left much together, the -remarkable consequence previously alluded to arises—namely, a newly -devised language which depends but in small part upon the principle -of onomatopœia, and is therefore wholly unintelligible to all but its -inventors.[216] - -I have now briefly stated all the main facts and considerations -which appear to me worth stating, both for and against the theory of -onomatopœia. And, having done this, I wish in conclusion to make it -clear that the matter is not one which seriously affects the theory of -evolution. To the philologist, no doubt, the question as to how far -the element of onomatopœia entered into the formation of aboriginal -speech is a really important question, so that, as Geiger says, -“Diess ist die gemeinsame Frage, und die antwort wird auf der einen -Seite von einem inneren Zusammenhang zwischen je einem Laut und dem -entsprechenden Begriffe, auf der andern aus Willkür und Uebereinkunft -hergeleitet.”[217] But the question is one which the evolutionist may -view with indifference. Whether words were all originally dependent -on an inherent connection between every sound they made and the idea -thereby expressed, or whether they were all due to arbitrary invention, -in either case the evolutionist may see that they can equally well have -come into existence as the natural products of a natural psychogenesis. -And, _a fortiori_, as an evolutionist, he need not greatly concern -himself with any further question as to the relative degrees in which -imitation and invention may have entered into the composition of -primitive speech. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY. - - -We are now in a position to consider certain matters which are of high -importance in relation to the subject of the present work. In earlier -chapters I have had occasion to show that the whole stress of the -psychological distinction between man and brute must be laid—and, in -point of fact, has been laid by all competent writers who are against -me—on the distinctively human faculty of judgment. Moreover, I have -shown that, by universal consent, this faculty is identical with that -of predication. Any mind that is able, in the strict psychological -signification of the term, to judge, is also able to predicate, and -_vice versâ_. I claim, indeed, to have conclusively shown that certain -writers have been curiously mistaken in their analysis of predication. -These mistakes on their part, however, do not relieve me of the -burden of explaining the rise of predication; and I have sought to -discharge the burden by showing how the faculty must have been given -in germ so soon as the denotative stage of sign-making passed into the -connotative, and thus furnished the condition to bringing into contact, -or _apposition_, the names of objects and the names of qualities or -actions. The discussion of this important matter, however, has so far -proceeded on grounds of psychological analysis alone. The point has -now arrived when we may turn upon the subject the independent light -of philological analysis. Whereas we have hitherto considered, on -grounds of mental science only, what _must have been_ the genesis of -predication—supposing predication to have had a genesis,—we have -next to ascertain whether our deduction admits of corroboration by any -inductive evidence supplied by the science of language, as to what this -genesis _actually was_. - -And here I had better say at once that the results of philological -science will be found to carry us back to an even more primitive state -of matters than any which I have hitherto contemplated. For, so long -as I was restricted to psychological analysis, I was obliged to follow -my opponents where they take language as it now exists. In order to -argue with them at all upon these grounds, it was necessary for me to -consider what they had said on the philosophy of predication; and, in -order to do this, it was further necessary that I should postpone for -independent treatment those results of philological inquiry which they -have everywhere ignored. But now we have come to the place where we -can afford to abandon psychological analysis altogether, and take our -stand upon the still surer ground of what I have already termed the -palæontological record of mental evolution as this has actually been -preserved in the stratified deposits of language. Now, when we do this, -we shall find that hitherto we have not gone so far back in tracing the -genesis of conceptual out of receptual ideation as in point of fact we -are able to go on grounds of the most satisfactory evidence. - -Up to this time, then, I have been meeting my opponents on their own -assumptions, and one of these assumptions has been that language must -always have existed as we now know it—at least to the extent of -comprising words which admit of being built up into propositions to -express the semiotic intention of the speaker. But this assumption -is well known by philologists to be false. As a matter of fact, -language did not begin with any of our later-day distinctions between -nouns, verbs, adjectives, prepositions, and the rest: it began as the -undifferentiated protoplasm of speech, out of which all these “parts -of speech” had afterwards to be developed by a prolonged course of -gradual evolution.” Die Sprache ist nicht stückweis order atomistisch; -sie ist gleich in allen ihren Theilen als Ganzes und demnach organisch -entstanden.”[218] - -This highly general and most important fact is usually stated as it -was, I believe, first stated by the anthropologist Waitz, namely, -that “the unit of language is not the word, but the sentence;”[219] -and, therefore, that historically the sentence preceded the word. -Or, otherwise and less ambiguously expressed, every word was -originally itself a proposition, in the sense that of and by itself -it conveyed a statement. Of course the more that a single word thus -assumed the functions now discharged by several words when built -into a proposition, the more generalized—that is to say, the less -defined—must have been its meaning. The sentence or proposition as -we now have it represents what may be termed a psychological division -of labour as devolving upon its component parts: subject-words, -attributive-words, qualifying-words indicative of time, place, agent, -instrument, and so forth, are now all so many different organs -of language, which are set apart for the performance of as many -different functions of language. The life of language under this its -fully evolved form is, therefore, much more complex, and capable of -much more refined operations, than it was while still in the wholly -undifferentiated condition which we have now to contemplate. - -In order to gain a clear conception of this protoplasmic condition of -language, we had better first take an example of it as it is presented -to our actual observation in the child which is just beginning to -speak. For instance, as Professor Max Müller points out, “if a child -says ‘Up,’ that _up_ is, to his mind, noun, verb, adjective, all in -one. If an English child says ‘Ta,’ that _ta_ is both noun (thanks), -and a verb (I thank you). Nay, even if a child learns to speak -grammatically, it does not yet think grammatically; it seems, in -speaking, to wear the garments of its parents, though it has not yet -grown into them.”[220] - -Again, as Professor Friedrich Müller says, “the child’s word _Ba-ba_, -sleep, does not mean sleep only, as a particular kind of repose, but -rather also all the circumstances which appertain to sleep, such as -cot, bed, bolster, bed-clothes, &c.[221] It likewise and indifferently -means, sleeping, sleepy, sleeper, &c., and may stand for any variety of -propositions, such as “I am sleepy,” “I want to go to sleep,” “He is -asleep,” &c. - -Of course innumerable other illustrations might be given; but these -are enough to show what is meant by a “sentence-word.” The next thing -we have to notice is the manner in which a young child particularizes -the meanings of its sentence-words, so as to limit their highly generic -significance _per se_, and thus to make them convey the special -significance intended. Briefly, the one and only means which the child -has of doing this is by the employment of tone and gesture. Here the -suiting of the action to the word is a necessary condition to semiotic -utterance; the more primitive forms of sign-making are the needful -supplements to these commencements of higher forms. And not only so; -they are likewise in large part the parents of these higher forms. It -is by pointing (_i.e._ falling back on what I have called the earliest -or “indicative stage” of language) that a child is able to signify the -place, agent, instrument, &c., to which it requires a sentence-word to -apply; and thus we catch our first glimpse of the highly important fact -that the earliest indications of grammar are given by the simultaneous -use of sentence-words and gesture-signs. - -It will now be my object to prove, that in the history of the race -spoken language began in the form of sentence-words; that grammar -is the child of gesture; and, consequently, that predication is but -the adult form of the self-same faculty of sign-making, which in its -infancy we know as indication. Being myself destitute of authority in -matters philological, I will everywhere rely upon the agreement of -recognized leaders of the science. - -Bunsen, I believe, was the first to point out that in Egyptian there -is no formal distinction between noun, adjective, verb, or particle; -such a word as _anh_, for instance, meaning indifferently, life, alive, -to live, lively, &c.[222] Similarly, in Chinese “the word can still be -used indifferently as a noun, a verb, an adverb, or the sign of a case, -much like such English words as silver, and picture, and its place in -the sentence alone determines in what sense it shall be construed. -This is an excellent illustration of the early days of speech, when -the sentence-words contained within themselves all the several parts -of speech at once—all that was needed for a complete sentence; and it -was only by bringing them into contact and contrast [i.e. _apposition_] -with other sentence-words, that they came to be restricted in their -meaning and use, and to be reduced to mere ‘words.’”[223] - -Later on I will give abundant evidence of a similar state of matters -in the case of other existing languages presenting a low order of -development—especially those of savages. But perhaps it is even -of more importance to prove that the most highly developed of all -languages—namely, the Indo-European group—still bears unmistakable -evidence of having passed through this primitive phase. This is a -statement which it would be easy to substantiate by any number of -quotations; but I will only call the testimony of one witness in the -person of Professor Max Müller, whose evidence on this point may be -regarded as that of an opponent. - -“Nothing, it is true, can exist in language except what is a sentence, -_i.e._ that conveys a meaning; but for that very reason it ought -to have been perceived that every word must originally have been a -sentence. The mere root, _quâ_ root, cannot be called a sentence, and -in that sense a mere root may be denied the dignity of a word. But as -soon as a root is used for predication, it becomes a word, whether -outwardly it is changed or not. What in Chinese is effected by position -or by tone, namely, the adaptation of a root to serve the purposes of -words, is in the Aryan languages achieved by means of suffixes and -terminations, though often also by change of tone. We saw that, in an -earlier stage, the Aryan languages, too, could raise a root into a -word, without the aid of suffixes, and that, for instance, _yudh_, to -fight, could be used in the five senses of the act of fighting, the -agent of fighting, the instrument of fighting, the place of fighting, -and the result of fighting. For the sake of distinction, however, as -soon as the necessity began to be felt, the Aryan language introduced -derivative elements, mostly demonstrative or pronominal.” - -“The imperative may truly be called the most primitive sentence, and it -is important to observe how little in many languages it deviates from -what has been fixed upon as the true form of a root ... _va_, weave, -whether as a reminder or as a command, would have as much right to be -called a sentence as when we say, ‘Work,’ _i.e._ ‘Let us work.’ ... -From the use of a root in the imperative, or in the form of a general -assertion, there is a very easy transition to its employment in other -senses and for other purposes.... A master requiring his slaves to -labour, and promising them their food in the evening, would have no -more to say than ‘Dig—Feed,’ and this would be quite as intelligible -as ‘Dig, and you shall have food,’ or, as we now say, ‘If you dig, you -shall have food.’”[224] - -Thus we may lay it down as a general doctrine or well-substantiated -principle of philological research, that “Language begins with -sentences; not with single words;”[225] or that originally every -word in and of itself required to convey a meaning, after the manner -of the early utterances of children. “The sentence is the only unit -which language can know, and the ultimate starting-point of all our -linguistic researches.... If the sentence is the unit of significant -speech, it is evident that all individual words must once have been -sentences; that is to say, when first used they must each have implied -or represented a sentence.”[226] - -“The making of words as distinct from sentences was a long and -laborious process, and there are many languages, like those of North -America, in which the process has hardly yet begun. A dictionary is the -result of reflection, and ages must elapse before a language can enter -upon its reflective stage.”[227] - -Or, to give only one more quotation, as Professor Max Müller says, “it -is difficult for us to think in Chinese, or in any radical language, -without transferring to it our categories of thought. But if we watch -the language of a child, which is really Chinese spoken in English, -we see that there is a form of thought, and of language, perfectly -rational and intelligible to those who have studied it, in which, -nevertheless, the distinction between noun and verb, nay, between -subject and predicate, is not yet realized.”[228] - -Starting, then, from this undifferentiated condition of language, let -us next see how the “parts of speech” became evolved. - -There appears to be no doubt that one of the earliest parts of -speech to become differentiated was the pronoun. Moreover, all the -pronouns (or “pronominal elements”) as originally differentiated -were indistinguishable from what we should now call adverbs; and -they were all concerned with denoting relations of place.[229] No -exception to this general statement can be made even as regards the -personal pronouns. “_Hic_, _iste_, _ille_, are notoriously a sort -of correlatives to _ego_, _tu_, _sui_, and, if the custom of the -languages had allowed it, might, on every occasion, be substituted -for them.”[230] Now, there is very good reason to conclude that these -pronominal adverbs, or adverbial pronouns, were in the first instance -what may be termed articulate translations of gesture-signs—_i.e._ -of a pointing to place-relations. _I_ being equivalent to _this one_, -_he_ or _she_ or _it_ to _that one_, &c., we find it easy to supply -the indicative gestures out of which these denotative terms arose; and -although we are not now able to supply the phonetic source of these -highly ancient “pronominal” or “demonstrative elements,” it is easy to -imagine that they may have arisen in the same apparently spontaneous -way as very young children will now devise arbitrary sounds, both as -proper names and as adverbs of position. That we should not err in -thus comparing the grade of mental evolution exhibited by the earliest -framers of spoken language with that of a young child, is rendered -apparent by the additional and highly interesting fact, that, just as -a young child begins by speaking of the _Ego_ in the third person, so -it was with early man in his use of personal pronouns. “Man regarded -himself as an object before he learnt to regard himself as a subject; -and hence ‘the objective cases of the personal as well as of the other -pronouns are always older than the subjective;’ and the Sanskrit _mâm_, -_ma_ (Greek [Greek: me], Latin _me_) is earlier than _aham_ ([Greek: -egôn] and _ego_).”[231] - -Lest it should be thought that I am assuming too much in thus referring -the origin of pronominal elements to gesture-signs, I will here quote -the opinion of Professor Max Müller, who of all philologists is least -open to suspicion of bias towards my side of the present argument. -Speaking of these “demonstrative elements, which point to an object in -space and time, and express what we now express by _then_, _this_ [= -I], _that_ [= there, he, she, it, &c.], near, far, above, below, &c.;” -he says, “in their primitive form and intention they are addressed -to the senses rather than to the intellect: they are sensuous, not -conceptual.”[232] And elsewhere he adds, “I see no reason why we should -not accept them as real survivals of a period of speech during which -pantomime, gesture, pointing with the fingers to actual things were -still indispensable ingredients of all conversation.”[233] Again, “it -was one of the characteristic features of Sanskrit, and the other Aryan -languages, that they tried to distinguish the various applications of a -root by means of what I have called demonstrative roots or elements. If -they wished to distinguish the mat as the product of their handiwork, -from the handiwork itself, they would say ‘Platting—there;’ if they -wished to encourage the work they would say, ‘Platting—they, or you, -or we.’ We found that what we call demonstrative roots or elements -must be considered as remnants of the earliest and almost pantomimic -phase of language, in which language was hardly as yet what we mean by -language, namely _logos_, a gathering, but only a pointing.”[234] - -It is the opinion of some philologists, however, that these -demonstrative elements were probably “once full or predicative words, -and that if we could penetrate to an earlier stage of language, we -should meet with the original forms of which they are the maimed -half-obliterated representatives.”[235] But as even these philologists -do not question that all originally “predicative words” would be -found to have had their predicative value determined by gesture, “if -we could penetrate to an earlier stage of language,” the question -whether such demonstrative elements as have come down to us were or -were not themselves of originally predicative value, is not of vital -importance in the present connection. For there is no doubt that -pronominal elements which really were aboriginal as such, depended -on accompanying gesture-signs for a conveyance of their predicative -meaning; and although, as we might expect, there is a necessary absence -of proof in particular cases whether these elements have come down to -us in a practically aboriginal form, or whether they have done so as -the worn-out remnants of independently predicative words, the general -principles on which we are now engaged are not really affected by any -such philological uncertainties in matters of detail. For even the -authority just quoted as doubting whether we have evidence enough to -conclude that demonstrative elements which have come down to us were -never themselves predicative words, elsewhere says of early predicative -utterance in general,—“It is certain that there was a time in the -history of speech when the articulate, or semi-articulate, sounds -uttered by primitive man were made the significant representatives of -thought by the gestures with which they were accompanied; and this -complex of sound and gesture—a complex in which, be it remembered, -the sound had no meaning apart from the gesture—was the earliest -sentence.”[236] And, after giving examples from languages of Further -India, he adds,—“But an inflectional language does not permit us to -watch the word-making process so clearly as do those savage jargons, -in which a couple of sounds, like the Grebo _ni ne_, signify ‘I do -it,’ or ‘You do not,’ according to the context and the gestures of -the speaker. Here by degrees, with the growth of consciousness and -the analysis of thought, the external gesture is replaced by some -portion of the uttered sounds which agrees in a number of different -instances, and in this way the words by which the relations of grammar -are expressed came into being. A similar process has been at work in -producing those analogical terminations whereby our Indo-European -languages adapt a word to express a new grammatical relation.” - -Therefore, not unduly to multiply quotations, we may take it as -the now established doctrine of philology that, as even this more -sceptical authority puts it, “Grammar has grown out of gesture and -gesticulation.”[237] Later on I will show in how interesting a manner -early forms of articulate utterance follow in their structure the -language of gesture already treated of in a previous chapter. It was -for the sake of displaying this resemblance that I there occupied so -much space with the syntax of gesture-language; and, therefore, it will -now be my object to trace the family likeness between the constructions -of primitive modes of utterance, and those of the parent gestures from -which these constructions have been directly inherited. But in order -to do this more completely, we must first consider the philology of -predicative words. - -The parts of speech which are primarily concerned in predication, and -which, therefore, may be called _par excellence_ predicative words, -are substantives, adjectives, and verbs. I will, therefore, begin by -briefly stating what is known touching the evolution of these parts of -speech. - -We have abundant evidence to show that originally there was no -distinction between substantives and adjectives, or object-words and -quality-words. Nor is this at all surprising when we remember that even -in fully developed forms of speech one and the same word may stand as -a substantive or an adjective according to its context. “Cannon” in -“cannonball,” or “pocket” in “pocket-book,” &c., are adjectives in -virtue of position—_i.e._ of _apposition_ with the substantives which -they thus serve to qualify. - -Similarly as regards the genitive case. This, also, is of an -attributive quality, and, therefore, like the now independent -adjective, originally had no independent existence. When the force of -the genitive had to be conveyed, it was conveyed by this same device of -apposition. And, lastly, the same device was resorted to for purposes -of predication. Or, to quote these important facts from responsible -sources, Professor Sayce says:—“Even the genitive case, necessary -as it appears to us to be, once had no existence, as indeed it still -has none in groups of languages like the Taic or the Malay. Instead -of the genitive, we here have two nouns placed in apposition to one -another, two individuals, as it were, set side by side without any -effort being made to determine their exact relations beyond the mere -fact that one precedes the other, and is therefore thought of first.... -Now, this apposition of two nouns, which still serves the purpose of -the genitive in many languages, might be regarded as attributive or -as predicative. If predicative, then the two contrasted nouns formed -a complete sentence, ‘Cup gold,’ for instance, being equivalent to -‘The cup is gold.’ If attributive, then one of the two nouns took the -place of an adjective, ‘gold cup’ being nothing more than ‘a golden -cup.’”[238] Then, after giving examples from different languages of -the artificial contrivances whereby in course of time these three -grammatical differentiations originated (namely, by conventional -changes of position between the words apposed, in some cases the form -of predication being A B, and that of attribution or possession B A, -while in other languages the reverse order has obtained), Professor -Sayce goes on to say:—“These primitive contrivances for distinguishing -between the predicate, the attribute, and the genitive, when the three -ideas had in the course of ages been evolved by the mind of the -speaker, gradually gave way to the later and more refined machinery of -suffixes, auxiliaries, and the like.”[239] - -For the sake of putting this point beyond the reach of question, I will -quote another and independent authority to the same general effect. - -“It is a curious fact hitherto overlooked by grammarians and logicians, -that the definition of a noun applies strictly only to the nominative -case. The oblique cases are really attribute-words, and the inflection -is practically nothing but a device for turning a noun into an -adjective or adverb. This is perfectly clear as regards the genitive, -and, indeed there is historical evidence to show that the genitive in -Aryan languages was originally identical with an adjective ending; -‘man’s life’ and ‘human life’ being expressed in the same way. It is -also clear that ‘noctem’ in ‘flet noctem’ is a pure adverb of time. -It is not so easy to see that the accusative in such sentences as ‘He -beats the boy’ is also a sort of adverb, because the connection between -verb and object is so intimate as almost to form one simple idea, as -in the case of noun-composition. But it is clear that if ‘boy’ in the -compound ‘boy-beating’ is an attribute-word, it can very well be so -also when ‘beating’ is thrown into the verbal form without any change -of meaning.”[240] - -Lastly, upon this point Professor Max Müller says, while speaking of -Aryan adjectives:—“These were not used for the first time when people -said ‘The sun is bright,’ but when they predicated the quality of -brightness, or the act of shooting out light, and said, as it were, -‘Brightness-here.’ Adjectives, in fact, were formed, at first, exactly -like substantives, and many of them could be used in both characters. -There are languages in which adjectives are not distinguished from -substantives. But though outwardly alike, they are conceived as -different from substantives the moment they are used in a sentence for -the purpose of predicating or of qualifying a substantive.”[241] - -So much, then, for substantives and adjectives: it cannot be said that -there is any evidence of historical priority of the one over the other; -but rather that so soon as the denotative meanings of substantives -became fixed, they admitted of having imparted to them the meanings -of adjectives, genitives, and predicates, by the simple expedient of -apposition—an expedient which, as we have seen in earlier chapters, -is rendered inevitable by the laws of association and “the logic of -events:” it is an expedient that must have been furnished _to_ the -mind, and therefore need never have been intentionally devised _by_ it. - -Turning next to the case of verbs, or the class of words upon which -more especially devolves the office of predication, it is the opinion -of some philologists that these arose through the apposition of -substantives with the genitives of pronouns.[242] And there can be -no doubt that in many actually existing languages the functions of -predication are still discharged in this way, without the existence of -any verbs at all, as we shall see later on. But, on the other hand, it -is shown that a great many Aryan substantives were formed by joining -pronominal elements to previously existing verbal roots, in a manner -so strongly suggestive of pointing-gestures, that it is difficult to -doubt the highly primitive source of the construction. For example -“digging-he” = labourer, “digging-it” = spade, “digging-here” = labour, -“digging-there” = hole,[243] &c. Or again, “‘The hole is dark’ would -have been expressed originally (in Aryan) by ‘digging-it,’ ‘hiding -here,’ or, ‘hiding-somewhere.’ ‘Hiding-here’ might afterwards be -used in the sense of a hiding-place. But when it was used as a mere -qualifying predicate in a sentence in which there was but one subject, -it assumed at once the character of an adjective.”[244] - -To me it appears evident that there is truth in both these views, -which, therefore, are in no way contradictory to one another. We have -evidence that many substantives were of later origin than many verbs, -and _vice versâ_; but this does not show which of these two parts of -speech preceded the other as a whole. Nor does it appear that we are -likely to obtain any definite evidence upon the point. On psychological -grounds, and from the analogy furnished by children, we might be -prepared to think it most probable that substantives preceded verbs; -and this view is no doubt corroborated by the remarkable paucity of -verbs in certain savage languages of low development. But as a matter -of pure philology “we cannot derive either the verb from the noun, -or the noun from the verb.”[245] This writer goes on to say, “they -are co-existent creations, belonging to the same epoch and impulse of -speech.” But whether or not this inference represents the truth is a -matter of no importance for us. With or without verbs, primitive man -would have been able to predicate—in the one case after the manner of -children who have just begun to learn the use of them, and in the other -case after the manner of those savages recently mentioned, who throw -upon their nouns, in conjunction with pronouns, the office of verbs. - -Seeing that my psychological opponents have laid so much stress upon -the substantive verb as this is used by the Romance languages in -formal predication, I will here devote a paragraph to its special -consideration from a philological point of view. It will be remembered -that I have already pointed out the fallacy which these opponents have -followed in confounding the substantive verb, as thus used, with the -copula—it being a mere accident of the Romance languages that the two -are phonetically identified. Nevertheless, even after this fallacy -has been pointed out to them, my opponents may seek to take refuge -in the substantive verb itself: forced to acknowledge that it has -nothing especially to do with predication, they may still endeavour to -represent that elsewhere, or in itself, it represents a high order of -conceptual thought. This, of course, I allow; and if, as my opponents -assume, the substantive verb belonged to early, not to say primitive -modes of speech, I should further allow that it raises a formidable -difficulty in the otherwise even path of evolutionary explanation. -But, as a matter of fact, these writers are no less mistaken about the -primitive nature of the substantive verb itself, than they are upon the -function which it accidentally discharges in copulation.[246] In order -to prove this, or to show that the substantive verb is really very far -from primitive, I will furnish a few extracts from the writings of -philological authorities upon the subject. - -“Whatever our _a priori_ estimate of the power of the verb-substantive -may be, its origin is traced by philology to very humble and material -sources. The Hebrew verbs חחמוה (_houa_) or הוה (_haia_) may very -probably be derived from an onomatopœia of respiration. The verb -_kama_, which has the same sense, means primitively ‘to stand out,’ -and the verb _koum_, ‘to stand,’ passes into the sense of ‘being.’ -In Sanskrit, _as-mi_ (from which all the verbs-substantives in the -Indo-European languages are derived, as [Greek: eimi], _sum_, am; Zend -_ahmi_; Lithuanic, _esmi_, Icelandic, _em_, &c.) is, properly speaking, -no verbal root, but ‘a formation on the demonstrative pronoun _sa_, the -idea meant to be conveyed being simply that of local presence.’ And of -the two other roots used for the same purpose, namely, _bhu_ ([Greek: -phuô], _fui_, &c.) and _sthâ_ (_stare_, &c.), the first is probably an -imitation of breathing, and the second notoriously a physical verb, -meaning ‘to stand up.’ May we not, then, ask with Bunsen, ‘What is -_to be_ in all languages but the spiritualization of _walking_ or -_standing_ or _eating_?’”[247] - -Again, to quote only one other authority:—“In closing, for the -present, the discussion of this extensive subject, it is proposed to -make a few remarks upon the so-called verb-substantive, respecting -the nature and functions of which there has perhaps been more -misapprehension than about any other element of language. It is -well known that many grammarians have been accustomed to represent -this element as forming the basis of all verbal expression, and as -a necessary ingredient in every logical proposition. It would seem -to follow, from this statement, that nations so unfortunate as to -be without it, could neither employ verbal expression nor frame a -logical proposition. How far this is the case will be seen hereafter: -at present we shall make some brief remarks on this verb, and on the -substitutes usually employed in dialects where it is formally wanting. -It will be sufficient to produce a few prominent instances, as the -multiplying of examples from all known languages would be a mere -repetition of the same general phenomena. - -“In the portion of the essay relating to the Coptic, it was observed: -‘What are called the auxiliary and substantive verbs in Coptic are -still more remote from all essential verbal character (than the -so-called verbal roots). On examination they will almost invariably be -found to be articles, pronouns, particles, or abstract nouns, and to -derive their supposed verbal functions entirely from their accessories, -or from what they imply.’ In fact any one who examines a good Coptic -grammar or dictionary will find that there is nothing formally -corresponding to our _am_, _art_, _is_, _was_, &c., though there is a -counterpart to Lat. _fieri_ (_sthopi_) and another to _poni_ (_chi_, -neuter passive of _che_); both occasionally rendered _to be_, which, -however, is not their radical import. The Egyptians were not, however, -quite destitute of resources in this matter, but had at least half a -dozen methods of rendering the Greek verb-substantive when they wished -to do so. The element most commonly employed is the demonstrative _pe_, -_te_, _ne_; used also in a slightly modified form for the definite -article; _pe_ = is, having reference to a subject in the singular -masculine; _te_, to a singular feminine; and _ne_ = are, to both -genders in the plural. The past tense is indicated by the addition of a -particle expressing remoteness. Here, then, we find as the counterpart -of the verb-substantive an element totally foreign to all the received -ideas of a verb; and that instead of its being deemed necessary to -say in formal terms ‘Petrus est,’ ‘Maria est,’ ‘Homines sunt,’ it is -quite sufficient, and perfectly intelligible, to say, ‘Petrus hic,’ -‘Maria hæc,’ ‘Homines hi.’ The above forms, according to Champollion -and other investigators of ancient hieroglyphics, occur in the oldest -known monumental inscriptions, showing plainly that the ideas of the -ancient Egyptians as to the method of expressing the category _to be_, -did not exactly accord with those of some modern grammarians.... Every -Semitic scholar knows that personal pronouns are employed to represent -the verb-substantive in all the known dialects, exactly as in Coptic, -but with less variety of modification. In this construction it is not -necessary that the pronoun should be of the same person as the subject -of the proposition. It is optional in most dialects to say either _ego -ego, nos nos_, for _ego sum, nos sumus_, or _ego ille, nos illi_. The -phrase ‘Ye are the salt of the earth,’ is, in the Syriac version, -literally ‘You they (_i.e._ the persons constituting) the salt of the -earth.’ Nor is this employment of the personal pronoun confined to the -dialects above specified, it being equally found in Basque, in Galla, -in Turco-Tartarian, and various American languages.... It is true -that the Malayan, Javanese, and Malagassy grammarians talk of words -signifying _to be_; but an attentive comparison of the elements which -they profess to give as such, shows clearly that they are no verbs at -all, but simply pronouns or indeclinable particles, commonly indicating -the time, place, or manner of the specified action or relation. It is -not therefore easy to conceive how the mind of a Philippine islander, -or of any other person, can supply a word totally unknown to it, and -which there is not a particle of evidence to show that it was ever -thought of.... A verb-substantive, such as is commonly conceived, -vivifying all connected speech, and binding together the terms of every -logical proposition, is much upon a footing with the phlogiston of -the chemists of the last generation, regarded as a necessary pabulum -of combustion, that is to say, _vox et præterea nihil_.... If a given -subject be ‘I,’ ‘thou,’ ‘he,’ ‘this,’ ‘that,’ ‘one;’ if it be ‘here,’ -‘there,’ ‘yonder,’ ‘thus,’ ‘in,’ ‘on,’ ‘at,’ ‘by;’ if it ‘sits,’ -‘stands,’ ‘remains,’ or ‘appears,’ we need no ghost to tell us that it -_is_, nor any grammarian or metaphysician to proclaim that recondite -fact in formal terms.”[248] - - * * * * * - -Having thus briefly considered the philology of predicative words, we -must next proceed to the not less important matter of the philology -of predication itself. And here we shall find that the evidence is -sufficiently definite. We have already seen good reason for concluding -that what Grimm has called the “antediluvian” pronominal roots were the -phonetic equivalents of gesture-signs—or rather, that they implied -accompanying gesture-signs for the conveyance of their meaning. Now, it -is on all hands allowed that these pronominal roots, or demonstrative -elements, afterwards became attached to nouns and verbs as affixes or -suffixes, and so in older languages constitute the machinery both of -declension and conjugation. Thus, we can trace back, stage by stage, -the form of predication as it occurs in the most highly developed, or -inflective, languages, to that earliest stage of language in general, -which I have called the indicative. In order to show this somewhat more -in detail, I will begin by sketching these several stages, and then -illustrate the earliest of them that still happen to survive by quoting -the modes of predication which they actually present. - -As we thus trace language backwards, its structure is found to -undergo the following simplification. First of all, auxiliary words, -suffixes, affixes, prepositions, copulas, particles, and, in short, -all inflections, agglutinations, or other parts of speech which are -concerned in the indication of _relationship_ between the other -component parts of a sentence, progressively dwindle and disappear. -When these, which I will call relational words, are shed, language is -left with what may be termed object-words (including pronominal words), -attributive-words, action-words, and words expressive of states of mind -or body, which, therefore, may be designated condition-words. Roughly -speaking, this classification corresponds with the grammatical nouns, -pronouns, adjectives, active verbs, and passive verbs; but as our -regress through the history of language necessitates a total disregard -of all grammatical forms, it will conduce to clearness in my exposition -if we consent to use the terms suggested. - -The next thing we notice is that the distinction between object-words -and attributive-words begins to grow indistinct, and eventually all but -disappears: substantives and adjectives are fused in one, and whether -the resulting word is to be understood as subject or predicate—as the -name of the object or the name of a quality—depends upon its position -in the sentence, upon the tone in which it is uttered, or, in still -earlier stages, upon the gestures by which it is accompanied. Thus, -as Professor Sayce remarks, “the apposition of two substantives [and, -_a fortiori_, of two such partly or wholly undifferentiated words as -we are now contemplating] is the germ out of which no less than three -grammatical conceptions have developed—those of the genitive, of the -predicate, and of the adjective.”[249] - -While this process of fusion is being traced in the case of -substantives and adjectives, it becomes at the same time observable -that the definition of verbs is gradually growing more and more vague, -until it is difficult, and eventually impossible, to distinguish a verb -at all as a separate part of speech. - -Thus we are led back by continuous stages, or through greater and -greater simplifications of language-structure, to a state of things -where words present what naturalists might term so generalized a -type as to include, each within itself, all the functions that -afterwards severally devolve upon different parts of speech. Like those -animalcules which are at the same time but single cells and entire -organisms, these are at the same time single words and independent -sentences. Moreover, as in the one case there is life, in the other -case there is meaning; but the meaning, like the life, is vague -and unevolved: the sentence is an organism without organs, and is -generalized only in the sense that it is protoplasmic. In view of -these facts (which, be it observed, are furnished by languages still -existing, as well as by the philological record of languages long since -extinct) it is impossible to withhold assent from the now universal -doctrine of philologists—“language diminishes the farther we look back -in such a way, that we cannot forbear concluding it must once have had -no existence at all.”[250] - - * * * * * - -From all the evidence which has now been presented showing that -aboriginally words were sentences, it follows that aboriginally -there can have been no distinction between terms and propositions. -Nevertheless, although this follows deductively from the general truth -in question, it is desirable that we should study in more detail the -special application of the principle to the case of formal predication, -seeing that, as so often previously remarked, this is the place where -my opponents have taken their stand. The reader will remember that I -have already disposed of their assertions with regard to the copula. -It will now be my object to show that their analysis is equally -erroneous where it is concerned with both the other elements of which a -formal proposition consists. Not having taken the trouble to acquaint -themselves with the results of linguistic research, and therefore -relying only on what may be termed the accidents of language as these -happen to occur in the Aryan branch of the great language-tree, these -writers assume that a proposition must always and everywhere have been -thrown into the precisely finished form in which it was analyzed by -Aristotle. As a matter of fact, however, it is now well known that -such is not the case; that the form of predication as we have it in -our European languages has been the outcome of a prolonged course of -evolution; and that in its most primitive stage, or in the earliest -stage which happens to have been preserved in the palæontology of -language, predication can scarcely be said to have been differentiated -from what I have called indication. For the sake of placing this -important fact beyond the reach of doubt, I will begin by quoting the -statements of a few among the leading authorities upon the philology of -the subject. - -“Primitive man would not trouble himself much with such propositions -as ‘Man is mortal,’ ‘Gold is heavy,’ which are a source of such -unfailing delight to the formal logician; but if he found it necessary -to employ permanent attribute-words, would naturally throw them into -what is called the attributive form, by placing them in immediate -proximity with the noun, whose inflections they would afterwards -assume. And so the verb gradually came to assume the purely formal -function of predication. The use of verbs denoting action necessitated -the formation of verbs to denote ‘rest,’ ‘continuance in state,’ and -when, in course of time, it became necessary in certain cases to -predicate permanent as well as changing attributes, these words were -naturally employed for the purpose, and such a sentence as ‘The sun -continues bright’ was simply ‘The bright sun’ in another form. By -degrees these verbs became so worn away in meaning, gradually coming -to signify simple existence, that at last they lost all vestiges of -meaning whatever, and came simply to be marks of predication. Such is -the history of the verb ‘to be,’ which in popular language has entirely -lost even the sense of ‘existence.’ Again, in a still more advanced -state, it was found necessary to speak, not only of things, but of -their attributes. Thus such a sentence as ‘Whiteness is an attribute of -snow,’ has identically the same meaning as ‘Snow is white’ and ‘White -snow;’ and the change of ‘white’ into ‘whiteness’ is a purely formal -device to enable us to place an attribute-word as the subject of a -proposition.”[251] - -“Now comes a very important consideration, that not only is the order -of subject and predicate to a great extent conventional, but that the -very idea of the distinction between subject and predicate is purely -linguistic, and has no foundation in the mind itself. In the first -place, there is no necessity for a subject at all: in such a sentence -as ‘It rains,’ there is no subject whatever, the _it_ and the terminal -_s_ being merely formal signs of predication. ‘It rains: therefore I -will take my umbrella,’ is a perfectly legitimate train of reasoning, -but it would puzzle the cleverest logician to reduce it to any of his -figures. Again, the mental proposition is not formed by thinking first -of the subject, then of the copula, and then of the predicate; it is -formed by thinking of the three simultaneously. When we formulate in -our minds the proposition ‘All men are bipeds,’ we have two ideas, ‘all -men’ and ‘an equal number of bipeds,’ or, more tersely, ‘as many men, -as many bipeds,’ and we think of the two ideas simultaneously [_i.e._ -in _apposition_] not one after the other, as we are forced to express -them in speech. The simultaneity of conception is what is expressed by -the copula in logic, and by the various forms of sentences in language. -It by no means follows that logic is entirely destitute of value, but -we shall not arrive at the real substratum of truth until we have -eliminated that part of the science which is really nothing more than -an imperfect analysis of language.”[252] - -Again, as a result of his prolonged study of some of the most primitive -forms of language still extant among the Bushmen of South Africa, Dr. -Bleek entertains no doubt whatever that aboriginally the same word, -without alteration, implied a substantival or a verbal meaning, and -could be used indifferently also as an adjective, adverb, &c.[253] That -is to say, primitive words were sentence-words, and as such were used -by early man in just the same way as young children use their hitherto -undifferentiated signs, _Byby_ = _sleep_, _sleeping_, _to sleep_, -_sleeper_, _asleep_, _sleepy_, &c.; and, by connotative extension, -_bed_, _bolster_, _bed-clothes_, &c. - -Lastly, as already indicated, we are not left to mere inference -touching the aboriginal state of matters with regard to predication. -For in many languages still existing we find the forms of predication -in such low phases of development, that they bring us within easy -distance of the time when there can have been no such forms at all. -Even Professor Max Müller allows that there are still existing -languages “in which there is as yet no outward difference between what -we call a root, and a noun or a verb. Remnants of that phase in the -growth of language we can detect even in so highly developed a language -as Sanskrit.” Elsewhere he remarks:—“A child says, ‘I am hungry,’ -without an idea that _I_ is different from _hungry_, and that both are -united by an auxiliary verb.... A Chinese child would express exactly -the same idea by one word, ‘Shi,’ _to eat_, or _food_, &c. The only -difference would be that a Chinese child speaks the language of a -child, an English child the language of a man.”[254] - -It is no doubt remarkable that the Chinese should so long have retained -so primitive a form; but, as we know, the functions of predication -have here been greatly assisted by devices of syntax combined with -conventionally significant intonation, which really constitute Chinese -a well-developed language of a particular type. Among peoples of a -much lower order of mental evolution, however, we are brought into -contact with still more rudimentary forms of predication, inasmuch -as these devices of syntax and intonation have not been evolved. As -previously stated, the most primitive of all actually existing forms -of predication where articulate language is concerned, is that wherein -the functions of a verb are undertaken by the apposition of a noun with -what is equivalent to the genitive case of a pronoun. Thus, in Dayak, -if it is desired to say, “Thy father is old,” “Thy father looks old,” -&c., in the absence of verbs it is needful to frame the predication by -mere apposition, thus:—“Father-of-thee, age-of-him.” Or, to be more -accurate, as the syntax follows that of gesture-language in placing the -predicate before the subject, we should translate the proposition into -its most exact equivalent by saying, “His age, thy father.” Similarly, -if it is required to make such a statement as that “He is wearing a -white jacket,” the form of the statement would be, “He-with-white -with-jacket,” or, as we might perhaps more tersely translate it, “He -jackety whitey.”[255] - -Again, in Feejee language the functions of a verb may be discharged -by a noun in construction with an oblique pronominal suffix, _e.g._, -_loma-qu_ = heart or will-of-me, = I will.[256] - -So likewise, “almost all philologists who have paid attention to the -Polynesian languages, concur in observing that the divisions of parts -of speech received by European grammarians are, as far as external form -is concerned, inapplicable, or nearly so, to this particular class. The -same element is admitted to be indifferently substantive, adjective, -verb, or particle.”[257] “I will eat the rice,” would require to be -rendered, “The-eating-of-me-the-rice = My eating will be of the rice.” -“The supposed verb is, in fact, an abstract noun, including in it the -notion of futurity of time in construction with an oblique pronominal -suffix; and the ostensible object of the action is not a regimen in the -accusative case, but an apposition. It is scarcely necessary to say -how irreconcilable this is with the ordinary grammatical definition of -a transitive verb; and that, too, in a construction where we should -expect that true verbs would be infallibly employed, if any existed -in the language.”[258] And, not to overburden the argument with -illustrations, it will be enough to add with this writer, “there can be -no question that nouns in conjunction with oblique cases of pronouns -may be, and, in fact, are employed as verbs. Some of the constructions -above specified admit of no other analysis; and they are no accidental -partial phenomena, but capable of being produced by thousands.”[259] - - * * * * * - -It would be easy to multiply quotations from other authorities to the -same effect; but these, I think, are enough to show how completely the -philology of predication destroys the philosophy of predication, as -this has been presented by my opponents. Not only, as already shown, -have they been misled by the verbal accident of certain languages with -which they happen to be familiar identifying the copula with the verb -“to be” (which itself, as we have also seen, has no existence in many -languages); but, as we now see, their analysis is equally at fault -where it deals with the subject and predicate. Such a fully elaborated -form of proposition as “A negro is black,” far from presenting “the -simplest element of thought,” is the demonstrable outcome of an -enormously prolonged course of mental evolution; and I do not know a -more melancholy instance of ingenuity misapplied than is furnished -by the arguments previously quoted from such writers, who, ignoring -all that we now know touching the history of predication, seek to -show that an act of predication is at once “the simplest element of -thought,” and so hugely elaborate a process as they endeavour to -represent. The futility of such an argument may be compared with that -of a morphologist who should be foolish enough to represent that the -Vertebrata can never have descended from the Protozoa, and maintain -his thesis by ignoring all the intermediate animals which are known -actually to exist. - -Take an instance from among the quotations previously given. It will be -remembered that the challenge which my opponents have thrown down upon -the grounds of logic and psychology, is to produce the brute which “can -furnish the blank form of a judgment—the ‘is’ in ‘A is B.’”[260] - -Now, I cannot indeed produce a brute that is able to supply such a -form; but I have done what is very much more to the purpose: I have -produced many nations of still existing men, in multitudes that -cannot be numbered, who are as incapable as any brute of supplying -the blank form that is required. Where is the “is,” in “Age-of-him -Father-of-thee” = “His-age-thy-father” = “Thy-father-is-old”? Or, in -still more primitive stages of human utterance, how shall we extract -the blank form of predication from a “sentence-word,” where there -is not only an absence of any copula, but also an absence of any -differentiation between the subject and the predicate? The truth, in -short, is, as now so repeatedly shown, that not only the brute, but -likewise the young child—and not only the young child, but likewise -early man—and not only early man, but likewise savage man—are all and -equally unable to furnish the blank form of predication, as this has -been slowly elaborated in the highest ramifications of the human mind. - -Of course all this futile (because erroneous) argument on the part -of my opponents, rests upon the analysis of the proposition as this -was given in the Aristotelian system of logic—an analysis which, -in turn, depends on the grammar of the Greek language. Now, it goes -without saying that the whole of this system is obsolete, so far as any -question of the _origin_ either of thought or of speech is concerned. -I do not doubt the value of this grammatical study, nor of the logic -which is founded upon it, provided that inferences from both are kept -within their legitimate sphere. But at this time of day to regard as -primitive the mode of predication which obtained in so highly evolved a -language as the Greek, or to represent the “categories” of Aristotle’s -system as expressive of the simplest elements of human thought, appears -to me so absurd that I can only wonder how intelligent men can have -committed themselves to such a line of argument.[261] - -Quitting, then, all these old-world fallacies which were based on an -absence of information, we must accept the analysis of predication -as this has been supplied to us by the advance of science. And this -analysis has proved to demonstration, that “the division of the -sentence into two parts, the subject and the predicate, is a mere -accident; it is not known to the polysynthetic languages of America, -which herein reflect the condition of primeval speech.... So far as -the act of thought is concerned, subject and predicate are one and the -same, and there are many languages in which they are so treated.”[262] -Consequently, it appears to me that the only position which remains for -my opponents to adopt is that of arguing in some such way as follows. - -Freely admitting, they may say, that the issue must be thrown back -from predication as it occurs in Greek to predication as it occurs in -savage languages of low development, still we are in the presence of -predication all the same. And even when you have driven us back to the -most primitive possible form of human speech, wherein as yet there are -no parts of speech, and predication therefore requires to be conducted -in a most inefficient manner, still most obviously it _is_ conducted, -inasmuch as it is only for the purpose of conducting it that speech can -have ever come into existence at all. - -Now, in order to meet this sole remaining position, I must begin by -reminding the reader of some of the points which have already been -established in previous chapters. - -First of all, when seeking to define “the simplest element of thought,” -I showed that this does not occur in the fully formed proposition, -but in the fully formed concept; and that it is only out of two such -concepts as elements that full or conceptual propositions can be -formed as compounds. Or, as this was stated in the chapter on Speech, -“conceptual names are the ingredients out of which is formed the -structure of propositions; and, in order that this formation should -take place, there must be in the ingredients that element of conceptual -ideation which is already present in every denominative term.” Or, yet -again, as the same thing was there quoted from Professor Sayce, “it is -a truism of psychology that the terms of a proposition, when closely -interrogated, turn out to be nothing but abbreviated judgments.”[263] - -Having thus defined the simplest element of thought as a concept, I -went on to show from the psychogenesis of children, that before there -is any power of forming concepts—and therefore of bestowing names as -denominative terms, or, _a fortiori_, of combining such terms in the -form of conceptual propositions—there is the power of forming recepts, -of naming these recepts by denotative terms, and even of placing such -terms in apposition for the purpose of conveying information of a -pre-conceptual kind. The pre-conceptual, rudimentary, or unthinking -propositions thus formed occur in early childhood, prior to the advent -of self-consciousness, _and prior, therefore, to the very condition -which is required for any process of conceptual thought_. Moreover, it -was shown that this pre-conceptual kind of predication is itself the -product of a gradual development. Taking its origin from the ground of -gesture-signs, when it first begins to sprout into articulate utterance -there is absolutely no distinction to be observed between “parts of -speech.” Every word is what we now know as a “sentence-word,” any -special applications of which can only be defined by gesture. Next, -these sentence-words, or others that are afterwards acquired, begin -to be imperfectly differentiated into denotative names of objects, -qualities, actions, and states; and the greater the definition which -they thus acquire as parts of speech, the more do they severally -undergo that process of connotative extension as to meaning which is -everywhere the index of a growing appreciation of analogies. Lastly, -object-words and attributive-words (_i.e._ denotative names of things -and denotative names of qualities or actions), come to be used in -apposition. But the rudimentary or unthinking form of predication -which results from this is due to merely sensuous associations and -the external “logic of events;” like the elements of which it is -composed, it is not conceptual, but pre-conceptual. With the dawn -of self-consciousness, however, predication begins to become truly -conceptual; and thus enters upon its prolonged course of still gradual -development in the region of introspective thought. - -All these general facts, it will be remembered, were established on -grounds of psychological observation alone; I nowhere invoked the -independent witness of philology. But the time having now come for -calling in this additional testimony, the corroborating force of it -appears to me overwhelming. For it everywhere proves the growth of -predication to have been the same in the race as we have found it to be -in the individual. Therefore, as in the latter case, so in the former, -I now ask—Will any opponent venture to affirm that pre-conceptual -ideation is indicative of judgment? Or, which is the same thing, will -he venture to deny that there is an all-important distinction between -predication as receptual and predication as conceptual? Will he still -seek to take refuge in the only position now remaining, and argue, as -above supposed, that not only in the childish appositions of denotative -names, but even in the earlier and hitherto undifferentiated protoplasm -of a “sentence-word,” we have that faculty of predication on which he -founds his distinction between man and brute? Obviously, if he will not -do this, his argument is at an end, seeing that in the race, as in the -individual, there is now no longer any question as to the continuity -between the predicative germ in a sentence-word, and the fully evolved -structure of a formal proposition. On the other hand, if he does elect -to argue thus, the following brief considerations will effectually -dislodge him. - -If the term “predication” is extended from a conceptual proposition -to a sentence-word, it thereby becomes deprived of that distinctive -meaning upon which alone the whole argument of my opponents is reared. -For, when used by a young child (or primitive man), sentence-words -require to be supplemented by gesture-signs in order to particularize -their meaning, or to complete the “predication.” But, where such is -the case, there is no longer any psychological distinction between -_speaking_ and _pointing_: if this is called predication, then the -predicative “category of language” has become identified with the -indicative: man and brute are conceded to be “brothers.” - -Take an example. At the present moment I happen to have an infant who -has not yet acquired the use of any one articulate word. Being just -able to toddle, he occasionally comes to grief in one way or another; -and when he does so he seeks to communicate the nature of his mishap -by means of gesture-signs. To-day, for instance, he knocked his head -against a table, and forthwith ran up to me for sympathy. On my asking -him where he was hurt, he immediately touched the part of his head in -question—_i.e._ _indicated_ the painful spot. Now, will it be said -that in doing this the child was _predicating_ the seat of injury? If -so, all the distinctive meaning which belongs to the term predicating, -or the only meaning on which my opponents have hitherto relied, is -discharged. The gesture-signs which are so abundantly employed by the -lower animals would then also require to be regarded as predicatory, -seeing that, as before shown at considerable length, they differ in no -respect from those of the still speechless infant. - -Therefore, whether my opponents allow or disallow the quality of -predication to sentence-words, alike and equally this argument -collapses. Their only logical alternative is to vacate their argument -altogether; no longer to maintain that “Speech is the Rubicon of Mind,” -but to concede that, as between the indicative phase of language which -we share with the lower animals, and the truly predicative phase which -belongs only to man, there is no distinction of kind to be attributed; -seeing that, on the contrary, whether we look to the psychogenesis of -the individual or to that of the race, we alike find a demonstrable -continuity of evolution from the lowest to the highest level of the -sign-making faculty. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - -THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY (_continued_). - - -In the last chapter we have been concerned with the philology of -predication. In the present chapter I propose to consider the philology -of conception. Of course the distinction is not one that can be very -sharply drawn, because, as fully shown in my chapter on Speech, every -concept embodies a judgment, and therefore every denominative term is a -condensed proposition. Nevertheless, as my opponents have laid so much -stress on full or formal predication, as distinguished from conception, -I have thought it desirable, as much as possible, to keep these two -branches of our subject separate. Therefore, having now disposed of -all opposition that can possibly be raised on the ground of formal -predication, I will conclude by throwing the light of philology on the -origin of material predication, or the passage of receptual denotation -into conceptual denomination, as this is shown to have occurred in the -pre-historic evolution of the race. - -It will be remembered that, under my analysis of the growth of -predication, much more stress has been laid in the last chapter than in -previous chapters on what I have called the protoplasm of predication -as this occurs in the hitherto undifferentiated “sentence-word.” -While treating of the psychology of predication in the chapter on -Speech, I did not go further back in my analysis than to point out -how the “nascent” or “pre-conceptual” propositions of young children -are brought about by the mere apposition of denotative terms—such -apposition having been shown to be due to sensuous association when -under the guidance of the “logic of events.” But when I came to deal -with the philology of predication, it became evident that there -was even an earlier phase of the faculty in question than that of -apposing denotative terms by sensuous association. For, as we have so -recently seen, philologists have proved that even before there were -any denotative terms respectively significant of objects, qualities, -actions, states, or relations, there were sentence-words which combined -in one vague mass the meanings afterwards apportioned to substantives, -adjectives, verbs, prepositions, &c., with the consequence that the -only kind of apposition which could be called into play for the purpose -of indicating the particular significance intended to belong to such -a word on particular occasions, was the apposition of gesture-signs. -Now, I had two reasons for thus postponing our consideration of what -is undoubtedly the earliest phase of articulate sign-making. In the -first place, it seemed to me that I might more easily lead the reader -to a clear understanding of the subject by beginning with a phase of -predication which he could most readily appreciate, than by suddenly -bringing him into the presence of a germ-like origin which is far -from being so readily intelligible. But over and above this desire -to proceed from the familiar to the unfamiliar, I had, in the second -place, a further and a better reason for not dealing with the ultimate -germ of articulate sign-making so long as I was dealing only with the -psychology of our subject. This reason was, that in the development of -speech as exhibited by the growing child—which, of course, furnishes -our only material for a study of the subject from a psychological point -of view—the original or germinal phase in question does not appear -to be either so marked, so important, or, comparatively speaking, of -such prolonged duration as it was in the development of speech in the -race. To use biological terms, this the earliest phase in the evolution -of speech has been greatly foreshortened in the ontogeny of mankind, -as compared with what it appears to have been in the phylogeny. The -result, of course, is that we should gain but an inadequate idea of -its importance, were we to estimate it by a merely psychological -analysis of what we now find in the life-history of the individual. - -It is perfectly true, as Professor Max Müller says, that “if an -English child says ‘Up,’ that _up_ is, to his mind, noun, verb, and -adjective, all in one.” Nevertheless, in a young child, from the very -first, there is a marked tendency to observe the distinctions which -belong to the principal parts of speech. The earliest words uttered -by my own children have always been nouns and proper names, such as -“Star,” “Mamma,” “Papa,” “Ilda,” &c.; and although, later on, some of -these earliest words might assume the functions of adjectives by being -used in apposition with other nouns subsequently acquired (such as -“Mamma-ba,” for a sheep, and “Ilda-ba” for a lamb), neither the nouns -nor the adjectives came to be used as verbs. It has been previously -shown that the use of adjectives is acquired almost as soon as that -of substantives; and although the poverty of the child’s vocabulary -then often necessitates the adjectives being used as substantives, -the substantives as adjectives, and both as rudimentary propositions, -still there remains a distinction between them as object-words and -quality-words. Similarly, although action-words and condition-words -are often forced into the position of object-words and quality-words, -it is apparent that the primary idea attaching to them is that which -properly belongs to a verb. And, of course, the same remarks apply to -relation-words, such as “Up.” - -Take, for instance, the cases of pre-conceptual predication which -were previously quoted from Mr. Sully, namely, “Bow-wow” = “That is -a dog;” “Ot” = “This milk is hot;” “Dow” = “My plaything is down;” -“Dit ki” = “Sister is crying;” “Dit naughty” = “Sister is naughty;” -“Dit dow ga” = “Sister is down on the grass.” In all these cases it is -evident that the child is displaying a true perception of the different -functions which severally belong to the different parts of speech; and -so far as psychological analysis alone could carry us, there would -be nothing to show that the forcing of one part of speech into the -office of another, which so frequently occurs at this age, is due to -anything more than the exigencies of expression where as yet there -are scarcely any words for the conveyance of meaning of any kind. -Therefore, on grounds of psychological analysis alone, I do not see -that we are justified in arguing from these facts that a young child -has no appreciation of the difference between the functions of the -different parts of speech—any more than we should were we to argue -that a grown man has no such appreciation when he extends the meaning -of a substantive (such as “pocket”) so as to embrace the function of -an adjective on the one hand (_e.g._ “pocket-book”), and of a verb on -the other (_e.g._ “he _cannoned_ off the white, and _pocketed_ the -red”). What may be termed this grammatical abuse of words becomes an -absolute necessity where the vocabulary is small, as we well know when -trying to express ourselves in a foreign language with which we are -but slightly acquainted. And, of course, the smaller the vocabulary, -the greater is such necessity; so that it is greatest of all when an -infant is only just emerging from its infancy. Therefore, as just -remarked, on grounds of psychological analysis alone, I do not think -we should be justified in concluding that the first-speaking child has -no appreciation of what we understand by parts of speech; and it is on -account of the uncertainty which here obtains as between necessity and -incapacity, that I reserved my consideration of “sentence-words” for -the independent light which has been thrown upon them by the science of -comparative philology. - -Now, when investigated by this light, it appears, as already -observed, that the protoplasmic condition of language prior to its -differentiation into parts of speech was of much longer duration in -the race than, relatively speaking, it is in the individual. Moreover, -it appears to have been of relatively much greater importance to the -subsequent development of language. How, then, is this difference -to be explained? I think the explanation is sufficiently simple. An -infant of to-day is born into the medium of already-spoken language; -and long before it is itself able to imitate the words which it hears, -it is well able to understand a large number of them. Consequently, -while still literally an _infant_, the use of grammatical forms is -being constantly borne in upon its mind; and, therefore, it is not at -all surprising that, when it first begins to use articulate signs, it -should already be in possession of some amount of knowledge of their -distinctive meanings as names of objects, qualities, actions, states, -or relations. Indeed, it is only as such that the infant has acquired -its knowledge of these signs at all; and hence, if there is any wonder -in the matter, it is that the first-speaking child should exhibit so -much vagueness as it does in the matter of grammatical distinction. - -But how vastly different must have been the case of primitive man! -The infant, as a child of to-day, finds a grammar already made to its -use, and one which it is bound to learn with the first learning of -denotative names. But the infant, as an adult in primeval time, was -under the necessity of slowly elaborating his grammar together with his -denotative names; and this, as we have previously seen, he only could -do by the aid of gesture and grimace. Therefore, while the acquisition -of names and forms of speech by infantile man must have been thus in -chief part dependent on gesture and grimace, the acquisition by the -infantile child is now not only independent of gesture and grimace, but -actively inimical to both. The already-constructed grammar of speech -is the evolutionary substitute of gesture, from which it originally -arose; and, hence, so soon as a child of to-day begins to speak, -gesture-signs begin at once to be starved out by grammatical forms. But -in the history of the race gesture-signs were the nursing-mothers of -grammatical forms; and the more that their progeny grew, the greater -must have been the variety of functions which the parents were called -upon to perform. In other words, during the infancy of our race the -growth of articulate language must not only have depended, but also -reacted upon that of gesture-signs—increasing their number, their -intricacy, and their refinement, up to the time when grammatical forms -were sufficiently far evolved to admit of the gesture-signs becoming -gradually dispensed with. Then, of course, Saturn-like, gesticulation -was devoured by its own offspring; the relations between signs -appealing to the eye and to the ear became gradually reversed; and, -as is now the case with every growing child, the language of formal -utterance sapped the life of its more informal progenitor. - -We are now in a position to consider the exact psychological relation -of sentence-words to denotative and receptually connotative words. It -will be remembered that I have everywhere spoken of sentence-words as -representing an even more primitive order of ideation than denotative -words, and, _a fortiori_, than receptually connotative words. On the -other hand, in earlier parts of this treatise I showed that both the -last-mentioned kinds of words occur in children when they first begin -to speak, and may even be traced so low down in the psychological scale -as the talking birds. This apparent ambiguity, therefore, now requires -to be cleared up. Can anything, it may be reasonably asked, in the -shape of spoken language be more primitive than the very first words -which are spoken by a child, or even by a parrot? But, if not, how can -I agree with those philologists who conclude that there is an even -still more primitive stage of conceptual evolution to be recognized in -sentence-words? - -Briefly, my answer to these questions is that in the young child -and the talking bird denotative-words, connotative-words, and -sentence-words are all equally primitive; or, if there is any priority -to be assigned, that it must be assigned to the first-named. But the -reason of this, I hold to be, is, that the child and the bird are -both living in an already-developed medium of spoken language, and, -therefore, as recently stated, have only to learn their denotative -names by special association, while primitive man had himself to -fashion his names out of the previously inarticulate materials of his -own psychology. Now this, as we have also seen, he only could do by -such associations of sounds and gestures as in the first instance -must have conveyed meanings of a pre-conceptually predicative kind. -In the absence of any sounds already given—and therefore already -_agreed upon_—as denotative names, there could be no possibility of -primitive man arbitrarily _assigning_ such names; and thus there could -have been no parallel to a young child who receptually _acquires_ -them. In order that he should assign names, primitive man must first -have had occasion to make his pre-conceptual statements about the -objects, qualities, &c., the names of which afterwards grew out of -these statements, or sentence-words. Adam, indeed, gave names to -animals; but Adam was already in possession of conceptual thought, and -therefore in a psychological position to appreciate the importance of -what he was about. But the “pre-Adamite man” who is now before us could -not possibly have invented names for their own sakes, unless he were -already capable of thinking about names _as_ names, and, therefore, -already in possession of that very conceptual thought which, as we -have now so often seen, depends upon names for its origin. Even with -all our own fully developed powers of conceptual thought, we cannot -_name_ an object when in the society of men with whose language we -are totally unacquainted, without _predicating_ something about that -object by means of gestures or other signs. Therefore, without further -discussion, it must be obvious—not only, as already shown, that there -is here no exact parallel between ontogenesis and phylogenesis, and -that we have thus a full explanation why sentence-words were of so much -more importance to the infant man than they are to the infant child, -but further and consequently—that the question whether sentence-words -are more primitive than denotative words is not a question that -is properly stated, unless it be also stated whether the question -applies to the individual or to the race. As regards the individual -of to-day, it cannot be said that there is any priority, historical -or psychological, of sentence-words over denotative words, or even -over receptually connotative words of a low order of extension. Nay, -we have seen that the leading principles of grammatical form admit of -being acquired by the child together with his acquisition of words of -all kinds, and that even talking birds are able to distinguish between -names as severally names of objects, qualities, states, or actions. - -Thus we find that to almost any order of intelligence which is already -surrounded by the medium of spoken language, the understanding—and, in -the presence of any power of imitative utterance, the acquisition—of -denotative names as signs or marks of corresponding objects, qualities, -&c., is, if anything, a more primitive act than that of using a -sentence-word; but that in the absence of such an already-existing -medium, sentence-words are more primitive than denotative names. -Nevertheless, it is of importance to note how low an order of -receptual ideation is capable of learning a denotative name by special -association, because this fact proves that as soon as mankind advanced -to the stage where they first began to coin their sentence-words, they -must already have been far above the psychological level required -for the acquisition of denotative words, _if only such words had -previously been in existence_. Consequently, we can well understand -how such words would soon have begun to come into existence through -the habitual employment of sentence-words in relation to particular -objects, qualities, states, actions, &c.; by such special associations, -sentence-words would readily degenerate into merely semiotic marks. -How long or how short a time this genesis of relatively “empty words” -out of the primordially “full words” may have occupied, it is now -impossible to say; but the important thing for us to notice is, that -during the whole of this time—whatever it may have been—the mind of -primitive man was already far above the psychological level which is -required for the apprehension of a denotative name.[264] - -So much, then, for the first class of considerations which has been -opened up by throwing upon the results of our psychological analysis -the independent light of philological research. I will now pass on to a -second class, which is even of more importance. - -From the fact that sentence-words played so all-important a part in the -origin of speech, and that in order to do so they essentially depended -on the co-operation of gestures with which they were accompanied, so -that in the resulting “complex of sound and gesture the sound had -no meaning apart from the gesture;” from these now well-established -facts, we may gain some additional light on a question previously -considered—namely, the extent to which primitive words were “abstract” -or “concrete,” “particular” or “general,” and, therefore, “receptual” -or “conceptual.” According to Professor Max Müller, “the science of -language has proved by irrefragable evidence that human thought, in the -true sense of that word—that is, human language—did not proceed from -the concrete to the abstract, but from the abstract to the concrete. -Roots, the elements out of which all language has been constructed, -are abstract, never concrete; and it is by predicating these abstract -concepts of this or that, by localizing them here or there, in fact by -applying the category of οὐϚία or substance, to the roots, that the -first foundation of our language and our thought were laid.”[265] - -Here, to begin with, there is an inherent contradiction. When it is -said that the roots in question already presented abstract concepts, it -becomes a contradiction to add that “the first foundations of language -and thought were laid by applying the category of substance to the -roots.” For, if these roots already presented abstract concepts, they -already presented the distinctive feature of human “thought,” whose -“foundations,” therefore, must have been “laid” somewhere further back -in the history of mankind. But, besides this inherent contradiction, we -have here an emphatic re-statement of the two radical errors which I -previously mentioned, and which everywhere mar the philosophical value -of Professor Max Müller’s work. The first is his tacit assumption that -the roots of Aryan speech represent the original elements of articulate -language. The second is that, upon the basis of this assumption, the -science of language has proved, by irrefragable evidence, that human -thought proceeded from the abstract to the concrete—or, in other -words, that it sprang into being Minerva-like, already equipped with -the divine inheritance of conceptual wisdom. Now, in entertaining this -theory, Professor Max Müller is not only in direct conflict with all -his philological brethren, but likewise, as we have previously seen, -often compelled to be irreconcilably inconsistent with himself.[266] -Moreover, as we have likewise seen, his assumption as to the aboriginal -nature of Aryan roots, on which his transcendental doctrine rests, is -intrinsically absurd, and thus does not really require the united voice -of professed philologists for its condemnation. Therefore, what the -science of language _does_ prove “by irrefragable evidence” is, _not_ -that these roots of the Aryan branch of language are the aboriginal -elements of human speech, or indices of the aboriginal condition of -human ideation; but that, being the survivals of incalculably more -primitive and immeasurably more remote phases of word-formation, -they come before us as the already-matured products of conceptual -thought—and, _a fortiori_, that on the basis of these roots alone _the -science of language has absolutely no evidence at all to furnish_ as -touching the matter which Professor Max Müller here alludes to in such -positive terms. In this connection there can be no possible escape from -the tersely expressed conclusion previously quoted from Geiger, and -unanimously entertained as an axiom by philologists in general:—“These -roots are not the primitive roots: we have perhaps in no one single -instance the first aboriginal articulate sound—just as little, of -course, the aboriginal signification.”[267] - -But the point which I now wish to bring forward is this. We have -previously seen the source of these unfortunate utterances in Professor -Max Müller’s philology appears to reside in certain prepossessions -which he exhibits in the domain of psychology. For he adopts the -assumption that there can be no order of words which do not, by the -mere fact of their existence, imply concepts: he does not sufficiently -recognize that there may be a power of bestowing names as signs, -without the power of thinking these signs as names. Consequently, the -distinction which, on grounds of comparative psychology, appears to me -so obvious and so necessary—_i.e._ between names as merely denotative -marks due to pre-conceptual association, and denominative judgments due -to conceptual thought—has escaped his sufficient notice. Consequently, -also, he has failed to distinguish between ideas as “general” and what -I have called “generic;” or between an idea that is general because -it is born of an intentional synthesis of the results of a previous -analysis, and an idea that is _generalized_[268] because not yet -differentiated by any intentional analysis, and therefore representing -simply an absence of conceptual thought. My child on first beginning -to speak had a generalized idea of similarity between all kinds of -brightly shining objects, and therefore called them all by the one -denotative name of “star.” The astronomer has a general idea answering -to his denominative name of “star;” but this has been arrived at after -a prolonged course of mental evolution, wherein conceptual analysis -has been engaged in conceptual classification in many and various -directions: it therefore represents the psychological antithesis of the -generalized idea, which was due to the merely sensuous associations -of pre-conceptual thought. Ideas, then, as general and as generic -severally occupy the very antipodes of Mind. - -All this we have previously seen. My object in here recurring to the -matter is to show that much additional light may be thrown upon it by -the philological doctrine of “sentence-words,” which Professor Max -Müller, in common with other philologists, fully accepts. - -Of all the writers on primitive modes of speech as represented by -existing savages, no one is entitled to speak with so much authority -as Bleek. Now, as a result of his prolonged and first-hand study of -the subject, he is strongly of opinion that aboriginal words were -expressive “not at all of an abstract or general character, but -exclusively concrete or individual.” By this he means that primitive -ideas were what I have called generic. For he says that had a word been -formed from imitation of the sound of a cuckoo, for instance, it could -not possibly have had its meaning limited to the name of that bird; -but would have been extended so as to embrace “the whole situation -so far as it came within the consciousness of the speaker.” That is -to say, it would have become a generic name for the whole recept of -bird, cry, flying, &c., &c., just as to our own children the word -_Ba_=sheep, bleating, grazing, &c. Now, this process of comprising -under one denotative term the hitherto undifferentiated perceptions of -“a whole situation so far as it comes within the consciousness of the -speaker,” is the very opposite of the process whereby a denominative -term is brought to unify, by an act of “generalization,” the previously -well-differentiated concepts between which some analogy is afterwards -discovered. Therefore the absence of any parts of speech in primitive -language is due to a generic order of ideation, whereas the unions -of parts of speech in any languages which present them is due to the -generalizing order of ideation. Or, as Bleek puts it while speaking -of the comparatively undifferentiated condition of South African -languages, “this differs entirely from the principle which prevails in -modern English, where a word, without undergoing any change of form, -may nevertheless belong to different parts of speech. For in English -the parts of speech, though not always differing in sound, are always -accurately distinguished in concept; while in the other case there -was as yet no consciousness of any difference, inasmuch as neither -form nor position had hitherto called attention to anything of the -kind. For forms had not yet made their appearance, and determinate -position [_i.e._ significance expressed by syntax], as, for example, -in Chinese, could only arise in a language of highly advanced internal -formation.”[269] - -Indeed, if we consider the matter, it is not conceivable that the case -could be otherwise. No one will maintain that the sentence-words of -young children exhibit the highest elaborations of conceptual thought, -on the ground that they present the highest degree of “generality” -which it is possible for articulate sounds to express. But if this -is not to be suggested as regards the infant child, what possible -ground can there be for suggesting it as regards the infant man, or -for inferring that aboriginal speech must have been expressive of -“general” and “abstract” ideas, merely because the further backwards -that we trace the growth of language the less organized do we find its -structure to be? Clearly, the contradiction arises from a confusion -between ideas as generic and general, or between the extension which -is due to original vagueness and that which is laboriously acquired by -subsequent precision. An Amœba is morphologically more “generalized” -than a Vertebrate; but for this very reason it is the less highly -evolved as an organism. The philology of sentence-words, therefore, -leads us back to a state of ideation wherein as yet the powers of -conceptual thought were in that nascent condition which betokens what -I have called their pre-conceptual stage—or a stage which may be -observed in a comparatively foreshortened state among children before -the dawn of self-consciousness. - -There can be no reasonable doubt that during this stage of mental -evolution sentence-words arose in the race as they now do in the -individual, the only difference being that then they had to be invented -instead of learnt. This difference would probably have given a larger -importance to the principle of onomatopœia,[270] and certainly a -much larger importance to the co-operation of gesture, than now -obtains in the otherwise analogous case of young children. But in -the one case as in the other, I think there can be no reasonable -question that sentence-words must have owed their origin to receptual -and pre-conceptual apprehensions of all kinds, whether of objects, -qualities, actions, states, relations, or of any two or more of these -“categories” as they may happen to have been blended in the hitherto -undifferentiating perceptions of aboriginal man. - - * * * * * - -I must now allude to the results of our previous inquiry touching -“the syntax of gesture-language.” For comparison will show that in -all essential particulars the semiotic construction of this the -most original and immediately graphic mode of communication, bears -a striking resemblance to that which is presented by the earliest -forms of articulate language, both as revealed by philology and in -“baby-talk.”[271] Thus, as we saw, “gesture-language has no grammar -properly so called. The same sign stands for ‘walk,’ ‘walkest,’ -‘walking,’ ‘walked,’ ‘walker.’ Adjectives and verbs are not easily -distinguished by the deaf and dumb. Indeed, our elaborate system of -parts of speech is but little applicable to the gesture-language.” -Next, to quote again only one of the numerous examples previously -given to show the primitive order of apposition, whereby the language -of gesture serves to convey a predication, “I should be punished if -I were lazy and naughty” would be put, “I lazy, naughty, no!—lazy, -naughty, I punished; yes!” Again, “to make is too abstract for the -deaf-mute; to show that the tailor makes the coat, or that the -carpenter makes the table, he would represent the tailor sewing the -coat and the carpenter sawing and planing the table. Such a proposition -as ‘Rain makes the land fruitful’ would not come into his way of -thinking: ‘Rain, fall; plants, grow,’ would be his pictorial (_i.e._ -receptual) expression.” Elsewhere this writer remarks that the absence -of any distinction between substantive, adjective, and verb, which -is universal in gesture-language, is customary in Chinese, and not -unknown even in English. “To _butter_ bread, to _cudgel_ a man, to -_oil_ machinery, to _pepper_ a dish, and scores of such expressions, -involve action and instrument in one word, and that word a substantive -treated as the root or crude form of a verb. Such expressions are -concretisms, picture-words, gesture-words, as much as the deaf-and-dumb -man’s one sign for ‘butter’ and ‘buttering.’” And similarly as to the -substantive-adjective, in such words as _iron-stone_, _feather-grass_, -_chesnut-horse_, &c.; here the mere apposition of the words -constitutes the one an attribution of the other, as is the case in -gesture-language. And not only in Chinese, but as shown in the last -chapter, in a great number and variety of savage tongues this mode of -construction is habitual. In all these cases distinctions between parts -of speech can be rendered only by syntax; and this syntax is the syntax -of gesture. - -I will ask the reader to refer to the whole passage in which -I previously treated of the syntax of gesture,[272] giving -special attention to the points just noted, and also to the -following:—invariable absence of the copula, and frequent absence -of the verb (as “Apple-father-I” = “My father gave me an apple”); -resemblance of sentences to the polysynthetic or unanalyzing type (as -“I-Tom-struck-a-stick” = “Tom struck me with a stick”); the device -whereby syntax, or order of apposition, is made to distinguish between -predicative, attributive, and possessive meanings, and therefore -also between substantives and adjectives; the importance of grimace -in association with gesture (as when a look of inquiry converts an -assertion into a question); the highly instructive means whereby -relational words, and especially pronouns, are rendered in the gestures -of pointing; the no less instructive manner whereby a general idea is -rendered in a summation of particular ideas (as “Did you have soup? did -you have porridge?” &c. = “What did you have for dinner?”); and the -receptual or sensuous source of all gesture-signs which are concerned -in expressing ideas presenting any degree of abstraction (as striking -the hand to signify “hard,” &c.). - -Hence, we may everywhere trace a fundamental similarity between the -comparatively undeveloped form of conceptual thought as displayed -in gesture, and that which philology has revealed as distinctive of -early speech. Of course in both cases conceptual thought is there: -the ideation is human, though, comparatively speaking, immature. -But the important point to notice is the curiously close similarity -between the forms of language-structure as revealed in gesture and in -early speech. For no one, I should suppose, can avoid perceiving the -idiographic character of gesture-language, whereby it is more nearly -allied to the purely receptual modes of communication which we have -studied in the lower animals, than is the case with our fully evolved -forms of predication. It therefore seems to me highly suggestive that -the earliest forms and records of spoken language that we possess -(notwithstanding that they are still far from aboriginal), follow so -closely the model which is still supplied to us in the idiographic -gestures of deaf-mutes. Such syntax as there is—_i.e._ such _a putting -in order_ as is expressive of the mode of ideational grouping—so -nearly resembles the syntax of gesture-language, that we can at once -perceive their common psychological source. It is on account of this -structural resemblance between gesture and early speech that I have -devoted so much space to our consideration of the former; and if I do -not now dwell at greater length upon the significance of the analogy, -it is only because this significance appears too obvious to require -further treatment. - -There is, however, one point with reference to this analogy on which -a few words must here be said. If there is any truth at all in the -theory of evolution with reference to the human mind, we may be quite -sure, from what has been said in earlier chapters, that tone, gesture, -and grimace preceded articulation as the medium of pre-conceptual -utterance. Therefore, the structural similarity between existing -gesture-language and the earliest records of articulate language now -under consideration, is presumably due, not only to a similarity of -psychological conditions, but also to direct continuity of descent. -Or, as Colonel Mallery well puts it, while speaking of the presumable -origin of spoken language, “as the action was then the essential, and -the consequent or concomitant sound the accident, it would be expected -that a representation, or feigned reproduction of the action, would -have been used to express the idea before the sound associated with -that action could have been separated from it. The visual onomatopœia -of gestures, which even yet have been subjected to but slight -artificial corruption, would therefore serve as a key to the audible. -It is also contended that in the pristine days, when the sounds of -the only words yet formed had close connection with objects and the -ideas directly derived from them, signs were as much more copious for -communication than speech as the sight embraces more and more distinct -characteristics of objects than does the sense of hearing.”[273] - - * * * * * - -All the foregoing and general conclusions thus reached, touching the -genesis of conceptual from pre-conceptual ideation, admit of being -strikingly corroborated through another line of philological research. -On antecedent grounds the evolutionist would suppose that “the first -language-signs must have denoted those physical acts and qualities -which were directly apprehensible by the senses; both because these -alone are directly significable, and because it was only they that -untrained human beings had the power to deal with or the occasion to -use.”[274] In other words, if, as we suppose, language had its origin -in merely denotative sign-making, which gradually became more and more -connotative and thus gradually more and more predicative; obviously the -original denotations must have referred only to objects (or actions, -states, and qualities) of merely receptual significance—_i.e._ -“those physical acts and qualities which are directly apprehensible -by the senses.” And, no less obviously, the connotative extension -of such denotative names must, for an enormously long period, have -been confined to a pre-conceptual cognizance of the most obvious -analogies—_i.e._ such analogies as would necessarily thrust themselves -upon the merely sensuous perception by the force of direct association. - -Now, if this were the case, what would the evolutionist expect to find -in language as it now exists? Clearly, he would expect to find more -or less well-marked traces, in the fundamental constitution of all -languages, of what has been called “fundamental metaphor”—by which -is meant an intellectual extension of terms that originally were of -no more than sensuous signification. And this is precisely what we do -find. “The whole history of language, down to our own day, is full -of examples of the reduction of physical terms and phrases to the -expression of non-physical conceptions and relations; we can hardly -write a line without giving illustrations of this kind of linguistic -growth. So pervading is it, that we never regard ourselves as having -read the history of any intellectual or moral term till we have traced -it back to its physical origin.”[275] - -Now, I hold that this receptual nucleus of all our conceptual terms -furnishes the strongest possible evidence, not only of the historical -priority of the former, but also of what Professor Max Müller -calls their “dire necessity” to the growth of the latter.[276] In -other words, the facts appear conclusively to show that conceptual -connotation (denomination) has always had—_and can only have had_—a -receptual core (denotation) around which to develop. Psychological -analysis has already shown us the psychological priority of the recept; -and now philological research most strikingly corroborates this -analysis by _actually finding the recept in the body of every concept_. - -How this large and general fact is to be met by my antagonists I know -not. It certainly does not satisfy the case to say, with Professor Max -Müller,[277] Noiré,[278] and those who think with them, that in no -other way could the growth of conceptual thought have been possible; -for this is merely to reiterate on _a priori_ grounds the conclusion -which I have reached _a posteriori_. And the more that this historical -priority of denotation can thus be shown an _a priori_ necessity to the -subsequent genesis of denomination, the greater becomes the cogency -of our evidence _a posteriori_ that, as a matter of fact, such has -been invariably the order of historical succession. For, if conceptual -ideation differs from receptual in kind, why this necessity for the -historical priority of the latter? Why should denotation thus always -require to precede denomination—or receptual connotation thus always -require to precede conceptual predication—unless it be that the one -is a further and a continuous development of the other? Surely as well -might the botanist institute a specific distinction between the root -and the flower of the self-same plant, as the psychologist, with these -results of philological research before him, still persist in drawing -a distinction of kind between the receptual denotation of “radical -elements,” and the full efflorescence of conceptual thought. - -A single illustration may serve to convey the force of this argument -more fully than any abstract discussion of it. But I will introduce the -illustration with an analogous case. The following well-established -fact I quote from Geiger:— - -“Man had language before he had tools.... On considering a word -denoting an activity carried on with a tool, we shall invariably -find that this was not its original meaning, but that it previously -implied a similar activity requiring only the natural organs.... -This fact of the activity with implements deriving its name from -one more simple, ancient, and brute-like, is quite universal, and -I do not know how otherwise to account for it but that the name is -older than the activity with tools which it denotes at the present -time—that, in fact, the word was already extant before men used any -other organs but the native and natural ones.... The vestiges of his -earliest conceptions still preserved in language proclaim it loudly and -distinctly that man has developed from a state in which he had solely -to rely on the aid of his organs—a state, therefore, in which he -differed little in his habits from the brute creation, and with respect -to the enjoyment of his existence, nay, to his preservation, depended -almost entirely on whatever lucky chance presented to him.”[279] - -Now, to this special illustration on the general principle of -“fundamental metaphor” it will doubtless be said—Very interesting in -itself; but, after all, it merely amounts to a philological proof that -tools are younger than words; that men did not always possess tools; -that tools were gradually invented; and that, when invented, they were -named by a metaphorical application of words previously in use.—Well, -if we are all agreed so far, I will proceed to adduce my illustration. - -Judging from the now extensive literature which is opposed to -evolutionary teaching in the case of man, I gather that the great -majority of writers are quite as much impressed by the moral and -religious aspects of human psychology as they are by the intellectual. -Now, as already stated in the Preface, I reserve for a future volume -a full consideration of these distinctively human faculties. In the -present part of my work I am concerned exclusively with the question -as to the origin of those powers of conceptual thought which, under -any point of view, must be regarded as the necessary and antecedent -condition to the possibility both of conscience and religion. -Nevertheless, merely for the sake of supplying an illustration touching -the point now before us, I may here forestall a little of what I shall -hereafter have to present in detail touching the evidence that we have -of the genesis of conscience. And this I will do by another quotation -from the same philologist, seeing that he is an authority whom none of -my opponents can afford to ignore. - -“If we examine the words, those oldest pre-historic testimonies, -we shall find that all moral notions contain something morally -indifferent.” That is to say, they all contain what I have termed -a “receptual core,” expressive of some simple physical process, -or condition, the name of which has been afterwards transferred, -by “fundamental metaphor,” to the moral “concept.” Omitting the -illustrations, the passage continues as follows:—“But why have not -the morally good and bad their own names in language? Why do we know -them from something else that previously had its appellation? Evidently -because language dates from a period when a moral judgment, a knowledge -of good and evil, had not yet dawned in the human mind.”[280] - -Now, at present I am not concerned with this conclusion, further than -to remark that I do not see how it is to be obviated, if our previous -agreement is to stand with regard to the precisely analogous case -of the names of tools. That is to say, if any one allows that the -philological evidence is sufficient to prove the priority of words -to the tools which they designate, consistency must constrain him -also to allow that the fundamental concepts of morality are of later -origin than the names by which they have been baptized, and in virtue -of which they must be regarded as having become concepts at all. -These names—just like the names of tools—were all originally of -nothing more than pre-conceptual significance, serving to denote such -obvious physical states or activities as were immediately cognizable -by the powers of sensuous perception and direct association. Then, -as the moral sense began to dawn, and the utilitarian significance -of conduct as ethical began to be appreciated, the principles of -“fundamental metaphor” were applied to the naming of these newly found -concepts—presumably at about the same time as these same principles -were applied to the naming of newly found tools. - -Now, this is only one illustration out of a practically infinite number -of others which it would be easy to quote—seeing, indeed, as Whitney -observes, that “we can hardly write a line without giving illustrations -of this kind of linguistic growth.” And whatever may be thought (at -this premature stage of our inquiry) concerning the application of -the general principle before us to the special case of conscience, -it appears to me there can be no question at all that this general -principle of “fundamental metaphor” reveals the fact of an intellectual -growth from what I have called the pre-conceptual to the conceptual -phase; and, moreover, that it proves such a growth to have been the -universal characteristic of human faculty in those pre-historic times -of which language preserves to us the only record.[281] - - * * * * * - -There still remains one other department of philological inquiry to -be considered, and its consideration will tend yet further and most -forcibly to corroborate all the general conclusions already attained. -Hitherto we have been engaged for the most part on what I have already -called the palæontology of human thought as revealed, fossil-like, in -the linguistic petrifactions of pre-historic man. But the science of -comparative philology is not confined in its researches upon early -forms of speech to the bygone remnants of a distant age. On the -contrary, just like the science of comparative anatomy, it is furnished -with still existing materials for study, which are of the nature of -living organisms, and which present so many grades of evolution that -the lowest members of the series bring us within easy distance of -those aboriginal forms which can only be studied in the fossil state. -Hitherto I have considered these lowest existing languages only with -reference to their forms of predication. Here I desire to consider them -with reference to the quality of ideation that they betoken. - -In the next instalment of my work I shall have to treat of the -psychology of savages, and then it will become apparent that there -is no very precise relation to be constantly traced between grades -of mental evolution in general, and of language-development in -particular. Nevertheless there is a general relation: and therefore -it is among the lowest savages that we meet with the lowest types -of language-structure.[282] In the present connection I shall have -to treat of these languages only in so far as they throw light upon -the quality of ideation with which they are concerned, or so far as -they are related to the general principles with which we have already -been occupied. And, even as thus limited, I will endeavour to make my -exposition as brief as possible. - -I will begin by supplying a few quotations from the more competent -authorities who have written upon the subject from a linguistic point -of view. - -“It requires but the feeblest power of abstraction—a power even -possessed by idiots—to use a name as the sign of a conception, -_e.g._ to say ‘sun’;[283]—to say ‘sheen,’ as the description of a -phenomenon common to all shining objects, is a higher effort, and to -say ‘to shine’ as expressive of the state or act is higher still. Now, -familiar as such efforts may be to us, there is ample proof that they -could not have been so to the inventors of language, because they are -not so, even now, to some nations of mankind after all their long -millenniums of existence. Instances of this fact have been repeatedly -adduced.”[284] Thus, for example, the Society Islanders have separate -words for dog’s-tail, bird’s-tail, sheep’s-tail, &c., but no word for -tail itself—_i.e._ tail in general.[285] The Mohicans have words to -signify different kinds of cutting, but no verb “to cut;” and forms -for “I love him,” “I love you,” &c., but no verb “to love;” while the -Choctanis have names for different species of oak, but no word for the -genus oak.[286] Again, the Australians have no word for tree, or even -for bird, fish, &c.;[287] and the Eskimo, although he has verbs which -signify to fish-seal, to fish-whale, &c., has not any verb “to fish.” -“Ces langues,” Du Ponceau remarks, “généralisent rarement;” and he -shows that they have not even any verb to imply “I will,” or “I wish,” -although they have separate verbal forms for “I wish to eat meat,” -“I wish to eat soup;” neither have they any general noun-substantive -which means “a blow,” although they have a variety which severally mean -blows with as many different kinds of instruments.[288] Similarly, Mr. -Crawford tells us, “the Malay is very deficient in abstract words; and -the usual train of ideas of the people who speak it does not lead them -to make a frequent use even of the few they possess. With this poverty -of the abstract is united a redundancy of the concrete,”—and he gives -many instances of the same kind as those above rendered from other -languages.[289] So, likewise, we are told, “the dialect of the Zulus is -rich in nouns denoting different objects of the same genus, according -to some variety of colour, or deficiency of members, or some other -peculiarity,” such as “white-cow,” “red-cow,” “brown-cow;”[290] and the -Sechuâna has no fewer than ten words all meaning “horned cattle.”[291] -Cheroki presents thirteen different verbs to signify different kinds -of washing, without any to indicate “washing” itself;[292] and Milligan -says that the aborigines of Tasmania had “no words representing -abstract ideas; for each variety of gum-tree, wattle-tree, &c., they -had a name, but they had no equivalent for the expression of ‘a tree;’ -neither could they express abstract qualities, such as hard, soft, -warm, cold, long, short, round.”[293] - -Lastly, to give only one other example, Dr. Latham states that a Kurd -of the Zaza tribe, who furnished Dr. Sandwith with a list of native -words, was not “able to conceive a hand or father, except so far as -they were related to himself, or something else; and so essentially -concrete rather than abstract were his notions, that he combined the -pronoun with the substantive whenever he had a part of the human body -or a degree of consanguinity to name,” saying _sere-min_, “my head,” -and _pie-min_, “my father.” - -Thus, as Professor Sayce remarks, after alluding to some of the above -facts, “we may be sure that it was not “the ‘ideas of prime importance’ -which primitive man struggled to represent, but those individual -objects of which his senses were cognisant.”[294] And, without further -multiplying testimony, we may now be prepared to accept from him the -general statement that, “all over the world, indeed, wherever we come -across a savage race, or an individual who has been unaffected by the -civilization around him, we find this primitive inability to separate -the particular from the universal by isolating the individual word, -and extracting it, as it were, from the ideas habitually associated -with it.”[295] Or, in my own phraseology, among all primitive races -still existing, we meet with what must seem to my opponents a wholly -unintelligible incapacity to evolve a concept from any number of -recepts, notwithstanding that the latter may all be most nearly -related together, and severally named by as many denotative signs: -even with their numberless already-formed words for different kinds -of trees, the aborigines of Tasmania could not designate “a tree.” -Of course they must have had a recept of a tree, or a generic image -formed out of innumerable perceptions of particular trees—so that, -for instance, it would doubtless have surprised a Tasmanian could he -have seen a tree (even though it were a new species for which he had no -name) standing inverted with its roots in the air and its branches in -the ground. In just the same way a dog is surprised when it first sees -a man walking on his hands: the dog will bark at such an object because -it conflicts with the generic image which has been automatically formed -by numberless perceptions of individual men walking on their feet. -But, in the absence of any name for trees in general, there is nothing -to show that the savage has a concept answering to “tree,” any more -than that the dog has a concept answering to “man.” Indeed, unless my -opponents vacate the basis of Nominalism on which their opposition is -founded, they must acknowledge that in the absence of any _name_ for -tree there _can be no conception_ of tree. - -So much, then, for what Archdeacon Farrar has called “_the hopeless -poverty of the power of abstraction_” in savages. Their various -languages unite, in verbal testimony, to assure us that human thought -does _not_ “proceed from the abstract to the concrete;” but, on the -contrary, that in the race, as in the individual, receptual ideation is -the precursor of conceptual—denotation the antecedent of denomination, -as in still earlier stages it was itself preceded by gesticulation. -Such being the case with regard to names, it is no wonder, as we -previously found, that low savages are so extraordinarily deficient in -their forms of predication. - - * * * * * - -The palæontology of human thought, then, as recorded in language, -incontestibly proves that the origin and progress of ideation in -the race was psychologically identical with what we now observe in -the individual. All the stages of ideation which we have seen to be -characteristic of psychogenesis in a child, are thus revealed to us as -having been characteristic of psychogenesis in mankind. - -First there was the indicative stage. This is proved in two ways. On -the one hand, all philologists will now agree with Geiger—“But, what -says more than anything, language diminishes the further we look back, -in such a way that we cannot forbear concluding it must once have had -no existence at all.”[296] On the other hand, even if we tap the tree -of language as high up in its stem as the pronominal roots of Sanskrit, -what is the kind of ideational sap which flows therefrom? It is, as we -have already seen, so strongly suggestive of gesture and grimace that -even Professor Max Müller allows that in it we have “remnants of the -earliest and almost pantomimic phase of language, in which language was -hardly as yet what we mean by language, namely _logos_, a gathering, -but only a pointing.”[297] - -Secondly, we have clear evidence of sentence-words, as well as of -what I have called the denotative phase, or the naming of simple -recepts—whether only of actions, or, as we may safely assume, -likewise also of objects and qualities; and whether arbitrarily, -or, as seems virtually certain, in chief part by onomatopœia. Both -these subordinate points, however—which are rendered more doubtful -on account of the struggle for existence among words having proved -favourable to denotative terms expressive of actions, and unfavourable -to the survival of onomatopœia—are of comparatively little moment to -us; the important fact is the one which is most clearly testified to by -the philological record, namely, that the lowest strata of this record -yield fossils of the lowest order of development: the “121 concepts,” -appear to be, for the most part, denotations of simple recepts. - -Thirdly, higher up in the stratified deposits, we meet with -overwhelming evidence of the connotative extension of these denotative -terms. Indeed, many of these terms have probably undergone a certain -amount of connotative extension as the condition to their having -survived as roots; and, therefore, in these lowest deposits it is -difficult to be sure that an apparently denotative term is not really a -term which has undergone the earlier stages of connotative extension. -If such were the case, we can understand the loss of any onomatopoetic -significance which it may originally have presented. But, however this -may be, there is an endless mass of evidence to prove the subsequent -and continuous growth of connotative extension throughout the whole -range of philological time. - -Lastly, as regards the predicative phase, we have seen that philology -shows the same order and method to have been followed in the race as -in the child. In the growing child, as we have seen, pre-conceptual -predication is contemporary with—or occupies the same psychological -level as—the connotative extension of denotative terms. Indeed, the -very act of connotation is in itself an act of predication—if in the -conceptual sphere, of conceptual predication (denomination); if in -the pre-conceptual, of pre-conceptual. Again, in the psychogenesis of -the child we noted how important a part is played in the development -of pre-conceptual predication by the mere apposition of connotative -terms—such apposition being rendered inevitable by the laws of -association. If A is the connotative name for _A_, B the connotative -name for _B_, when the young child sees that _A_ and _B_ occur -together, the statement A B is rendered inevitable by “the logic of -events;” and this statement is a pre-conceptual proposition. Now, -in both these respects philology yields abundant parallels. The -quotations which I have given conclusively prove that “every word -must originally have been a sentence;” or, in my own terminology, a -pre-conceptual proposition of precisely the same kind as that which is -employed by a young child. If it be replied that the young child is -without self-consciousness, while the primitive man was not without -self-consciousness, this would merely be to beg the whole question on -which we are engaged, and, moreover, to beg it in the teeth of every -antecedent probability, as well as of every actual analogy, to which -appeal can possibly be made. If it be true—and who will venture to -doubt it?—that “language diminishes the further we look back, in -such a way that we cannot forbear concluding it must once have had no -existence at all,” will it be maintained that the man-like being who -was then unable to communicate with his fellows by means of any words -at all was gifted with self-consciousness? Should so absurd a statement -be ventured, it would be fatal to the argument of my adversaries; for -the statement would imply, either that concepts may exist without -names, or that self-consciousness may exist without concepts. The -truth of the matter is that philology has proved, in a singularly -complete manner, the origin and gradual development in time, first of -pre-conceptual communication, and next of the self-consciousness which -supplied the basis of conceptual predication. No wonder, therefore, -as Professor Max Müller somewhat naively observes, “it may be said -that the first step in the formation of names and concepts is very -imperfect. So it is.” Truly “to name the act of carrying by a root -formed from sounds which accompany the act of carrying a heavy load, -is a far more primitive act than to fix an attribute by a name” -conceptually applied. So primitive, indeed, is nomination of this -kind, that I defy any one to show wherein it differs psychologically -from what I have called the denotation of a young child, or even of a -talking bird. - -And, having reduced the matter to this issue so far as the results of -philology are concerned, I may fitly conclude by briefly indicating -the principal point which appears to divide my opinions from those -of the eminent philologist just alluded to—if not also from those -of the majority of my psychological opponents. Briefly, the point is -that on the other side an unwarrantable assumption is made—to wit, -that conceptual thought is an antecedent condition, _sine quâ non_, to -any and every act of bestowing a name; and, _a fortiori_, to any and -every act of predication. This is the fundamental assumption, which, -whether openly expressed or covertly implied, serves as the basis of -the whole superstructure of my opponents’ argument. Now, I claim to -have shown, by a complete inductive proof, that this assumption is not -only unwarrantable in theory, but false in fact. There are names and -names. Not every name that is bestowed betokens conceptual thought on -the part of the namer. Alike from the case of the talking bird, of the -young child, and of early man (so far as he has left any traces of his -psychology in the structure of language), I have demonstrated that -prior to the stage of denomination there are the stages of indication, -denotation, and receptual connotation. These are the psychological -stepping-stones across that “Rubicon of Mind,” which, owing to their -neglect, has seemed to be impassable. The Concept (and, _a fortiori_, -the Proposition) is not a structure of ideation which is presented to -us without a developmental history. Although it has been uniformly -assumed by all my opponents “that the simplest element of thought” can -have had no such history, the assumption is, as I have said, directly -contradicted by observable fact. Had the case been otherwise—had -the concept really been without father and without mother, without -beginning of days or end of life—then truly a case might have been -shown for regarding it as an entity _sui generis_, destitute of kith -or kin among all the other faculties of mind. But, as we have now so -fully seen, no such unique exception to the otherwise uniform process -of evolution can here be maintained: the phases of development which -have gradually led up to conceptual thought admit of being as clearly -traced as those which have led to any other product, whether of life or -of mind. - -Here, then, I bring to a close this brief and imperfect rendering of -the “Witness of Philology.” But, brief and imperfect as the rendering -is, I am honestly unable to see how it is conceivable that the witness -itself could have been more uniform as to its testimony, or more -multifarious as to its facts—more consistent, more complete, or more -altogether overwhelming than we have found it to be. In almost every -single respect it has corroborated the results of our psychological -analysis. It has come forward like a living thing, which, in the very -voice of Language itself, directly and circumstantially narrates to -us the actual history of a process the constituent phases of which we -had previously inferred. It has told us of a time when as yet mankind -were altogether speechless, and able to communicate with one another -only by means of gesticulation and grimace. It has described to us -the first articulate sounds in the form of sentence-words, without -significance apart from the pointings by which they were accompanied. -It has revealed the gradual differentiation of such a protoplasmic form -of language into “parts of speech;” and declared that these grammatical -structures were originally the offspring of gesture-signs. More -particularly, it has shown that in the earliest stages of articulate -utterance pronominal elements, and even predicative words, were used -in the impersonal manner which belongs to a hitherto undeveloped form -of self-consciousness—primitive man, like a young child, having -therefore spoken of his own personality in objective terminology. -It has taught us to find in the body of every conceptual term a -pre-conceptual core; so that, as the learned and thoughtful Garnett -says, “_nihil in oratione quod non prius in sensu_ may now be regarded -as an incontrovertible axiom.”[298] It has minutely described the whole -of that wonderful aftergrowth of articulate utterance through many -lines of divergent evolution, in virtue of which all nations of the -earth are now in possession, in one degree or another, of the god-like -attributes of reason and of speech. Truly, as Archdeacon Farrar says, -“to the flippant and the ignorant, how ridiculous is the apparent -inadequacy of the origin to produce such a result.”[299] But here, as -elsewhere, it is the method of evolution to bring to nought the things -that are mighty by the things that are of no reputation; and when we -feel disposed to boast ourselves in that we alone may claim the Logos, -should we not do well to pause and remember in what it was that this -our high prerogative arose? “So hat auch keine Sprache ein abstractum, -zu dem sie nicht durch Ton und Gefühl gelangt wäre.”[300] To my mind -it is simply inconceivable that any stronger proof of mental evolution -could be furnished, than is furnished in this one great fact by the -whole warp and woof of the thousand dialects of every pattern which -are now spread over the surface of the globe. We cannot speak to each -other in any tongue without declaring the pre-conceptual derivation of -our speech; we cannot so much as discuss the “origin of human faculty” -itself, without announcing, in the very medium of our discussion, -what that origin has been. It is to Language that my opponents have -appealed: by Language they are hopelessly condemned. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -THE TRANSITION IN THE RACE. - - -At this point I shall doubtless be expected to offer some remarks -on the probable mode of transition between the brute and the human -being. Having so fully considered both the psychology and philology of -ideation, it may be thought that I am now in a position to indicate -what I suppose to have been the actual stepping-stones whereby an -intelligent species of ape can be conceived to have crossed “the -Rubicon of Mind.” But, if I am expected to do this, I might reasonably -decline, for two reasons. - -In the first place, the attempt, even if it could be successful, would -be superfluous. The only objection I have had to meet is one which has -been raised on grounds of psychology. This objection I have met, and -met upon its own grounds. If I have been successful, for the purposes -of argument nothing more remains to be said. If I have not been -successful, it is obviously impossible to strengthen my case by going -beyond the known facts of mind, as they actually exist before us, to -any hypothetical possibilities of mind in the dim ages of an unrecorded -past. - -In the second place, any remarks which I have to offer upon this -subject must needs be of a wholly speculative or unverifiable -character. As well might the historian spend his time in suggesting -hypothetical histories of events known to have occurred in a -pre-historic age: his evidence that such and such events must have -occurred may be conclusive, and yet he may be quite in the dark as -to the precise conditions which led up to them, the time which was -occupied by them, and the particular method of their occurrence. In -such cases it often happens that the more certain an historian may be -that such and such an event did take place, the greater is the number -of ways in which he sees that it might have taken place. Merely for the -sake of showing that this is likewise the case in the matter now before -us, I will devote the present chapter to a consideration of three -alternative—and equally hypothetical—histories of the transition. -But, from what has just been said, I hope it will be understood that I -attach no argumentative importance to any of these hypotheses. - - * * * * * - -Sundry German philologists have endeavoured to show that speech -originated in wholly meaningless sounds, which in the first instance -were due to merely physiological conditions. In their opinion the -purely reflex mechanisms connected with vocalization would have -been sufficient to yield not only many differences of tone under -different states as to suffering, pleasure, effort, &c., but even the -germ of articulation in the meaningless utterance of vowel sounds -and consonants. Thus, for example, Lazarus says:—“Der Process der -eigenthümlich menschlichen Laut-Erzeugung, die Articulation der Tone, -die Hervorbringung von Vocalen und Consonanten, ist demnach auf -rein physiologischem Boden gegeben—in der urprünglichen Natur des -menschlichen physischen bewegten Organismus begründet, und wird vor -aller Willkür und Absicht also ohne Einwirkung des Geistes obwohl auf -Veranlassung von Gefühlen und Empfindungen vollzogen.”[301] - -This, it will be observed, is the largest possible extension of -the interjectional theory of the origin of speech. It assumes that -not only inarticulate, but also articulate sounds were given forth -by the “sprachlosen Urmenschen,” in the way of instinctive cries, -wholly destitute of any semiotic intention. By repeated association, -however, they are supposed to have acquired, as it were automatically, -a semiotic value. For, to quote Professor Friedrich Müller, “Sie -sind zwar Anfangs bedeutungslos: sie können aber bedeutungsvoll -werden. Alles, was in unserem Inneren vorgeht, wird von der Seele -wahrgenommen. Sobald durch gewisse aüssere Einflüsse in Folge einer -Combination mehrerer Empfindungen eine Anschauung entsteht, nimmt die -Seele dieselbe an, Diese Anschauung hat—in Folge der durch eine der -Empfindungen hervorgebrachten Reflexbewegung in den Stimmorganen—einen -Laut zum Begleiter, welcher in gleicher Weise wie die Anschauung von -der Seele wahrgenommen wird, diese beiden Wahrnehmungen, nämlich jene -der Anschauung und jene des Lautes, _verbinden_ sich miteinander -vermöge ihrer _Gleichzeitigkeit_ im menschlichen Bewusstsein, es -findet also eine _Association_ der Laut-Anschauung mit jener der -_Sach_-Anschauung statt, die Elemente der Sach-Anschauung bekommen -an der Laute-Anschauung einen _festen_ Mittelpunkt, durch den die -_Anschauung_ zur _Vorstellung_ sich entwickelt. Wir sind damit bei -der menschlichen Sprache angelangt, welche also ihrem Wesen nach auf -der _Substituirung_ eines _Klang_-oder _Ton_bildes für das Bild einer -Anschauung beruht.”[302] - -Now, without at all doubting the important part which originally -meaningless sounds may have played in furnishing material for vocal -sign-making, and still less disputing the agency of association in -the matter, I must nevertheless refuse to accept the above hypothesis -as anything like a full explanation of the origin of speech. For it -manifestly ignores the whole problem which stands to be solved—namely, -the genesis of those powers of ideation which first put a soul of -meaning into the previously insignificant sounds. Nearly all the -warm-blooded animals so far share with mankind the same physiological -nature as to give forth a variety of vocal sounds under as great a -variety of mental states. Therefore, if in accordance with the above -hypothesis we regard all such sounds as meaningless (or arising from -the “purely physiological basis” of reflex movement), the question -obviously presents itself, Why have not the lower animals developed -speech? According to the above doctrine, aboriginal and hitherto -speechless man started without any superiority in respect of the -sign-making faculty, and thus far precisely resembled what is taken -to be the present psychological condition of the lower animals.[303] -Why, then, out of the same original conditions has there arisen -so enormous a difference of result? If, in the case of mankind, -associations of meaningless sounds with particular states, objects, -&c., led to a substitution of the former for the latter, and thus -gave to them the significance of names, how are we to account for the -total absence of any such development in brutes? To me it appears -that this is clearly an unanswerable difficulty; and therefore I do -not wonder that the so-called interjectional theory of the origin of -speech has brought discredit on the whole philosophy of the subject. -But, as so often happens in philosophical writings, we have here a -case where an important truth is damaged by imperfect or erroneous -presentation. All the principles set forth in the above hypothesis -are sound in themselves, but the premiss from which they start is -untrue. This premiss is, that aboriginal man presented no rudiments -of the sign-making faculty—that this faculty itself required to be -originated _de novo_ by accidental associations of sounds with things. -But, as we now well know from all the facts previously given, even -the lower animals present the sign-making faculty in no mean degree -of development; and, therefore, it is perfectly certain that the -“Urmenschen,” at the time when they were “sprachlosen,” were not on -this account _zeichenlosen_. The psychological germ of communication, -which probably could not have been created by merely accidental -associations between sounds and things, must already have been given in -those psychological conditions of receptual ideation which are common -to all intelligent animals. - -But to this all-essential germ, as thus given, I doubt not that the -soil of such associations as the interjectional theory has in view -must have been of no small importance; for this would naturally help -to nourish its semiotic nature. And the reason why the similar germ of -sign-making which occurs in the brute creation has not been similarly -nurtured, I have already considered in Chapter VIII. For, it is -needless to add, on every ground I disagree with the above quotations -where they represent articulate sounds as having been aboriginally -uttered by “Urmenschen” in the way of instinctive cries, without any -vestige of semiotic intention.[304] - - * * * * * - -I will now pass on to consider the two other hypotheses; and by way of -introduction to both we must remember that our materials of study on -the side of the apes is very limited. I do not mean only that no single -representative of any of the anthropoid apes has ever been made the -object of even so much observation with respect to its intelligence -as I bestowed upon a cebus. Yet this, no doubt, is an important -point, because we know that of all quadrumana—and, therefore, of all -existing animals—the anthropoid apes are the most intelligent, and, -therefore, if specially trained would probably display greater aptitude -in the matter of sign-making than is to be met with in any other kind -of brute. But I do not press this point. What I now refer to is the -fact that the existing species of anthropoid apes are very few in -number, and appear to be all on the high-road to extinction. Moreover, -it is certain that none of these existing species can have been the -progenitor of man; and, lastly, it is equally certain that the extinct -species (or genus) which did give origin to man must have differed in -several important respects from any of its existing allies. In the -first place, it must have been more social in habits; and, in the next -place, it was probably more vociferous than the orang, the gorilla, -or the chimpanzee. That there is no improbability in either of these -suppositions will be at once apparent if we remember that both are -amply sustained by analogies among existing and allied species of -the monkey tribe. Or, to state these preliminary considerations in a -converse form, when it is assumed[305] that because the few existing -and expiring species of anthropoid apes are unsocial and comparatively -silent, therefore the simian ancestors of man must have been so, it is -enough to point to the variability of both these habits among certain -allied genera of monkeys and baboons, in order at the same time to -dispose of the assumption, and to indicate the probable reasons why one -genus of ape gradually became evolved into _Homo_, while all the allied -genera became, or are still becoming, extinct. - -Again, and still by way of preliminary consideration, we must remember -that the analogy of the growing child, although most valuable up to a -certain point, is not to be unreservedly followed where we have to deal -with the genesis of speech. For, as previously noted, to the infancy of -the individual language is supplied from without, and has only to be -learnt; while to the infancy of the race language was not supplied, but -had to be made. Therefore, even apart from any question of heredity, -we have here an immense difference in the psychological conditions -between the case of a growing child and that of aboriginal man. Only -in so far as the growing child displays the tendency on which I have -dwelt of spontaneously extending the significance of denotative words, -or of spontaneously using such words in apposition for the purpose of -pre-conceptual predication—only to this extent may we hope to find any -true analogy between the individual and the race in respect of that -“transition” from receptual to conceptual ideation with which we are -now concerned.[306] - -There is another preliminary consideration which I think is well worth -mentioning. The philologist Geiger is led by his study of language -to entertain, and somewhat elaborately to sustain, the following -doctrine. First he points out that man, much more than any other -animal, uses the sense of sight for the purposes of perceptual life. -By this he does not mean that man possesses a keener vision than -any other animal, but merely that of all his special senses that of -sight is most habitually used for taking cognizance of the external -world. And this, I think, must certainly be admitted. Even a hitherto -speechless infant may be seen to observe objects at great distances, -carefully to investigate objects which it holds in its hands, and -generally to employ its eyes much more effectively than any of the -lower animals at a comparable stage of development. Now, from this -relative superiority of the sense of sight in man, Geiger argues that -before the origin of articulate speech he, more than any other animal, -must have been accustomed to communicate with his fellows by means of -signs which appealed to that sense—_i.e._ by gesture and grimace. But, -if this be admitted, it follows that from the time when a particular -species of the order Primates began to use its eyesight more than the -allied species, a condition was given favourable to the subsequent -and gradual development of a gesticulating form of ape-like creature. -Here grimace also would have played an important part, and where -attention was particularly directed towards movements of the mouth for -semiotic purposes, articulate sounds would begin to acquire more or -less conventional significations. In this way Geiger supposes that the -conditions required for the origin of articulate signs were laid down; -and, in view of all that he says, it certainly is suggestive that the -animal which relies most upon the sense of sight is also the animal -which has made so prodigious an advance in the faculty of sign-making. -In this greater reliance on the sense of sight, therefore, we probably -have another among the many and complex conditions which determined the -difference in respect of sign-making between the remote progenitors -of man and their nearest zoological allies—a difference which would -naturally become more and more pronounced the more that vision and -gesticulation acted and reacted on one another. - -It appears to me that this suggestion of Geiger admits of being -strikingly supported by certain facts which are known to obtain in the -case of deaf-mutes. Even when wholly uneducated, the born mute, as -we have previously seen, habitually invents articulate sounds as his -own names of things. These sounds are, of course, unheard by the mute -himself, and their use must be ascribed—as I have already ascribed -it—to the hereditary transmission of an acquired propensity. But the -point now is that, although the majority of these articulate sounds -appear to be wholly arbitrary (_e.g._ _ga_ for “one,” _schuppatter_ -for “two,” _riecke_ for “I will not”), a certain proportion are often -clearly traceable to vocalizations incidental to movements of the -mouth in performing the actions signified (_e.g._ _mumm_ for “eating,” -_schipp_ for “drinking”).[307] Similarly, observation of a dog’s -mouth, while in the act of barking, leads to an imitative action on -the part of a mute as his sign for a dog, and this in turn may lead -to the utterance of such an articulate sound as _be-yer_, which the -mute afterwards uses as his name for a dog.[308] Now, if words may -thus be coined even by deaf-mutes as a result of observing movements -of the mouth, much more is this likely to have been the case among the -“Urmenschen,” who were able not only to see the movements, but also to -hear the sounds. - - * * * * * - -I will now adduce the two hypotheses above alluded to as conceivable -suggestions touching the mode of transition. First, let us try to -imagine an anthropoid ape, social in habits, using its voice somewhat -extensively as an organ of sign-making after the manner of all other -species of social quadrumana, and possibly somewhat more sagacious -than the orang-outang mentioned in my previous work,[309] or the -remarkable chimpanzee now in the Zoological Gardens, which, in respect -of intelligence as well as comparative hairlessness and carnivorous -propensities, appears to be the most human-like of animals hitherto -discovered in the living state.[310] It does not seem to me difficult -further to imagine that such an animal should extend the vocal signs -which it habitually employs in the expression of its emotions and the -logic of its recepts, to an association with gesture-signs, so as to -constitute sentence-words indicative of such simple and often-repeated -ideas as the presence of danger, discovery of food, &c. Nay, I do not -think it is too much to suppose that such an animal may even have gone -so far as to make sounds which were denotative of a few of the most -familiar objects, such as food, child, enemy, &c., and also, possibly, -of frequently repeated forms of activity; for this, as I have shown at -considerable length, is no more than we actually observe to be done by -animals which are lower in the scale of intelligence; and although it -is not done by articulate signs (except in the psychologically poor -instance of talking birds), this, as I have also shown, is a matter -of no psychological import. Whether the denotative stage of language -in the ape was first reached by articulation, or (as I think is very -much more probable) by vocal sounds of other kinds assisted by gestures -and grimace, is similarly immaterial. In either case the advance of -intelligence which would thus have been secured would in time have -reacted upon the sign-making faculty, and so have led to the extension -of the vocabulary, both as to sounds and gestures. Sooner or later the -vocal signs—assisted out by gestures and ever leading to a gradual -advance of intelligence—would have become more or less conventional, -and so, in the presence of suitable anatomical and social conditions, -articulate. Thus far I cannot see anything to stumble over, when we -remember all that has been said upon the conventional signs which are -used by the more intelligent of our domesticated animals, and even by -talking birds.[311] - -This is the hypothesis which is countenanced by Mr. Darwin in his -_Descent of Man_. He says:—“I cannot doubt that language owes its -origin to the imitation and modification of various natural sounds, -the voices of other animals, and man’s own instinctive cries, aided by -signs and gestures.... Since monkeys certainly understand much that -is said to them by man, and, when wild, utter signal-cries of danger -to their fellows; and since fowls give distinct warnings for danger -on the ground, or in the sky from hawks (both, as well as a third -cry, intelligible to dogs),[312] may not some unusually wise ape-like -animal have imitated the growl of a beast of prey, and thus told his -fellow-monkeys the nature of the expected danger? This would have been -a first step in the formation of a language.”[313] - -But Mr. Darwin adds another feature to the hypothesis now under -consideration, as follows:— - -“When we treat of sexual selection we shall see that primæval man, or -rather some early progenitor of man, probably first used his voice in -producing true musical cadences, that is in singing, as do some of the -gibbon-apes at the present day; and we may conclude, from a widely -spread analogy, that this power would have been especially exerted -during the courtship of the sexes,—would have expressed various -emotions, such as love, jealousy, triumph,—and would have served as -a challenge to rivals. It is, therefore, probable that the imitation -of musical cries by articulate sounds may have given rise to words -expressive of various complex emotional states.”[314] - - * * * * * - -Such, then, is one way in which it appears to me quite conceivable -that the faculty of articulate sign-making might have taken the first -step towards the formation of speech. But, not to go further than this -first step, I can see another possibility as to the precise method of -attainment, and one which I think is still more probable. It is the -opinion of some authorities in anthropology that speech was probably, -and comparatively speaking, late in making its appearance; so that -our ancestors in whom it did first appear were already more human -than simian, and as such deserving of the name _Homo alalus_.[315] -Now, if this were the case, the course of our hypothetical history -would be even more easy to imagine than it was under the supposition -previously considered. For, under the present supposition, we start -with an already man-like creature, erect in attitude, much more -intelligent than any other animal, shaping flints to serve as tools and -weapons, living in tribes or societies, and able in no small degree -to communicate the logic of his recepts by means of gesture-signs, -facial expressions, and vocal tones. Clearly, from such an origin, the -subsequent evolution of sign-making in the direction of articulate -sounds would be an even more easy matter to imagine than under the -previous hypothesis. For, let us try to imagine a community of _Homo -alalus_, considerably more intelligent than the existing anthropoid -apes, although still considerably below the intellectual level of -existing savages. It is certain that in such a community natural signs -of voice, gesture, and grimace would be in vogue to a greater or -less extent.[316] As their numbers increased (and, consequently, as -natural selection laid a greater and greater premium on intelligent -co-operation, as in the case of social insects),[317] such signs -would require to become more and more conventional, or acquire more -and more the character of sentence-words and denotative signs.[318] -Now, where the signs were vocal, the only ways in which they could -be developed so as to meet this need would be, (1) conventional -modulations of intensity, (2) of pitch, and (3) of time-intervals. But -clearly, neither modulations of intensity nor of pitch could carry -improvement very far, seeing that the human voice does not admit of -any great range of either. Consequently, if any improvement at all -were to be effected—and it was bound to be effected, if possible, by -natural selection,—it could only be so in the direction of modulating -time-intervals between vocal sounds. Now, such a modulation of -time-intervals is the beginning of _articulation_. - -That is to say, the first articulation probably consisted in nothing -further than a semiotic breaking of vocal tones, in a manner resembling -that which still occurs in the so-called “chattering” of monkeys—the -natural language for the expression of their mental states. The -great difference would be that the semiotic value of such incipient -articulation must have been more largely intellectual, or less purely -emotional: it must have partaken less of the nature of cries, and more -of the nature of names. It seems probable that, as all natural cries -are given forth by the throat and larynx, with little or no assistance -from the tongue and lips, these first efforts at articulation would -have been mainly restricted to vowel sounds, sparsely supplemented by -guttural and labial consonants. This state of matters might have lasted -for an enormous length of time, during which the liquid, and lastly -the lingual consonants would perhaps have begun to be used. This is -the order in which we might expect the consonants to arise, in view of -the consideration that the gutturals and labials would probably have -admitted of more easy pronunciation than the liquids and linguals by an -almost speechless _Homo_.[319] From this point onwards, the further -development of articulation would only be a matter of time and mental -growth; but I think it is highly probable that the initial stages thus -sketched probably occupied a lapse of time out of all proportion to -that which was afterwards required for the higher developments. - -Moreover, in this connection we must not neglect to notice the “clicks” -of the African Bushmen and Hottentots, which appear to furnish us with -direct evidence of the survival among these low races of a primordially -inarticulate system of sign-making.[320] No one has studied the -languages of these peoples with so much labour or so much result as the -philosophically minded Dr. Bleek, and he says that the clicks which -occur in the great majority of their words, “must be made an object of -special attention if we would arrive at even an approximate idea of the -original vocal elements from which human language sprang.”[321] - -The clicks in question are four in number, or, according to Bleek, -“at least six.” They are called the dental, palatal, cerebral, and -lateral. The lateral click is the same as that which is employed by our -own grooms when urging a horse. The dental is also used by European -races as a sound expressive of disappointment, unspeakable contempt, -&c. In books it is usually written “tut, tut,” which serves to show -how hopeless is any attempt at translating a click into any articulate -equivalent. The other two clicks are formed by the tongue operating -upon the roof of the mouth. Some remote idea of the difficulty of -rendering a language of this kind into any alphabetical form, may be -gained by trying to pronounce one of the words which are printed in -our European treatises upon them. For example, the Hottentot word for -“moon” is printed ║ _khãp_, where ║ stands for the lateral click, _kha_ -for a guttural consonant, and ˜ for a nasal twang. - -With reference to this inarticulate kind of sign-making, which thus -so largely prevails among the languages of low races in close organic -connection with articulate, it seems worth while to record the -following observation which was communicated by Professor Haeckel to -Dr. Bleek, and published by the latter in his work already quoted:— - -“The language of apes has not hitherto received from zoologists the -attention which it deserves, and there are no accurate descriptions -of the sounds uttered by them. They are sometimes called ‘howls,’ -sometimes ‘cries,’ ‘clicks,’ ‘roars,’ &c. Now, I have myself frequently -heard in zoological gardens, from apes of very different species, -remarkable clicking sounds, which are produced with the lips, and also, -though not so often, with the tongue; but I have nowhere been able to -find any account of them.” - -Upon the whole, then, it appears to me extremely probable that in these -clicks we have survivals, in lowly developed languages, of a formerly -inarticulate condition of mankind; or, as Professor Sayce remarks from -a philological point of view, “the clicks of the Bushmen still survive -to show us how the utterances of speechless man could be made to embody -and convey thought.”[322] - - * * * * * - -In its main outlines the hypothetical sketch which I have given follows -that which Mr. Darwin has drawn in his _Descent of Man_. As we have -already seen, however, there is this important difference. Mr. Darwin -entertains only the second of the three alternative hypotheses here -presented, or the hypothesis which assumes that the rudiments of -articulate speech began in the “ape-like,” or “early progenitors” of -man. He does not seem to have entertained the idea of _Homo alalus_ as -a connecting link between these early progenitors and _Homo sapiens_. I -may, therefore, here briefly give my reasons for thinking it probable -that this connecting link had an actual existence. - -Let it be observed, in the first place, that there is no antagonism -between the two hypotheses in question—the latter, indeed, being -merely an extension of the former. For the latter adopts all -Mr. Darwin’s views as to the importance of instinctive cries, -danger-signals, &c., for the higher development of sign-making in -that “ape-like animal” which was the brutal progenitor of _Homo -alalus_.[323] Moreover, our hypothesis is entitled to assume, with -Mr. Darwin’s, that this anthropoid ape was presumably not only more -intelligent than any of the few surviving species, but also much -more social. And this is an important point to insist upon, because -it is obvious that the conditions of social life are also the prime -conditions to any considerable advance upon the sign-making faculty as -this occurs in existing apes. The only respect, therefore, in which -the two hypotheses differ is in the one supposing that the faculty of -articulate sign-making was a much later product of evolution than it -is taken to have been by the other. That is to say, while Mr. Darwin’s -hypothesis regards the commencement of articulation as a necessary -condition to any considerable advance upon the receptual intelligence -of our brutal ancestry, the present hypothesis regards it as more -probable that this receptual intelligence was largely developed by -gesture and vocal signs, before the latter can be said to have become -properly articulate—the result being that a creature rather more human -than “ape-like” was evolved, who, nevertheless, was still able to -communicate with his fellows only by means of gesture-signs and vocal -tones. - -My reasons for regarding this hypothesis as more probable than the -other are these. - -First of all, on grounds of psychology, I see no reason to doubt that -the receptual intelligence of an already intelligent and highly social -species of anthropoid ape would admit of considerable advance upon that -of any existing species without the aid of articulation—social habits -making all the difference as to the development of sign-making with -its consequent reaction upon mental development. Next, for these early -stages of advance, I do not see that articulate sign-making would have -conferred any considerable advantage over a further development of the -more natural systems. For, so long as the only co-operation required -had reference to comparatively simple actions, the language of tone -and gesture would have admitted of sufficient development to have met -all requirements. Lastly, if we take the growing child as an index of -psychogenesis in the race, there can be no doubt that it points to a -comparatively late origin of the faculty of articulation. Remembering -the general tendency of ontogenesis to foreshorten the history of -phylogenesis, it is, I think, most suggestive that—notwithstanding -its readiness to imitate, and notwithstanding its being surrounded by -spoken language—the infant does not begin to use articulate signs -until long after it has been able to express many of its receptual -ideas in the language of tone and gesture. It will be remembered that -I have already laid stress upon the astonishing degree of elaboration -which this form of language undergoes in the case of children who are -late in beginning to speak (see pp. 220). And although it might be -scarcely justifiable to take these cases as possibly representative -of the semiotic language of _Homo alalus_ (seeing that the child of -to-day inherits the cerebrum of _Homo sapiens_); still I think it is -no less certain that we should err on the opposite side, if we were -to take the case of a child who is precocious in the matter of speech -as a fair index of the grade of mental evolution at the time when -articulation first began in the race (seeing that the history of the -latter is probably foreshortened in that of the former). Yet, even if -we were to do this, for the sake of argument, the result would still -be most strongly to indicate that long before our remote ancestors -were able to use articulate speech, they were immeasurably in advance -of all existing brutes in their semiotic use of tone and gesture. For -even a precocious child does not begin to make any considerable use of -words as signs until it is well on into its second year, while usually -this stage is not reached until the third. And, at whatever age it -is reached, the general intelligence of the child is not only much -in advance of that of any existing brute, but the direction in which -this advance is most conspicuous is just the direction where, in the -present connection, it is most suggestive—namely, in that of natural -sign-making by tone and gesture. - - * * * * * - -In view, then, of these several considerations, I am disposed to think -that the progress of mental evolution from the brute to the man most -probably took place by some such stages as the following. - -Starting from the highly intelligent and social species of anthropoid -ape as pictured by Darwin, we can imagine that this animal was -accustomed to use its voice freely for the expression of its emotions, -uttering of danger-signals, and singing.[324] Possibly enough, also, it -may have been sufficiently intelligent to use a few imitative sounds -in the arbitrary way that Mr. Darwin suggests; and certainly sooner -or later the receptual life of this social animal must have advanced -far enough to have become comparable with that of an infant at about -two years of age. That is to say, this animal, although not yet having -begun to use articulate signs, must have advanced far enough in the -conventional use of natural signs (or signs with a natural origin in -tone and gesture, whether spontaneous only or intentionally imitative), -to have admitted of a tolerably free exchange of receptual ideas, -such as would be concerned in animal wants, and even, perhaps, in the -simplest forms of co-operative action.[325] Next, I think it probable -that the advance of receptual intelligence which would have been -occasioned by this advance in sign-making, would in turn have led to a -further development of the latter—the two thus acting and re-acting on -one another, until the language of tone and gesture became gradually -raised to the level of imperfect pantomime, as in children before they -begin to use words. At this stage, however, or even before it, I think -very probably vowel-sounds must have been employed in tone-language, -if not also a few of the consonants. And I think this not only on -account of the analogy furnished by an infant already alluded to, but -also because in the case of a “singing” animal, intelligent enough to -be constantly using its voice for semiotic purposes, and therefore -employing a variety of more or less conventional tones, including -clicks, it seems almost necessary that some of the vowel sounds—and -possibly also some of the consonants—should have been brought into -use. But, be this as it may, eventually the action and reaction of -receptual intelligence and conventional sign-making must have ended -in so far developing the former as to have admitted of the breaking -up (or articulation) of vocal sounds, as the only direction in which -any further improvement of vocal sign-making was possible. I think it -not improbable that this important stage in the development of speech -was greatly assisted by the already-existing habit of articulating -musical notes, supposing our progenitors to have resembled the gibbons -or the chimpanzees in this respect. But long after this first rude -beginning of articulate speech, the language of tone and gesture would -have continued as much the most important machinery of communication: -the half-human creature now before our imagination would probably -have struck us as a wonderful adept at making significant sounds and -movements both as to number and variety; but in all probability we -should scarcely have been able to notice the already-developing germ -of articulation. Nor do I believe that, if we were able to strike in -again upon the history thousands of years later, we should find that -pantomime had been superseded by speech. On the contrary, I believe we -should find that although considerable progress had been made in the -former, so that the object then before us might appear deserving of -being classed as _Homo_, we should also feel that he must needs still -be distinguished by the addition _alalus_. Lastly, I believe that this -most interesting creature probably lived for an inconceivably long time -before his faculty of articulate sign-making had developed sufficiently -far to begin to starve out the more primitive and more natural systems; -and I believe that, even after this starving-out process did begin, -another inconceivable lapse of time must have been required for such -progress to have eventually transformed _Homo alalus_ into _Homo -sapiens_. - - * * * * * - -It is now time to consider a branch of this hypothesis which has been -suggested by the philologist Professor Noiré, to which allusion has -already been made in an earlier chapter.[326] - -Before Mr. Darwin had published his views, Professor Noiré had -elaborated a theory of the origin of speech which was substantially -the same as that which I have already quoted from the _Descent of -Man_.[327] The only difference between the two was that, while Darwin -referred the origin of articulate speech from instinctive cries, &c., -to the anthropoid apes, Noiré referred it to a being already human. -In other words, Noiré adopted what I have here called the third -hypothesis, which assumes a speechless form of man as anterior to the -existing form.[328] But, as a result of further deliberation, Noiré -came to the conclusion that “the objects of fear and trembling and -dismay are even now the least appropriate to enter into the pure, -clear, and tranquil sphere of speech-thought, or to supply the first -germs of it.” Accordingly, he discarded the view that these germs -were to be sought in instinctive cries and danger calls, in favour -of the hypothesis that articulation had its origin in sounds which -are made by bodies of men when engaged in common occupations. Having -already explained the elements of this Yo-he-ho theory, it will here -be enough to repeat that I think there is probably some measure of -truth in it; although I likewise think it self-evident that this cannot -have been the only source of aboriginal speech. In what proportion -this branch of onomatopœia was concerned in the genesis of aboriginal -words—supposing it to have been concerned at all—we have now no means -of even conjecturing. But seeing that there are so many other sources -of onomatopœia supplied by Nature, and that these other sources are -so apparent in all existing languages, while the one suggested by -Noiré has not left a record of its occurrence in any language,—seeing -these things, I conclude, as before stated, that at best the Yo-he-ho -principle can be accredited with but a small proportional part in the -aboriginal genesis of language.[329] Therefore, with respect to this -hypothesis I have only three remarks to make: (1) that it is plainly -but a special branch of the general onomatopoetic theory; (2) that, -as such, it not improbably presents some measure of truth; and (3) -that, consequently, it ought to be regarded—not as it is regarded -by its author Noiré and its advocate Max Müller, namely, as the sole -explanation of the origin of speech, but—as representing only one -among many other ways in which, during many ages, many communities of -vociferous though hitherto speechless men may have slowly evolved the -art of making articulate signs. - - * * * * * - -Probably it will be objected to this third hypothesis, in all its -branches, that it amounts to a _petetio principii_: _Homo alalus_, -it may be said, is _Homo postulatus_. To this I answer, Not so. The -question raised has been raised expressly and exclusively on the -faculty of conceptual speech, and it is conceded that of this faculty -there can have been no earlier phase than that of articulation. -Consequently, if my opponents assume that prior to the appearance of -this earliest phase it is impossible that any hitherto speechless -animal should have been erect in attitude, intelligent enough to chip -flints, or greatly in advance of other animals in the matter of making -indicative gesture-signs, assisted by vocal tones,—if my opponents -assume all this, it is _they_ who are endeavouring to beg the question. -For they are merely assuming, in the most arbitrary way, that the -faculty of conceptual thought is necessary in order that an animal -already semi-erect, should become more erect; in order that an animal -already intelligent enough to use stones for cracking nuts and opening -oysters, should not only (as at present) choose the most appropriate -stones for the purpose, but begin to fashion them for these or other -purposes; in order that an animal already more apt than any other -in the use of gesture and vocal signs, should advance considerably -along the same line of psychical improvement.[330] The hypothesis -that such a considerable advance might have gradually taken place, -up to the psychological level supposed, may or may not be true; but, -at least, it does not beg the question. The question is whether the -distinctively human faculty of conceptual ideation differs in kind or -in degree from the lower faculty of receptual ideation; and my present -suggestion amounts to nothing more than a supposition that receptual -ideation may have been developed in the animal kingdom to some such -level as it reaches in a child who is late in beginning to speak.[331] -If any opponent should object to this suggestion on the score of its -appearing to beg the question, he must remember that this question -only arises—in accordance with his own argument—at the place where -the faculty of sign-making ministers to that of introspective thought. -The question as to how far the lower faculties of mind admit of being -developed apart from (or, as I believe, antecedent to) the occurrence -of introspective thought, is obviously quite a distinct question. And -it is a question that can only be answered by observation. Now, I -have already shown that in the case of intelligent animals—and still -more in that of a growing child—the faculties of receptual ideation -do admit of being wrought up to an astonishing degree of adaptive -efficiency, without the possibility of their having been in any way -indebted to the distinctively human faculty of conceptual thought. - - * * * * * - -On the whole, then, it seems to me probable, on grounds of psychology -alone, that the developmental history of intelligence in our race -so far resembled this history in the growing child that, prior to -the advent of speech, receptual ideation had attained a much higher -level of perfection than it now presents in any animal—so much -so, indeed, that the adult creature presenting it might well have -merited the name of _Homo alalus_. And, as we shall see in my next -volume, this inference on psychological grounds is corroborated by -certain inferences which may reasonably be drawn from some other -classes of facts. But in now for the present taking leave of this -question, I desire again to repeat, that it has nothing to do with -my main argument. For it makes no essential difference to my case -whether the faculty of speech was early or late in making its first -appearance. Under either alternative, so soon as the denotative -stage of articulation had been reached by our progenitors in the way -already sketched on its psychological side, the next stage would -have consisted in an extension of denotative signs into connotative -signs. As we have now seen, by a large accumulation of evidence, this -extension of denotative into connotative signs is rendered inevitable -through the principle of sensuous association. In other words, I have -adduced what can only be deemed a superabundance of facts to prove -that, in the first-talking child and even in the parrot, originally -denotative names of particular objects are spontaneously extended -to other objects sensuously perceived to be like in kind. And no -less superabundantly have I proved that this process of connotative -extension is antecedent to the rise of conceptual thought, and, -therefore, to that of true denomination. The limits to which such -purely receptual connotation may extend, I have shown to be determined -by the degree of development which has been reached by the faculties of -purely receptual apprehension. In the parrot this degree of development -is but low; in the dog and monkey considerably higher (though, -unfortunately, these animals are not able to give any articulate -expression to their receptual apprehensions); in the child of two years -it is higher still. But, as before shown, no antagonist can afford -to allege that in any of these cases there is a difference of kind -between the mental faculties that are respectively involved; because -his argument on psychological grounds can only stand upon the basis of -conceptual cognition, which, in turn, can only stand upon the basis of -self-consciousness; and this is demonstrably absent in the child until -long after the time when denotative names are connotatively extended by -the receptual intelligence of the child itself. - -Thus, there can be no reasonable question that it is psychologically -possible for _Homo sapiens_ to have had an ancestry, which—whether -already partly human or still simian—was able to carry denotation -to a high level of connotation, without the need of cognition -belonging to the order conceptual. Whether the signs were then made -by tone and gesture alone, or likewise by articulate sounds, is also, -psychologically considered, immaterial. In either case connotation -would have followed denotation up to whatever point the higher -receptual (“pre-conceptual”) intelligence of such an ancestry was -able to take cognizance of simple analogies. And this psychological -possibility becomes on other grounds a probability of the highest -order, so soon as we know of any independent evidence touching the -corporeal evolution of man from a simian ancestry. - -Now, we have already seen that pre-conceptual connotation amounts to -what I have termed pre-conceptual judgment. The qualities or relations -thus connotated are not indeed contemplated _as_ qualities or _as_ -relations; but in the mere act of such a connotative classification -the higher receptual intelligence is virtually judging a resemblance, -and virtually predicating its judgment. Therefore I think it probable -that the earliest forms of such virtual predication were those which -would have been conveyed in single words. And, as we have seen in the -foregoing chapters, there is abundant and wholly independent evidence -to show, that this form of nascent predication continued to hold an -important place until so late in the intellectual history of our race -as to leave a permanent record of its occurrence in the structure of -all languages now extant. - -The epoch during which these sentence-words prevailed was probably -immense; and, as we have before seen, far from having been inimical -to gesticulation, must have greatly encouraged it—raising, in -fact, the indicative phase of language to the level of elaborate -pantomime. Out of the complex of sentence-words and gesture-signs thus -inaugurated, grammatical forms became slowly evolved, as we know from -the independent witness of philology. But long before grammatical forms -of any sort began to be evolved, a kind of uncertain differentiation -must have taken place in this protoplasmic material of speech, in such -wise that some sentence-words would have tended to become specially -denotative of particular objects, others of particular actions, states, -qualities, and relations. This “primitive streak,” as it were, of -what was afterwards to constitute the vertebral column of articulated -language in the independent yet mutually related “parts of speech,” -must in large measure have owed its development to gesture. Now, by -this time, gesture itself must already have acquired an elementary kind -of syntax, such as belongs even to semiotic movements of an infant who -happens to be late in beginning to speak.[332] This elementary kind -of syntax would necessarily be taken over by, or impressed upon, the -growing structure of speech, at all events so far as the principles -and the order of apposition were concerned. Moreover, this sign-making -value of apposition would at the same time have been promoted -within the sphere of articulate signs themselves. For, as we have -previously seen, as soon as words become in any measure denotative, -they immediately begin to undergo a connotative extension;[333] and -with this progressive widening of signification, words require to be -more and more frequently used in apposition. Quite independently of -any as yet non-existing powers of introspective thought, the external -“logic of events” must have constantly determined such apposition -of receptually connotative terms, as we have already so fully seen -in the case of the growing child. Thus the conditions were laid for -the tripartite division—the genitive case, the adjective, and the -verb. Not till long subsequent ages, however, would this division -have taken place in its fulness. During the time which we are now -contemplating, there could have been no distinction at all between the -genitive case and the adjective; neither could there have been any -verbs as independent parts of speech. Nevertheless, already some of the -denotative signs would have been used as names of particular objects, -others of particular qualities, and yet others of particular actions, -states, and relations. Not yet deserving to be regarded as fully -differentiated parts of speech, these object-words, quality-words, -&c., would have resembled those with which we are all well acquainted -in nursery language, and which still survive, in a remarkably large -measure, among many dialects of a low order of development. Now, as -soon as these denotative names became at all fixed in meaning within -the limits of the same community, those which respectively signified -objects, qualities, actions, states, and relations, must necessarily -have been often used in apposition; and, as often as they were thus -used, would have constituted nascent or pre-conceptual propositions. - -The probability certainly is that immense intervals of time would -have been consumed in the passage through these various grades of -mental evolution; but when we remember the great importance of this -kind of evolution to the species which had once begun to travel in -that direction, we cannot wonder that survival of the fittest should -have placed a high premium upon the instrument of its attainment—or, -in other words, that the faculty of sign-making, when once happily -started, should have been successively pushed onwards through ascending -grades of efficiency, so that it should soon become as unique in the -mammalian series as, for analogous reasons, are the flying powers of -the Chiroptera. But however long or however short the time may have -been that was required for our early progenitors to pass from one of -these stages of sign-making to another, so soon as the denotative name -of an object was brought into apposition with the denotative name of a -quality or an action, so soon was there uttered the virtual statement -of a virtual judgment, even though the mind which formed it was very -far indeed from being able either to think about its judgment as a -judgment, or to state a truth as true. - -Thus we perceive that two different principles were presumably -concerned in the genesis of what I have called pre-conceptual -predication. The first consists in the natural and inevitable -extension of denotative into connotative terms, through the force -of merely receptual association. The second consists in the no less -natural and inevitable apposition of denotative terms themselves, -whereby a receptually perceived relation is virtually—though not -conceptually—predicated as subsisting between the objects, qualities, -states, actions, or relations which are denoted. Of course it is -evident that these two modes of development must have mutually assisted -one another: the more that denotative signs underwent connotative -extension, the greater must have been their predicative value when -used in apposition; and the more frequently denotative signs were used -in apposition, the greater must have become the extension of their -connotative value. - -Lastly, it is desirable throughout all this hypothetical discussion -to remember that we have the positive evidence of philology touching -two points of considerable importance. The first point is that, as -in the aboriginal sentence-words there was no differentiation of, or -distinction between, subject and predicate; so, until very late in -the evolution of predicative utterance, there was—and in very many -languages still continues to be—an absence of the copula. Nay, even -the substantive verb, which has been unwittingly confounded with the -copula by some of my opponents, was also very late in making its -appearance. - -The second point is that, although “pronominal elements”—or verbal -equivalents of gesture-signs indicative of space-relations—were among -the earliest of verbal differentiations, it was not until after æons -of ages had elapsed that any pronouns arose as specially indicative -of the first person.[334] Now, this point I consider one of prime -importance. For it furnishes us with direct evidence of the fact that, -long after mankind had begun to speak, and even long after they had -gained considerable proficiency in the art of articulate language, -the speakers still continued to refer to themselves in that same -kind of objective phraseology as is employed by a child before the -dawn of self-consciousness. This, of course, is what on antecedent -or theoretical grounds we should infer _must have been_ the case; -but it is surely a matter of great moment that our inference on this -point should admit of such full and independent verification at the -hands of philological research. As we have now so repeatedly seen, the -distinction between ideas as receptual and conceptual turns upon the -presence or absence of self-consciousness, in the full or introspective -signification of that term. And, as we have likewise seen, the outward -and visible sign of this inward and spiritual grace is given in the -subjective use of pronominal words. But if these things admit of no -question in the case of an individual human mind—if in the case of -the growing child the rise of self-consciousness is demonstrably -the condition to that of conceptual thought,—by what feat of logic -can it be possible to insinuate that in the growing psychology of -the race there may have been conceptual thought before there was -any true self-consciousness? Obviously this cannot be insinuated -without denying those identical principles of psychology on which my -opponents themselves rely. Will it, then, be said that the criterion -of self-consciousness which is valid for a child is not valid for -the race—that although in the former the rise of self-consciousness -is marked by the change from objective to subjective phraseology, in -the latter a precisely similar change is not to be accredited with a -similar meaning? If this were to be suggested, it would not merely be -quite gratuitous as a suggestion, but directly opposed to the whole of -an otherwise perfectly parallel analogy. In point of fact, then, there -is obviously no escape from the conclusion that in the race, as in the -individual, the development of true, or “inward,” from receptual, or -“outward,” self-consciousness was a gradual process; that its birth in -the former is not merely a matter of inference—overpowering though -this inference be,—but a matter of actual fact which is recorded in -the archives of Language itself; and, therefore, that the central -question upon which the whole of the present treatise has been engaged -cannot any longer be regarded as an open question. It has been closed, -part by part, as the witness of philology has verified, stage by stage, -the results of our psychological analysis; and now, eventually, the -verification has extended to the central core of the matter, revealing -in all its naked simplicity the one decisive fact, that in the -childhood of the world, no less than in that of the man, we may see the -fundamental change from sense to thought: in the one as in the other do -we behold that— - - “As he grows he gathers much, - And learns the use of ‘I,’ and ‘me,’ - And finds ‘I am not what I see, - And other than the things I touch.’ - - “So rounds he to a separate mind - From whence clear memory may begin, - As thro’ the frame that binds him in - His isolation grows defined.” - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -GENERAL SUMMARY AND CONCLUDING REMARKS. - - -In the present treatise I take as granted the general theory of -evolution, so far as it is now accepted by the vast majority of -naturalists. That is to say, I assume the doctrine of descent as -regards the whole of organic nature, morphological and psychological, -with the one exception of man. Moreover, I assume this doctrine even -in the case of man, so far as his bodily organization is concerned; it -being thus only with reference to the human mind that the exception to -which I have alluded is made. And I make this exception in deference to -the opinion of that small minority of evolutionists who still maintain -that, notwithstanding their acceptance of the theory of descent as -regards the corporeal constitution of man, they are able to adduce -cogent evidence to prove that the theory fails to account for his -mental constitution. - -Such being my basis of assumption, we began by considering the state -of the question _a priori_. If, in accordance with our assumption, -the process of organic and of mental evolution has been continuous -throughout the whole region of life and of mind, with the one exception -of the mind of man, on grounds of an immensely large analogy we -must deem it antecedently improbable that the process of evolution, -elsewhere so uniform and ubiquitous, should have been interrupted at -its terminal phase. And this antecedent presumption is still further -strengthened by the undeniable fact that, in the case of every -individual human being, the human mind presents to actual observation -a process of gradual development, extending from infancy to manhood. -For it is thus shown to be a matter of observable fact that, whatever -may have been the origin or the history of human intelligence in the -past, as it now exists—or, rather, as in every individual case it -now comes into existence—it proves itself to be no exception to the -general law of evolution: it unquestionably does admit of gradual -growth from a zero level, and without such a gradual growth we have no -evidence of its becoming. Furthermore, so long as it is passing through -the lower stages of this growth, the human mind ascends through a -scale of faculties which are parallel with those that are permanently -presented by what I have termed the psychological species of the animal -kingdom—a general fact which tends most strongly to prove that, at -all events up to the time when the distinctively human qualities of -ideation are attained, no difference of kind is apparent between human -and brute psychology. Lastly, not only in the individual, but also in -the race, the phenomena of mental evolution are conspicuous—so far, -at least, as the records of the human race extend. Whether we have -regard to actual history, to tradition, to antiquarian remains, or -flint implements, we obtain uniform evidence of a continuous process of -upward development, which is thus seen to be as characteristic of those -additional attributes wherein the human mind now surpasses that of any -other species as it is of those attributes which it shares with other -species. Therefore, if the process of mental evolution was interrupted -between the anthropoid apes and primitive man during the pre-historic -period of which we have no record, it must again have been resumed with -primitive man, after which it must have continued as uninterruptedly in -the human species as it previously did in the animal species. This, to -say the least, is a most improbable supposition. The law of continuity -is proved to apply on both sides of a psychological interval, where -there happens to be a necessary absence of historical information. -Yet we are asked to believe that, in curious coincidence with this -interval, the law of continuity was violated—notwithstanding that in -the case of every individual human mind such is known never to be the -case. - -In order to overturn so immense a presumption as is thus raised against -the contention of my opponents on merely _a priori_ grounds, it appears -to me that they must be fairly called upon to supply some very powerful -considerations of an _a posteriori_ kind, tending to show that there -is something in the constitution of the human mind which renders it -virtually impossible to suppose that such an order of mental existence -can have proceeded by way of genetic descent from mind of lower orders. -I therefore next proceeded to consider the arguments which have been -adduced in support of this thesis. - -In order that the points of difference on which these arguments are -founded might be brought out into clear relief, I began by briefly -considering the points of resemblance between the human mind and -mind of lower orders. Here we saw that so far as the Emotions are -concerned no difference of kind has been, or can be, alleged. The -whole series of human emotions have been proved to obtain among the -lower animals, except those which depend on the higher intellectual -powers of man—_i.e._ those appertaining to religion and perception -of the sublime. But all the others—which in my list amount to over -twenty—occur in the brute creation; and although many of them do -not occur in so highly developed a degree, this is immaterial where -the question is one of kind. Indeed, so remarkable is the general -similarity of emotional life in both cases—especially when we have -regard to the young child and savage man—that it ought fairly to be -taken as direct evidence of a genetic continuity between them. - -And so, likewise, it is with Instinct. For although this occurs in a -greater proportion among the lower animals than it does in ourselves, -no one can venture to question the identity of all the instincts which -are common to both. And this is the only point that here requires to be -established. - -Again, with respect to the Will, no argument can arise touching the -identity of animal and human volition up to the point where the latter -is alleged to take on the attribute of freedom—which, as we saw, under -any view depends on the intellectual powers of introspective thought. - -There remain, then, only these intellectual powers of introspective -Thought, _plus_ the faculties of Morality and Religion. Now, it is -evident that, whatever we may severally conclude as touching the -distinctive value of the two latter, we must all agree that a prime -condition to the possibility of either resides in the former: without -the powers of intellect which are competent to frame the abstract -ideation that is concerned both in morals and religion, it is manifest -that neither could exist. Therefore, in logical order, it is these -powers of intellect that first fall to be considered. In subsequent -parts of this work I shall fully deal both with morals and religion: in -the present part I am concerned only with the intellect. - -And here it is, as I have acknowledged, that the great psychological -distinction is to be found. Nevertheless, even here it must be conceded -that up to a certain point, as between the brute and the man, there is -not merely a similarity of kind, but an identity of correspondence. The -distinction only arises with reference to those superadded faculties of -ideation which occur above the level marked 28 in my diagram—_i.e._ -where the upward growth of animal intelligence ends, and the -development of distinctively human faculty begins. So that in the case -of intellect, no less than in that of emotion, instinct, and volition, -there can be no doubt that the human mind runs exactly parallel with -the animal, up to the place where these superadded powers of intellect -begin to supervene. Therefore, upon the face of them, the facts of -comparative psychology thus far, to say the least, are strongly -suggestive of these superadded powers having been due to a process of -continued evolution. - -So much, then, for the points of agreement between animal and human -psychology. Turning next to the points of difference, we had first to -dispose of certain allegations which were either erroneous in fact or -plainly unsound in theory. This involved a rejection _in toto_ of the -following distinctions—namely, that brutes are non-sentient machines; -that they present no rudiments of reason in the sense of perceiving -analogies and drawing inferences therefrom; that they are destitute -of any immortal principle; that they show no signs of progress from -generation to generation; that they never employ barter, make fire, -wear clothes, use tools, and so forth. Among these sundry alleged -distinctions, those which are not demonstrably false in fact are -demonstrably false in logic. Whether or not brutes are destitute of -any immortal principle, and whether or not human beings present such -a principle, the science of comparative psychology has no means of -ascertaining; and, therefore, any arguments touching these questions -are irrelevant to the subject-matter on which we are engaged. Again, -the fact that brutes do not resemble ourselves in wearing clothes, -making fire, &c., clearly depends on an absence in them of those powers -of higher ideation which alone are adequate to yield such products -in the way of intelligent action. All such differences in matters of -detail, therefore, really belong to, or are absorbed by, the more -general question as to the nature of the distinction between the two -orders of _ideation_. To this, therefore, as to the real question -before us, we next addressed ourselves. And here it was pointed out, -_in limine_, that the three living naturalists of highest authority -who still argue for a difference of kind between the brute and the -man, although they agree in holding that only on grounds of psychology -can any such difference be maintained, nevertheless upon these grounds -all mutually contradict one another. For while Mr. Mivart argues that -there must be a distinction of kind, because the psychological interval -between the highest ape and the lowest man is so great; Mr. Wallace -argues for the same conclusion on the ground that this interval is -not so great as the theory of a natural evolution would lead us to -expect: the brain of a savage, he says, is so much more efficient an -instrument than the mind to which it ministers, that its presence can -only be explained as a preparation for the higher efficiency of mental -life as afterwards exhibited by civilized man. Lastly, Professor De -Quatrefages contradicts both the English naturalists by vehemently -insisting that, so far as the powers of intellect are concerned, there -is a demonstrable identity of kind between animal intelligence and -human, whether in the savage or civilized condition: he argues that the -distinction only arises in the domain of morals and religion. So that, -if our opinion on the issue before us were to be in any way influenced -by the voice of authority, I might represent the judgments of these my -most representative opponents as mutually cancelling one another—thus -yielding a zero quantity as against the enormous and self-consistent -weight of authority on the other side. - -But, quitting all considerations of authority, I proceeded to -investigate the question _de novo_, or exclusively on its own merits. -To do this it was necessary to begin with a somewhat tedious analysis -of ideation. The general result was to yield the following as my -classification of ideas. - -1. Mere memories of perceptions, or the abiding mental images of past -sensuous impressions. These are the ideas which, in the terminology of -Locke, we may designate Simple, Particular, or Concrete. Nowadays no -one questions that such ideas are common to animals and men. - -2. A higher class of ideas, which by universal consent are also -common to animals and men; namely, those which Locke called Complex, -Compound, or Mixed. These are something more than the simple memories -of particular perceptions; they are generated by the mixture of such -memories, and therefore represent a compound, of which “particular -ideas” are the elements or ingredients. By the laws of association, -particular ideas which either resemble one another in themselves, or -frequently occur together in experience, tend to coalesce and blend -into one: as in a “composite photograph” the sensitive plate is able -to unite many more or less similar images into a single picture, so -the sensitive tablet of the mind is able to make of many simple or -particular ideas, a complex, a compound, or, as I have called it, a -_generic_ idea. Now, a generic idea of this kind differs from what -is ordinarily called a general idea (which we will consider in the -next paragraph), in that, although both are generated out of simpler -elementary constituents, the former are thus generated as it were -spontaneously or anatomically by the principles of merely perceptual -association, while the latter can only be produced by a consciously -intentional operation of the mind upon the materials of its own -ideation, known as such. This operation is what psychologists term -conception, and the product of it they term a concept. Hence we see -that between the region of percepts and those of concepts there lies a -large intermediate territory, which is occupied by what I have called -generic ideas, or _recepts_. A recept, then, differs from a percept in -that it is a compound of mental representations, involving an orderly -grouping of simpler images in accordance with past experience; while -it differs from a concept in that this orderly grouping is due to an -unintentional or automatic activity on the part of the percipient mind. -A recept, or generic idea, is _imparted to_ the mind by the external -“logic of events;” while a general idea, or concept, is _framed by_ the -mind consciously working to a higher elaboration of its own ideas. In -short, a recept is _received_, while a concept is _conceived_. - -3. The highest class of ideas, which psychologists are unanimous in -denying to brutes, and which, therefore, we are justified in regarding -as the unique prerogative of man. These are the General, Abstract, -and Notional ideas of Locke, or the Concepts just mentioned in the -last paragraph. As we have there seen, they differ from recepts—and, -_a fortiori_, from percepts, in that they are themselves the objects -of thought. In other words, it is a peculiarity of the human mind -that it is able to think about its own ideas as such, consciously -to combine and elaborate them, intentionally to develop higher -products out of less highly developed constituents. This remarkable -power we found—also by common consent—to depend on the faculty of -self-consciousness, whereby the mind is able, as it were, to stand -apart from itself, to render one of its states objective to others, and -thus to contemplate its own ideas as such. Now, we are not concerned -with the philosophy of this fact, but only with its history. How it -is that such a faculty as self-consciousness is possible; what it -is that can thus be simultaneously the subject and the object of -thought; whether or not it is conceivable that the great abyss of -personality can ever be fathomed; these and all such questions are -quite alien to the scope of the present work. All that we have here -to do is to analyze the psychological conditions out of which, as a -matter of observable fact, this unique peculiarity emerges—to trace -the history of the process, and tabulate the results. Well, we have -seen that here, again, every one agrees in regarding the possibility -of self-consciousness to be given in the faculty of language. Whether -or not we suppose that these two faculties are one—that neither -could exist without the other, and, therefore, that we may follow the -Greeks in assigning to them the single name of Logos,—at least it is -as certain as the science of psychology can make it, that within the -four corners of human experience a self-conscious personality cannot -be led up to in any other way than through the medium of language. For -it is by language alone that, so far as we have any means of knowing, -a mind is rendered capable of so far fixing—or rendering definite to -itself—its own ideas, as to admit of any subsequent contemplation -of them as ideas. It is only by means of marking ideas by names that -the faculty of conceptual thought is rendered possible, as we saw at -considerable length in Chapter IV. - -Such, then, was my classification of ideas. And it is a classification -over which no dispute is likely to arise, seeing that it merely sets in -some kind of systematic order a body of observable facts with regard to -which writers of every school are nowadays in substantial agreement. -Now, if this classification be accepted, it follows that the question -before us is thrown back upon the faculty of language. This faculty, -therefore, I considered in a series of chapters. First it was pointed -out that, in its widest signification, “language” means the faculty of -making signs. Next, I adopted Mr. Mivart’s “Categories of Language,” -which, when slightly added to, serve to give at once an accurate and -exhaustive classification of every bodily or mental act with reference -to which the term can possibly be applied. In all there were found to -be seven of these categories, of which the first six are admittedly -common to animals and mankind. The seventh, however, is alleged by my -opponents to be wholly peculiar to the human species. In other words, -it is conceded that animals do present what may be termed the germ of -the sign-making faculty; but it is denied that they be able, even in -the lowest degree, to make signs of an intellectual kind—_i.e._ of a -kind which consists in the bestowing of names as marks of ideas. Brutes -are admittedly able to make signs to one another—and also to man—with -the intentional purpose of conveying such ideas as they possess; -but, it is alleged, no brute is able to name these ideas, either by -gestures, tones, or words. Now, in order to test this allegation, I -began by giving a number of illustrations which were intended to show -the level that is reached by the sign-making faculty in brutes; next -I considered the language of tone and gesture as this is exhibited by -man; then I proceeded to investigate the phenomena of articulation, the -relation of tone and gesture to words; and, lastly, the psychology of -speech. Not to overburden the present summary, I will neglect all the -subordinate results of this analysis. The main results, however, were -that the natural language of tone and gesture is identical wherever it -occurs; but that even when it becomes conventional (as it may up to a -certain point in brutes), it is much less efficient than articulate -language as an agency in the construction of ideas; and, therefore, -that the psychological line between brute and man must be drawn, not -at language, or sign-making in general, but at that particular kind of -sign-making which we understand by “speech.” Nevertheless, the real -distinction resides in the intellectual powers; not in the symbols -thereof. So that a man means, it matters not by what system of signs -he expresses his meaning. In other words, although I endeavoured to -prove that articulation must have been of unique service in developing -these intellectual powers, I was emphatic in representing that, when -once these powers are present, it is psychologically immaterial -whether they find expression in gesture or in speech. In any case the -psychological distinction between a brute and a man consists in the -latter being able to _mean a proposition_; and the kind of mental act -which this involves is technically termed a “judgment.” Predication, -or the making of a proposition—whether by gesture, tone, speech, or -writing,—is nothing more nor less than the expression of a judgment; -and a judgment is nothing more nor less than the apprehension of -whatever meaning it may be that a proposition serves to set forth. - -Now, this is admitted by all my opponents who understand the psychology -of the subject. Moreover, they allow that if once this chasm of -predication were bridged, there would be no further chasm to cross. For -it is universally acknowledged that, from the simplest judgment which -it is possible to make—and, therefore, from the simplest proposition -which it is possible to construct—human intelligence displays an -otherwise uninterrupted ascent through all the grades of excellence -which it afterwards presents. Here, therefore, we had carefully to -consider the psychology of predication. And the result of our analysis -was to show that the distinctively human faculty in question really -occurs further back than at the place where a mind is first able to -construct the formal proposition “A is B.” It occurs at the place -where a mind is first able to bestow a name, known as such,—to call -A _A_, and B _B_, with a cognizance that in so doing it is performing -an act of conceptual classification. Therefore, unless we extend the -term “judgment” so as to embrace such an act of conceptual naming (as -well as the act of expressing a relation between things conceptually -named), we must conclude that “the simplest element of thought” is not -a judgment, but a concept. It is needless again to go over the ground -of this proof; for, although in the course of it I had to point out -certain inexcusable errors in psychological analysis on the part of -some of my opponents, the proof itself is too complete to admit of any -question. - -Thus, then, we were brought back to our original distinction between -a concept and a recept. But now we were in a position to show that, -just as in the matter of conducting “inferences,” so in the matter -of making signs, there is an order of ideation that is receptual as -well as one that is conceptual. And, more particularly, even in that -kind of sign-making which consists in the bestowing of names, ideation -of the receptual order may be concerned without any assistance at -all from ideation of the conceptual order. In other words, there are -names and names. Not every name that is bestowed need necessarily -be expressive of a concept, any more than every “inference” that is -conducted need necessarily be the result of self-conscious thought. Not -only young children before they attain to self-conscious thought, but -even talking birds habitually name objects, qualities, actions, and -states. Nevertheless, while giving abundant evidence of this fact, I -was careful to point out that thus far no argumentative implications -of any importance were involved. That a young child and a talking -bird should be able thus to learn the names of objects, qualities, -&c., by imitation—or even to invent arbitrary names of their own—is -psychologically of no more significance than the fact that both the -child and the bird will similarly employ gesture-signs or vocal tones -whereby to express the simple logic of their recepts. Nevertheless, -it is needful in some way to distinguish this non-conceptual kind of -naming from that kind which is peculiar to man after he has attained -self-consciousness, and thus is able, not only to name, but to _know -that he names_—not only to call A _A_, but to _think A as his symbol -of_ A. Now, in order to mark this distinction, I have assigned the term -_denotation_ to naming of the receptual kind, and applied the term -_denomination_ to naming of the conceptual kind. When a parrot calls a -dog “Bow-wow” (as a parrot, like a child, can easily be taught to do), -it may be said in a sense to be naming the dog; but obviously it is not -_predicating_ any characters as belonging to a dog, or performing any -act of _judgment_ with regard to a dog—as is the case, for example, -with a naturalist who, by means of his name _Canis_, conceptually -assigns that animal to a particular zoological genus. Although the -parrot may never utter the name “Bow-wow” save when it sees a dog, -this fact is attributable to the laws of association acting only in -the receptual sphere: it furnishes no shadow of a reason for supposing -that the bird ever thinks about the dog as a dog, or sets the concept -Dog before its mind as a separate object of thought. Therefore, none -of my opponents can afford to deny that in one sense of the word there -may be names without concepts: whether as gestures or as words (“vocal -gestures”), there may be signs of things without these signs presenting -any vestige of predicative value. Now, it is in order not to prejudice -the case of my opponents, and thus clearly to mark out the field of -discussion, that I have instituted the distinction between names as -receptual and conceptual, or denotative and denominative. - -This distinction having been clearly understood, the next point was -that both kinds of names admit of connotative extension—denotative -names within the receptual sphere, and denominative within the -conceptual. That is to say, when a name has been applied to one thing, -its use may be extended to another thing, which is seen to belong to -the same class or kind. The degree to which such connotative extension -of a name may take place depends, of course, on the degree in which the -mind is able to take cognizance of resemblances or analogies. Hence -the process can go much further in the conceptual sphere than it does -in the receptual. But the important point is that it unquestionably -takes place in the latter within certain limits. Nor is this anything -more than we should antecedently expect. For in the lengthy account -and from the numerous facts which I gave of the receptual intelligence -of brutes, it was abundantly proved that long before the differential -engine of conception has come to the assistance of mind, mind is -able to reach a high level in the distinguishing of resemblances or -analogies by means of receptual discrimination alone. Consequently, it -is inevitable that non-conceptual or denotative names should undergo a -connotative extension, within whatever limits these powers of merely -receptual discrimination impose. And, as a matter of fact, we found -that such is the case. A talking bird will extend its denotative name -from one dog in particular to any other dog which it may happen to see; -and a young child, after having done this, will extend the denotative -name still further, so as to include images, and eventually pictures, -of dogs. Hence, if the receptual intelligence of a parrot were somewhat -more advanced than it happens to be, we can have no doubt that it would -do the same: the only reason why in this matter it parts company with -a child so soon as it does, is because its receptual intelligence is -not sufficiently developed to perceive the resemblance of images and -pictures to the objects which they are intended to represent. But the -receptual intelligence of a dog is higher than that of a parrot, and -some dogs are able to perceive resemblances of this kind. Therefore -if dogs, like parrots, had happened to be able to articulate, and so -to learn the use of denotative names, there can be no doubt that they -would have accompanied the growing child through a somewhat further -reach of connotative utterance than is the case with the only animals -which present the anatomical conditions required for the imitation of -articulate sounds. Both dogs and monkeys are able, in an extraordinary -degree, to _understand_ these sounds: that is to say, they can learn -the meanings of an astonishing number of denotative names, and also -be taught to apprehend a surprisingly large extension of connotative -significance. Consequently, if they could but _imitate_ these sounds, -after the manner of a parrot, it is certain that they would greatly -distance the parrot in this matter of receptual connotation. - -But, lastly, we are not shut up to any such hypothetical case. For -the growing child itself furnishes us with evidence upon the point, -which is no less cogent than would be the case if dogs and monkeys were -able to talk. For, without argumentative suicide, none of my opponents -can afford to suggest that, up to the age when self-consciousness -dawns, the young child is capable of conceptual connotation; yet it is -unquestionable that up to that age a continuous growth of connotation -has been taking place, which, beginning with the level that it shares -with a parrot, is eventually able to construct what I have called -“receptual propositions,” the precise nature of which I will summarise -in a subsequent paragraph. The evidence which I have given of this -connotative extension of denotative names by children before the age -at which self-consciousness supervenes—and, therefore, _prior to -the very condition which is required for conceptual ideation_—is, I -think, overwhelming. And I do not see how its place in my argument -can be gainsaid by any opponent, except at the cost of ignoring my -distinction between connotation as receptual and conceptual. Yet -to do this would be to surrender his whole case. Either there is a -distinction, or else there is not a distinction, between connotation -that is receptual, and connotation that is conceptual. If there is no -distinction, all argument is at an end: the brute and the man are one -in kind. But I allow that there is a distinction, and I acknowledge -that the distinction resides where it is alleged to reside by my -opponents—namely, in the presence or absence of self-consciousness -on the part of a mind which bestows a name. Or, to revert to my own -terminology, it is the distinction between denotation and denomination. - -Now, in order to analyze this distinction, it became needful further -to distinguish between the highest level of receptual ideation that -is attained by any existing brute, and those further developments of -receptual ideation which are presented by the growing child, after it -parts company with all existing brutes, but before it assumes even -the lowest stage of conceptual ideation—_i.e._ prior to the dawn of -self-consciousness. This subordinate distinction I characterized by the -terms “lower recepts” and “higher recepts.” Already I had instituted -a distinction between “lower concepts” and “higher concepts,” meaning -by the former the conceptual naming of recepts, and by the latter a -similar naming of other concepts. So that altogether four large and -consecutive territories were thus marked out: (1) Lower Recepts, which -are co-extensive with the psychology of existing animals, including -a very young child; (2) Higher Recepts, which occupy a psychological -area between the recepts of animals and the first appearance of -self-consciousness in man; (3) Lower Concepts, which are concerned only -with the self-conscious naming of recepts; (4) Higher Concepts, which -have to do with the self-conscious classification of other concepts -known as such, and the self-conscious naming of such ideal integrations -as may result therefrom. - -Now, if all this is true of naming, clearly it must also be true of -judging. If there is a stage of pre-conceptual naming (denotation), -there must also be a stage of pre-conceptual judgment, of which such -naming is the expression. No doubt, in strictness, the term judgment -should be reserved for conceptual thought (denomination); but, in order -to avoid an undue multiplication of terms, I prefer thus to qualify the -existing word “judgment.” Such, indeed, has already been the practice -among psychologists, who speak of “intuitive judgments” as occurring -even in acts of perception. All, therefore, that I propose to do is to -institute two additional classes of non-conceptual judgment—namely, -lower receptual and higher receptual, or, more briefly, receptual and -pre-conceptual. If one may speak of an “intuitive,” “unconscious,” or -“perceptual” judgment (as when we mistake a hollow bowl for a sphere), -much more may we speak of a receptual judgment (as when a sea-bird -dives from a height into water, but will not do so upon land), or a -pre-conceptual judgment (as when a young child will extend the use of -a denotative name without any denominative conception). In all, then, -we have four phases of ideation to which the term judgment may be thus -either literally or metaphorically applied—namely, the perceptual, -receptual, pre-conceptual, and conceptual. Of these the last only -is judgment, properly so called. Therefore I do not say that a brute -really judges when, without any self-conscious thought, it brings -together certain reminiscences of its past experience in the form -of recepts, and translates for us the result of its ideation by the -performance of what Mr. Mivart calls “practical inferences.” Neither -do I say that a brute really judges when, still without self-conscious -thought, it learns correctly to employ denotative names. Nay, I should -deny that a brute really judges even if, after it is able to denotate -separately two different recepts (as is done by a talking bird), it -were to name these two recepts simultaneously when thus combined in an -act of “practical inference.” Although there would then be the outward -semblance of a proposition, we should not be strictly right in calling -it a proposition. It would, indeed, be the _statement of a truth -perceived_; but not the statement of a truth perceived _as true_. - -Now, if all this be admitted in the case of a brute—as it must be -by any one who takes his stand on the faculty of true or conceptual -judgment,—obviously it must also be admitted in the case of the -growing child. In other words, if it can be proved that a child is able -to state a truth before it is able to state a truth as true, it is -thereby proved that in the psychological history of every human being -there is first the kind of predication which is required for dealing -with receptual knowledge, or for the stating of truths perceived; -and next the completed judgment which is required for dealing with -conceptual knowledge, or of stating truths perceived as true. Of course -the condition required for the raising of this lower kind of judgment -and this lower kind of predication (if, for the sake of convenience, we -agree to use these terms) into the higher or only true kind of judgment -and predication, is the advent of self-consciousness. Or, in other -words, the place where a mere statement of truth first passes into a -real predication of truth, is determined by the place at which there -first supervenes the faculty of introspective reflection. The whole -issue is thus reduced to an analysis of self-consciousness. To this -analysis, therefore, we next addressed ourselves. - -Seeing that the faculty in question only occurs in man, obviously -it is only in the case of man that any material is supplied for the -analysis of it. Moreover, as previously remarked, so far as this our -analysis is concerned, we have only to deal with the psychology of -self-consciousness: we are not concerned with its philosophy. Now, -as a matter of psychology, no one can possibly dispute that the -faculty in question is one of gradual development; that during the -first two or three years of the growing intelligence of man there is -no vestige of any such faculty at all; that when it does begin to -dawn, the human mind is already much in advance of the mind of any -brute; but that, even so, it is much less highly developed than it -is afterwards destined to become; and that the same remark applies -to the faculty of self-consciousness itself. Furthermore, it will be -granted that self-consciousness consists in paying the same kind of -attention to internal, or psychical processes, as is habitually paid -to external, or physical processes—although, of course, the degrees -in which such attention may be yielded are as various in the one case -as in the other. Lastly, it will be further granted that in the minds -of brutes, as in the minds of men, there is a world of images, or -recepts; and that the only reason why in the former case these images -are not attended to unless called up by the sensuous association of -their corresponding objects, is because the mind of a brute is not -able to leave the ground of such merely sensuous association, so as -to move through the higher and more tenuous region of introspective -thought. Nevertheless, I have proved that this image-world, even in -brutes, displays a certain amount of internal activity, which is not -wholly dependent on sensuous associations supplied from without. -For the phenomena of “home-sickness,” pining for absent friends, -dreaming, hallucination, &c., amply demonstrate the fact that in our -more intelligent domesticated animals there may be an internal (though -unintentional) play of ideation, wherein one image suggests another, -this another, and so on, without the need of any immediate associations -supplied from present objects of sense. Furthermore, I have pointed -out that receptual ideation of this kind is not restricted to the -images of sense-perception; but is largely concerned with the mental -states of other animals. That is to say, the logic of recepts, even in -brutes, is sufficient to enable the mind to establish true analogies -between subjective states and the corresponding states of other -intelligences: animals habitually and accurately interpret the mental -states of other animals, while also well knowing that other animals -are able similarly to interpret theirs. Hence, it must be further -conceded that intelligent animals recognize a world of ejects, as well -as a world of objects: mental existence is known to them ejectively, -though, as I allow, never thought upon subjectively. At this stage of -mental evolution the individual—whether an animal or an infant—so -far realizes its own individuality as to be informed by the logic -of recepts that it is one of a kind, although of course it does not -recognize either its own or any other individuality as such. - -Nevertheless, there is thus given a rudimentary or nascent form -of self-consciousness, which up to the stage of development -that it attains in a brute or an infant may be termed receptual -self-consciousness; while in the more advanced stages which it presents -in young children it may be termed pre-conceptual self-consciousness. -Pre-conceptual self-consciousness is exhibited by all children after -they have begun to talk, but before they begin to speak of themselves -in the first person, or otherwise to give any evidence of realizing -their own existence as such. Later on, when true self-consciousness -does arise, the child, of course, is able to do this; and then only -is supplied the condition _sine quâ non_ to a reflection upon its own -ideas—hence to a knowledge of names as names, and so to a statement -of truths as true. But long before this stage of true or conceptual -self-consciousness is reached—whereby alone is rendered possible true -or conceptual predication—the child, in virtue of its pre-conceptual -self-consciousness, is able to make known its wants, and otherwise to -communicate its ideas, by way of pre-conceptual predication. I gave -many instances of this pre-conceptual predication, which abundantly -proved that the pre-conceptual self-consciousness of which it is the -expression amounts to nothing more than a practical recognition of self -as an active and feeling agent, without any introspective recognition -of that self as an object of knowledge. - -Given, then, this stage of mental evolution, and what follows? The -child, like the animal, is supplied by its logic of recepts with a -world of images, standing as signs of outward objects; with an ejective -knowledge of other minds, and with that kind of recognition of self -as an active, suffering, and accountable agent to which allusion -has just been made. But, over and above the animal, the child has -now at its command a much more improved machinery of sign-making, -which, as we have before seen, is due to the higher evolution of its -receptual ideation. Now among the contents of this ideation is a better -apprehension of the mental states of other human beings, together with -a greatly increased power of denotative utterance, whereby the child is -able to name receptually such ejective states as it thus receptually -apprehends. These, therefore, severally receive their appropriate -denotations, and so gain clearness and precision as ejective images -of the corresponding states experienced by the child itself. “Mamma -pleased to Dodo” would have no meaning as spoken by a child, unless -the child knew from his own feelings what is the state of mind which -he thus ejectively attributes to his mother. Hence, we find that at -the same age the child will also say “Dodo pleased to mamma.” Now it -is evident that we are here approaching the very borders of true or -conceptual self-consciousness. The child, no doubt, is still speaking -of himself in objective phraseology; but he has advanced so far in the -interpretation of his own states of mind as clearly to name them, in -the same way as he would name any external objects of sense-perception. -Thus is he enabled to fix these states before his mental vision as -things which admit of being denoted by verbal signs, although as yet -he has never thought about either the states of mind or his names for -them _as such_, and, therefore, has not yet attained to the faculty -of denomination. But the interval between denotation and denomination -has now become so narrow that the step from recognizing “Dodo” as not -only the object, but also the subject of mental changes, is rendered at -once easy and inevitable. The mere fact of attaching verbal signs to -mental states has the effect of focussing attention upon those states; -and when attention is thus focussed habitually, there is supplied the -only further condition which is required to enable a mind, through its -memory of previous states, to compare its past with its present, and so -to reach that apprehension of continuity among its own states wherein -the full introspective, or conceptual consciousness of self consists. - -Several subordinate features in the evolution of this conceptual from -pre-conceptual self-consciousness were described; but it is needless -again to mention them. Enough has been here said to show ample grounds -for the conclusions which my chapter on “Self-consciousness” was -mainly concerned in establishing—namely, that language is quite as -much the antecedent as it is the consequent of self-consciousness; -that pre-conceptual predication is indicative of a pre-conceptual -self-consciousness; and that from these there naturally and inevitably -arise those higher powers of conceptual predication and conceptual -self-consciousness on which my opponents (disregarding the phases that -lead up to them) have sought to rear their alleged distinction of kind -between the brute and the man. - -Thus, as a general result of the whole inquiry so far, we may say -that throughout the entire range of mental phenomena we have found -one and the same distinction to obtain between the faculties of -mind as perceptual, receptual, and conceptual. Percept, Recept, and -Concept; Perceptual Judgment, Receptual Judgment, and Conceptual -Judgment; Indication, Denotation, and Denomination;—these are all -manifestations, in different regions of psychological inquiry, of the -same psychological distinctions. And we have seen that the distinction -between a Recept and a Concept, which is thus carried through all -the fabric of mind, is really the only distinction about which there -can be any dispute. Moreover, we have seen that the distinction -is on all hands allowed to depend on the presence or absence of -self-consciousness. Lastly, we have seen that even in the province of -self-consciousness itself the same distinction admits of being traced: -there is a form of self-consciousness which may be termed receptual, as -well as that which may be termed conceptual. The whole question before -us thus resolves itself into an inquiry touching the relation between -these two forms of self-consciousness: is it or is it not observable -that the one is developmentally continuous with the other? Can we or -can we not perceive that in the growing child the powers of receptual -self-consciousness, which it shares with a brute, pass by slow and -natural stages into those powers of conceptual self-consciousness which -are distinctive of a man? - -This question was fully considered in Chapter XI. I had previously -shown that so far as the earliest, or indicative phase of language is -concerned, no difference even of degree can be alleged between the -infant and the animal. I had also shown that neither could any such -difference be alleged with regard to the earlier stages of the next -two phases—namely, the denotative and the receptually connotative. -Moreover, I had shown that no difference of kind could be alleged -between this lower receptual utterance which a child shares with a -brute, and that higher receptual utterance which it proceeds to develop -prior to the advent of self-consciousness. Lastly, I had shown that -this higher receptual utterance gives to the child a psychological -instrument whereby to work its way from a merely receptual to an -incipiently conceptual consciousness of self. Such being the state -of the facts as established by my previous analysis, I put to my -opponents the following dilemma. Taking the case of a child about two -years old, who is able to frame such a rudimentary, communicative, or -pre-conceptual proposition as “Dit ki” (Sister is crying), I proceeded -thus. - -“Dit” is the denotative name of one recept, “ki” the denotative name of -another: the object and the action which these two recepts severally -represent happen to occur together before the child’s observation: -the child, therefore, denotes them simultaneously—_i.e._ brings -them into _apposition_. The apposition in consciousness of these two -recepts, with their corresponding denotations, is thus effected _for_ -the child by the logic of events: it is not effected _by_ the child in -the way of any intentional or self-conscious grouping of its ideas, -such as we have seen to be the distinguishing feature of the logic of -concepts. Here, then, comes the dilemma. For I say, either you here -have conceptual judgment, or else you have not. If you say that this -is conceptual judgment, you destroy the basis of your own distinction -between man and brute, because then you must also say that brutes -conceptually judge—the child as yet not having attained to conceptual -self-consciousness. If, on the other hand, you say that here you have -not conceptual judgment, inasmuch as you have not self-consciousness, -I ask at what stage in the subsequent development of the child’s -intelligence you would consider conceptual judgment to arise. Should -you answer that it first arises when conceptual self-consciousness -first supplies the condition to its arising, I must refer you to the -proof already given that the advent of self-consciousness is itself a -gradual process, the precedent conditions of which are supplied far -down in the animal series. But if this is so, where the faculty of -stating a truth perceived passes into the higher faculty of perceiving -the truth as true, there is a continuous series of gradations -connecting the one faculty with the other. Up to the point where this -continuous series of gradations begins, the mind of the child is, as I -have already proved, indistinguishable from the mind of an animal by -any one principle of psychology. Will you, then, maintain that up to -this time the two orders of psychical existence are identical in kind, -but that during its ascent through this final series of gradations the -human intelligence becomes distinct in kind from that of animals, and -_therefore also from its own previous self_? If so, your argument here -ends in a contradiction. - -In confirmation of this my general argument, two subsidiary -considerations were then added. The first was that although the -advance to true self-consciousness from lower grades of mental -development is no doubt a very great and important matter, still -it is not so great and important in comparison with what this -development is afterwards destined to become, as to make us feel that -it constitutes any distinction _sui generis_—or even, perhaps, the -principal distinction—between the man and the brute. For even when -self-consciousness does arise, and has become fairly well developed, -the powers of the human mind are still in an almost infantile -condition. In other words, the first genesis of true self-consciousness -marks a comparatively low level in the evolution of the human mind—as -we might expect that it should, if its genesis depends upon, and -therefore lies so near to, those precedent conditions in merely animal -psychology to which I have assigned it. But, if so, does it not -follow that, great as the importance of self-consciousness afterwards -proves to be in the development of distinctively human ideation, -in itself, or in its first beginning, it does not betoken any very -perceptible advance upon those powers of pre-conceptual ideation which -it immediately follows? There is thus shown to be even less reason -for regarding the first advent of conceptual self-consciousness as -marking a psychological difference of kind, than there would be so -to regard the advent of those higher powers of conceptual ideation -which subsequently—though as gradually—supervene between early -childhood and youth. Yet no one has hitherto ventured to suggest that -the intelligence of a child and the intelligence of a youth display a -difference of kind. - -The second subsidiary consideration which I adduced was, that even -in the case of a fully developed self-conscious intelligence, both -receptual and pre-conceptual ideation continue to play an important -part. The vast majority of our verbal propositions are made for the -practical purposes of communication, or without the mind pausing to -contemplate the propositions in the light of self-consciousness. No -doubt in many cases, or in those where highly abstract ideation is -concerned, this independence of the two faculties is more apparent -than real: it arises from each having undergone so much elaboration -by the assistance which it has derived from the other, that both are -now in possession of a large body of organized material on which to -operate, without requiring, whenever they are exercised, to build up -the structure of this material _ab initio_. When I say “Heat is a mode -of motion,” I am using what is now to me a mere verbal sign, which -expresses an external fact: I do not require to examine my own ideas -upon the abstract relation which the proposition sets forth, although -for the original attainment of these ideas I had to exercise many and -complex efforts of conceptual thought. But although I hold this to be -the true explanation of the apparent independence of predication and -introspection in all cases of highly abstract thought, I am convinced, -on the ground of adequate reasons given, that in all cases where -those lower orders of ideation are concerned to which I have so often -referred as receptual and pre-conceptual, the independence is not only -apparent, but real. Now, if the reasons which I have assigned for this -conclusion are adequate—and they are reasons sanctioned by Mill,—it -follows that the ideation concerned in ordinary predication becomes so -closely affiliated with that which is expressed in the lower levels -of sign-making, that even if the connecting links were not supplied -by the growing child, no one would be justified, on psychological -grounds alone, in alleging any difference of kind between one level and -another. The object of all sign-making is communication, and from our -study of the lower animals we know that communication first has to do -exclusively with recepts, while from our study of the growing child we -know that it is the signs used in the communication of recepts which -first lead to the formation of concepts. For concepts are first of all -named recepts, known as such; and we have seen in previous chapters -that this kind of knowledge (_i.e._ of names as names) is rendered -possible by introspection, which, in turn, is reached by the naming of -self as an agent. But even after the power of conceptual introspection -has been fully reached, demand is not always made upon it for the -communication of merely receptual knowledge; and therefore it is that -not every proposition requires to be introspectively contemplated as -such before it can be made. Given the power of denotative nomination on -the one hand, and the power of even the lowest degree of connotative -nomination on the other, and all the conditions are furnished to -the formation of non-conceptual statements, which differ from true -propositions only in that they do not themselves become objects of -thought. And the only difference between such a statement when made by -a young child, and the same statement when similarly made by a grown -man, is that in the former case it is not even _potentially_ capable of -itself becoming an object of thought. - - * * * * * - -The investigation having been thus concluded so far as comparative -psychology was concerned, I next turned upon the subject the -independent light of comparative philology. Whereas we had hitherto -been dealing with what on grounds of psychological analysis alone -we might fairly infer were the leading phases in the development of -distinctively human ideation, we now turned to that large mass of -direct evidence which is furnished by the record of Language, and is -on all hands conceded to render a kind of unintentional record of the -pre-historic progress of this ideation. - -The first great achievement of comparative philology has been that of -demonstrating, beyond all possibility of question, that language as -it now exists did not appear ready-made, or by way of any specially -created intuition. Comparative philology has furnished a completed -proof of the fact that language, as we now know it, has been the result -of a gradual evolution. In the chapter on “Comparative Philology,” -therefore, I briefly traced the principles of language growth, so far -as these are now well recognized by all philologists. It was shown, -as a matter of classification, that the thousand or more existing -languages fall into about one hundred families, all the members of each -family being more or less closely allied, while members of different -families do not present evidence of genetic affinity. Nevertheless, -these families admit of being comprised under larger groups or -“orders,” in accordance with certain characteristics of structure, or -type, which they present. Of these types all philologists are agreed -in distinguishing between the Isolating, the Agglutinating, and the -Inflectional. Some philologists make a similar distinction between -these and the Polysynthetic, while all are agreed that from the -agglutinative the Incorporating type has been derived, and from the -inflectional the Analytic. - -Passing on from classification to phylogeny, we had to consider the -question of genetic relationship between the three main orders, _inter -se_, and also between the Polysynthetic type and the Agglutinating. -The conflict of authoritative opinion upon this question was shown to -have no bearing upon the subject-matter of this treatise, further than -to emphasize the doctrine of the polyphylectic origin of language—the -probability appearing to be that, regarded as types, both the isolating -and the polysynthetic are equally archaic, or, at all events, that they -have been of equally independent growth. In this connection I adduced -the hypothesis of Dr. Hale, to the effect that the many apparently -independent tongues which are spoken by different native tribes of -the New World, may have been in large part due to the inventions -of accidentally isolated children. The curious correlation between -multiplicity of independent tongues and districts favourable to the -life of unprotected children—in Africa as well as in America—seemed -to support this hypothesis; while good evidence was given to show that -children, if left much alone, do invent for themselves languages which -have little or no resemblance to that of their parents. - -Without recapitulating all that was said upon the phases and causes of -linguistic evolution in its various lines of descent, it will be enough -to remind the reader that in every case the result of philological -inquiry is here the same—namely, to find that languages become simpler -in their structure the further they are traced backwards, until we -arrive at their so-called “roots.” These are sometimes represented as -the mysterious first principles of language, or even as the aboriginal -_data_ whose origin is inexplicable. As a matter of fact, however, -these roots are nothing more than the ultimate results of philological -analysis: in no other sense than this can they be supposed “primary.” -Seeing, then, that these roots represent the materials of language -up to the place where the evolution of language no longer admits of -being clearly traced, it is evident that their antecedents, whatever -they may have been, necessarily lie beyond the reach of philological -demonstration, as distinguished from philological inference. This, -of course, is what an evolutionist knows antecedently _must be the -case somewhere_ in the course of any inquiry touching the process of -evolution, wherever he may have occasion to trace it. For the further -he is able to trace it, the nearer must he be coming to the place where -the very material which he is investigating has taken its origin; -and as it is this material itself which furnishes the evidences of -evolution, when it has been traced back to its own origin, the inquiry -reaches a vanishing point. Adopting the customary illustration of a -tree, we might say that when a philologist has traced the development -of the leaves from the twigs, the twigs from the branches, the branches -from the stems, and the stems from the roots, he has given to the -evolutionist all the evidence of evolution which in this particular -line of inquiry is antecedently possible. The germ of ideation out of -which the roots developed must obviously lie beyond the reach of the -philologist as such; and if any light is to be thrown upon the nature -of this germ, or if any evidence is to be yielded of the phases whereby -the germ gave origin to the roots, this must be done by some other -lines of inquiry finding similar germs giving rise to similar products -elsewhere. In the present instance, the only place where we can look -for such parallel processes of evolution is in the case of the growing -child, which I have already considered. - -Here, then, we are in the presence of exactly the same distinction with -regard to the origin of Language, as we were at the beginning of this -treatise with regard to the origin of Man. For we there saw that, while -we have the most cogent historical proof of the principles of evolution -having governed the progress of civilization, we have no such direct -proof of the descent of man from a brutal ancestry. And here likewise -we find that, so long as the light of philology is able to guide us, -there can be no doubt that the principles of evolution have determined -the gradual development of languages, in a manner strictly analogous -to that in which they have determined the ever-increasing refinement -and complexity of social organizations. Now, in the latter case we saw -that such direct evidence of evolution from lower to higher levels of -culture renders it well-nigh certain that the method must have extended -backwards beyond the historical period; and hence that such direct -evidence of evolution uniformly pervading the historical period in -itself furnishes a strong _primâ facie_ presumption that this period -was itself reached by means of a similarly gradual development of human -faculty. And thus, also, it is in the case of language. If philology -is able to prove the fact of evolution in all known languages as far -back as the primitive roots out of which they have severally grown, the -presumption becomes exceedingly strong that these earliest and simplest -elements, like their later and more complex products, were the result -of a natural growth. Or, in the words already quoted from Geiger, -we cannot forbear concluding that language must once have had no -existence at all. Nevertheless, it is important to distinguish between -demonstrated fact and speculative inference, however strong; and, -therefore, I began by stating the stages of evolution through which -languages are now known to have passed from the root-stage upwards. -Having done this, I proceeded to consider the question touching the -origin of these roots themselves. - -First, as to their number, we found that the outside estimate, in the -younger days of philological research, gave one thousand as a fair -average of the roots which go to feed any living language; but that -this estimate might now be safely reduced by three-fourths. Indeed, -in his latest work, Professor Max Müller professes to have reduced -the roots of Sanskrit to as low a number as 121, and thinks that even -this is excessive. Regarding the character of roots, we saw that some -philologists look upon them as the actual words which were used by -the pre-historic speakers, who, therefore, “talked with one another -in single syllables, indicative of ideas of prime importance, but -wanting all designation of their relations.”[335] On the other hand, -it is now the generally accepted belief, that “roots are the phonetic -and significant types discovered by the analysis of the comparative -philologist as common to a group of allied words,”[336]—or, as it -were, composite phonograms of families of words long since extinct as -individuals. We saw, however, that this difference of opinion among -philologists does not affect the present inquiry, seeing that even -the phonetic-type theory does not question that the unknown words out -of the composition of which a root is now extracted must have been -genetically allied with one another, and exhibited the closeness of -their kinship by a close similarity of their sounds. - -A much more important question for us is the character of these roots -with respect to their significance. In this connection we found that -they indicate what Professor Max Müller calls “general ideas,” or -“concepts;” bear testimony to an already and, comparatively speaking, -advanced stage of social culture; are all expressive either of actions -or states; and betray no signs of imitative origin. Taking each of -these characters separately, we found that although all the 121 roots -of Sanskrit are expressive of general ideas, the order of generality -is so low as for the most part to belong to that which I had previously -called “lower concepts,” or “named recepts.” Next, that they all bear -intrinsic testimony to their own comparatively recent origin, and, -therefore, are “primitive” only in the sense of representing the last -result of philological analysis: they certainly are very far from -primitive in the sense of being aboriginal. Again, that they are all -of the nature of verbs was shown to be easily explicable; and, lastly, -the fact that none of them betray any imitative source is not to be -wondered at, even on the supposition that onomatopœia entered largely -into the composition of aboriginal speech. For, on the one hand, we -saw that in the struggle for existence among aboriginal and early -words, those only could have stood any chance of survival—_i.e._ of -leaving progeny—which had attained to some degree of connotative -extension, or “generality;” and, on the other hand, that in order to -do this an onomatopoetic word must first have lost its onomatopoetic -significance. A large body of evidence was adduced in support of the -onomatopoetic theory, and certain objections which have been advanced -against it were, I think, thoroughly controverted. Later on, however, -we saw that the question as to the degree in which onomatopœia entered -in to the construction of aboriginal speech is really a question of -secondary interest to the evolutionist. Whether in the first instance -words were all purely arbitrary, all imitative, or some arbitrary and -some imitative,—in any case the course of their subsequent evolution -would have been the same. By connotative extension in divergent lines, -meanings would have been progressively multiplied in those lines -through all the progeny of ever-multiplying terms—just in the same -way as we find to be the case in “baby-talk,” and as philologists have -amply proved to be the case with the growth of languages in general. - -That speech from the first should have been concerned with the naming -of generic ideas, or higher recepts, as well as with particular objects -of sense, is what the evolutionist would antecedently expect. It must -be remembered that the kind of classification with which recepts are -concerned is that which lies nearest to the automatic groupings of -sensuous perception: it depends on an absence of any power analytically -to distinguish less perceptible points of difference among more -conspicuous points of resemblance—or non-essential analogies among -essential analogies with which they happen to be frequently associated -in experience. On the other hand, the kind of classification with -which concepts are concerned is that which lies furthest from the -automatic groupings of sensuous perception: it depends on the power -of analytically distinguishing between essentials and non-essentials -among resemblances which occur associated together in experience. -Classification there doubtless is in both cases; but in the one it is -due to the obviousness of analogies, while in the other it is due to -the mental dissociation of analogies as apparent and real. Or else, in -the one case it is due to constancy of association in experience of the -objects, attributes, actions, &c., classified; while in the other case -it is due to a conscious disregard of such association. - -Now, if we remember these things, we can no longer wonder that the -palæontology of speech should prove early roots to have been expressive -of “generic,” as distinguished from “general” ideas. The naming of -actions and processes so habitual, or so immediately apparent to -perception, as those to which the “121 concepts” tabulated by Professor -Max Müller refer, does not betoken an order of ideation very much -higher than the pre-conceptual, in virtue of which a young child is -able to give expression to its higher receptual life, prior to the -advent of self-consciousness. In view of these considerations, my only -wonder is that the 121 root-words do not present _better_ evidence of -conceptual thought. This, however, only shows how comparatively small a -part self-conscious reflection need play in the practical life of early -man, even when so far removed from the really “primitive” condition of -hitherto wordless man as was that of the pastoral people who have left -this record of ideation in the roots of Aryan speech. - -After having thus explained the absence of words significant of -“particular ideas” among the roots of existing language, as well -as the generic character of those which the struggle for existence -has permitted to come down to us, we went on to consider sundry -other corroborations of our previous analysis which are yielded -by the science of philology. First we saw that this science has -definitely proved two general facts with regard to the growth of -predication—namely, that in all the still existing radical languages -there is no distinction between noun, adjective, verb, or particle; -and that the structure of all other languages shows this to have been -the primitive condition of language-structure in general: “every -noun and every verb was originally by itself a complete sentence,” -consisting of a subject and predicate fused into one—or rather, let -us say, not yet differentiated into the _two_, much less into the -_three_ parts which now go to constitute the fully evolved structure -of a proposition. Now, this form of predication is “condensed” only -because it is undeveloped; it is the undifferentiated protoplasm of -predication, wherein the “parts of speech” as yet have no existence. -And just as this, the earliest stage of predication, is distinctive -of the pre-conceptual stage of ideation in a child, so it is of the -pre-conceptual ideation of the race. Abundant evidence was therefore -given of the gradual evolution of predicative utterance, _pari -passu_ with conceptual thought—evidence which is woven through the -whole warp and woof of every language which is now spoken by man. In -particular, we saw that pronouns were originally words indicative -of space relations, and strongly suggestive of accompanying acts of -pointing—“I” being equivalent to “this one,” “He” to “that one,” &c. -Moreover, just as the young child begins by speaking of itself in the -third person, so “Man regarded himself as an object before he learnt -to regard himself as a subject,”[337] as is proved by the fact that -“the objective cases of the personal as well as of the other pronouns, -are always older than the subjective.”[338] Pronominal elements -afterwards became affixed to nouns and verbs, when these began to be -differentiated from one another; and thus various applications of a -primitive and highly generalized noun or verb were rendered by means -of these elements, which, as even Professor Max Müller allows, “must -be considered as remnants of the earliest and almost pantomimic phase -of language, in which language was hardly as yet what we mean by -language, namely _logos_, a gathering, but only a pointing.” Similarly, -Professor Sayce remarks of this stage in the evolution of predicative -utterance—which, be it observed, is precisely analogous to that -occupied by a young child whose highly generalized words require to -be assisted by gestures—“It is certain that there was a time in the -history of speech when articulate or semi-articulate sounds uttered -by primitive man were made the significant representations of thought -by the gestures with which they were accompanied: and this complex of -sound and gesture—a complex in which, be it remembered, the sound had -no meaning apart from the gesture—was the earliest sentence.” Thus it -was that “grammar has grown out of gesture”—different parts of speech, -with the subsequent commencements of declension, conjugation, &c., -being all so many children of gesticulation: but when in subsequent -ages the parent was devoured by this youthful progeny, they continued -to pursue an independent growth in more or less divergent lines of -linguistic development. - -For instance, we have abundant evidence to prove that, even after -articulate language had gained a firm footing, there was no distinction -between the nominative and genitive cases of substantives, nor between -these and adjectives, nor even between any words as subject-words -and predicate-words. All these three grammatical relations required -to be expressed in the same way, namely, by a mere apposition of the -generalized terms themselves. In course of time, however, these three -grammatical differentiations were effected by conventional changes -of position between the words apposed, in some cases the form of -predication being A B, and that of attribution or possession B A, while -in other branches of language-growth the reverse order has obtained. -Eventually, however, “these primitive contrivances for distinguishing -between the predicate, the attribute, and the genitive, when the three -ideas had in course of ages been evolved by the mind of the speaker, -gradually gave way to the later and more refined machinery of suffixes, -auxiliaries, and the like.”[339] - -And so it is with all the other so-called “parts of speech,” in -those languages which, in having passed beyond the primitive stage, -have developed parts of speech at all. “These are the very broadest -outlines of the process by which conceptual roots were predicated, by -which they came under the sway of the categories—became substantives, -adjectives, adverbs, and verbs, or by whatever other names the results -thus obtained may be described. The minute details of this process, and -the marvellous results obtained by it, can be studied in the grammar of -every language or family of languages.”[340] Thus, philology is able to -trace back, stage by stage, the form of predication as it occurs in the -most highly developed, or inflective language, to that earliest stage -of language in general, which I have called the indicative. - -Many other authorities having been quoted in support of these general -statements, and also for the purpose of tracing the evolution of -predicative utterance in more detail, I proceeded to give illustrations -of different phases of its development in the still existing languages -of savages; and thus proved that they, no less than primitive man, are -unable to “supply the blank form of a judgment,” or to furnish what -my opponents regard as the criterion of human faculty. Therefore, the -only policy which can possibly remain for these opponents to take up, -is that of abandoning their Aristotelian position: no longer to take -their stand upon the grounds of purely _formal_ predication as this -happens to have been developed in the Indo-European branch of language; -but altogether upon those of _material_ predication, or, as I may say, -upon the meaning or substance of a judgment, as distinguished from its -grammar or accidents. - -In other words, it may possibly still be argued that, although the -issue is now thrown back from the “blank form” of predication on which -my opponents have hitherto relied, to the hard fact of predication -itself, this hard fact still remains. Even though I have shown that in -the absence of any parts of speech predication requires to be conducted -in a most inefficient manner; still, it may be said, predication _is_ -conducted, and _must be_ conducted—for assuredly it is only in order -to conduct it that speech can ever have existed at all. - -Now, I showed that if my opponents do not adopt this change of -position, their argument is at an end. For I proved that, after -all the foregoing evidence, there is no longer any possibility of -question touching the continuity of growth between the predicative -germ in a sentence-word, and the fully evolved structure of a formal -proposition. But, on the other hand, I next showed that this change -of position, even if it were made, could be of no avail. For, if the -term “predication” be thus extended to a “sentence-word,” it thereby -becomes deprived of that distinctive meaning upon which alone the -whole argument of my adversaries is reared: it is conceded that no -distinction obtains between speaking and pointing: the predicative -phase of language has been identified with the indicative: man and -brute are acknowledged to be “brothers.” That is to say, if it be -maintained that the indicative signs of the infant child or the -primitive man are predicative, no shadow of a reason can be assigned -for withholding this designation from the indicative signs of the -lower animals. On the other hand, if this term be denied to both, its -application to the case of spoken language in its fully evolved form -must be understood to signify but a difference of phase or degree, -seeing that the one order of sign-making has been now so completely -proved to be but the genetic and improved descendant of the other. -In short, the truth obviously is that we have _a proved continuity -of development between all stages of the sign-making faculty_; and, -therefore, that any attempt to draw between one and another of them a -distinction of kind has been shown to be impossible. - -The conclusions thus reached at the close of Chapter XIV. with regard -to the philology of predication were greatly strengthened by additional -facts which were immediately adduced in the next Chapter with regard -to the philology of conception. Here the object was to throw the -independent light of philology upon a point which had already been -considered as a matter of psychology, namely, the passage of receptual -denotation into conceptual denomination. This is a point which had -previously been considered only with reference to the individual: it -had now to be considered with reference to the race. - -First it was shown that, owing to the young child being surrounded by -an already constructed grammar of predicative forms, the earlier phases -in the evolution of speech are greatly foreshortened in the ontogeny -of mankind, as compared with what the study of language shows them to -have been in the phylogeny. Gesture-signs are rapidly starved out when -a child of to-day first begins to speak, and so to learn the use of -grammatical forms. But early man was under the necessity of elaborating -his grammar out of his gesture-signs—and this at the same time as he -was also coining his sentence-words. Therefore, while the acquisition -of names and forms of speech by infantile man must have depended in -chief part upon gestures and grimace, this acquisition by the infantile -child is actively inimical to both. - -Next we saw that the philological doctrine of “sentence-words” threw -considerable additional light on my psychological distinction between -ideas as general and generic. For a sentence-word is the expression -of an idea hitherto _generalized_, that is to say _undifferentiated_. -Such an idea, as we now know, stands at the antipodes of thought from -one which is due to what is called a _generalization_—that is to say, -a conceptual synthesis of the results of a previous analysis. And the -doctrine of sentence-words recognizes an immense historical interval -(corresponding with the immense psychological interval) between the -generic and the general orders of ideation. - -Again, we saw that in all essential particulars the semiotic -construction of this the most primitive mode of articulate -communication which has been preserved in the archæology of spoken -language, bears a precise resemblance to that which occurs in the -natural language of gesture. As we saw, “gesture-language has no -grammar properly so called;” and we traced in considerable detail the -analogies—so singularly numerous and exact—between the forms of -sentences as now revealed in gesture and as they first emerged in the -early days of speech. In other words, the earliest record that speech -is able to yield as to the nature of its own origin, clearly reveals to -us this origin as emerging from the yet more primitive language of tone -and gesture. For this is the only available explanation of their close -family resemblance in the matter of syntax. - -Furthermore, we have seen that in gesture language, as in the forms of -primitive speech now preserved in roots, the purposes of predication -are largely furthered by the mere apposition of denotative terms. A -generalized term of this kind (which as yet is neither noun, adjective, -nor verb), when brought into apposition with another of the same kind, -serves to convey an idea of relationship between them, or to state -something of the one by means of the other. Yet apposition of this kind -need betoken no truly conceptual thought. As we have already seen, the -laws of merely sensuous association are sufficient to insure that when -the objects, qualities, or events, which the terms severally denote, -happen to occur together in Nature, they _must_ be thus brought into -corresponding apposition by the mind: it is the logic of events which -inevitably guides such pre-conceptual utterance into a statement of -the truth that is perceived: the truth is _received into_ the mind, -not _conceived by_ it. And it is obvious how repeated statements of -truth thus delivered in receptual ideation, lead onwards to conceptual -ideation, or to statements of truth as true. - -Now, if all this has been the case, it is obvious that aboriginal -words can have referred only to matters of purely receptual -significance—_i.e._ “to those physical acts and qualities which are -directly apprehensible by the senses.” Accordingly, we find in all the -earliest root-words, which the science of philology has unearthed, -unquestionable and unquestioned evidence of “fundamental metaphor,” or -of a conceptual extension of terms which were previously of no more -than receptual significance. Indeed, as Professor Whitney says, “so -pervading is it, that we never regard ourselves as having read the -history of any intellectual or moral term till we have traced it back -to its physical origin.” Without repeating all that I have so recently -said upon this matter, it will be enough once more to insist on the -general conclusions to which it led—namely, psychological analysis -has already shown us the psychological priority of the recept; and now -philological research most strikingly corroborates this analysis by -actually finding the recept in the body of every concept. - -Lastly, I took a brief survey of the languages now spoken by many -widely separated races of savages, in order to show the extreme -deficiency of conceptual ideation that is thus represented. In the -result, we saw that what Archdeacon Farrar calls “the hopeless -poverty of the power of abstraction” is so surprising, that the most -ardent evolutionist could not well have desired a more significant -intermediary between the pre-conceptual intelligence of _Homo alalus_, -and the conceptual thought of _Homo sapiens_. - - * * * * * - -Having thus concluded the Philology of our subject, I proceeded, in the -last chapter, to consider the probable steps of the transition from -receptual to conceptual ideation in the race. - -First I dealt with a view which has been put forward on this matter -by certain German philologists, to the effect that speech originated -in wholly meaningless sounds, which in the first instance were due to -merely physiological conditions. By repeated association with the -circumstances under which they were uttered, these articulate sounds -are supposed to have acquired, as it were automatically, a semiotic -value. The answer to this hypothesis, however, evidently is, that -it ignores the whole problem which stands to be solved—namely, the -genesis of those powers of ideation which first put a soul of meaning -into the previously insignificant sounds. That is to say, it begs the -whole question which stands for solution, and, therefore, furnishes -no explanation whatsoever of the difference which has arisen between -man and brute. Nevertheless, the principles set forth in this the -largest possible extension of the so-called interjectional theory, are, -I believe, sound enough in themselves: it is only the premiss from -which in this instance they start that is untrue. This premiss is that -aboriginal man presented no rudiments of the sign-making faculty, and, -therefore, that this faculty itself required to be created _de novo_ by -accidental associations of sounds with things. But we have seen, as a -matter of fact, that this must have been very far from having been the -case; and, therefore, while recognizing such elements of truth as the -“purely physiological” hypothesis in question presents, I rejected it -as in itself not even approaching a full explanation of the origin of -speech. - -Next I dealt with the hypothesis that was briefly sketched by Mr. -Darwin. Premising, as Geiger points out, that the presumably superior -sense of sight, by fastening attention upon the movements of the mouth -in vocal sign-making, must have given our simian ancestry an advantage -over other species of quadrumana in the matter of associating sounds -with receptual ideas; we next endeavoured to imagine an anthropoid ape, -social in habits, sagacious in mind, and accustomed to use its voice -extensively as an organ of sign-making, after the manner of social -quadrumana in general. Such an animal might well have distanced all -others in the matter of making signs, and even proceeded far enough to -use sounds in association with gestures, as “sentence-words”—_i.e._ -as indicative of such highly generalized recepts as the presence of -danger, &c.,—even if it did not go the length of making denotative -sounds, after the manner of talking-birds. Moreover, as Mr. Darwin has -pointed out, there is a strong probability that this simian ancestor -of mankind was accustomed to use its voice in musical cadences, “as do -some of the gibbon-apes at the present day;” and this habit might have -laid the basis for that semiotic interruption of vocal sounds in which -consists the essence of articulation. - -My own theory of the matter, however, is slightly different to this. -For, while accepting all that goes to constitute the substance of Mr. -Darwin’s suggestion, I think it is almost certain that the faculty of -articulate sign-making was a product of much later evolution, so that -the creature who first presented this faculty must have already been -more human than “ape-like.” This _Homo alalus_ stands before the mind’s -eye as an almost brutal object, indeed; yet still, erect in attitude, -shaping flints to serve as tools and weapons, living in tribes or -societies, and able in no small degree to communicate the logic of his -recepts by means of gesture-signs, facial expressions, and vocal tones. -From such an origin, the subsequent evolution of sign-making faculty in -the direction of articulate sounds would be an even more easy matter to -imagine than it was under the previous hypothesis. Having traced the -probable course of this evolution, as inferred by the aid of sundry -analogies; and having dwelt upon the remarkable significance in this -connection of the inarticulate sounds which still survive as so-called -“clicks” in the lowly-formed languages of Africa; I went on to detail -sundry considerations which seemed to render probable the prolonged -existence of the imaginary being in question—traced the presumable -phases of his subsequent evolution, and met the objection which might -be raised on the score of _Homo alalus_ being _Homo postulatus_. - -In conclusion, however, I pointed out that whatever might be the truth -as touching the time when the faculty of articulation arose, the -course of mental evolution, after it did arise, must have been the -same. Without again repeating the sketch which I gave of what this -course must have been, it will be enough to say, in the most general -terms, that I believe it began with sentence-words in association with -gesture-signs; that these acted and reacted on one another to the -higher elaboration of both; that denotative names, for the most part -of onomatopoetic origin, rapidly underwent connotative extensions; -that from being often and necessarily used in apposition, nascent -predications arose; that these gave origin, in later times, to the -grammatical distinctions between adjectives and genitive cases on -the one hand, and predicative words on the other; that likewise -gesture-signs were largely concerned in the origin of other grammatical -forms, especially of pronominal elements, many of which afterwards went -to constitute the material out of which the forms of declension and -conjugation were developed; but that although pronouns were thus among -the earliest words which were differentiated by mankind as separate -parts of speech, it was not until late in the day that any pronouns -were used especially indicative of the first person. The significance -of this latter fact was shown to be highly important. We have already -seen that the whole distinction between man and brute resides in -the presence or absence of conceptual thought, which, in turn, is -but an expression of the presence or absence of self-consciousness. -Consequently, the whole of this treatise has been concerned with the -question whether we have here to do with a distinction of kind or of -degree—of origin or of development. In the case of the individual, -there can be no doubt that it is a distinction of degree, or -development; and I had previously shown that in this case the phase -of development in question is marked by a change of phraseology—a -discarding of objective terms for the adoption of subjective when the -speaker has occasion to speak of self. And now I showed that in the -fact here before us we have a precisely analogous proof: in exactly the -same way as psychology marks for us “the transition in the individual,” -philology marks for us “the transition in the race.” - -In the foregoing _résumé_ of the present instalment of my work I have -aimed only at giving an outline sketch of the main features. And -even these main features have been so much abbreviated that it is -questionable whether more harm than good will not have been done to my -argument by so imperfect a summary of it. Nevertheless, as a general -result, I think that two things must now have been rendered apparent -to every impartial mind. First, that the opponents of evolution have -conspicuously failed to discharge their _onus probandi_, or to justify -the allegation that the human mind constitutes a great and unique -exception to the otherwise uniform law of evolution. Second, that not -only is this allegation highly improbable _a priori_, and incapable -of proof _a posteriori_, but that all the evidence that can possibly -be held to bear upon the subject makes directly on the side of its -disproof. The only semblance of an argument to be adduced in its -favour rests upon the distinction between ideation as conceptual and -non-conceptual. That such a distinction exists I freely admit; but -that it is a distinction of kind I emphatically deny. For I have shown -that the comparatively few writers who still continue to regard it as -such, found their arguments on a psychological analysis which is of a -demonstrably imperfect character; that no one of them has ever paid -any attention at all to the actual process of psychogenesis as this -occurs in a growing child; and that, with the exception of Professor -Max Müller, the same has to be said with regard to their attitude -towards the “witness of philology.” Touching the psychogenesis of a -child, I have shown that there is unquestionable demonstration of a -gradual and uninterrupted passage from the one order of ideation to the -other; that so long as the child’s intelligence is moving only in the -non-conceptual sphere, it is not distinguishable in any one feature -of psychological import from the intelligence of the higher mammalia; -that when it begins to assume the attributes of conceptual ideation, -the process depends on the development of true self-consciousness out -of the materials supplied by that form of pre-existing or receptual -self-consciousness which the infant shares with the lower animals; -that the condition to this advance in mental evolution is given by a -perceptibly progressive development of those powers of denotative and -connotative utterance which are found as far down in the psychological -scale as the talking birds; that in the growing intelligence of a child -we have thus as complete a history of “ontogeny,” in its relation to -“phylogeny,” as that upon which the embryologist is accustomed to rely -when he reads the morphological history of a species in the epitome -which is furnished by the development of an individual; and, therefore, -that those are without excuse who, elsewhere adopting the principles -of evolution, have gratuitously ignored the direct evidence of -psychological transmutation which is thus furnished by the life-history -of every individual human being. - -Again, as regards the independent witness of philology, if we were -to rely on authority alone, the halting and often contradictory -opinions which from time to time have been expressed by Professor Max -Müller with reference to our subject, are greatly outweighed by those -of all his brother philologists. But, without in any way appealing -to authority further than to accept matters of fact on which all -philologists are agreed, I have purposely given Professor Max Müller an -even more representative place than any of the others, fully stated the -nature of his objections, and supplied what appears to me abundantly -sufficient answers. So far as I can understand the reasons of his -dissent from conclusions which his own admirable work has materially -helped to support, they appear to arise from the following grounds. -First, a want of clearness with regard to the principles of evolution -in general:[341] second, a failure clearly or constantly to recognize -that the roots of Aryan speech are demonstrably very far from primitive -in the sense of being aboriginal: third, a want of discrimination -between ideas as general and generic, or synthetic and unanalytical: -fourth, the gratuitous and demonstrably false assumption that in order -to name a mind must first conceive. Of these several grounds from -which his dissent appears to spring, the last is perhaps the most -important, seeing that it is the one upon which he most expressly -rears his objections. But if I have proved anything, I have proved -that there is a power of affixing verbal or other signs as marks of -merely receptual associations, and that this power is _invariably_ -antecedent to the origin of conceptual utterance in the only case -where this origin admits of being directly observed—_i.e._, in the -psychogenesis of a child. Again, in the case of pre-historic man, so -far as the palæontology of speech furnishes evidence upon the subject, -this makes altogether in favour of the view that in the race, as in -the individual, denotation preceded denomination, as antecedent and -consequent. Nay, I doubt whether Max Müller himself would disagree with -Geiger where the latter tersely says, in a passage hitherto unquoted, -“Why is it that the further we trace words backwards the less meaning -do they present? I know not of any other answer to be given than that -the further they go back the less conceptuality do they betoken.”[342] -Nor can he refuse to admit, with the same authority, that “conceptual -thought (_Begriff_) allows itself to be traced backwards into an ever -narrowing circle, and inevitably tends to a point where there is no -longer either thought or speech.”[343] But if these things cannot be -denied by Max Müller himself, I am at a loss to understand why he -should part company with other philologists with regard to the origin -of conceptual terms. With them he asserts that there can be no concepts -without words (spoken or otherwise), and with them he maintains that -when the meanings of words are traced back as far as philology can -trace them, they obviously tend to the vanishing point of which Geiger -speaks. Yet, merely on the ground that this vanishing point can never -be actually reached by the investigations of philology—_i.e._, that -words cannot record the history of their own birth,—he stands out for -an interruption of the principle of continuity at the place where words -originate. A position so unsatisfactory I can only explain by supposing -that he has unconsciously fallen into the fallacy of concluding that -because all A is B, therefore all B is A. Finding that there can be no -concepts without names, he concludes that there can be no names without -concepts.[344] And on the basis of such a conclusion he naturally finds -it impossible to explain how either names or concepts could have had -priority in time: both, it seems, must have been of contemporaneous -origin; and, if this were so, it is manifestly impossible to account -for the natural genesis of either. But the whole of this trouble is -imaginary. Once discard the plainly illogical inference that because -names are necessary to concepts, therefore concepts are necessary -to names, and the difficulty is at an end. Now, I have proved, _ad -nauseam_, that there are names and names: names denotative, and names -denominative; names receptual, as well as names conceptual. Even if -we had not had the case of the growing child actually to prove the -process—a case which he, in common with all my other opponents, in -this connexion ignores,—on general grounds alone, and especially from -our observations on the lower animals, we might have been practically -certain that the faculty of sign-making _must_ have preceded that of -_thinking the signs_. And whether these pre-conceptual signs were -made by gesture, grimace, intonation, articulation, or all combined, -clearly no difference would arise so far as any question of their -influence on psychogenesis is concerned. As a matter of fact, we -happen to know that the semiotic artifice of articulating vocal tones -for purposes of denotation, dates back so far as to bring us within -philologically measurable distance of the origin of denomination, or -conceptual thought—although we have seen good reason to conclude that -before that time tone, gesture, and grimace must have been much more -extensively employed in sign-making by aboriginal man than they now -are by any of the lower animals. So that, upon the whole, unless it -can be shown that my distinction between denotation and denomination -is untenable—unless, for instance, it can be shown that an infant -requires to think of names as such before it can learn to utter -them,—then I submit that no shadow of a difficulty lies against the -theory of evolution in the domain of philology. While, on the other -hand, all the special facts as well as all the general principles -hitherto revealed by this science make entirely for the conclusion, -that pre-conceptual denotation laid the psychological conditions which -were necessary for the subsequent growth of conceptual denomination; -and, therefore, yet once again to quote the high authority of Geiger, -“Speech created Reason; before its advent mankind was reasonless.”[345] - -And if this is true of philology, assuredly it is no less true of -psychology. For “the development of speech is only a copy of that chain -of processes, which began with the dawn of [human] consciousness, and -eventually ends in the construction of the most abstract idea.”[346] -Unless, therefore, it can be shown that my distinction between ideation -as receptual and conceptual is invalid, I know not how my opponents -are to meet the results of the foregoing analysis. Yet, if this -distinction should be denied, not only would they require to construct -the science of psychology anew; they would place themselves in the -curious position of repudiating the very distinction on which their -whole argument is founded. For I have everywhere been careful to place -it beyond question that what I have called receptual ideation, in all -its degrees, is identical with that which is recognized by my opponents -as non-conceptual; and as carefully have I everywhere shown that with -them I fully recognize the psychological difference between this order -of ideation and that which is conceptual. The only point in dispute, -therefore, is as to the possibility of a natural transition from the -one to the other. It is for them to show the impossibility. This they -have hitherto most conspicuously failed to do. On the other hand, I -now claim to have established the possibility beyond the reach of a -reasonable question. For I claim to have shown that the _probability_ -of such a transition having previously occurred in the race, as it -now occurs in every individual, is a probability that has been raised -tower-like by the accumulated knowledge of the nineteenth century. -Or, to vary the metaphor, this probability has been as a torrent, -gaining in strength and volume as it is successively fed by facts and -principles poured into it by the advance of many sciences. - -Of course it is always easy to withhold assent from a probability, -however strong: “My belief,” it may be said, “is not to be wooed; it -shall only be compelled.” Indeed, a man may even pride himself on the -severity of his requirements in this respect; and in popular writings -we often find it taken for granted that any scientific doctrine is -then only entitled to be regarded as scientific when it has been -demonstrated. But in science, as in other things, belief ought to be -proportionate to evidence; and although for this very reason we should -ever strive for the attainment of better evidence, scientific caution -of such a kind must not be confused with a merely ignorant demand -for impossible evidence. Actually to demonstrate the transition from -non-conceptual to conceptual ideation in the race, as it is every day -demonstrated in the individual, would plainly require the impossible -condition that conceptual thought should have observed its own origin. -To demand any demonstrative proof of the transition in the race would -therefore be antecedently absurd. But if, as Bishop Butler says, -“probability is the very guide of life,” assuredly no less is it the -very guide of science; and here, I submit, we are in the presence of -a probability so irresistible that to withhold from it the embrace of -conviction would be no longer indicative of scientific caution, but of -scientific incapacity. For if, as I am assuming, we already accept the -theory of evolution as applicable throughout the length and breadth of -the realm organic, it appears to me that we have positively _better_ -reasons for accepting it as applicable to the length and breadth of -the realm mental. In other words, looking to all that has now been -said, I cannot help feeling that there is actually better evidence of -a psychological transition from the brute to the man, than there is of -a morphological transition from one organic form to another, in any -of the still numerous instances where the intermediate links do not -happen to have been preserved. Thus, for example, in my opinion an -evolutionist of to-day who seeks to constitute the human mind a great -exception to the otherwise uniform principle of genetic continuity, has -an even more hopeless case than he would have were he to argue that a -similar exception ought to be made with regard to the structure of the -worm-like creature Balanoglossus. - -If this comparison should appear to betray any extravagant estimate -on my part of the cogency of the evidence which has thus far been -presented, I will now in conclusion ask it to be remembered that -my case is not yet concluded. For hitherto I have almost entirely -abstained from considering the mental condition of _savages_. The -reason why this important branch of my subject has not been touched -is because I reserve it for the next instalment of my work. But when -we leave the groundwork of psychological principles on which up to -this point we have been engaged, and advance to the wider field of -anthropological research in general, we shall find much additional -evidence of a more concrete kind, which almost uniformly tends to -substantiate the conclusions already gained. The corroboration thus -afforded is indeed, to my thinking, superfluous; and, therefore, -will not be adduced in this connection. Nevertheless, while tracing -the principles of mental evolution from the lowest levels which are -actually occupied by existing man, we shall find that no small light -is incidentally thrown upon the demonstrably still more primitive -intelligence of pre-historic man. Thus shall we find that we are -led back by continuous stages to a state of still human ideation, -which brings us into contact almost painfully close with that of the -higher apes. This, indeed, is a side of the general question which my -opponents are prone to ignore—just as they ignore the parallel side -which has to do with the psychogenesis of a child. And, of course, -when they thus ignore both the child and the savage, so as directly to -contrast the adult psychology of civilized man with that of the lower -animals, it is easy to show an enormous difference. But where the -question is as to whether this is a difference of degree or of kind, -the absurdity of disregarding the intermediate phases which present -themselves to actual observation is surely too obvious for comment. -At all events I think it may be safely promised, that when we come to -consider the case of savages, and through them the case of pre-historic -man, we shall find that, in the great interval which lies between such -grades of mental evolution and our own, we are brought far on the way -towards bridging the psychological distance which separates the gorilla -from the gentleman. - - - - - INDEX. - - - A - - Abstraction. _See_ Ideas - - Addison, Mrs. K., on sign-making by a jackdaw, 97 - - Adjectives, appropriately used by parrots, 129, 130, 152; - early use of, by children, 219; - not differentiated in early forms of speech, 295 _et seq._; - origin of Aryan, 306; - and in language generally, 385-86. - - Adverbs not differentiated in early forms of speech, 306 - - African Bushmen. _See_ Hottentots - - African languages. _See_ Languages - - Agglomerative. _See_ Languages - - Agglutinating. _See_ Languages - - American languages. _See_ Languages - - Analytic. _See_ Languages - - Anatomy, evidence of man’s descent supplied by, 19 - - Animals. _See_ Brutes - - Animism of primitive man, 275 - - Ants, intelligence of, 52, 53; - sign-making by, 91-95 - - Apes, brain-weight of, 16; - bodily structure of, 19; - counting by, 58, 215; - understanding of words by, 125, 126; - unable to imitate articulate sounds, 153-157; - psychological characters of anthropoid, in relation to the descent - of man, 364-370; - singing, 370, 373-378; - other vocal sounds made by, 374; - erect attitude assumed by, 381, 382 - - Appleyard on language of savages, 349 - - Apposition. _See_ Predication - - Aristotle, on intelligence of brutes, 12, - and of man, 20; - his classification of the animal kingdom, 79; - his logic based on grammar of the Greek language, 314, 320 - - Articulation, chap. vii.; - classification of different kinds of, 121; - meaningless, 121, 122; - understanding of, 122-129; - by dogs, 128; - use of, with intelligent signification by talking birds, 129-139; - arbitrary use of, by young children, 138-144; - relation of, to tone and gesture, 145-162; - importance of sense of sight to development of, 366, 367; - probable period and mode of genesis of in the race, 370-373 - - Aryan languages. _See_ Languages - - Aryan race, civilization of, 272; - antiquity of, 273 - - Audouin on a monkey recognizing pictorial representations, 188 - - Axe, discovery of, by neolithic man, 214 - - - B - - Barter only used by man, 19 - - Basque language. _See_ Language - - Bateman, Dr. F., on speech-centre of brain, 134, 135 - - Bates, on intelligence of ants, 92, 93; - on a monkey recognizing pictorial representations, 188. - - Bats the only mammals capable of flight, 156 - - Bear, intelligence of, 51; - understanding tones of human voice, 124 - - Beattie, Dr., on intelligence of a dog, 100 - - Bees, sign-making by, 90 - - Bell, Professor A. Graham, on teaching a dog to articulate, 128; - on the ideation of deaf-mutes, 150 - - Belt on intelligence of ants, 52, 92 - - Benfry on roots of Sanskrit, 267 - - Berkeley on ideas, 21, 22 - - Binet on analogies between perception and reason, 32 - and sensation, 37, 46 - - Bingley on bees understanding tones of human voice, 124 - - Bleek, on origin of pronouns, 302; - on the sentence-words of African Bushmen, 316, 337, 338; - on onomatopœia, 339; - on the clicks of Hottentots and African Bushmen, 373 - - Bonaparte, Prince Lucien, on possible number of articulate sounds, 373 - - Bopp on the origin of speech, 240 - - Bowen, Professor F., on psychology of judgment, 167 - - Boyd Dawkins, Professor, on discovery of axe by neolithic man, 214 - - Bramston, Miss, on intelligence of a dog, 56 - - Brazil, climate and native languages of, 262, 263 - - Brown, Thomas, on generalization, 44 - - Browning, A. H., on intelligence of a dog, 99, 100 - - Brutes, mind of, compared with human, 6-39; - emotions of, 7; - instincts of, 8; - volition of, 8; - intellect of, 9; - Mr. Mivart on psychology of, 10, 177; - as machines, 11; - rationality of, 11, 12; - soul of, 12; - Bishop Butler on immortality of, 12; - instances of intelligence of, 51-63; - ideas of causality in, 58-60; - appreciation of principles by, 60, 61; - sign-making by, 88-102; - understanding of words by, 123-127; - articulation by, 128-138, 152; - reasons why none have become intellectual rivals of man, 154-157; - self-consciousness in relation to, 175-178; - recognizing pictorial representations, 188, 189; - conditions to genesis of self-consciousness manifested by, 195-199; - counting by, 56-58, 214, 215; - psychology of, in relation to the descent of man, 364-384 - - Buffon, on intelligence of brutes, 12, 117; - his parrot, 201 - - Bunsen, on onomatopœia, 282; - on Egyptian language, 297, 298; - on the substantive verb, 309 - - Burton on sign-making by Indians, 105 - - Bushmen, clicks in the language of, 291 - - Butler, Bishop, on immortality of brutes, 12 - - - C - - California, climate and native languages of, 261, 262 - - Caldwell on language of savages, 349 - - Carlyle on fundamental metaphor, 344 - - Carpenter, Commander Alfred, on monkeys using stones to open oysters, - 382 - - Casalis on poverty of savage languages in abstract terms, 351 - - Cat, intelligence of, 59, 98, 99; - use of signs by, 158 - - Caterpillars, sign-making by, 95, 96 - - Causation, ideas of, in brutes, 58-60; - origin of idea of, in man, 210 - - Cebus, intelligence of, 60, 61; - different tones uttered by, 96 - - Champollion on Egyptian hieroglyphics, 311 - - Charlevoix on language of savages, 349 - - Cheyenne language. _See_ Languages - - Child, psychogenesis of, 4, 5; - emotions and instincts of, 7, 8; - intelligence of, as regards classification, 26, 27, 41, 66, 67; - instinctive and imitative articulation by, 121, 122; - understanding of words by infantile, 123; - spontaneous invention of words by, 138-143; - indicative stage of language in, 158, 218-222, 324; - denotation and connotation of, 179, 191, 218-231, 283-285; - recognizing portraits, &c., 188, 189; - rise of self-consciousness in, 200-212; - use of personal pronoun by, 201, 232, 408, 409; - hypothesis of languages having been originated by, 259-263; - undifferentiated language of, 296, 297, 317; - stages of language in, 157-193, 328; - differences between infantile and primitive man, as regards - development of speech, 329-334; - order of development of articulate sounds in, 372, 373 - - Cicero on the origin of speech, 240 - - Chimpanzee. _See_ Apes - - Chinese language. _See_ Language - - Classification, in relation to abstraction, 31, 32; - powers of, exhibited by a young child, 26, 66, 67; - by lower animals generally, 27-30 (_see_ also under Precepts); - of ideas, 34-39, 193; - conceptual, 78-80, 174; - of the animal kingdom by the early Jews and by Aristotle, 78, 79; - of language, 85-89; - of mental faculties artificial, 234; - of languages, 245-251 - - Clicks of Hottentots, 291 - - Clothes only worn by man, 19 - - Communication. _See_ Language - - Complex ideas. _See_ Ideas - - Compound ideas. _See_ Ideas - - Comte, Auguste, on the logic of feelings and of signs, 42, 46, 47 - - Conception. _See_ Concepts - - Concepts, defined, 34; - logic of, 47, and chap. iv.; - as named recepts, 74, 75; - as higher and lower, 76, 185; - in relation to particular and generic ideas, 76-78; - in relation to judgment and self-consciousness, 168-191; - Max Müller’s alleged, 221; - in relation to non-conceptual faculties, 234-237; - attainment of, by the individual, 230-232; - original, 269-281; - philological proof of derivation of, from recepts, 343-349 - - Concrete ideas. _See_ Ideas - - Connotation, 88, 89, 136, 137, 157, 159-162, 169, 170, 179-184, 218, - 219, 283, 284, 294 _et seq._, 368, 383, 384 - - Conscience. _See_ Morality - - Coptic language. _See_ Language - - Copula, the, 172, 173, 230, 309, 314, 387 - - Counting, by rooks, 56, 57, 214, 215; - by an ape, 58, 215; - by sensuous computation and by separate notation, 57, 215; - by savages, 215 - - Crawford on Malay language, 351 - - Cronise on the climate of California, 261 - - Crows, intelligence of, 56, 57 - - Cuvier on speech as the most distinctive characteristic of man, 371 - - - D - - Dammaras, counting by, 215 - - Darwin, Charles, on intelligence of savage man in relation to his - cerebral development, 16, 17; - on intelligence of animals, 51, 52, 54; - on pointing of sporting dogs, 97; - on expression of emotions, 103; - on psychogenesis of child, 123, 158; - on self-consciousness, 199; - on descent of man, 369, 370, 374-376, 380 - - Dayak language. _See_ Language - - Deaf-mutes, sign-making by, 105-120; - ideation of, 149, 150, 339-341; - invention of articulate signs by, 122, 263, 367 - - De Fravière on sign-making by bees, 90 - - Demonstrative elements. _See_ Pronouns - - Denomination, 88, 89, 161, 162, 168-170, 294, _et seq._ - - Denotation, 88, 89, 157, 158, 159, 162, 168, 179-184, 218, 219, 294 - _et seq._, 368-369, 383, 384, 386 - - De Quatrefages, on distinctions between animal and human intelligence, - 17-19; - on intelligence of a dog, 198; - on poverty of savage languages in abstract terms, 351 - - Dog, seeking water in hollows, 51; - making allowance for driftway, 52; - generic ideas shown by, 54, 352; - chasing imaginary pigs, 56; - idea of causation shown by, 59, 60; - pointing and backing of, 97, 98; - other gesture signs made by, 99, 100, 221; - understanding of written signs by, 101, 102; - understanding of words by, 124, 125; - alleged articulation by, 128; - Indian sign for barking, 146; - recognizing pictorial representations, 188; - practising concealment and hypocrisy, 198; - ejective ideation of, 198; - receptual self-consciousness of, 199; - counting by, 215; - begging before a bitch, 221; - deaf-mute’s articulate name of, 367 - - Donaldson on demonstrative elements, 244 - - _Dublin Review_ on psychology of judgment, 166, 167 - - Dumas, Alex., on sign-making, 111 - - Du Ponceau on language of savages, 349, 351 - - - E - - Ecitons. _See_ Ants - - Egyptian language. _See_ Language - - Elephant, intelligence of, 98 - - Ellis on early English pronunciation, 373 - - Emerson on fundamental metaphor, 344 - - Emotions of man and brutes compared, 7 - - Empty words, 246 - - _Encyclopædia Britannica_ (1857), on the origin of speech, 240 - - English language. _See_ Language - - Etruscan language. _See_ Language - - - F - - Farrar, Archdeacon, on demonstrative elements, 244; - on invention of languages by children, 263; - on roots of language, 268, 358; - on origin of the verb, 275; - on paucity of words in vocabulary of English labourers, 280; - on onomatopœia, 284-288, 290; - on objective phraseology of young children and early man, 301; - on the substantive verb, 309; - on fundamental metaphor, 344; - on language of savages in respect of abstraction, 350; - on absence of subjective personal pronouns in early forms of speech, - 421 - - Feejee language. _See_ Language - - Fire only made by man, 19 - - Fitzgerald, P. F., on self-consciousness, 212 - - Flight, capability of, in insects, reptiles, birds, and mammals, 156, - 157 - - Forbes, James, on intelligence of monkeys, 100 - - Fox, intelligence of, 55, 56 - - Frogs, understanding by, of tones of human voice, 124 - - - G - - Galton, Francis, on ideas as generic images, 23; - on relation of thought to speech, 83; - on intelligence of Dammaras, 215 - - Garnett, on nature and analysis of the verb, 275, 307, 309-312; - on sentence-words, 300; - on primitive forms of predication, 318; - on fundamental metaphor, 344, 358; - on absence of subjective cases of pronouns in early forms of speech, - 421 - - Geiger, on ideas, 45; - on dependence of thought upon language, 83; - on understanding of words by brutes, 127; - on roots of language, 268, 273, 336; - on distinction between ideas as general and generic, 279; - on increasing conceptuality of terms with increase of culture, 280; - on the impossibility of language having ever consisted exclusively - of general terms, 282; - on Heyse’s theory of the origin of speech, 289; - on onomatopœia, 292; - on the vanishing point of language, 314, 354; - on fundamental metaphor as illustrated by names of tools, 345, 346, - and words of moral significance, 346, 347; - on the sense of sight in relation to the origin of speech, 366, 367; - on _Homo alalus_, 380 - - General ideas. _See_ Ideas - - Generalization. _See_ Ideas - - Generic ideas. _See_ Recepts - - Genitive case, philology of, 305, 385 - - Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire, Isid., on a monkey recognizing pictorial - representations, 188 - - Geology, imperfect record of, 19 - - Gesture. _See_ Language - - Gibbon. _See_ Apes - - Goethe on obliteration of original meanings of words, 284 - - Goodbehere, S., on sign-making by a pony, 97 - - Gorilla. _See_ Apes - - Greek. _See_ Language - - Green, Professor, on self-consciousness, 212 - - Grimace. _See_ Language - - Grimm, on the origin of speech, 240; - on names for thunder, 286; - on fundamental metaphor, 344 - - - H - - Haeckel, Professor, on _Homo alalus_, 370, 380; - on sounds made by apes, 374 - - Hague on sign-making by ants, 93, 94 - - Hale, Dr. H., on spontaneous invention of words by children, 138-144; - on the origin of languages, 259-263 - - Hamilton, Sir William, on ideas as abstract and general, 24, 25, 79, - 80 - - Harper, F., on Greek tenses, 301 - - Haughton, Sir Graves, on roots of languages, 275 - - Hebrew. _See_ Language - - Hegel, on absence in brutes of the idea of causality, 58; - on self-consciousness, 212 - - Heinieke on words spontaneously invented by deaf-mutes, 367 - - Hen, different tones used by, as signs to chickens, &c., 96 - - Herder, on the origin of speech, 240; - on the original concretism of language, 359 - - Herzen on self-consciousness, 212 - - Heyse, on onomatopœia, 285, 287; - on the origin of speech, 289; - on fundamental metaphor, 344; - on poverty of savage languages in abstract terms, 351 - - Hobbes on the copula, 172, 173 - - Hogg on a dog understanding words, 125 - - Holden on the vocabularies of children, 372, 373 - - _Homo._ _See_ Man - - Horace on the origin of speech, 240 - - Horse, sign-making by, 97 - - Hoste, Sir W., on intelligence of monkeys, 101 - - Hottentots, language of, 291, 373, 374 - - Houzeau, on dogs seeking water in hollows, 51; - on tones used by the common hen as signs, 96; - on talking birds, 129, 130; - on danger signals of birds, 369 - - Hovelacque, on demonstrative elements, 244; - on auxiliary words, 247; - on formulæ of language-structure, 248; - on affinities of languages, 250, 255; - on limitations of consonantal sounds in various languages, 373 - - Huber on sign-making by insects, 88-90 - - Human. _See_ Man - - Humboldt on the origin of speech, 240 - - Hun, Dr. E. R., on spontaneous invention of words by young children, - 140-143 - - Hungarian language. _See_ Language - - Huxley, Professor, on importance of the evolution theory in relation - to anthropology, 2, 3; - on animal automatism, 11; - on the brain-weight of man as compared with that of anthropoid apes, - 16; - on ideas, 23, 43; - on importance of language to development of human thought, 134; - on smallness of anatomical difference which determines or prevents - power of articulation, 153, 370, 371; - on psychology of judgment, 164; - on erect attitude assumed by gibbon and gorilla, 381, 382 - - - I - - Icelandic language. _See_ Language - - Ideas, definition and classification of, 20-39; - as recepts, chap. iii.; - as concepts, chap. iv.; - as general and generic, 38, 39, 68, 69, 276-281, 336, 337; - as abstract, 20-39, 70-80; - of causation in brutes, 58-60, - and in man, 210; - of uneducated deaf-mutes, 149-151; - psychological classification of artificial, 234-237; - of savages, 337, 338, 349-353 - - Idiots, psychology of, 104, 105; - meaningless and imitative articulation by, 121; - ideation of, 152 - - Incorporating. _See_ Languages - - Indians, sign-making by, 105-113; - languages of, 249, 255, 259, 260 - - Indicative phase of language. _See_ Language - - Indicative signs, or stage of language. _See_ Language - - Indo-European languages. _See_ Languages - - Infant. _See_ Child - - Inflectional. _See_ Languages - - Instinct, defined, 7; - of man and brutes compared, 7, 8 - - Intellect of man and brutes compared, 9 - - Introspection. _See_ Self-consciousness - - Isolating. _See_ Languages - - - J - - Jackdaw, sign-making by, 97 - - James on language of savages, 349 - - Javanese language. _See_ Language - - Johnson, Capt., on intelligence of monkeys, 100, 101 - - Jones, Sir W., on the origin of speech, 240 - - Judgment, unconscious or intuitive, 48, 49, 189; - J. S. Mill upon, 48; - psychology of, 163-237; - G. H. Lewes upon, 164; - Professor Huxley upon, 164; - St. G. Mivart upon, 165, 166; - Professor Max Müller upon, 165; - in relation to recepts, concepts, and thought, 163-193; - Professor Sayce upon, 170; - pre-conceptual, 227-230, 278, 384, 386; - blank form of, 166, 167, 319, 320 - - - K - - Khetshua language. _See_ Language - - Kleinpaul on gesture language, 120 - - - L - - Landois on sign-making by bees, 90 - - Langley, S. P., on intelligence of a spider, 62, 63 - - Language, in relation to brain-weight, 16; - abstraction dependent on, 25, 30-39; - not always necessary to thought, 81-83; - etymology and different signification of the word, 85; - categories of, 85-89; - as sign-making exhibited by brutes, 88-102; - of tone and gesture, 104-120; - articulate, spontaneously imitated by children, 138-143; - of tone and gesture in relation to words, 145-162; - stages of, as indicative, denotative, connotative, denominative, and - predicative, 157-193; - in relation to self-consciousness, 212; - growth of, in child, 218-237; - theories concerning origin of, in race, 238-242, 361-384; - evolution of, 240-245, 264, 265; - roots of, 241-245, 248, 249; - differentiation of, into parts of speech, 294-320, 339-342; - demonstrative elements of, 243-245; - of savages deficient in abstract terms, 349-353; - nursery, 365, 366; - Chinese, 246, 253, 256, 257, 265, 266, 298, 300, 317, 338, 373; - Magyar, 253; - Turkish, 253; - Basque, 258, 260, 311; - Etruscan, 258; - Hungarian, 259; - Malay, 259, 301, 305, 311, 351; - Latin, 267; - Egyptian, 297, 298, 310, 311; - English, 247, 259, 266, 338, 348, 373; - Khetshua, 263; - Hebrew, 266, 309; - Greek, 301, 310, 320; - Taic, 305; - Sanskrit, 266-277, 301, 309, 354; - Zend, 309; - Lithuanic, 309; - Icelandic, 309; - Coptic, 310; - Javanese, 311; - Malagassy, 311; - Philippine, 311; - Syriac, 311; - Dayak, 317; - Feejee, 318; - Cheyenne, 348; - Australian, 351; - Eskimo, 351; - Zulu, 351; - Tasmanian, 352; - Kurd, 352; - Japanese, 373; - Hottentot, 373, 374 - - Languages, number of, 245; - classification of, 245-251; - isolating, radical, or monosyllabic, 245, 246, 267, 268; - agglutinative or agglomerative, 247; - inflective or transpositive, 247, 248; - polysynthetic or incapsulating, 249; - incorporating, 245-250; - analytic, 250; - affinities of, 250-259; - native American, 249, 255, 259-263, 265, 311, 342, 348, 349, 351; - African, 260, 263, 291, 337, 338, 351, 373, 374; - Aryan and Indo-European, 266-278, 298, 304, 309, 314, 423; - Semitic, 266, 311; - Romance, 308; - Polynesian, 318 - - Latham, Dr., on the growth of language, 241; - on language of savages in respect of abstraction, 351, 352 - - Latin, roots of, 267. - _See_ also Language - - Laura Bridgman, her syntax, 116; - her instinctive articulate sounds, 122 - - Lazarus, on ideas, 44, 45; - on origin of speech, 361 - - Lee, Mrs., on talking birds, 130 - - Lefroy, Sir John, on intelligence of a dog, 99 - - Leibnitz on teaching a dog to articulate, 128 - - Leroy on intelligence of wolf, 53; - of stag, 54, 55; - of fox, 55, 56; - of rooks, 56, 57 - - Lewes, G. H., on the logic of feelings and of signs, 47; - on judgment, 164; - on pre-perception, 185 - - Links between ape and man missing, 19 - - Lithuanic language. _See_ Language - - Locke on ideas, 20-23, 28-30, 65, 342 - - Logic, of recepts, chap. iii.; - of concepts, 47, and chap. iv. - - Long on gesture-language, 120 - - Lubbock, Sir John, on communication by ants, 94, 95; - on teaching a dog written signs, 101, 102 - - Lucretius on the origin of speech, 240 - - Ludwig on demonstrative elements, 244 - - - M - - Magyar language. _See_ Language - - Malagassy language. _See_ Language - - Malay language. _See_ Language - - Malle, Dureau de la, on intelligence of brutes, 12 - - Mallery, Lieut.-Col., on sign-making by Indians and deaf-mutes, &c., - 105-112, 117-120; - on teaching a dog to articulate, 128; - on sign for a barking dog, 146; - on genetic relation between gestures and words, 342, 348, 349 - - Man, antecedent remarks on psychology of, 4-6; - points of resemblance between his psychology and that of brutes, - 6-10; - points of difference, 10-39; - intelligence of savage, 13, 16, 17, 215, 337, 338, 349-353, - and of palæolithic and neolithic, 14, 213, 214; - corporeal structure of, 19; - animism of savage and primitive, 275; - speechless, 277; - differences between infantile, and infantile child as regards - development of speech, 329-334; - use of personal pronoun by early, 300, 301, 387-389; - hypotheses as to mode of origin of, from brute, 361-389; - superior use by, of the sense of sight, 366, 367; - possibly speechless condition of early, 370-379 - - Mansel, Dean, on ideas as general and abstract, 42 - - Maudsley, Dr., on self-consciousness, 212 - - Maury on poverty of savage languages in abstract terms, 351 - - M’Cook, Rev. Dr., on sign-making by ants, 95 - - Metaphor, importance of, in evolution of speech, 343-349 - - Meunier, on the understanding of words by brutes, 125; - on talking birds, 130 - - Midas, a, recognizing pictorial representations, 188 - - Mill, James, on the copula, 173 - - Mill, John Stuart, on ideas as abstract and concrete, 25; - on the logic of feelings and of signs, 41, 42; - on judgment, 48; - on connotation and denomination, 169; - on conception, 172; - on the copula, 173; - on predication, 236 - - Milligan on poverty of savage languages in abstract terms, 352 - - Mind, undergoes evolution, 4-6; - of man and brute compared, 7-39; - classification of faculties of artificial, 234 - - Missing links, 19 - - Mivart, St. George, on psychology of brutes, 10, 177; - on animal automatism, 11; - on superiority of savage mind to simian, 16; - on absence in brutes of the idea of causality, 58; - on relation of thought to speech, 83; - on categories of language, 85, 86; - on rationality of brutes, 87; - on psychology of judgment, 165-167; - on thought and reflection, 177, 178 - - Mixed ideas. _See_ Ideas - - Moffat, R., on invention of languages by children, 263 - - Monboddo on the origin of speech, 240 - - Monkeys, general intelligence of, 60, 61, 100, 101; - discovering mechanical principles, 60, 61, 213, 214; - more intelligent and imitative than parrots, 153; - recognizing pictorial representations, 188; - understanding words, 369; - using stones to open oysters, 382 - - Monosyllabic. _See_ Languages - - Morality, alleged to distinguish man from brute, 17-19, 346; - terms relating to, derived from ideas morally indifferent, 346, 347 - - Morshead, E. J., on comparative psychology, 37 - - Moschkan, Dr. A., on talking birds, 130 - - Müller, F., on sign-making by bees, 90 - - Müller, J., on absence in brutes of the idea of causality, 58 - - Müller, Professor Friedrich, on ideas, 45; - on language, as not identical with thought, 83; - on classification of languages, 245; - on sentence-words, 296; - on undifferentiated language of child, 297; - on origin of pronouns, 302; - on the genitive case, 305; - on the origin of speech, 362 - - Müller, Professor F. Max, on ideas, 42, 43; - on language as necessary to thought, 81, 83; - on psychology of judgment, 165; - on the copula, 173; - on origin of the personal pronoun, 210; - on evolution of language, 241; - on demonstrative elements, 244, 423; - on roots of Sanskrit, 267-289; - on undifferentiated language of young children, 296, 317; - on sentence-words, 298-300, 317; - on gesture origin of pronouns, 302, - and of language in general, 354; - on origin of adjectives, 306; - on the origin of verbs, 307; - on Chinese sentence-words, 317; - on Aristotle’s logic as based on Greek grammar, 320, 321; - on philology proving that human thought has proceeded from the - abstract to the concrete, 334-336; - on names necessarily implying concepts, 336, 337; - on fundamental metaphor, 344, 345; - on imperfection of early names, 356; - on the evolution of parts of speech, 423; - on the general theory of evolution, 432, 433 - - - N - - Names, in relation to abstract and generic ideas, 31, 32, 57, 58, - 70-78, 174, 273-281, 336-339; - not always necessary for thoughts, 81-83; - or thoughts for them, 226, 336-339 - - Natterer, J., on the languages of Brazil, 263 - - Negro, intelligence of, 13; - Mr. Mivart’s use of the term to illustrate the psychology of - predication, 166, 235 - - Neuter insects, instincts of, 297-299 - - Nodier, on onomatopœia, 288; - on metaphor, 344 - - Noiré, on ideas, 43; - on the origin of speech, 288, 289, 379-381; - on the origin of pronouns, 302; - on fundamental metaphor, 344, 345 - - Nominalism, 145 - - Noun-substantives, appropriately used by parrots, 129, 152; - early use of, by children, 218; - of earlier linguistic growth than verbs or pronouns, 275; - not differentiated in early forms of speech, 295 _et seq._; - oblique cases of, as attribute-words, 306, 385 - - - O - - Onomatopœia, in nursery-language, 136, 244; - in relation to the origin of speech, 282-293, 339 - - Orang-outang. _See_ Apes - - Oregon, climate and native languages of, 262 - - - P - - Palæontology. _See_ Geology - - Parrots, talking of, 128-138; - use of indicative signs by, 158; - denotative and connotative powers of, 179-191, 222-226; - statements made by, 189, 190 - - Particular ideas. _See_ Ideas - - Parts of speech, differentiation of language into, 294-320, 339-342, - 423 - - Peckham, Mr. and Mrs., on memory in a spider, 207 - - Perception, analogies between reason and, 32; - constituted by fusions of sensations, 37; - in relation to other mental faculties, 48; - illusions of, 49 - - Perez on psychogenesis of the child, 26, 41, 158, 210 - - Philippine language. _See_ Language - - Philology. _See_ Language - - Pickering on poverty of savage languages in abstract terms, 352 - - Pictures recognized as portraits, &c., by infants, dogs, and monkeys, - 188, 189 - - Pig taught to point game, 97 - - Poescher on the Aryan race, 273 - - Pointing, game by a pig, 97; - of setter-dogs, 97, 98; - as the first stage of language, 157, 158 - - Polynesian languages. _See_ Languages - - Polysynthetic. _See_ Languages - - Pony, sign-making by, 97 - - Pott, on the origin of speech, 240; - on language-roots, 267; - on names for thunder, 286; - on fundamental metaphor, 344 - - Powers on the climate of California, 261 - - Pre-concepts, 185-193, 218, 219, 227-230, 278, 384, 386 - - Predicate, the, 305, 306, 423 - - Predication, 88, 89, 157, 162-164, 169, 171, 175, 227, 235-237, 294 - _et seq._, 384, 386, 387, 422 - - Prepositions not differentiated in early forms of speech, 295 - _et seq._ - - Preyer, on psychogenesis of the child, 26, 219, 221, 222; - on sensuous computation of number, 57, 58 - - Primates. _See_ Apes _and_ Monkeys - - Pritchard on Celtic languages, 275 - - Progress in successive generations, 12-15 - - Pronoun, first personal, 201, 232, 301, 387-389, 408, 409 - - Pronouns and pronominal elements, 210, 275; - not differentiated in early forms of speech, 295 _et seq._; - origin of, in gestures, 301-304, 387, 421, 422 - - Proposition. _See_ Predication - - Psychogenesis. _See_ Child - - Psychology. _See_ Mind - - - Q - - Quadrumana. _See_ Apes _and_ Monkeys - - - R - - Radical. _See_ Languages - - Ray on different tones used by the common hen, 96 - - Reason in relation to perception, 32; - to sensation, 37; - and to other mental faculties in general, 48 - - Recepts, defined, 36-39; - logic of, 40-69; - recognized by previous writers, 40-45; - in relation to the intellectual faculties, 48-50, 234; - examples of, in the animal kingdom, 51-63; - as primitive as percepts, 64-69; - of water-fowl, 74; - in relation to judgment and self-consciousness, 176-193; - as higher and lower, 184-193; - counting by, 214, 215; - naming by, 218, 219; - of the framers of Sanskrit, 277-279; - philologically prior to concepts, 343-349 - - Reflection in relation to reflex action, 48. - _See also_ Thought - - Reflex action, 48 - - Religion alleged to distinguish man from brute, 17, 19, 346 - - Renan on roots of Hebrew, 266 - - Rengger on different tones uttered by the cebus, 96 - - Reptiles, understanding by, of tones of human voice, 124 - - Ribot, Professor, on self-consciousness, 212 - - Richter on obliteration of the original meanings of words, 284 - - Romance languages. _See_ Languages - - Romanes, on teaching an ape to count, 58; - on intelligence of cebus, 60, 61; - on sign-making by caterpillars, 95, 96; - on pointing of setter-dogs, 97, 98; - on sign-making by other dogs, 100, 221; - on infant intelligence, 122, 159, 160, 188, 189, 218-220, 232, 283, - 324; - on dogs and apes understanding words, 124-126; - on talking birds, 129, 130; - on ideation of deaf-mutes, 149, 150 - - Rooks, intelligence of, 56, 57 - - Roots of language. _See_ Language - - - S - - Sandwith on poverty of savage languages in abstract terms, 352 - - Sanskrit. _See_ Language - - Sayce, Professor, on differences of degree and kind, 3; - on terms as abbreviated judgments, 170; - on the number of languages, 245; - on the affinities between languages, 250-259; - on monosyllabic origin of language, 268; - on civilization of the Aryan race, 272; - on antiquity of the Aryan race, 273; - on rarity of general terms in savage languages, 280; - on onomatopœia, 286; - on the clicks in the language of Hottentots, etc., 291, 373, 374; - on sentence-words, 299, 300, 303; - on the origin of pronouns, 302; - on the genitive case, the predicate, and the attribute, 305, 306, - 313, 423; - on the evolution of nouns, adjectives, and verbs, 308; - on Aristotle’s logic as based on Greek grammar, 321; - on deficiency of savage languages in abstract terms, 352; - on Noiré’s theory of the origin of speech, 380 - - Schelling on parts of speech, 295, 296 - - Schlegel on the origin of speech, 240 - - Schleicher, on evolution of language, 241; - on formulæ of language-structure, 248 - - Scott, Dr., on psychology of idiots and deaf-mutes, 104, 105, 115, - 116, 121 - - Scott, Sir Walter, on a dog understanding words, 125 - - Self-consciousness, condition to introspective reflection or thought, - 175; - absent in brutes, 175, 176; - genesis of, 194-212; - philosophy and psychology of, 194, 195; - character of, in man and in brutes, 195-212; - as inward and outward, or receptual and conceptual, 199, 200; - growth of, in child, 200-212, 228, 229-234 - - Semitic. _See_ Languages - - Sensation in relation to perception and reason, 37; - and to other mental faculties in general, 48 - - Sentence and sentence-words, 296 _et seq._ - - Sicard, Abbé, on syntax of gesture-language, 116 - - Sight, superior use of sense of, by man, 366, 367 - - Signs and sign-making. _See_ Language - - Simple ideas. _See_ Ideas - - Skeat, Professor, on Aryan roots of English, 266 - - Skinner, Major, on intelligence of elephants, 98 - - Smith, Rev. S., on ideation of deaf-mutes, 150 - - Snakes, understanding by, of tones of human voice, 124 - - Solomon, quoted, 195 - - Somnambulism in animals, 149 - - Speech. _See_ Language - - Spider, intelligence of, 62, 63, 153, 207 - - Steinthal, on ideas, 45; - first issue of his _Zeitschrift_, 240; - on roots of language, 277; - on onomatopœia, 286; - on primitive forms of predication, 318 - - Stephen, Leslie, on intelligence of the dog, 54 - - Stephen, Sir James, on dependence of thought upon language, 85 - - Street, A. E., on vocabulary of a young child, 143, 144 - - Substantive. _See_ Noun _and_ Verb - - Sullivan, Sir J., on talking birds, 130 - - Sully, J., on ideas, 40, 41; - on illusions of perception, 49; - on rise of self-consciousness in the growing child, 201-203, 207, - 210, 212 - - Sweet, on animistic thought of primitive man, 275; - on the evolution of grammatical forms, 306, 315, 316 - - Syntax, of gesture-language, 107-120; - of different spoken languages, 246, 247; - of gesture-language in relation to that of early speech, 339-342, - 385 - - Syriac language. _See_ Language - - - T - - Taine, on psychogenesis of the child, 26, 66, 67, 180, 181; - on abstract ideas, 31, 32; - on self-consciousness, 212 - - Thought, distinguished from reason, 12; - absent in brutes, 29, 30; - dependent on language, 30, 31; - simplest element of, 165, 174, 215, 216; - animistic, of primitive and savage man, 275; - not necessary to naming, 226, 336-339 - - Toads, understanding by, of tones of human voice, 124 - - Tone. _See_ Language - - Tools, said to be only used by man, 19; - names of, derived from activities requiring only natural organs, - 345-347; - used by monkeys, 382 - - Threlkeld on language of savages, 349 - - Transposition. _See_ Languages - - Tschudi, Baron von, on the Khetshua language, 262, 263 - - Turkish language. _See_ Language - - Tylor, on sign-making by Indians and deaf-mutes, 105-108, 113-117; - on articulate sounds instinctively made by deaf-mutes, 122; - on ideation of deaf-mutes, 150 - - - V - - Varro on roots of Latin, 267 - - Verbs, appropriately used by parrots, 130, 152; - substantive, 167, 308-312; - early use of, by children, 219; - early origin of, 274; - not differentiated in early forms of speech, 295 _et seq._; - development of, 275, 307, 308, 385, 386 - - Voice. _See_ Language - - Volition of man and brutes compared, 8 - - - W - - Waitz, Professor, on self-consciousness, 212; - on the sentence as the unit of language, 296 - - Wallace, A. R., on intelligence of savage man in relation to his - cerebral development, 15, 16 - - Ward on the descent of man, 365 - - Wasps, sign-making by, 88-90 - - Watson on understanding of words by brutes, 125 - - Wedgwood, on roots of language, 268; - on onomatopœia, 288 - - Westropp, H. M., on intelligence of a bear, 51 - - Whitney, Professor, on dependence of thought upon words, 83; - on superiority of voice to gesture in sign-making, 147, 148; - on our ignorance of polysynthetic languages, 255, 256; - on monosyllabic origin of language, 267; - on civilization of the Aryan race, 272; - on the growth of language, 290; - on priority of words to sentences, 333, 334; - on fundamental metaphor, 343; - on the possibly speechless condition of primitive man, 369 - - Wildman on bees understanding tones of human voice, 124 - - Wilkes, Dr. S., on talking birds, 131, 132, 136 - - Will. _See_ Volition - - Wolf, intelligence of, 53 - - Wright, Chauncey, on language in relation to brain-weight, 16; - on self-consciousness, 199, 206, 207, 212 - - Wundt, Professor, on latent period in seeing and hearing, 146; - on self-consciousness, 197, 200, 201, 208, 211, 212; - on evolution of language, 265; - on the distinction between ideas as general and generic, 279, 280; - on onomatopœia, 287, 291; - on objective phraseology of primitive speech, 301; - on sentence-words, 304 - - - Y - - Youatt on a pig being taught to point game, 97 - - - Z - - Zend language. _See_ Language - - Zoological affinity between man and brute, 19 - - - - - FOOTNOTES: - -[1] _Man’s Place in Nature_, p. 59. - -[2] It is perhaps desirable to explain from the first that by the words -“difference of kind,” as used in the above paragraph and elsewhere -throughout this treatise, I mean difference of _origin_. This is the -only real distinction that can be drawn between the terms “difference -of kind” and “difference of degree;” and I should scarcely have deemed -it worth while to give the definition, had it not been for the confused -manner in which the terms are used by some writers—_e.g._ Professor -Sayce, who says, while speaking of the development of languages from -a common source, “differences of degree become in time differences of -kind” (_Introduction to the Science of Language_, ii. 309). - -[3] See _Mental Evolution in Animals_, chapter on the Emotions. - -[4] _Mental Evolution in Animals_, p. 159. “The term is a generic -one, comprising all the faculties of mind which are concerned in -conscious and adaptive action, antecedent to individual experience, -without necessary knowledge of the relation between means employed and -ends attained, but similarly performed under similar and frequently -recurring circumstances by all individuals of the same species.” - -[5] Of course my opponents will not allow that this word can be -properly applied to the psychology of any brute. But I am not now -using it in a question-begging sense: I am using it only to avoid the -otherwise necessary expedient of coining a new term. Whatever view we -may take as to the relations between human and animal psychology, we -must in some way distinguish between the different ingredients of each, -and so between the instinct, the emotion, and the intelligence of an -animal. See _Mental Evolution in Animals_, p. 335, et seq. - -[6] If any one should be disposed to do so, I can only reply to him -in the words of Professor Huxley, who puts the case tersely and -well:—“What is the value of the evidence which leads one to believe -that one’s fellow-man feels? The only evidence in this argument from -analogy is the similarity of his structure and of his actions to -one’s own, and if that is good enough to prove that one’s fellow-man -feels, surely it is good enough to prove that an ape feels,” etc. -(_Critiques and Addresses_, p. 282). To this statement of the case -Mr. Mivart offers, indeed, a criticism, but it is one of a singularly -feeble character. He says, “Surely it is not by similarity of structure -or actions, but by _language_ that men are placed in communication -with one another.” To this it seems sufficient to ask, in the first -place, whether language is not action; and, in the next, whether, as -expressive of _suffering_, articulate speech is regarded by us as more -“eloquent” than inarticulate cries and gestures? - -[7] Of course where the term Reason is intended to signify -Introspective Thought, the above remarks do not apply, further than to -indicate the misuse of the term. - -[8] I here neglect to consider the view of Bishop Butler, and others -who have followed him, that animals may have an immortal principle as -well as man; for, if this view is maintained, it serves to identify, -not to separate, human and brute psychology. The dictum of Aristotle -and Buffon, that animals differ from man in having no power of -mental apprehension, may also be disregarded; for it appears to be -sufficiently disposed of by the following remark of Dureau de la Malle, -which I here quote as presenting some historical interest in relation -to the theory of natural selection. He says: “Si les animaux n’étaient -pas suscéptibles d’apprendre les moyens de se conserver, les espèces se -seraient anéanties.” - -[9] John Fiske, _Excursions of an Evolutionist_, pp. 42, 43 (1884). - -[10] _Natural Selection_, p. 343. It will subsequently appear, as a -general consequence of our investigation of savage psychology, that of -these two opposite opinions the one advocated by Mr. Mivart is best -supported by facts. But I may here adduce one or two considerations of -a more special nature bearing upon this point. First, as to cerebral -_structure_, the case is thus summed up by Professor Huxley:—“The -difference in weight of brain between the highest and the lowest man -is far greater, both relatively and absolutely, than that between -the lowest man and the highest ape. The latter, as has been seen, is -represented by, say 12 ounces of cerebral substance absolutely, or by -32:20 relatively; but, as the largest recorded human brain weighed -between 65 and 66 ounces, the former difference is represented by -more than 33 ounces absolutely, or by 65:32 relatively. Regarded -systematically, the cerebral differences of man and apes are not of -more than generic value—his family distinction resting chiefly on his -dentition, his pelves, and his lower limbs” (_Man’s Place in Nature_, -p. 103). Next, concerning cerebral _function_, Mr. Chauncey Wright well -remarks:—“A psychological analysis of the faculty of language shows -that even the smallest proficiency in it might require more brain power -than the greatest proficiency in any other direction” (_North American -Review_, Oct. 1870, p. 295). After quoting this, Mr. Darwin observes of -savage man, “He has invented and is able to use various weapons, tools, -traps, &c., with which he defends himself, kills or catches prey, -and otherwise obtains food. He has made rafts or canoes for fishing, -or crossing over to neighbouring fertile islands. He has discovered -the art of making fire.... These several inventions, by which man in -the rudest state has become so preeminent, are the direct results -of the development of his powers of observation, memory, curiosity, -imagination, and reason. I cannot, therefore, understand how it is that -Mr. Wallace maintains that ‘natural selection could only have endowed -the savage with a brain a little superior to that of an ape’” (_Descent -of Man_, pp. 48, 49). - -[11] _The Human Species_, English trans., p. 22. - -[12] Sundry other and still more special distinctions of a -psychological kind have been alleged by various writers as obtaining -between man and the lower animals—such as making fire, employing -barter, wearing clothes, using tools, and so forth. But as all -these distinctions are merely particular instances, or detailed -illustrations, of the more intelligent order of ideation which belongs -to mankind, it is needless to occupy space with their discussion. -Here, also, I may remark that in this work I am not concerned with -the popular objection to Darwinism on account of “missing-links,” or -the absence of fossil remains structurally intermediate between those -of man and the anthropoid apes. This is a subject that belongs to -palæontology, and, therefore, its treatment would be out of place in -these pages. Nevertheless, I may here briefly remark that the supposed -difficulty is not one of any magnitude. Although to the popular -mind it seems almost self-evident that if there ever existed a long -series of generations connecting the bodily structure of man with -that of the higher apes, at least some few of their bones ought now -to be forthcoming; the geologist too well knows how little reliance -can be placed on such merely negative testimony where the record of -geology is in question. Countless other instances may now be quoted of -connecting links having been but recently found between animal groups -which are zoologically much more widely separated than are apes and -men. Indeed, so destitute of force is this popular objection held to -be by geologists, that it is not regarded by them as amounting to any -objection at all. On the other hand, the close anatomical resemblance -that subsists between man and the higher apes—every bone, muscle, -nerve, vessel, etc., in the enormously complex structure of the one -coinciding, each to each, with the no less enormously complex structure -of the other—speaks so voluminously in favour of an uninterrupted -continuity of descent, that, as before remarked, no one who is at -all entitled to speak upon the subject has ventured to dispute this -continuity so far as the corporeal structure is concerned. All the -few naturalists who still withhold their assent from the theory of -evolution in its reference to man, expressly base their opinion on -those grounds of psychology which it is the object of the present -treatise to investigate. - -[13] In my previous work I devoted a chapter to “Imagination,” in -which I treated of the psychology of ideation so far as animals are -concerned. It is now needful to consider ideation with reference to -man; and, in order to do this, it is further needful to revert in -some measure to the ideation of animals. I will, however, try as far -as possible to avoid repeating myself, and therefore in the three -following chapters I will assume that the reader is already acquainted -with my previous work. Indeed, the argument running through the three -following chapters cannot be fully appreciated unless their perusal -is preceded by that of chapters ix. and x. of _Mental Evolution in -Animals_. - -[14] _Human Understanding_, bk. ii., chap. ii., 10, 11. To this passage -Berkeley objected that it is impossible to form an abstract idea of -quality as apart from any concrete idea of object; _e.g._ an idea of -motion distinct from that of any body moving. (See _Principles of -Human Knowledge_, Introd. vii.-xix.). This is a point which I cannot -fully treat without going into the philosophy of the great discussion -on Nominalism, Realism, and Conceptualism—a matter which would take -me beyond the strictly psychological limits within which I desire -to confine my work. It will, therefore, be enough to point out that -Berkeley’s criticism here merely amounts to showing that Locke did not -pursue sufficiently far his philosophy of Nominalism. What Locke did -was to see, and to state, that a general or abstract idea embodies a -perception of likeness between individuals of a kind while disregarding -the differences; what he failed to do was to take the further step of -showing that such an idea is not an idea in the sense of being a mental -image; it is merely an intellectual symbol of an actually impossible -existence, namely, of quality apart from object. Intellectual symbolism -of this kind is performed mainly through the agency of verbal or other -conventional signs (as we shall see later on), and it is owing to -a clearer understanding of this process that Realism was gradually -vanquished by Nominalism. The only difference, then, between Locke -and Berkeley here is, that the nominalism of the former was not so -complete or thorough as that of the latter. I may remark that if in the -following discussion I appear to fail in distinctly setting forth the -doctrine of nominalism, I do so only in order that my investigation -may avoid needless collision with conceptualism. For myself I am a -nominalist, and agree with Mill that to say we think in concepts is -only another way of saying that we think in class names. - -[15] This simile has been previously used by Mr. Galton himself, and -also by Mr. Huxley in his work on Hume. - -[16] Hence, the only valid distinction that can be drawn between -abstraction and generalization is that which has been drawn by -Hamilton, as follows: “Abstraction consists in concentration of -attention upon a particular object, or particular quality of an object, -and diversion of it from everything else. The notion of the _figure_ -of the desk before me is an abstract idea—an idea that makes part of -the total notion of that body, and on which I have concentrated my -attention, in order to consider it exclusively. This idea is abstract, -but it is at the same time individual: it represents the figure of this -particular desk, and not the figure of any other body.” Generalization, -on the other hand, consists in an ideal compounding of abstractions, -“when, comparing a number of objects, we seize on their resemblances; -when we concentrate our attention on these points of similarity.... The -general notion is thus one which makes us know a quality, property, -power, notion, relation, in short, any point of view under which we -recognize a plurality of objects as a unity.” Thus, there may be -abstraction without generalization; but inasmuch as abstraction has -then to do only with particulars, this phase of it is disregarded -by most writers on psychology, who therefore employ abstraction -and generalization as convertible terms. Mill says, “By _abstract_ -I shall always, in Logic proper, mean the opposite of _concrete_; -by an abstract name the name of an attribute; by a concrete name, -the name of an object” (_Logic_, i. § 4). Such limitation, however, -is arbitrary—it being the same kind of mental act to “concentrate -attention upon a particular _object_,” as it is to do so upon any -“particular _quality_ of an object.” Of course in this usage Mill is -following the schoolmen, and he expressly objects to the change first -introduced (apparently) by Locke, and since generally adopted. But it -is of little consequence in which of the two senses now explained a -writer chooses to employ the word “abstract,” provided he is consistent -in his own usage. - -[17] The age here mentioned closely corresponds with that which is -given by M. Perez, who says:—“At seven months he compares better -than at three; and he appears at this age to have visual perceptions -associated with ideas of _kind_: for instance, he connects the -different flavours of a piece of bread, of a cake, of fruit, with their -different forms and colours” (_First Three Years of Childhood_, English -trans., p. 31). - -[18] _Die Seele des Kindes_, s. 87. - -[19] Taine, _Intelligence_, p. 18. - -[20] _Human Understanding_, bk. ii., ch. ii., §§ 5-7. - -[21] If required, proof of this fact is to be found in abundance in the -chapter on “Imagination,” _Mental Evolution in Animals_, pp. 142-158. -It is there shown that imagination in animals is not dependent only on -associations aroused by sensuous impressions from without, but reaches -the level of carrying on a train of mental imagery _per se_. - -[22] _Loc. cit._, pp. 397-399. Allusion may also be here conveniently -made to an interesting and suggestive work by another French writer, -M. Binet (_La Psychologie du Raisonnement_, 1886). His object is to -show that all processes of reasoning are fundamentally identical with -those of perception. In order to do this he gives a detailed exposition -of the general fact that processes of both kinds depend on “fusions” -of states of consciousness. In the case of perception the elements -thus fused are sensations, while in the case of reasoning they are -perceptions—in both cases the principle of association being alike -concerned. - -[23] _Mental Evolution in Animals_, p. 118. - -[24] In this connection I may quote the following very lucid statements -from a paper by the Secretary of the Victoria Institute, which is -directed against the general doctrine that I am endeavouring to -advance, _i.e._ that there is no distinction of kind between brute and -human psychology. - -“Abstraction and generalization only become intellectual when they are -utilized by the intellect. A bull is irritated by a red colour, and not -by the object of which redness is a property; but it would be absurd to -say that the bull voluntarily abstracts the phenomenon of redness from -these objects. The process is essentially one of abstraction, and yet -at the same time it is essentially automatic.” And with reference to -the ideation of brutes in general, he continues:—“Certain qualities -of an object engage his attention to the exclusion of other qualities, -which are disregarded; and thus he abstracts automatically. The image -of an object having been imprinted on his memory, the feelings which -it excited are also imprinted on his memory, and on the reproduction -of the image these feelings and the actions resulting therefrom are -reproduced, likewise automatically: thus he acts from experience, -automatically still. The image may be the image of the same object, or -the image of another object of the same species, but the effect is the -same, and thus he generalizes, automatically also.” Lastly, speaking of -inference, he says:—“This method is common to man and brute, and, like -the faculties of abstraction, &c., it only becomes intellectual when -we choose to make it so.” (E. J. Morshead, in an essay on _Comparative -Psychology_, _Journ. Vic. Inst._, vol. v., pp. 303, 304, 1870.) In -the work of M. Binet already alluded to, the distinction in question -is also recognized. For he says that the “fusion” of sensations which -takes place in an act of perception is performed automatically (_i.e._ -is receptual); while the “fusion” of perceptions which are concerned in -an act of reason is performed intentionally (_i.e._ is conceptual). - -[25] The more elaborate analysis of German psychologists has yielded -five orders instead of three; namely, _Wahrnehmung_, _Anschauung_, -_Vorstellungen_, _Erfahrungsbegriff_, and _Verstandesbegriff_. But for -the purposes of this treatise it is needless to go into these finer -distinctions. - -[26] _Outlines of Psychology_, p. 342. The italics are mine. It will -be observed that Mr. Sully here uses the term “generic” in exactly the -sense which I propose. - -[27] _First Three Years of Childhood_, English trans., pp. 180-182. - -[28] _Examination of Hamilton’s Philosophy_, p. 403. - -[29] To this, Max Müller objects on account of its veiled -conceptualism—seeing that it represents the “notion” as -chronologically prior to the “name” (_Science of Thought_, p. 268). -With this criticism, however, I am not concerned. Whether “the many -pictures” which the mind thus forms, and blends together into what -Locke terms a “compound idea,” deserve, when so blended, to be called -“a general notion” or a “concept”—this is a question of terminology -of which I steer clear, by assigning to such compound ideas the term -recepts, and reserving the term notions, or concepts, for compound -ideas _after they have been named_. - -[30] _Logos_, p. 175, quoted by Max Müller, who adds:—“The followers -of Hume might possibly look upon the faded images of our memory as -abstract ideas. Our memory, or, what is often equally important, our -oblivescence, seems to them able to do what abstraction, as Berkeley -shows, never can do; and under its silent sway many an idea, or cluster -of ideas, might seem to melt away till nothing is left but a mere -shadow. These shadows, however, though they may become very vague, -remain percepts; they are not concepts” (_Science of Thought_, p. -453). Now, I say it is equally evident that these shadows are _not_ -percepts: they are the result of the _fusion_ of percepts, no one of -which corresponds to their generic sum. Seeing, then, that they are -neither percepts nor concepts, and yet such highly important elements -in ideation, I coin for them the distinctive name of recepts. - -[31] _Life of Hume_, p. 96. - -[32] Steinthal and Lazarus, however, in dealing with the problem -touching the origin of speech, present in an adumbrated fashion this -doctrine of receptual ideation with special reference to animals. For -instance, Lazarus says, “Es gibt in der gewöhnlichen Erfahrung kein -so einfaches Ding von einfacher Beschaffenheit, dass wir es durch -_eine_ Sinnesempfindung wahrnehmen könnten; erst aus der Sammlung -seiner Eigenschaften, d. h. erst aus der _Verbindung_ der mehreren -Empfindungen ergibt sich _die Wahrnehmung eines Dinges_: erst indem -wir die weisse Farbe sehen, die Härte fühlen und den süssen Geschmack -empfinden, erkennen wir ein Stück Zucker” (_Das Leben der Seele_ -(1857), 8, ii. 66). This and other passages in the same work follow -the teaching of Steinthal; _e.g._ “Die Anschauung von einem Dinge -ist der Complex der sämmtlichen Empfindungserkenntnisse, die wir -von einem Dinge haben ... die Anschauung ist eine Synthesis, aber -eine unmittelbare, die durch die Einheit der Seele gegeben ist.” -And, following both these writers, Friedrich Müller says, “Diese -Sammlung und Einigung der verschiedenen Empfindungen gemäss der in -den Dingen verbundenen Eigenschaften heisst Anschauung” (_Grundriss -der Sprachwissenschaft_, i. 26). On the other hand, their brother -philologist, Geiger, strongly objects to this use of the term -_Anschauung_, under which, he says, “wird theils etwas von der -Sinneswahrnehmung gar nicht Unterschiedenes verstanden, theils auch -ein dunkles Etwas, welches, ohne dass die Bedingungen und Ursachen zu -erkennen sind, die Einheit der Wahrnehmungen zu kleineren und grössern -Complexen bewirken soll.... So dass ich eine solche ‘Synthesis’ nicht -auch bei dem Thiere ganz ebenso wie bei dem Menschen voraussetze: ich -glaube im Gegentheile, dass es sich mit der Sprache erst entwickelt” -(_Ursprung der Sprache_, 177, 178). Now, I have quoted these various -passages because they serve to render, in a brief and instructive -form, the different views which may be taken on a comparatively simple -matter owing to the want of well-defined terms. No doubt the use of -the term _Anschauung_ by the above writers is unfortunate; but by it -they appear to me clearly to indicate a nascent idea of what I mean by -a recept. They all three fail to bring out this idea in its fulness, -inasmuch as they restrict the powers of non-conceptual “synthesis” to -a grouping of simple perceptions furnished by different sense-organs, -instead of extending it to a synthesis of syntheses of perceptions, -whether furnished by the same or also by different senses. But these -three philologists are all on the right psychological track, and their -critic Geiger is quite wrong in saying that there can be no synthesis -of (non-conceptual) ideas without the aid of speech. As a matter of -fact the _dunkles Etwas_ which he complains of his predecessors as -importing into the ideation of animals, is an _Etwas_ which, when -brought out into clearer light, is fraught with the highest importance. -For, as we shall subsequently see, it is nothing less than the -needful psychological condition to the subsequent development both of -speech and thought. The term _Apperception_ as used by some German -psychologists is also inclusive of what I mean by receptual ideation. -But as it is also inclusive of conceptual, nothing would here be gained -by its adoption. Indeed F. Müller expressly restricts its meaning -to conceptual ideation, for he says, “Alle psychischen Processe bis -einschliesslich zur Perception lassen sich ohne Sprache ausführen und -vollkommen begreifen, die Apperception dagegen lässt sich nur an der -Hand der Sprache denken” (_loc. cit._ i., 29). - -[33] As stated in a previous foot-note, this truth is well exhibited by -M. Binet, _loc. cit._ - -[34] The word Logic is derived from λόγος, which in turn is derived -from λέδω, to arrange, to lay in order, to pick up, to bind together. - -[35] The terms Logic of Feelings and Logic of Signs were first -introduced and extensively employed by Comte. Afterwards they were -adopted, and still more extensively employed by Lewes, who, however, -seems to have thought that he so employed them in some different sense. -To me it appears that in this Lewes was mistaken. Save that Comte is -here, as elsewhere, intoxicated with theology, I think that the ideas -he intended to set forth under these terms are the same as those which -are advocated by Lewes—although his incoherency justifies the remark -of his follower:—“Being unable to understand this, I do not criticize -it” (_Probs. of Life and Mind_, iii., p. 239). The terms in question -are also sanctioned by Mill, as shown by the above quotation (p. 42). - -[36] _Mental Evolution in Animals_, p. 62. - -[37] Special attention, however, may be drawn to the fact that the -term “unconscious judgment” is not metaphorical, but serves to convey -in a technical sense what appears to be the precise psychology of -the process. For the distinguishing element of a judgment, in its -technical sense, is that it involves an element of _belief_. Now, -as Mill remarks, “when a stone lies before me, I am conscious of -certain sensations which I receive from it; but if I say that these -sensations come to me from an external object which I perceive, the -meaning of these words is, that receiving the sensations, I intuitively -believe that an external cause of those sensations exists” (_Logic_, -i., p. 58). In cases, such as that mentioned in the text, where the -“unconscious judgment” is wrong—_i.e._ the perception illusory—it -may, of course, be over-ridden by judgment of a higher order, and thus -we do not end by believing that the bowl is a sphere. Nevertheless, -so far as it is dependent on the testimony of our senses, the mind -judges erroneously in perceiving the bowl as a sphere. In his work on -_Illusions_, Mr. Sully has shown that illusions of perception arise -through the mental “application of a rule, valid for the majority of -cases, to an exceptional case.” In other words, an erroneous judgment -is made by the non-conceptual faculties of perception—this judgment -being formed upon the analogies supplied by past experience. Of course, -such an act of merely perceptual inference is not a judgment, strictly -so called; but it is clearly _allied_ to judgment, and convenience -is consulted by following established custom in designating it -“unconscious,” “intuitive,” or “perceptual judgment.” - -[38] _Descent of Man_, p. 76. - -[39] See _Animal Intelligence_, pp. 465, 466. - -[40] Of course the words “general idea” and “concept” here are open to -that psychological objection for the avoidance of which I have coined -the terms generic idea and recept. - -[41] In my previous works I have already quoted facts of animal -intelligence narrated by this author, but not any of those which I am -now about to use. - -[42] _Intelligence of Animals_, English trans., p. 20. - -[43] _Ibid._, p. 107. This identical illustration appears to have -occurred independently both to Mr. Darwin and Mr. Leslie Stephen. All -these writers use the terms “abstract” and “general” as above; but, -of course, as shown in my last chapter, this is merely a matter of -terminology—in my opinion, however, objectionable, because appearing -to assume, without analysis, that the ideation of brutes and of men is -identical in kind. - -[44] _Ibid._, pp. 43, 44. - -[45] _Ibid._, p. 39. - -[46] _Ibid._, p. 30. In the present connection, also, I may refer -to the chapter on Imagination in my previous work, where sundry -illustrations are given of this faculty as it occurs in animals; for -wherever imagination leads to appropriate action, there is evidence -of a Logic of Recepts, which in the higher levels of imagination, -characteristic of man, passes into a Logic of Concepts. - -Since publishing the chapter just alluded to, I have received an -additional and curious illustration of the imaginative faculty in -animals, which I think deserves to be published for its own sake. Of -course we may see in a general way that dogs and cats resemble children -in their play of “pretending” that inanimate objects are alive, and -this betokens a comparatively high level of the imaginative faculty. -The case which I am about to quote, however, appears to show that this -kind of imaginative play may extend in animals, as in children, to the -still higher level of not only pretending that inanimate objects are -alive, but of “peopling space with fancy’s airy forms.” I shall quote -the facts in the words of my correspondent, who is Miss Bramston, the -authoress. - -“_Watch_ is a collie dog belonging to the Archbishop of Canterbury; but -lives with me a good deal, as Lambeth does not suit him. He is a very -remarkable dog in many ways, which I will not inflict on you. He is -very intelligent, understands many words, and can perform tricks. What -I mention him for, however, is that he is the only dog I ever met with -a dramatic faculty. His favourite drama is chasing imaginary pigs. He -used now and then to be sent to chase real pigs out of the field, and -after a time it became a custom for Miss Benson to open the door for -him after dinner in the evening, and say, ‘Pigs!’ when he always ran -about, wildly chasing imaginary pigs. If no one opened the door, he -went to it himself wagging his tail, asking for his customary drama. He -now reaches a further stage, for as soon as we get up after our last -meal he begins to bark violently, and if the door is open he rushes -out to chase imaginary pigs with no one saying the word ‘pigs’ at all. -He usually used to be sent out to chase pigs after prayers in the -evening, and when he came to my small house it was amusing to see that -he recognized the function of prayers, performed with totally different -accompaniments, to be the same as prayers performed in an episcopal -chapel, so far as he expected ‘Pigs’ to be the end of both. The word -‘Pigs,’ uttered in any tone, will always set him off playing the same -drama.” - -[47] _Ibid._, pp. 125, 126. - -[48] Professor Preyer has ascertained experimentally the number of -objects (such as shot-corns, pins, or dots on a piece of paper), which -admit of being simultaneously estimated with accuracy. (_Sitzungs -berichten der Gesellschaft für Medicin und Naturwissenshaft_, 29 Juli, -1881.) The number admits of being largely increased by practice, until, -with an exposure to view of one second’s duration, the estimate admits -of being correctly made up to between twenty and thirty objects. (See -also _Mental Evolution in Animals_, p. 138.) - -[49] _Lessons from Nature_, pp. 219, 220. - -[50] See _Animal Intelligence_, pp. 422-424. - -[51] I may here observe that the earliest age in the infant at which -I have observed such appreciation of causality to occur is during the -sixth month. With my own children at that age I noticed that if I -made a knocking sound with my concealed foot, they would look round -and round the room with an obvious desire to ascertain the cause -that was producing the sound. Compare, also, _Mental Evolution in -Animals_, pp. 156-158, on emotions aroused in brutes by sense of the -_mysterious_—_i.e._ the _unexplained_. - -[52] The reader is referred to the whole biography of this monkey -(_Animal Intelligence_, pp. 484-498) for a number of other facts -serving to show to how high a level of intelligent grouping—or of -“logic”—recepts may attain without the aid of concepts. In the same -connection I may refer to the chapter on “Imagination” in _Mental -Evolution in Animals_, and also to the following pages in _Animal -Intelligence_:—128-40; 181-97, 219-222, 233, 311-335, 337, 338, 340, -348-352, 377-385, 397-410, 413-425, 426-436, 445-470, 478-498. - -[53] Taine, _On Intelligence_, pp. 16, 17. - -[54] _Lectures_, vol. ii., p. 290. - -[55] _Science of Thought_, p. 35. For his whole argument, see pp. 30-64. - -[56] _Ursprung der Sprache_, s. 91. - -[57] _Grundriss der Sprachwissenshaft_, i., s. 16. It will be observed -that there is an obvious analogy between the process above described, -whereby conceptual ideation becomes degraded into receptual, and that -whereby, on a lower plane of mental evolution, intelligence becomes -degraded into instinct. In my former work I devoted many pages to -a consideration of this subject, and showed that the condition to -intelligent adjustments thus becoming instinctive is invariably to be -found in frequency of repetition. Instincts of this kind (“secondary -instincts”) may be termed degraded recepts, just as the recepts spoken -of in the text are degraded concepts; neither could be what it now is, -but for its higher parentage. Any one who is specially interested in -the question whether there can be thought without words, may consult -the correspondence between Prof. Max Müller, Mr. Francis Galton, -myself, and others, in _Nature_, May and June, 1887 (since published -in a separate form); between the former and Mr. Mivart, in _Nature_, -March, 1888. Also an article by Mr. Justice Stephen in the _Nineteenth -Century_, April, 1888. Prof. Whitney has some excellent remarks on this -subject in his _Language and the Study of Language_, pp. 405-411. - -[58] From this it will be seen that by using such terms as “inference,” -“reason,” “rational,” &c., in alluding to mental processes of the lower -animals, I am in no way prejudicing the question as to the distinction -between man and brute. In the higher region of recepts both the man -and the brute attain in no small degree to a perception of analogies -or relations: this is inference or ratiocination in its most direct -form, and differs from the process as it takes place in the sphere -of conceptual thought only in that it is not itself an object of -knowledge. But, considered as a process of inference or ratiocination, -I do not see that it should make any difference in our terminology -whether or not it happens to be itself an object of knowledge. -Therefore I do not follow those numerous writers who restrict such -terms to the higher exhibitions of the process, or to the ratiocination -which is concerned only with introspective thought. It may be a matter -of straw-splitting, but I think it is best to draw our distinctions -where the distinctions occur; and I cannot see that it modifies the -process of inference, as inference, whether or not the mind, in virtue -of a superadded faculty, is able to think about the process as a -process—not any more, for instance, than the process of association -is altered by its becoming itself an object of knowledge. Therefore, I -hope I have made it clear that in maintaining the rationality of brutes -I am not arguing for anything more than that they have the power, as -Mr. Mivart himself allows, of drawing “practical inferences.” Hitherto, -then, my difference with Mr. Mivart—and, so far as I know, with all -other modern writers who maintain the irrationality of brutes—is only -one of terminology. - -[59] See _Animal Intelligence_, p. 158. - -[60] _Animal Intelligence_, pp. 114-116. - -[61] Kreplin, quoted by Büchner. - -[62] The best instances of sign-making among Invertebrata other than -the Hymenoptera which I have met with is one that I have myself -observed and already recorded in _Mental Evolution in Animals_ (p. 343, -note). The animal is the processional caterpillar. These larvæ migrate -in the form of a long line, crawling Indian file, with the head of the -one touching the tail of the next in the series. If one member of the -series be removed, the next member in advance immediately stops and -begins to wag its head in a peculiar manner from side to side. This -serves as a signal for the next member also to stop and wag his head, -and so on till all the members in front of the interruption are at a -standstill, all wagging their heads. But as soon as the interval is -closed up by the advance of the rear of the column, the front again -begins to move forward, when the head-wagging ceases. - -[63] _Fac. Ment. des Animaux_, tom. ii., p. 348. - -[64] Darwin, _Descent of Man_, pp. 84, 85. - -[65] _Nature_, April 10, 1884, pp. 547, 548. - -[66] For information on all these points, see Darwin, _Expression of -the Emotions_. - -[67] Quoted by Tylor, _Early History of Mankind_, p. 80. - -[68] Burton, _City of the Saints_, p. 151. - -[69] _Loc. cit._, p. 78. - -[70] _Sign-language among the North American Indians, &c._, by -Lieut.-Col. Garrick Mallery (_First Annual Report of the Bureau of -Ethnology, Washington_, 1881). - -[71] Mallery, _loc. cit._, p. 320. The author gives several very -interesting records of such conversations, and adds that the mutes show -more aptitude in understanding the Indians than _vice versâ_, because -to them “the ‘action, action, action,’ of Demosthenes is their only -oratory, and not a heightening of it, however valuable.” - -[72] _Loc. cit._, p. 39. - -[73] See especially Tylor, _loc. cit._, pp. 28-30, where an interesting -account is given of the elaborate and yet self-speaking signs whereby -an adult deaf-mute gave directions for the drawing up of his will. - -[74] _Early History of Mankind_, pp. 24-32. - -[75] _Loc. cit._, p. 54. - -[76] Further information of a kind corroborating what has been given -in the foregoing chapter concerning gesture-language may be found in -Long’s _Expedition to the Rocky Mountains_, and Kleinpaul’s paper in -_Völkerpsychologie_, _&c._, vi. 352-375. The subject was first dealt -with in a philosophical manner by Leibnitz, in 1717, _Collectanea -Etymologia_, ch. ix. - -[77] For meaningless articulation by idiots, see Scott’s _Remarks on -Education of Idiots_. The fact is alluded to by most writers on idiot -psychology, and I have frequently observed it myself. But the case of -uneducated deaf-mutes is here more to the purpose. I will, therefore, -furnish one quotation in evidence of the above statement. “It is a very -notable fact bearing upon the problem of the Origin of Language, that -even born-mutes, who never heard a word spoken, do of their own accord -and without any teaching make vocal sounds more or less articulate, -to which they attach a definite meaning, and which, when once made, -they go on using afterwards in the same unvarying sense. Though these -sounds are often capable of being written down more or less accurately -with our ordinary alphabets, this effect on those who make them can, -of course, have nothing to do with the sense of hearing, but must -consist only in particular ways of breathing, combined with particular -positions of the vocal organs” (Tylor, _Early History of Mankind_, p. -72, where see for evidence). The instinctive articulations of Laura -Bridgman (who was blind as well as deaf) are in this connection even -still more conclusive (see _ibid._, pp. 74, 75). - -[78] Writers on infant psychology differ as to the time when words are -first understood by infants. Doubtless it varies in individual cases, -and is always more or less difficult to determine with accuracy. But -all observers agree—and every mother or nurse could corroborate—that -the understanding of many words and sentences is unmistakable long -before the child itself begins to speak. Mr. Darwin’s observations -showed that in the case of his children the understanding of words and -sentences was unmistakable between the tenth and twelfth months. - -[79] See _Animal Intelligence_: for Fish, p. 250; for Frogs and Toads, -p. 225; for Snakes, p. 261; for Birds and Mammals in various parts of -the chapters devoted to these animals. The case quoted on the authority -of Bingley regarding the tame bees of Mr. Wildman, which he had taught -to obey words of command (p. 189), would, if corroborated, carry the -faculty in question into the invertebrated series. - -[80] Although the ages at which talking proper begins varies much in -different children, it may be taken as a universal rule—as stated in -the last foot-note—that words, and even sentences, are understood long -before they are intelligently articulated; although, as previously -remarked, even before any words are _understood_ meaningless syllables -may be spontaneously or instinctively articulated. - -[81] See, for instance, Watson’s _Reasoning Power in Animals_, pp. -137-149, and Meunier’s _Les Animaux Perfectibles_, ch. xii. - -[82] _Ursprung der Sprache_, p. 122. - -[83] Some cases are on record of dogs having been taught to -articulate. Thus the thoughtful Leibnitz vouches for the fact (which -he communicated to the _Académie Royale_ at Paris, and which that body -said they would have doubted had it not been observed by so eminent -a man), that he had heard a peasant’s dog distinctly articulate -thirty words, which it had been taught to say by the peasant’s son. -The _Dumfries Journal_, January, 1829, mentions a dog as then living -in that town, who uttered distinctly the word “William,” which was -the name of a person to whom he was attached. Again, Colonel Mallery -writes:—“Some recent experiments of Prof. A. Graham Bell, no less -eminent from his work in artificial speech than in telephones, shows -that animals are more physically capable of pronouncing articulate -sounds than has been supposed. He informed the writer that he recently -succeeded by manipulation in causing an English terrier to form a -number of the sounds of our letters, and particularly brought out -from it the words ‘How are you, grandmama,’ with distinctness.” As I -believe that the barrier to articulation in dogs is anatomical and not -psychological, I regard it as merely a question of observation whether -this barrier may not in some cases be partly overcome; but, as far as -the evidence goes, I think it is safer to conclude that the instances -mentioned consisted in the animals so modulating the tones of their -voices as to resemble the sounds of certain words. - -[84] Mr. Darwin writes:—“It is certain that some parrots, which have -been taught to speak, connect unerringly words with things, and persons -with events. I have received several detailed accounts to this effect. -Admiral Sir J. Sullivan, whom I know to be a careful observer, assures -me that an African parrot, long kept in his father’s house, invariably -called certain persons of the household, as well as visitors, by their -names. He said ‘Good morning’ to every one at breakfast, and ‘Good -night’ to each as they left the room at night, and never reversed -these salutations. To Sir J. Sullivan’s father he used to add to the -‘good morning’ a short sentence, which was never repeated after his -father’s death. He scolded violently a strange dog which came into the -room through an open window, and he scolded another parrot (saying, -‘You naughty polly!’), which had got out of its cage, and was eating -apples on the kitchen table. Dr. A. Moschkan informs me that he knew a -starling which never made a mistake in saying in German ‘good morning’ -to persons arriving, and ‘good-bye, old fellow’ to those departing. I -could add several other cases” (_Descent of Man_, p. 85). Similarly -Houzeau gives some instances of nearly the same kind (_Fac. Ment. des -Anim._, tom, ii., p. 309, _et seq._); and Mrs. Lee, in her _Anecdotes_ -records several still more remarkable cases (which are quoted by -Houzeau), as does also M. Meunier in his recently published work on -_Les Animaux Perfectibles_. In my own correspondence I have received -numerous letters detailing similar facts, and from these I gather -that parrots often use comical phrases when they desire to excite -laughter, pitiable phrases when they desire to excite compassion, and -so on; although it does not follow from this that the birds understand -the meanings of these phrases, further than that they are as a whole -appropriate to excite the feelings which it is desired to excite. I -have myself kept selected parrots, and can fully corroborate all the -above statements from my own observations. - -[85] _Journal of Mental Science_, July, 1879. - -[86] This term has been previously used by some philologists to signify -ejaculation by man. It will be observed that I use it in a more -extended sense. - -[87] _Man’s Place in Nature_, p. 52. I may here appropriately allude -to a paper which elicited a good deal of discussion some years ago. It -was read before the Victoria Institute in March, 1872, by Dr. Frederick -Bateman, under the title “Darwinism tested by Recent Researches in -Language;” and its object was to argue that the faculty of articulate -speech constitutes a difference of kind between the psychology of man -and that of the lower animals. This argument Dr. Bateman sought to -establish, first on the usual grounds that no animals are capable of -using words with any degree of understanding, and, second, on grounds -of a purely anatomical kind. In the text I fully deal with the first -allegation: as a matter of fact, many of the lower animals understand -the meanings of many words, while those of them which are alone capable -of imitating our articulate sounds not unfrequently display a correct -appreciation of their use as signs. But what I have here especially -to consider is the anatomical branch of Dr. Bateman’s argument. He -says:—“As the remarkable similarity between the brain of man and that -of the ape cannot be disputed, if the seat of human speech could be -positively traced to any particular part of the brain, the Darwinian -could say that, although the ape could not speak, he possessed the germ -of that faculty, and that in subsequent generations, by the process of -evolution, the ‘speech centre’ would become more developed, and the -ape would then speak.... If the scalpel of the anatomist has failed to -discover a _material locus habitandi_ for man’s proud prerogative—the -faculty of Articulate Language; if science has failed to trace speech -to a ‘material centre,’ has failed thus to connect matter with mind, I -submit that speech is the barrier between men and animals, establishing -between them a difference not only of degree but of kind; the Darwinian -analogy between the brain of man and that of his reputed ancestor, -the ape, loses all its force, whilst the common belief in the Mosaic -account of the origin of man is strengthened.” Now, I will not wait to -present the evidence which has fully satisfied all living physiologists -that “the faculty of Articulate Language” has “a _material locus -habitandi_;” for the point on which I desire to insist is that it -cannot make one iota of difference to “the Darwinian analogy” whether -this faculty is restricted to a particular “speech-centre,” or has -its anatomical “seat” distributed over any wider area of the cerebral -cortex. Such a “seat” there must be in either case, if it be allowed -(as Dr. Bateman allows) that the cerebral cortex “is undoubtedly the -instrument by which this attribute becomes externally manifested.” -The question whether “the material organ of speech” is large or small -cannot possibly affect the question on which we are engaged. Since Dr. -Bateman wrote, a new era has arisen in the localization of cerebral -functions; so that, if there were any soundness in his argument, one -would now be in a position immensely to strengthen “the Darwinian -analogy;” seeing that physiologists now habitually utilize the brains -of monkeys for the purpose of analogically localizing the “motor -centres” in the brain of man. In other words, “the Darwinian analogy” -has been found to extend in physiological, as well as in anatomical -detail, throughout the entire area of the cortex. But, as I have shown, -there is no soundness in his argument; and therefore I do not avail -myself of these recent and most wonderfully suggestive results of -physiological research. - -[88] I may, however, add the following corroborative observations, as -they have not been previously published. I owe them to the kindness -of my friend Mr. A. E. Street, who kept a diary of his children’s -psychogenesis. When about two years of age one of these children -possessed the following vocabulary:— - - Af-ta (in imitation of the sound which the nurse used to make when - pretending to drink) = _drinking_ or a _drink_, _drinking-vessel_, and - hence a _glass_ of any kind. - - Vy = a _fly_. - - Vy-’ta = _window_, _i.e._ the ‘ta or af-ta (_glass_) on which a fly - walks. - - Blow = _candle_. - - Blow-hattie = a _lamp_, _i.e._ candle with a hat or shade. - - ’Nell = a _flower_, _i.e._ smell. - -These words are clearly all of imitative origin. The following, -however, seem to have been purely arbitrary:— - - Numby = _food_ of any kind (onomatopoetic). - - Nunny = _dress_ of any kind. - - Milly = _dressing_, and any article used in dressing, _e.g._ a pin. - - Lee = _the name for her nurse_, though no one else called the woman by - any other name than nurse. - - Diddle-iddle = _a hole_; hence _a thimble_; hence _a finger_. - - Wasky = _the sea_. - - Bilu-bilu = _the printed character_ “&,” invented on learning the - first letters of her alphabet, and always afterwards used. - -[89] Touching the comparative rapidity with which signs admit of being -made to the eye and ear respectively, it may be pointed out that there -is a physiological reason why the latter should have the advantage; for -while the ear can distinguish successive sensations separated only by -an interval of .016 sec., the eye cannot do so unless the interval is -more than .047 sec. (Wundt). - -[90] _Encyclop. Brit._, 9th ed., art. _Philology_. - -[91] It will be remembered that in a previous chapter I argued the -impossibility of estimating the reflex influence of speech upon -gesture, in the case of the high development attained by the latter in -man. In the text I am now considering the converse influence of gesture -upon speech, and find that it is no more easy precisely to estimate. -There can be no doubt, however, that the reciprocal influence must -have been great in both directions, and that it must have proceeded -from gesture to speech in the first instance, and afterwards, when the -latter had become well developed as a system of auditory signs, from -speech to gesture. More will require to be said upon this point in a -future chapter. - -[92] “The remark made by Tiedemann on the imperative intention of -tears, is confirmed by similar observations of Charles Darwin’s. At -the age of eleven weeks, in the case of one of his children, a little -sooner in another, the nature of their crying changed according to -whether it was produced by hunger or suffering. And this means of -communication appeared to be very early placed at the service of the -will. The child seemed to have learnt to cry when he wished, and to -contract his features according to the occasion, so as to make known -that he wanted something. This development of the will takes place -towards the end of the third month.” (Perez, _First Three Years of -Childhood_, English trans., p. 101.) - -[93] Several writers of repute have habitually used the word “Judgment” -in a most unwarrantable manner—Lewes, for instance, making it stand -indifferently for an act of sensuous determination and an act of -conceptual thought. I may, therefore, here remark that in the following -analysis I shall not be concerned with any such gratuitous abuses of -the term, but will understand it in the technical sense which it bears -in logic and psychology. The extraordinary views which Mr. Huxley -has published upon this subject I can only take to be ironical. For -instance, he says:—“Ratiocination is resolvable into predication, -and predication consists in marking in some way the existence, the -co-existence, the succession, the likeness and unlikeness, of things or -their ideas. Whatever does this, reasons; and I see no more ground for -denying to it reasoning power, because it is unconscious, than I see -for refusing Mr. Babbage’s engine the title of a calculating machine -on the same grounds” (_Critiques and Addresses_, p. 281). If this -statement were taken seriously, of course the answer would be that Mr. -Babbage’s engine is called a calculating machine only in a metaphorical -sense, seeing that it does not evolve its results by any process at -all resembling, or in any way analogous to, those of a human mind. It -would be an absurd misstatement to say that a machine either reasons -or predicates, _only_ because it “marks in some way the existence, -the co-existence, the succession, and the likeness and unlikeness of -things.” A rising barometer or a striking clock do not predicate, any -more than a piece of wood, shrieking beneath a circular saw, feels. -To denominate purely mechanical or unconscious action—even though it -should take place in a living agent and be perfectly adjustive—reason -or predication, would be to confuse physical phenomena with psychical; -and, as I have shown in my previous work, even if it be supposed that -the latter are mere “indices” or “shadows” of the former, _still the -fact of their existence must be recognized_; and the processes in -question have reference to them, not to their physical counterparts. -It is, therefore, just as incorrect to say that a calculating machine -really calculates, or predicates the result of its calculations, as it -would be to say that a musical-box composes a tune because it plays a -tune, or that the love of Romeo and Juliet was an isosceles triangle, -because their feelings of affection, each to each, were, like the -angles at the base of that figure, equal. But, as I have said, I take -it that Professor Huxley must here have been writing in some ironical -sense, and therefore purposely threw his criticisms into a preposterous -form. - -[94] The “images answering respectively to ‘a thing being,’ and ‘a -thing not being,’ and to ‘at the same time’ and ‘in the same sense,’” -must indeed be “vague.” How is it conceivable that “the imagination” -can entertain any such “images” at all, apart from the “abstract ideas” -of the “mind”? Such ideas as “a thing not being,” or “being in the same -sense,” &c., belong to the sphere of conceptual thought, and cannot -have any existence at all except as “abstract ideas of the mind.” - -[95] _Nature_, August 21, 1879. - -[96] The statement conveyed in this sentence I am not able to -understand, and therefore will not hereafter endeavour to criticize. -If it be taken literally—and I know not in what other sense to take -it—we must suppose the writer to mean that “greenness” only occurs in -“grass,” or, which is the same thing, that only grass is green. - -[97] _Lessons from Nature_, pp. 226, 227. - -[98] For instance, Professor Francis Bowen, of Harvard College, in an -essay on _The Human and Brute Mind_, _Princeton Review_, 1880. - -[99] Mill, following the schoolmen, uses the terms connotation and -denomination as synonymous. For the distinction which I have drawn -between them see above, p. 162. - -[100] Sayce, _Introduction to the Science of Language_, i., 115. - -[101] This view of a concept as already embodying the idea of existence -is not really opposed to that of Mill, where he points out that if we -pronounce the word “Sun” alone we are not necessarily affirming so much -as existence of the sun (_Logic_, i., p. 20); for, although we are not -affirming existence of that particular body, we must at least have the -idea of its existence _as a possibility_: the use of the term carries -with it the implied idea of such a possibility, and therefore the idea -of existence—whether actual or potential—as already present to the -mind of the speaker. - -[102] In order to avoid misapprehension, I may observe that the -criticism which Mill passes upon this analysis of the proposition by -Hobbes (_Logic_, i., p. 100) has no reference to the only matter with -which I am at present concerned—namely, the function of the copula. -Indeed, with regard to this matter I am in full agreement with both -the Mills. For James Mill, see _Analysis of the Human Mind_, i. 126, -_et seq._; Mr. John Stuart Mill writes as follows:—“It is important -that there should be no indistinctness in our conception of the nature -and office of the copula; for confused notions respecting it are among -the causes which have spread mysticism over the field of logic, and -perverted its speculations into logomachies. It is apt to be supposed -that the copula is something more than a mere sign of predication; -that it also signifies existence. In the proposition, Socrates is -just, it may seem to be implied not only that the quality _just_ can -be affirmed of Socrates, but moreover that Socrates _is_, that is to -say exists. This, however, only shows that there is an ambiguity in -the word _is_; a word which not only performs the function of a copula -in affirmations, but has also a meaning of its own, in virtue of which -it may itself be made the predicate of a proposition” (_Logic_, i., p. -86). In my chapters on Philology I shall have to recur to the analysis -of predication, and then it will be seen how completely the above view -has been corroborated by the progress of linguistic research. - -[103] Of course concepts may be something more than mere recepts known -as such: they may be the knowledge of other concepts. But with this -higher stage of conceptual ideation I am not here concerned. - -[104] _Nature_, August 21, 1879. - -[105] Taine, _Intelligence_, pp. 399, 400. - -[106] Or, as we may now more closely define it, a denominated recept. -A merely denotated recept (such as a parrot’s name for its recept of -dog) is not conceptual, even in the lowest degree. In other words, -named recepts, merely as such, are not necessarily concepts. Whether -or not they are concepts depends on whether the naming has been an -act of denotation or of denomination—conscious only, or likewise -_self_-conscious. - -[107] I coin this word on the pattern already furnished by -“pre-perception,” which was first introduced by Lewes, and is now in -general use among psychologists. - -[108] Touching the power of recognizing pictorial representations among -animals, this unquestionably occurs in dogs (see _Animal Intelligence_, -pp. 455, 456), and there is some evidence to show that it is likewise -displayed by monkeys. For Isidore Geoffroy St. Hilaire relates of a -species of Midas (_Corinus_) that it distinguished between different -objects depicted on an engraving; and Audouin “showed it the portraits -of a cat and a wasp, at which it became much terrified: whereas, at the -sight of a figure of a grasshopper or a beetle, it precipitated itself -on the picture, as if to seize the objects there represented” (Bates, -_Nat. on Amaz._, p. 60). The age at which a young child first learns to -recognize pictorial resemblances no doubt varies in individual cases. I -have not met with any evidence on this subject in the writings of other -observers of infant psychology. The earliest age at which I observed -any display of this faculty in my own children was at eight months, -when my son stared long and fixedly at my own portrait in a manner -which left no doubt on my mind that he recognized it as resembling the -face of a man. Moreover, always after that day when asked in that room, -“Where’s papa?” he used at once to look up and point at the portrait. -Another child of my own, which had not seen this portrait till she was -sixteen months old, immediately recognized it at first sight, as was -proved by her pointing to it and calling it “Papa.” Two months later I -observed that she also recognized pictorial resemblances of animals, -and for many months afterwards her chief amusement consisted in looking -through picture-books for the purpose of pointing out the animals or -persons depicted—calling “Ba-a-a” to the sheep, “Moo” to the cows, -grunting for the pigs, &c., these sundry sounds having been taught -her as names by the nurse. She never made a mistake in this kind of -nomenclature, and spontaneously called all pictorial representations -of men “Papa,” of women “Mama,” and of children “Ilda”—the latter -being the name which she had given to her younger brother. Moreover, -if a picture-book were given into her hands upside-down, she would -immediately perceive and rectify the mistake; and whenever she happened -to see a pictorial representation of an animal—as, for instance, on -a screen or wall-paper—she would touch it and utter the sound that -was her name for that animal. With a third child, who was still wholly -speechless at eighteen months, I tried the experiment of spreading out -a number of photographic portraits, and asking him “Which is mamma? -Which is papa?” &c. Without any hesitation he indicated them all -correctly. - -[109] By using the word “judgment” in all these cases I am in no -way prejudicing the argument of my opponents. The explanation which -immediately follows in the text is sufficient to show that the -qualifying terms “receptual” and “pre-conceptual” effectually guard -against any abuse of the term—quite as much, for instance, as when -psychologists speak of “perceptual judgments,” or “unconscious -judgments,” or “intuitive judgments,” in connection with still lower -levels of mental operation. And it seems to me better thus to qualify -an existing term than to add to the already large number of words I -have found it necessary to coin. - -[110] I may here remark that this possibility of receptual predication -on the part of talking birds is not entirely hypothetical: I have -some evidence that it may be actually realized. For instance, a -correspondent writes of a cockatoo which had been ill:—“A friend -came the same afternoon, and asked him how he was. With his head on -one side and one of his cunning looks, he told her that he was ‘a -little better;’ and when she asked him if he had not been very ill, he -said, ‘Cockie better; Cockie ever so much better.’ ... ‘When I came -back (after a prolonged absence) he said, ‘Mother come back to little -Cockie: Mother come back to little Cockie. Come and love me and give -me pretty kiss. Nobody pity poor Cockie. The boy beat poor Cockie.’ He -always told me if Jes scolded or beat him. He always told me as soon as -he saw me, and in such a pitiful tone.... The remarkable thing about -this bird is that he does not merely ‘talk’ like parrots in general, -but so habitually _talks to the purpose_.” - -[111] Lest there should still be any ambiguity about the numerous terms -which I have found it necessary to coin, I will here supply a table of -definitions. - - Lower recept = an automatic grouping of percepts. - - Higher recept = pre-concept; or a degree of receptual ideation which - does not occur in any brute. - - Lower concept = named recept, provided that the naming be due to - reflective thought. - - Higher concept = a named compound of concepts. - -The analogues of these terms are, in the matter of naming:— - - Receptual naming = denotation, which includes pre-conceptual naming. - - Conceptual naming = denomination. - -And, in the matter of judging, the analogues are:— - - Receptual judgment = automatic, “practical,” or unthinking inference. - - Pre-conceptual judgment = the higher, though still unthinking, - inferences of a child prior to the rise of self-consciousness. - - Conceptual judgment = true judgment, whether exhibited in - denomination, predication, or any act of inference for which - self-conscious thought may be required. - -[112] See above, Chapters II. and IV. - -[113] See _Mental Evolution in Animals_, chapter on “Imagination.” - -[114] In the opinion of Wundt, the most important of all conditions -to the genesis of self-consciousness is given by the muscular sense -in acts of voluntary movement (_Vorlesungen über die Menschen und -Thierseele_, 18 vol.). While agreeing with him that this is a highly -important condition, I think the others above mentioned are quite as -much, or even more so. - -[115] See for cases of this, _Animal Intelligence_, pp. 410, 443, 444, -450-452, 458, 494. - -[116] The following is a good example of ejective ideation in a -brute—all the better, perhaps, on account of being so familiar. I -quote it from Quatrefage’s _Human Species_, pp. 20, 21:—“I must here -beg permission to relate the remembrance of my struggles with a mastiff -of pure breed and which had attained its full size, remaining, however, -very young in character. We were very good friends and often played -together. As soon as ever I assumed an attitude of defence before him, -he would leap upon me with every appearance of fury, seizing in his -mouth the arm which I had used as a shield. He might have marked my arm -deeply at the first onset, but he never pressed it in a manner that -could inflict the slightest pain. I often seized his lower jaw with my -hand, but he never used his teeth so as to bite me. And yet the next -moment the same teeth would indent a piece of wood I tried to tear away -from them. This animal evidently knew what it was doing when it feigned -the passion precisely opposite to that which it really felt; when, even -in the excitement of play, it retained sufficient mastery over its -movements to avoid hurting me. In reality it played a part in a comedy, -and we cannot act without being conscious of it.” - -[117] Not, however, wholly so. Mr. Chauncey Wright has clearly -recognized the existence of what I term receptual self-consciousness, -and assigned to it the name above adopted—_i.e._ “outward -self-consciousness.” See his _Evolution of Self-consciousness_. Mr. -Darwin, also, appears to have recognized this distinction, in the -following passage:—“It may be freely admitted that no animal is -self-conscious, if by this term is implied that he reflects on such -points as whence he comes or whither he will go, or what is life and -death, and so forth. But how can we feel sure that an old dog with -an excellent memory and some power of imagination, as shown by his -dreams, never reflects on his past pleasures or pains in the chase? -And this would be a form of self-consciousness” (_Descent of Man_, p. -83). Of course a psychologist may take technical exception to the word -“reflects” in this passage; but that this kind of receptual reflection -does take place in dogs appears to me to be definitely proved by the -facts of home-sickness and pining for absent friends, above alluded to. - -[118] In the present connection the following very pregnant sentence -may be appropriately quoted from Wundt:—“Wenn wir überall auf die -Empfindung als Ausgangspunkt der ganzen Entwicklungsreihe hingewiesen -werden, so _müssen_ auch die Anfänge jener Unterscheidung des Ichs von -den Gegenständen schon in den Empfindungen gelegen sein” (_Vorlesungen -über die Menschen und Thierseele_, i. 287). And to the objection that -there can be no thought without knowledge of thought, he replies -that before there is any knowledge of thought there must be the same -order of thinking as there is of perceiving prior to the advent of -self-consciousness—_e.g._ receptual ideas about space before there is -any conceptual knowledge of these ideas as such. - -[119] Sully, _loc. cit._, p. 376. See also Wundt, _loc. cit._, i. 289. -He shows that this speaking of self in the third person is not due to -“imitation,” but, on the contrary, opposed to it. For “a thousand times -the child hears that its elders do not thus speak of themselves.” The -child hears that its elders call it in the third person, and in this it -follows them. But such imitation as we here find is expressive only of -the fact that hitherto the child has not distinguished between self as -an object and self as a subject. Only later on, when this distinction -has begun to dawn, does imitation proceed to apply to the self the -first person, after the manner in which other selves (now recognized by -the child as such) are heard to do. - -[120] _Loc. cit._, p. 377. - -[121] _Loc. cit._, pp. 435, 436. - -[122] _Philosophical Discussions_, p. 256. See also _Animal -Intelligence_, pp. 269, 270, for the case of a parrot apparently -endeavouring to recover the memory of a particular word in a phrase. In -the course of an interesting research on the intelligence of spiders -(_Journ. Morphol._, i., p. 383-419), Mr. and Mrs. Peckham have recently -found that the memory of eggs which have been withdrawn from the mother -is retained by her for a period varying in different species from less -than one to more than two days. - -[123] Sully, _loc. cit._, p. 377. - -[124] Wundt, _loc. cit._, ii. 289, 290. He gives cases where such a -definite memory of the moment has persisted, and elsewhere states that -such is the case in his own experience. The circumstance which here -was connected with the sudden birth of self-consciousness consisted in -rolling down stairs into a cellar—an event which no doubt was well -calculated forcibly to impress upon infant consciousness that it was -itself, and nobody else. - -[125] See _Mental Evolution in Animals_, pp. 161-165. Perez records -analogous facts with regard to the infant as unmistakably displayed in -the fourteenth week (_First Three Years of Childhood_, English trans., -p. 29). - -[126] _Outlines of Psychology_, p. 378. - -[127] _Vorlesungen_, _&c._, i. 289. - -[128] In the above sketch of the principles which are concerned in the -development of self-consciousness, I have only been concerned with the -matter on the side of its psychology, and even on this side only so far -as my own purposes are in view. Those who wish for further information -on the psychology of the subject may consult Wundt, _loc. cit._; Sully, -_loc. cit._, and _Illusions_, ch. x.; Taine, _On Intelligence_, pt. -ii., bk. iii.; Chauncey Wright, _Evolution of Self-consciousness_; and -Waitz, _Lehrbuch der Psychologie_, 58. On the side of its physiology -and pathology Taine, Maudsley, and Ribot may be referred to (_On -Intelligence_, _Pathology of Mind_, _Diseases of Memory_), as also a -paper by Herzen, entitled, _Les Modifications de la Conscience du moi_ -(_Bull. Soc. Hand. Sc. Nat._, xx. 90). _An Essay on the Philosophy of -Self-consciousness_, by P. F. Fitzgerald, is written from the side of -metaphysics. On this side, also, we are met by the school of Hegel and -the Neo-Kantians with a virtual denial of the origin and development -of self-consciousness in time. Thus, for instance, Green expressly -says:—“Should the question be asked, If this self-consciousness is -not derived from nature, what then is its origin? the answer is, that -it has no origin. It never began because it never was not. It is the -condition of there being such a thing as beginning or end. Whatever -begins or ends does so for it, or in relation to it” (_Prolegomena to -Ethics_, p. 119). To this I can only answer that for my own part I feel -as convinced as I am of the fact of my self-consciousness itself that -it had a beginning in time, and was afterwards the subject of a gradual -development. “Das Ich ist ein Entwicklungsprodukt, wie der ganze Mensch -ein Entwicklungsprodukt ist” (Wundt). - -[129] “Of all the neolithic implements the axe was by far the most -important. It was by the axe that man achieved his greatest victory -over nature” (Boyd Dawkins, _Early Man in Britain_, p. 274). - -[130] Galton, _Tropical South Africa_, p. 213. The author adds, “Once, -while I watched a Dammara floundering hopelessly in a calculation on -one side of me, I observed Dinah, my spaniel, equally embarrassed on -the other. She was overlooking half a dozen of her new-born puppies, -which had been removed two or three times from her, and her anxiety was -excessive, as she tried to find out if they were all present, or if any -were still missing. She kept puzzling and running her eyes over them, -backwards and forwards, but could not satisfy herself. She evidently -had a vague notion of counting, but the figure was too large for her -brain. Taking the two as they stood, dog and Dammara, the comparison -reflected no great honour on the man.” As previously stated, I taught -the chimpanzee “Sally” to give one, two, three, four, or five straws at -word of command. - -[131] The boy’s name was Ernest, and was thus called by all other -members of the household. As I could not find any imitative source of -the dissimilar name used by his sister, this is probably an instance -of the spontaneous invention of names by young children, which has -already been considered at the close of my chapter on “Articulation.” -Touching the use of adjectives by young children, I may quote the -following remark from Professor Preyer:—“A very general error must be -removed, which consists in the supposition that all children on first -beginning to speak use substantives only, and later pass on to the use -of adjectives. This is certainly not the case.” And he proceeds to give -instances drawn from the daily observations of his own child, such as -the use of the word “heiss” in the twenty-third month. - -[132] We shall subsequently see that at this stage of mental evolution -there is no well-defined distinction between the different parts of -speech. Therefore here, and elsewhere throughout this chapter, I use -the terms “noun,” “adjective,” “verb,” &c., in a loose and general -sense. - -[133] I have seen a terrier of my own (who habitually employed this -gesture-sign in the same way as Preyer’s child, namely, as expressive -of desire), assiduously though fruitlessly “beg” before a refractory -bitch. - -[134] Many dogs will significantly bark, and cats significantly mew, -for things which they desire to possess or to be done. For significant -crying by children, see above, p. 158. - -[135] For the case of the ape in this connection see above, p. 126. -I took my daughter when she was seven years of age to witness the -understanding of the ape “Sally.” On coming away, I remarked to her -that the animal seemed to be “quite as sensible as Jack”—_i.e._ her -infant brother of eighteen months. She considered for a while, and then -replied, “Well, I think she is sensibler.” And I believe the child was -right. - -[136] Or, if any opponent were to suggest this, he would be committing -argumentative surrender. For the citadel of his argument is, as we -know, the faculty of conception, or the distinctively human power of -objectifying ideas. Now, it is on all hands admitted that this power -is impossible in the absence of self-consciousness. Will it, then, be -suggested that my daughter had attained to self-consciousness and the -introspective contemplation of her own ideas before she had attained -to the faculty of speech, and therefore to the very _condition_ to the -naming of her ideas? If so, it would follow that there may be concepts -without names, and thus the whole fortress of my opponents would -crumble away. - -[137] See pp. 81-83, where it is shown that even in cases where -conceptual thought is necessary for the original formation of a -name, the name may afterwards be used without the agency of such -thought—just in the same way as actions originally due to intelligence -may, by frequent repetition, become automatic. At the close of the -present chapter it will be shown that the same is true even of full or -formal predication. - -[138] In this connection it is interesting to observe the absence of -the copula. Notwithstanding the strongly imitative tendencies of a -child’s mind, and notwithstanding that our English children hear the -copula expressed in almost every statement that is made to them, their -own propositions, while still in the preconceptual phase, dispense with -it (see above, p. 204). In thus trusting to apposition alone, without -expressing any sign of relation, the young child is conveying in -spoken language an immediate translation of the mental acts concerned -in predication. As previously noticed, we meet with precisely the -same fact in the natural language of gesture, even after this has -been wrought up into the elaborate conceptual systems of the Indians -and deaf-mutes. Lastly, in a subsequent chapter we shall see that the -same has to be said of all the more primitive forms of spoken language -which are still extant among savages. So that here again we meet with -additional proof, were any required, of the folly of regarding the -copula as an essential ingredient of a proposition. - -[139] See p. 166. - -[140] Thus far, it will be observed, the case of predication is -precisely analogous to that of denomination, alluded to in the -foot-note on page 226. Just as instincts may arise by way of “lapsed -intelligence,” so may originally conceptual names, and even originally -conceptual propositions, become worn down by frequent use, until they -are, as it were, degraded into the pre-conceptual order of ideation. Be -it observed, however, that the paragraphs which _follow_ in the text -have reference to a totally different principle—namely, that there may -be propositions strictly conceptual as to form, which, nevertheless, -need never at any time have been conceptual as to thought. - -[141] _Logic_, vol. i., p. 108. - -[142] _Encyclopædia Britannica_, eighth edition, 1857, Art. “Language.” - -[143] Of course in classical times, when there was no theological -presumption against the theory of development, this alternative met -with a fuller recognition; as, for example, by the Latin authors, -Horace, Lucretius, and Cicero. Before that time Greek philosophers had -been much exercised by the question whether speech was an intuitive -endowment (analogists), or a product of human invention (anomalists); -and, earlier still, astonishing progress had been made by the -grammarians of India in a truly scientific analysis of language-growth. -But in the text I am speaking of modern times; and here I think there -can be no doubt that till the middle of the present century the -possibility of language having been the result of a natural growth was -not sufficiently recognized. Among those who did recognize it, Herder, -Monboddo, Sir W. Jones, Schlegel, Bopp, Humboldt, Grimm, and Pott, are -most deserving of mention. The same year that witnessed the publication -of the _Origin of Species_ (1859), gave to science the first issue of -Steinthal’s _Zeitschrift für Völkerpsychologie und Sprachwissenschaft_. -From that date onwards the theory of evolution in its application to -philology has held undivided sway. - -[144] _Encycl. Brit._, _loc. cit._ Remembering that the above was -published two years before the _Origin of Species by means of Natural -Selection_, this clear enunciation of the struggle for existence in the -field of philology appears to me deserving of notice. - -[145] _Science of Thought_, preface, p. xi. - -[146] _Darwinism tested by the Science of Language_, p. 41. - -[147] There is a difference of opinion among philologists as to the -extent in which modifying constants were themselves originally roots. -The school of Ludwig regards demonstrative elements as never having -enjoyed existence as independent words; but, even so, they must have -had an independent existence of some kind, else it is impossible to -explain how they ever came to be employed as constantly modifying -different roots in the same way. Moreover, as Max Müller well observes, -“to suppose that Khana, Khain, Khanana, Khaintra, Khatra, &c., all -tumbled out ready-made, without any synthetical purpose, and that -their differences were due to nothing but an uncontrolled play of the -organs of speech, seems to me an unmeaning assertion.... What must be -admitted, however, is that many suffixes and terminations had been -wrongly analyzed by Bopp and his school, and that we must be satisfied -with looking upon most of them as in the beginning simply demonstrative -and modificatory” (_loc. cit._, pp. 224 and 225). See also Farrar, -_Origin of Language_, pp. 100, _et seq._; Donaldson, _Greek Grammar_, -pp. 67-79; and Hovelacque, _Science of Language_, p. 37. It will be -remarked that this question does not affect the exposition in the text. - -[148] _Grundriss der Sprachwissenschaft_, I. i. 77. This estimate is -accepted by Professor Sayce, _Introduction to the Science of Language_, -vol. ii., p. 32. - -[149] Hovelacque, _Science of Language_, English trans., p. 37. - -[150] This method of representation was devised by Schleicher, who -carries it further than I have occasion to do in the text. See _Memoirs -of Academy of St. Petersburg_, vol. i., No. 7, 1859. - -[151] Hovelacque, _loc. cit._, p. 130. - -[152] Sayce, _Introduction, &c._, i. 126. - -[153] _Introduction, &c._, vol. i., p. 374. - -[154] _Ibid._, vol. i., pp. 375, 376. - -[155] _Ibid._, p. 120. See also his _Principles of Comparative -Philology_, 2nd ed., p. ix. - -[156] Sayce, _Introduction, &c._, i., 125, 126. - -[157] Hovelacque, _Science of Language_, p. 130. - -[158] “What we most need to note is the very narrow limitation of -our present knowledge. Even among the neighbouring families like the -Algonquin, Troquois, and Dakota, whose agreement in style of structure -(polysynthetic), taken in connection with the accordant race-type of -their speakers, forbids us to regard them as ultimately different, no -material correspondence, agreements in words and meanings, is to be -traced; and there are in America all degrees of polysynthetism, down -to the lowest, and even to its entire absence. Such being the case, it -ought to be evident that all attempts to connect American languages as -a body with languages of the Old World are, and must be, fruitless: -in fact, all discussions of the matter are at present unscientific” -(Professor Whitney in _Encycl. Brit._, art. “Philology,” 1885). - -[159] _Introduction, &c._, i. 120. - -[160] _Ibid._, i. 116. - -[161] “The number of separate families of speech now existing in -the world, which cannot be connected with one another, is at least -seventy-five; and the number will doubtless be increased when we have -grammars and dictionaries of the numerous languages and dialects which -are still unknown, and better information as regards those with which -we are partially acquainted. If we add to these the innumerable groups -of speech which have passed away without leaving behind even such -waifs as the Basque of the Pyrenees, or the Etruscan of ancient Italy, -some idea will be formed of the infinite number of primæval centres or -communities in which language took its rise” (Sayce, _Introduction, -&c._, ii. 323). - -[162] _Life and Growth of Language_, p. 259. - -[163] _Ibid._, p. 262. - -[164] I may add that the hypothesis admits of corroboration from -sources not mentioned by its author. For Archdeacon Farrar wrote in -1865:—“The neglected children in some of the Canadian and Indian -villages, who are left alone for days, can and do invent for themselves -a sort of _lingua franca_, partially or wholly unintelligible to -all except themselves;” and he quotes Mr. R. Moffat as “testifying -to a similar phenomenon in the villages of South Africa (_Mission -Travels_).” He also alludes to the fact that “deaf-mutes have an -instinctive power to develop for themselves a language of signs,” -which, as we have seen in an earlier chapter, embraces the use of -arbitrary articulations, even though in this case the speakers cannot -themselves hear the sounds which they make. - -While this work is passing through the press an additional paper has -been published by Dr. Hale, entitled, _The Development of Language_. It -supplies further evidence in support of this hypothesis. - -[165] Wundt, _Vorlesungen, &c._, ii., 380, 381. - -[166] Sayce, _Introduction to Science of Language_, ii, 13. - -[167] The difference of opinion in question seems to arise from -individual prepossessions with regard to the ulterior question -whether or not the aboriginal roots of all languages must have been -polysyllabic. For my own part, and for the reasons already given, I can -see no presumption in favour of the view that primitive languages must -all have presented the “polysinthetic genius.” - -[168] _Histoire des Langues Semitique_, p. 138. - -[169] _Etymological Dictionary_, p. 746. - -[170] See Max Müller, _Science of Thought_, p. 332. - -[171] _Ibid._, p. 404. - -[172] _Ethnologische Forschungen_, ii., s. 73, _et seq._ He here quotes -Varro to the effect that the roots of Latin amount to about a thousand. - -[173] _Language and the Study of Language_, p. 256. - -[174] Sayce, _Introduction to the Science of Language_, ii., p. 4. - -[175] Geiger, _Ursprung der Sprache_, s. 16. - -[176] Sayce, _loc. cit._, ii. p. 6. - -[177] Wedgwood, _Etymol. Dict._, p. iii. - -[178] Farrar, _Origin of Language_, p. 53. - -[179] _Science of Thought_, p. 439. - -[180] _Science of Thought_, p. 549. - -[181] _Science of Thought_, pp. 551, 552. - -[182] _Ibid._, pp. 551, 552. - -[183] “The Aryan languages are the languages of a civilized race; the -parent speech to which we may inductively trace them was spoken by men -who stood on a relatively high level of culture” (Sayce, _Introduction, -&c._, i. 56). “The primitive tribe which spoke the mother-tongue -of the Indo-European family was not nomadic alone, but had settled -habitations, even towns and fortified places, and addicted itself in -part to the rearing of cattle, in part to the cultivation of the earth. -It possessed our chief domesticated animals—the horse, the ox, the -goat, and the swine, besides the dog: the bear and the wolf were foes -that ravaged its flocks; the mouse and the fly were already domestic -pests.... Barley, and perhaps also wheat, was raised for food, and -converted into meal. Mead was prepared from honey, as a cheering and -inebriating drink. The use of certain metals was known; whether iron -was one of them admits of question. The art of weaving was practised; -wool and hemp, and possibly flax, being the materials employed.... -The weapons of offence and defence were those which are usual among -primitive peoples, the sword, spear, bow, and shield. Boats were -manufactured and moved by oars.... The art of numeration was learned, -at least up to a hundred; there is no general Indo-European word for -‘thousand.’ Some of the stars were noticed and named; the moon was the -chief measurer of time. The religion was polytheistic, a worship of -the personified powers of nature” (Whitney, _Language and the Study -of Language_, pp. 207, 208). For a more detailed account of this -interesting people, see Poescher, _Die Arier_. - -[184] “Unsere Wurzeln sind die Urwurzeln nicht; wir haben vielleicht, -von keiner einzigen die erste, ursprüngliche Laut-form mehr vor uns, -ebensowenig wohl die Urbedeutung” (Geiger, _Ursprung der Sprache_, s. -65). And this opinion, so far as I know, is adopted as an axiom by all -other philologists. - -[185] “It is impossible to bring down the epoch at which the Aryan -tribes still lived in the same locality, and spoke practically the same -language, to a date much later than the third millennium before the -Christian era” (Sayce, _Introduction_, _&c._, ii., p. 320). - -[186] This fact alone would be sufficient to dispose of what I cannot -but consider, from any and every point of view, the transparent -absurdity of the doctrine that “the formation of thought is the first -and natural purpose of language, while its communication is accidental -only” (_Science of Thought_, p. 40). Such a “purpose” would imply -“thought” as already formed; and, therefore, the doctrine must suppose -a purpose to precede the conditions of its own possibility. - -[187] I use the term “verbs” merely for the sake of brevity and -clearness. Of course there cannot have been verbs, strictly so-called, -before there were parts of speech of any kind. The more accurate -statement is given in the next sentence, and is the one which I desire -to be understood hereafter in the short-hand expression “verbs.” - -[188] “It must be borne in mind that primitive man did not distinguish -between phenomena and volitions, but included everything under the head -of actions, not only the involuntary actions of human beings, such -as breathing, but also the movements of inanimate things, the rising -and setting of the sun, the wind, the flowing of water, and even such -purely inanimate phenomena as fire, electricity, &c.; in short, all -the changing attributes of things were conceived as voluntary actions” -(Sweet, _Words, Logic and Grammar_, p. 486). - -[189] As a matter of fact, and as we shall subsequently see, there is -an immense body of purely philological evidence to show that verbs are -really a much later product of linguistic growth than either nouns or -pronouns. This is proved by their comparative paucity in many existing -languages of low development (their place being taken by pronominal -appositions, &c.); and also by tracing the origin of many of them to -other parts of speech. (See especially Garnett’s _Essays, Pritchard on -the Celtic Languages_, _Quart. Rev._, Sept. 1876; _The Derivation of -Words from Pronominal and Prepositional Roots_, _Proc. Philol. Soc._ -vol. ii.; and _On the Nature and Analysis of the Verb_, ibid., vol. -iii.) Later on it will be shown that in the really primitive stages of -language-growth there is no assignable distinction between any of the -parts of speech. Archdeacon Farrar well remarks, “The invention of a -verb requires a greater effort of abstraction than that of a noun.... -We cannot accept it as even _possible_ that from roots meaning _to -shine_, _to be bright_, names were formed for _sun_, _moon_, _stars_, -&c.... In some places, indeed, Professor Müller appears to hold the -correct view, that at first ‘roots’ stood for any and every part of -speech, just as the monosyllabic expressions of children do” (_Chapters -on Language_, pp. 196, 197; see, also, some good remarks on the subject -by Sir Graves Haughton, _Bengali Grammar_, p. 108). - -[190] “Standst du dabei, als sich der Brust des noch stummen Urmenschen -der erste Sprachlaut entrang? und verstandst du ihn? Oder hat man -dir die Urwurzeln jener ersten Menschen vor hundert tausend Jahren -überliefert? Sind das, was du als Wurzeln hinstellst, und was wirklich -Wurzeln sein mögen, auch Wurzeln der Urzeit, unveränderte Reflexlaute? -Sind jene deine Wurzeln älter als sechstausend, als zehntausend Jahre? -und wie viel mögen sie sich in den früheren Jahrzehntausenden verändert -haben? wie mag sich ihre Bedeutung verändert haben?” (Steinthal, -_Zeits. b. Volkerpysch. u. Sprachwiss._, 1867, s. 76). - -[191] _Supra_, p. 68, _et seq._ - -[192] _Ursprung der Sprache_, s. 74. To the same effect, and from -the side of psychology, I may quote Wundt:—“Oft hat man desshalb in -der Sprache einen Ubergang vom Abstrakten zum Konkreten zu finden -geglaubt, weil dieselbe thatsächlich zunächst umfassendere, dann -individuellere Vorstellungen bezeichnet und erst zuletzt wieder die -Namen individueller Objekte zu Gemeinnamen stempelt. Aber was am Anfang -dieser Reihe liegt ist etwas ganz anderes als was den Schluss derselben -bildet: Gemeinnamen sind wirkliche Zeichen für Allgemeinvorstellungen -und Begriffe. Jene ersten Vorstellungen, welche das Bewusstsein bildet -und die Sprache ausdrückt, sind nicht _Allgemein_vorstellungen sondern -_umfassende_ Vorstellungen. Beides ist wesentlich aus einander zu -halten” (_Vorlesungen, &c._, ii. 382). The passage then proceeds to -discuss the psychology of the subject. - -[193] _Introduction, &c._, ii. 5, 6. - -[194] And even as regards this minority (such as “to be,” “to think,” -“to do,” &c.), we must remember an important consideration on which -Geiger bestows a number of excellent pages. Briefly put, this -consideration is that the offspring of words are everywhere proved -to have progressively changed their meanings by successive steps and -in divergent lines: applying this general law to the case of roots, -it follows that the oldest meaning which philology is able to trace -as expressed by a root, need not be anywhere near the meaning which -attached to its remoter parents: the latter may have been much less -conceptual. - -[195] Professor Max Müller says in one place, “The Science of Language, -by inquiring into the origin of general terms, has established two -facts of the highest importance, namely, first, that all terms were -originally general; and, secondly, that they could not be anything -but general” (_Science of Thought_, p. 456). Elsewhere, however, he -says, “Although during the time when the growth of language becomes -historical and most accessible, therefore, to our observation, the -tendency certainly is from the general to the special, I cannot -resist the conviction that before that time there was a pre-historic -period during which language followed an opposite direction. During -that period roots, beginning with special meanings, became more and -more generalized, and it was only after reaching that stage that they -branched off again into special channels” (_ibid._, pp. 383, 384). -Again, in his earlier work on the _Science of Language_ (vol. i., -pp. 425-432), he argues in favour of terms having been aboriginally -general. It will thus be seen that with reference to this question he -is not consistent. Touching the first of his doctrines above quoted, -Geiger pertinently observes that against such a conclusion there lies -the obvious absurdity, that if a language were to consist exclusively -of general terms, it would be _ipso facto_ unintelligible to its own -speakers; “for what hope could there be of any mutual understanding -with a language comprising only such words as “to bind,” “to sound,” -&c.? (_Ursprung der Sprache_, s. 16). Clearly, Professor Max Müller’s -difficulties regarding this subject are quite imaginary, and would -disappear if he were to entertain the natural alternative that there is -no reason to suppose aboriginal words were exclusively restricted to -being either special or general—_i.e._ generic. - -[196] Bunsen, _Philosophy of Universal History_, ii. 131. - -[197] Professor Max Müller in all his works; but it is observable that -his opposition to what he calls the “bow-wow and pooh-pooh theory” was -more strenuous in his earlier publications than it is in his later. - -[198] It is needless to say that innumerable instances might be quoted -of this metaphorical change in the meanings of words, even in existing -languages,—so much so, indeed, that, as Richter says, all languages -are but dictionaries of forgotten metaphors. For example, there is -a single Hebrew word of three letters which may bear any one of the -following significations:—to mix, to exchange, to stand in place of, -to pledge, to interfere, to be familiar, to disappear, to set, to do -a thing in the evening, to be sweet, a fly or beetle, an Arabian, a -stranger, the weft of cloth, the evening, a willow, and a raven. (See -Farrar, _Chapters on Language_, p. 229. He adds, “Assuming that all -these significations are ultimately deducible from one and the same -root, we see at once the extent to which metaphor must have been at -work.” For further examples of the same principle, see _ibid._, pp. -234, 251, 252.) - -[199] _Science of Thought_, pp. 317, 318. - -[200] Or, as Heyse puts it, many onomatopœias are not “old fruitful -roots of language, but modern inventions which remain isolated in -language, and are incapable of originating any families of words, -because their meaning is too limited and special to admit of a -manifold application” (_System_, s. 92, quoted by Farrar, _Chapters on -Language_, p. 152, who also shows that words of onomatopoetic origin -are not invariably sterile. When such origin is not so remote as to -have become wholly obscured by a widely connotative extension, it -does remain possible to trace its progeny through areas of smaller -extension). - -[201] “Nichtsdestoweniger bleibt es eine wichtige psychologische -Thatsache, dass die Laute einen onomatopoetischen Werth haben, dass -wir diesen Werth heute noch fühlen. Nur ist dieses Gefühl nicht sicher -genug, um als wissenschaftlicher Beweis zu gelten, wie es denn auch bei -den verschiedenen Racen verschieden ist. Die Sprachen der mongolischen -Race haben zur Bezeichnung von Naturereignissen viele Onomatopöien, -welche wir nicht mitfühlen. Und das ist weder zu verwundern, noch ist -es ein Beweis gegen die geistige Einheit des Menschengeschlechtes. Das -Gefühl wird ja vielfach durch Associationen der Vorstellungen bestimmt. -Andere Associationen aber walten im Kaukasier, andere im Mongolen” -(_Zeits. b. Volkerpsych. u. Sprachwissen._, 1867, s. 76). - -[202] _Introduction, &c._, i., p. 108. He points out that “_bilbit_, -_glut-glut_, and _puls_, are all attempts to represent the same sound.” - -[203] _Chapters on Language_, p. 154. - -[204] _Ueber Namen des Donners_, 1855. - -[205] Steinthal’s _Zeitschrift_, &c. - -[206] Professor Max Müller has argued that in the Indo-European -languages the apparently onomatopoetic words signifying “thunder” are -derived from the root _tan_, to “stretch,” and therefore were not of -imitative origin. But Farrar has satisfactorily met this objection, -even as regards this one particular case, by showing that even if not -originally onomatopoetic, these words afterwards “became so from a -feeling of the need that they should be” (_Origin of Language_, p. 82). -See also, _Chapters on Language_, pp. 178-182; Heyse, _System_, s. 93; -and Wundt, _Vorlesungen, &c._, ii. 396. - -[207] See also Nodier, _Dictionnaire des Onomatopées_; and Wedgwood, -_Dictionary of English Etymology_. - -[208] Probably the explanation of this apparent inconsistency is to be -found in the fact that Noiré’s special version of the onomatopoetic -theory comes within easy distance of a hypothesis which Max Müller had -himself previously sanctioned. This hypothesis, originally propounded -by Heyse in his _System der Sprachwissenschaft_, is that, just as -every inorganic substance in nature gives out a particular sound when -struck—metal one sound, wood another, stone another, &c.—so different -animals have inherent tendencies (or “instincts”) to emit distinctive -sounds. In the case of primitive man this inherent tendency was in the -direction of articulate speech. For my own part, I do not see that this -theory explains anything; and therefore agree with Geiger, who says of -it:—“Die Annahme eines jetzt erloschenen Vermögens der Sprachschöpfung -und die damit zusammenhängende von einem vollkommenen Urzustande des -Menschen ist eine Zuflucht zum Unbegreiflichen, und nicht weit von dem -Eingeständnisse entfernt, dass es uns der Natur der Dinge nach für -immer unmöglich sei, den wahren Sinn der Urwurzeln zu erkennen und den -Vorgang des Sprachursprunges zu erklären. Wir würden mit einer solchen -Annahme auf einen mystischen Standpunkt zurückgeführt sein, da doch -schon Herder das ‘Gespenst vom Wort Fähigkeit’ bekämpft und gesagt -hat: ‘Jch gebe den Menschen nicht gleich plötzlich neue Kräfte, keine -sprachschaffende Fähigkeit, wie eine willkürliche qualitas occulta’” -(_Ursprung der Sprache_, s. 24). Sayce, also, well remarks of this -hypothesis, “It really rests upon an _a priori_ conception of the -origin of speech, which is neither borne out by linguistic facts nor -easily intelligible.... Such a theory of language is plainly mystical” -(_Introduction to Science of Language_, vol. i., pp. 66, 67). - -[209] _Encyclo. Brit._, art. “Philology,” vol. xviii., p. 769. - -[210] See, for instance, Farrar, _Chapters on Language_, p. 184. - -[211] See above, pp. 138-144. - -[212] See above, pp. 121, 122. - -[213] See _Vorlesungen, &c._, ii. 394, 395. - -[214] See above, pp. 132-136. - -[215] _Introduction to the Science of Language_, ii. 302. - -[216] See above, pp. 138-143. - -[217] _Der Ursprung der Sprache_, s. 31. His own answer to the -question is as follows:—“Sind die Wörter Produkte der Natur order der -Willkür? Beides und beides nicht. Kein Wort hat naturnothwendig seine -bestimmte Bedeutung; insofern sind sie alle willkürlich: aber keines -ist zu seiner Bedeutung durch menschliche Willensthätigkeit gekommen” -(_ibid._, s. 113). - -[218] Schelling, _Einl. in die Philos. d. Mythologie_, s. 51. - -[219] _Anthropologie der Naturvölker_, i., 272. See also, F. Müller, -_Grundriss der Sprachwissenshaft_, I. i. 49. - -[220] _Science of Language_, ii. 91, 92. - -[221] _Grund. d. Sprachwiss._, i., 43. - -[222] _Ægypten_, i. 324. - -[223] Sayce, _Introduction, &c._, i. 119, 120. - -[224] _Science of Thought_, 423-440. - -[225] Sayce, _Introduction, &c._, i. 111. - -[226] _Ibid._, i. 113, 114. - -[227] Sayce, _Introduction, &c._, i. 121. - -[228] _Science of Thought_, p. 242. - -[229] Garnett, _Philolo. Essays_, p. 87. - -[230] _Ibid._, 77, 78. - -[231] Farrar, _Origin of Language_, p. 99. The passage continues, -“We might have conjectured this from the fact already noticed, that -children learn to speak of themselves in the third person—_i.e._ -regard themselves as objects—long before they acquire the power of -representing their material selves as the instrument of an abstract -entity.” He also alludes to “some admirable remarks to this effect in -Mr. F. Whalley Harper’s excellent book on the _Power of Greek Tenses_;” -and recurs to the subject in his more recently published _Chapters on -Language_, p. 62. I could quote other authorities who have commented -upon this philological peculiarity of early pronouns; but will only -add the following in order to show how the peculiarity in question may -continue to survive even in languages still spoken. “The Malay _ulun_, -‘I,’ is still ‘a man’ in Lampong, and the Kawi _ugwang_, ‘I,’ cannot -be separated from _nwang_, ‘a man’” (Sayce, _Introduction_, ii. 26). -Lastly, Wundt has pointed out that this impersonal form of speech is -distinctive, not only of early pronominal elements, but also of early -forms of predication. For instance, “Die ersten Urtheile, die in das -Bewusstsein hereinbrechen, _subjektlose_ Urtheile sind, und dass die -Prädikate derselben stets eine sinnliche Vorstellung ausdrücken. ‘Es -leuchtet es glänzt, es tönt,’—solcher Art sind die Urtheile, die -der Mensch zuerst denkt und zuerst ausspricht. Jenes Prädikat, dass -sogleich bei der Wahrnehmung eines Gegenstandes sich aufdrängt, wird -zur Bezeichnung des Gegenstandes selber. ‘Das Leuchtende, Glänzende, -Tönende,’—solcher Art find die Wörter, die ursprünglich in der Sprache -gebildet werden” (_loc. cit._, ii. 377). - -[232] _Science of Thought_, p. 221. - -[233] _Ibid._, p. 554. - -[234] _Ibid._, 241. - -[235] Sayce, _Introduction, &c._, ii. 25; see also to the same effect, -Bleek, _Ursprung der Sprache_, 70-72; F. Müller, _Grundriss der -Sprachwissenshaft_, I., i., s. 40; and Noiré, _Logos_, p. 186. The -chief ground of this scepticism is that it is difficult to conceive how -a word could ever have gained a footing if it did not from the first -present some independent predicative meaning. But it seems to me that -the force of this objection is removed if we remember the sounds which -are arbitrarily invented by young children and uneducated deaf-mutes, -not to mention the inarticulate clicks of the Bushmen. Moreover, there -is nothing inimical to the pronominal theory in the supposition that -pronominal elements, even of the most aboriginal kind, were survivals -of still more primitive sentence-words—a supposition which would of -course remove the difficulty in question. But, as explained in the -text, this difficulty, even if it could not be thus met, would really -not be one of any importance to my exposition. - -[236] _Introduction, &c._, i. 117. - -[237] _Introduction, &c._, ii. 301. Or, as Wundt puts it, “Die -demonstrative Wurzel ist daher eine demonstrirende Pantomime in einen -Laut übersetzt” (_Vorlesungen, &c._, ii. 392). - -[238] Sayce, _Introduction, &c._, i. 415. See also F. Müller, _loc. -cit._, I. i. 2, p. 2, for another statement of the same facts referred -to by Sayce. - -[239] Sayce, _Introduction, &c._, i. 416. - -[240] Sweet, _Words, Logic, and Grammar_, in _Trans. Philo. Soc._, -1867, p. 493. - -[241] _Science of Thought_, p. 442. - -[242] See especially Garnett, _On the Nature and Analysis of the Verb_. - -[243] _Science of Thought_, p. 223. - -[244] _Ibid._, p. 442. - -[245] Sayce, _Introduction, &c._ - -[246] I refer the reader to what is said on both these aspects of the -verb in question by my opponents (see pp. 165-167.) - -[247] Farrar, _Origin of Language_, pp. 105, 106. - -[248] Garnett, _On the Nature and Analysis of the Verb_, _Proc. Philo. -Soc._, vol. iii. - -[249] Sayce, _Introduction, &c._, i. 415. - -[250] Geiger, _Development of the Human Race_, English trans., p. 22. - -[251] Sweet, _Words, Logic, and Grammar_, in _Trans. Philol. Soc._, -1876, pp. 486, 487. - -[252] Sweet, _loc. cit._, pp. 489, 490. - -[253] Bleek, _Ursprung der Sprache_, s. 69, 70. - -[254] _Science of Thought_, p. 241. - -[255] Steinthal, _Charakteristik, &c._, 165, 173. - -[256] Garnett, _Philological Essays_, p. 310. - -[257] _Ibid._, p. 311. - -[258] _Ibid._, p. 312. - -[259] _Ibid._, p. 314. - -[260] See Chapter on Speech, p. 166. - -[261] I may remark that it was Aristotle who first fell into the error -of identifying the copula with the verb _to be_, by which it happens -to be expressed in Greek. For many centuries afterwards this error -was a fruitful source of endless confusions; but it is curious to -find a wholly new fallacy springing from it in the latter half of the -nineteenth century. Touching the subject and predicate, Aristotle, of -course, never contemplated any more primitive relation between them -than that which obtained in the only forms of speech with which he -was acquainted. As regards his “categories” the following remarks by -Professor Max Müller are worth quoting:— - -“These categories, which proved of so much utility to the early -grammarians, have a still higher interest to the students of the -science of language and thought. Whereas Aristotle accepted them simply -as the given forms of predication in Greek, after that language had -become possessed of the whole wealth of its words, we shall have to -look upon them as representing the various processes by which those -Greek words, and all our own words and thoughts, too, first assumed -a settled form. While Aristotle took all his words and sentences as -given, and simply analyzed them in order to discover how many kinds of -predication they contained, we ask how we ever came into possession of -such words as _horse_, _white_, _many_, _greater_, _here_, _now_, _I -stand_, _I fear_, _I cut_, _I am cut_. Anybody who is in possession -of such words can easily predicate, but we shall now have to show -that every word by itself was from the first a predication, and that -it formed a complete sentence by itself. To us, therefore, the real -question is, how these primitive sentences, which afterwards dwindled -away into mere words, came into existence. The true categories, in -fact, are not those which are taught by grammar, but those which -produced grammar, and it is these categories which we now proceed to -examine” (_Science of Thought_, p. 439). - -[262] Sayce, _Introduction, &c._, ii. 229. He adds, “Had Aristotle been -a Mexican, his system of logic would have assumed a wholly different -form.” - -[263] _Introduction, &c._, i, 15. - -[264] In these considerations I find myself able largely to reconcile -what has always been regarded as a contradiction between the views -of Professor Whitney and those of other philologists on the subject -of sentence-words. Partly following Schleicher—who maintains the -doctrine still more unequivocally—he regards the word as having -been historically prior to the sentence. This, of course, is in -contradiction to the doctrine of the sentence having been historically -prior to the word, which, as we have seen, is the doctrine now held -by philologists in general. But, now, what the latter doctrine -really amounts to is, that words were sentences before they were -names—predicative before they were nominative; and, as I understand -it, Whitney’s objection to this doctrine is really raised on grounds of -psychology. If so, the above considerations show that he is perfectly -right. Intellectually, primitive man was fully capable of acquiring the -use of words as names; and, therefore, psychologically considered, it -was only an accident of social environment which prevented him from so -doing. - -[265] _Science of Thought_, pp. 432, 433. - -[266] Pp. 281, 282, note. - -[267] _Ursprung der Sprache_, s. 65. For the original German, see the -passage as previously quoted on page 273, note. - -[268] As pointed out in a previous chapter, curious ambiguity attaches -to this term. For, as used in biology, it means the _hitherto -undifferentiated_, while in psychology and elsewhere a “generalization” -means the _synthetically integrated_. But, as psychologists never speak -of ideas as “generalized,” I here use the word in its biological sense. -See also above, pp. 277-280. - -[269] _Ursprung der Sprache_, s. 69, 70. - -[270] Bleek entertains no doubt on this point. - -[271] Compare also close of Chapter VII. (pp. 138-144), where the -children mentioned by Dr. Hale are shown to have adopted the syntax of -gesture-language in their spontaneously devised spoken language. - -[272] Chapter VI., pp. 114-120. - -[273] _Sign-Language, &c._, p. 284. On page 352, this writer further -supplies a most interesting comparison between gesture and spoken -language as both are used by the North American Indians—showing that -the syntax in the two cases is identical. - -[274] Whitney, _Encyclo. Brit._, _loc. cit._, p. 770. It is interesting -to note that the psychological importance of this principle was clearly -enunciated by Locke:—“It may lead us a little towards the original -of all our notions and knowledge, if we remark how great a dependence -our words have on common sensible ideas; and how those which are made -use of to stand for actions and notions quite removed from sense, have -their rise from thence, and from obvious sensible ideas are transferred -to more abstruse significations, and made to stand for ideas that come -out under the cognizance of our senses” (_Human Understanding_, iii. i. -5). - -[275] Whitney, _Encyclo. Brit._, p. 770. See also Nodier, _Notions de -Linguistique_, p. 39; Garnett, _Essays_, p. 89; Grimm, _Gesch. d. d. -Sprache_, s. 56 _et seq._; Pott, _Metaphern vom Leben, &c._, _Zeitschr. -fur Vergl. Sprachf. Jahrg._, ii., heft 2; Heyse, _System, &c._, s. 97; -and Farrar, _Origin of Language_, 130; _Chapters on Language_, pp. 67, -133, 204-246. He refers to the above, and quotes the following passages -from Emerson and Carlyle:—“As the limestone of the Continent consists -of infinite masses of shells of animalcules, so language is made up -of images and tropes, which now, in their secondary use, have long -ceased to remind us of their poetic origin” (_Essays on the Poets_). -“Language is the flesh-garment of Thought. I said that Imagination wore -this flesh-garment; and does she not? Metaphors are her stuff. Examine -Language. What, if you except a few primitive elements of natural -sound, what is it all but metaphors recognized as such, or no longer -recognized; still fluid and florid, or now solid-grown and colourless? -If those same primitive elements are the osseous fixtures in the -flesh-garment of Language—then are metaphors its muscles, its tissues, -and living integuments. An unmetaphorical style you shall in vain -seek for: is not your very _attention_ a _stretching-to_?” (_Sartor -Resartus_, ch. x.). - -[276] _Science of Thought_, p. 329. - -[277] _Science of Language_, p. 123. - -[278] _Logos_, p. 258, _et seq._ - -[279] Geiger, _Address delivered before the International Congress for -Archæology and History at Bonn_, 1868. - -[280] Geiger, _A Lecture to the Commercial Club of -Frankfort-on-the-Main_ (1869). - -[281] Perhaps the most interesting department of fundamental metaphor -is that wherein the metaphor is found by philological research to -have reference, not to any natural object, quality, &c., but to a -pre-existing action or gesture as already made by man himself for the -purpose of conveying information, expressing his emotions, &c. For -fundamental metaphor of this kind obviously brings us within seeing -distance of the time when the audible signs of articulations were born -of the visible signs of gesture and grimace. In illustration of this -branch of our subject I will only quote one passage; but the reader -will at once perceive how easy it would be to furnish many other -instances from the etymology of words now in habitual use. - -“The further a language has been developed from its primordial roots, -which have been twisted into forms no longer suggesting any reason -for their original selection, and the more the primitive significance -of its words has disappeared, the fewer points of contact can it -retain with signs. The higher languages are more precise because the -consciousness of the derivation of most of their words is lost, so that -they have become counters, good for any sense agreed upon and for no -other. - -“It is, however, possible to ascertain the included gesture even in -many English words. The class represented by the word _supercilious_ -will occur to all readers, but one or two examples may be given not -so obvious and more immediately connected with the gestures of our -Indians. _Imbecile_, generally applied to the weakness of old age, -is derived from the Latin _in_, in the sense of on, and _bacillum_, -a staff, which at once recalls the Cheyenne sign for _old man_ -[previously mentioned]. So _time_ appears more nearly connected -with [Greek: teinô], to stretch, when information is given of the -sign for _long time_, in the Speech of Kin Chē-ĕss, in this paper, -namely, placing the thumbs and forefingers in such a position as if -a small thread was held between the thumb and forefinger of each -hand, the hands first touching each other, and then moving slowly -from each other, as if _stretching_ a piece of gum-elastic” (Mallery, -_Sign-Language, &c._, p. 350). This writer also says, with reference -to the uncivilized languages which he has specially studied, “In the -languages of North America, which have not become arbitrary, to the -degree exhibited by those of civilized man, the connection between -the idea and the word is only less obvious than that still unbroken -connection between the idea and the sign, and they remain strongly -affected by the concepts of outline, form, place, position, and feature -on which gesture is founded, while they are similar in their fertile -combination of radicals. Indian language consists of a series of -words that are but slightly differentiated parts of speech following -each other in the order suggested in the mind of the speaker without -absolute laws of arrangement, as its sentences are not completely -integrated. The sentence necessitates parts of speech, and parts of -speech are possible only when a language has reached that stage where -sentences are logically constructed. The words of an Indian tongue, -being synthetic or undifferentiated parts of speech, are in this -respect strictly analogous to the gesture elements which enter into -a sign-language. The study of the latter is therefore valuable for -comparison with the words of the former. The one language throws much -light upon the other, and neither can be studied to the best advantage -without a knowledge of the other.” - -[282] There are certain writers, such as Du Ponceau, Charlevoix, -James, Appleyard, Threlkeld, Caldwell, &c., who have sought to -represent that the languages of even the lowest savages are “highly -systematic and truly philosophical,” &c. But this opinion rests on -a radically false estimate of the criteria of system and philosophy -in a language. For the criteria chosen are exuberance of synonyms, -intricacies or complications of forms, &c., which are really works -of a low development. The fallacy is now acknowledged to be such -by all philologists. Even Farrar, who at first himself fell into -this error (_Origin of Language_, p. 28), in his subsequent work -writes:—“Further examination has entirely removed this belief. For -this apparent wealth of synonyms and grammatical forms is chiefly due -_to the hopeless poverty of the power of abstraction_. It would not -only be no advantage, but even an impossible encumbrance to a language -required for literary purposes. The transnormal character of these -tongues only proves that they are the work of minds incapable of all -subtle analysis, and following in one single direction an erroneous -and partial line of development.... If language proves anything, it -proves that these savages must have lived continuously in a savage -condition” (Farrar, _Chapters on Language_, pp. 53, 54, who also refers -to numerous authorities). - -[283] The term “conception” here is, of course, equivalent to my term -“pre-conception.” When my daughter uttered her first denotative word -“star,” she was, indeed, bestowing a name; but it was the name of a -recept, not of a concept. - -[284] Farrar, _Chapters on Language_, pp. 198, 199. - -[285] _Mithridates_, iii. 325, 397. See also Pott, _Etym. Forsch._, ii. -167; and Heyse, _System_, 132. - -[286] Latham, _Races of Man_, p. 376. - -[287] Quatrefages, _Rev. des Deux Mondes_, Dec. 15, 1860; Maury, _La -Terre et l’Homme_, p. 433. - -[288] _Mem. sur le Syst. Gram., &c._, p. 120. - -[289] _Malay Grammar_, i., p. 68, _et seq._ - -[290] _Journl. Ameri. Orient, Soc._, i. No. 4, p. 402. - -[291] Casalis, _Grammar_, p. 7. - -[292] Pickering, _Indian Languages_, p. 26. - -[293] _Vocabulary of the Dialects of some of the Aboriginal Tribes of -Tasmania_, p. 34. - -[294] _Introduction, &c._, vol. ii., p. 6. - -[295] _Ibid._, vol. i., p. 379. - -[296] _A Lecture delivered at Frankfort_, 1869. - -[297] _Science of Thought_, p. 245. - -[298] _Essays_, p. 89. - -[299] _Chapters on Language_, p. 133. - -[300] Herder, _Abhandl._, s. 122. - -[301] _Das Leben der Seele_, ii. 47. - -[302] _Grundriss der Sprachwissenschaft_, i. 35, 36. - -[303] See, for example, F. Müller, _loc. cit._, i. 36, 37. - -[304] Some of the supporters of the interjectional theory in this -extreme, not to say extravagant form, appear to go on the assumption -that primitive and hitherto speechless man already differed from the -lower animals in presenting conceptual thought. This assumption would, -of course, explain why man alone began to invest his instinctive cries, -&c., with the character of names. But, from a psychological point of -view, any such assumption is obviously a putting of the cart before -the horse. I make this remark in order to add that the objection would -not apply if the ideation were supposed to be _pre-conceptual_—_i.e._ -beyond the level reached by any brute, though not yet distinctively -human. Later on, I myself espouse a theory to this effect. - -[305] _E.g._ by Mr. Ward, in his _Dynamical Sociology_. - -[306] Differences of opinion are entertained by philologists concerning -the value of “nursery-language,” or “baby-talk,” as a guide to the -probable stages of language-growth in primitive man. Without going into -the arguments upon this question on either side, it appears to me that -the analogy as above limited cannot be objected to even by the most -extreme sceptics upon the philological value of infantile utterance. -And it is only to this extent that I anywhere use the analogy. - -[307] For cases, see Heinieke, _Beobachtungen über Stumme_, s. 137, &c. - -[308] _Ibid._, s. 73. - -[309] _Mental Evolution in Animals_, p. 238. - -[310] The carnivorous habits of this animal (which is named as a new -species) are most interesting. It is surmised that in its wild state -it must live upon birds; but in the Zoological Gardens it is found to -show a marked preference for cooked meat over raw. It dines off boiled -mutton-chops, the bones of which it picks with its fingers and teeth, -being afterwards careful to clean its hands. It mixes a little straw -with the mutton as vegetables, and finishes its dinner with a dessert -of fruits. But a more important point is that this animal answers its -keeper in vocal tones—or rather grunts—when he speaks to it, and -these tones are understood by the keeper as indicative of different -mental states. I have spent a great deal of time in observing this -animal, but the publicity and other circumstances render it difficult -to do much in the way of experiment or tuition. With regard to teaching -her to count, see above, p. 58; and with regard to her understanding of -words, p. 126. - -[311] “If there once existed creatures above the apes and below man, -who were extirpated by primitive man as his especial rivals in the -struggle for existence, or became extinct in any other way, there is -no difficulty in supposing them to have possessed forms of speech, -more rudimentary and imperfect than ours” (Professor Whitney, Art. -_Philology_, _Ency. Brit._, vol. xviii., p. 769). - -[312] Houzeau gives a very curious account of his observations on this -subject in his _Facultés Mentales des Animaux_, tom. ii., p. 348. - -[313] _Descent of Man_, p. 87. - -[314] _Descent of Man_, p. 87. - -[315] This term is used by Haeckel as synonymous with -_Pithecanthropoi_, or the ape-like men, who are supposed to have -immediately preceded _Homo sapiens_ (_History of Evolution_, English -trans., vol. ii., p. 293). In the next instalment of work I will -consider what has to be said in favour of this view from the side of -my anthropology. Meanwhile, it is sufficient to bear in mind that, as -previously stated, great as is the psychological difference introduced -by the faculty of speech, for the attainment of this faculty anatomical -changes so minute as to be imperceptible were all that seem to have -been required. “The argument, that because there is an immense -difference between a man’s intelligence and an ape’s, therefore there -must be an equally immense difference between their brains, appears -to me to be about as well based as the reasoning by which one should -endeavour to prove that, because there is a ‘great gulf’ between a -watch that keeps accurate time and another that will not go at all, -there is therefore a great structural hiatus between the two watches. -A hair in the balance-wheel, a little rust on a pinion, a bend in a -tooth of the escapement, a something so slight that only the practised -eye of the watchmaker can discover it, may be the source of all the -difference. And believing, as I do, with Cuvier, that the possession of -articulate speech is the grand distinctive character of man (whether -it be absolutely peculiar to him or not), I find it very easy to -comprehend, that some equally inconspicuous structural difference -may have been the primary cause of the immeasurable and practically -infinite divergence of the human from the simian stirps” (Huxley, -_Man’s Place in Nature_, p. 103). - -[316] Here I will ask the reader to bear in mind the considerations -above adduced from Geiger, as to the encouragement which must have -been given to a semiotic use of vocal sounds by habitual attention -being given to the movements of the mouth in significant grimace—such -attention being naturally bestowed in larger measure by an intelligent -ape-like creature which was accustomed to depend chiefly on its sense -of sight, than it would be by any of the existing quadrumana. - -[317] For sign-making among the social insects, see above, pp. 88-95. - -[318] Here, be it observed, the element of truth which belongs to the -first of the three hypotheses that we are considering comes in. Compare -foot-note on page 364: _Homo alalus_, though not yet a conceptual -thinker, is nevertheless in possession of a higher receptual life than -has ever been attained by a brute, and is correspondingly more capable -of utilizing as signs interjectional or other sounds which emanate from -the “purely physiological grounds” of his own organization. - -[319] See Preyer, _loc. cit._, for a detailed account of the order in -which the consonants are developed in the growing child. Also Professor -Holden, on the _Vocabularies of Children_, in _Proc. Amer. Philolo. -Ass._, 1877. There can be no doubt that vowel sounds must have been -of early origin in the race; but in what order the consonants may -have followed is much more doubtful. For different races now exhibit -great differences with regard to the use—and even to the capability -of using—consonantal sounds; the Chinese, for instance, changing _r_ -into _l_, while the Japanese change _l_ into _r_. And, of course, the -whole science of comparative philology may be said to be based upon a -study of the laws of “phonetic change.” But it is obviously a matter -of no importance in what particular order the different articulate -sounds were first evolved. According to Prince Lucien Bonaparte, who -has investigated the matter with much care, the total number of these -sounds that can be possibly made by the human organs of vocalization -is 385. See, also, Ellis, on _Early English Pronunciation_; and, for -the limitation of consonants in various languages of existing races, -Hovelaque, _Science of Language_, English trans., pp. 49, 61, 81. - -[320] “When we remember the inarticulate clicks which still form part -of the Bushman’s language, it would seem as if no line of division -could be drawn between man and beast, even when language is made the -test” (Sayce, _Introduction, &c._, ii., p. 302). - -[321] _Ursprung der Sprache_, s. 52. - -[322] _Introduction, &c._, ii., 302: by “thought” of course he means -what I mean by recepts. - -[323] Here also compare the first of the three hypotheses, the -important elements of truth in which are, as I have already more than -once observed, to be considered as adopted by Mr. Darwin’s hypothesis, -and therefore also by the present one. - -[324] The song of the gibbon has already been alluded to in a -quotation from Darwin. I may here add that the chimpanzee “Sally” not -unfrequently executes an extraordinary performance of an analogous -kind. The song, however, is by no means so “musical.” It is sung -without any regard to notation, in a series of rapidly succeeding howls -and screams—very loud, and accompanied by a drumming of the legs upon -the ground. She will only thus “break forth into singing” after more or -less sustained excitement by her keeper; but more often than not she -refuses to be provoked by any amount of endeavour on his part. - -[325] Compare quotations from the German philologists in support of the -first hypothesis, pp. 361, 362. - -[326] See pp. 288-290. - -[327] _Welt als Entwickelung der Geists_, s. 255. This book, however, -was not published until 1874—_i.e._ some years after the _Descent of -Man_. - -[328] This is likewise the view that was ably supported by Geiger on -philological grounds, _Ursprung der Sprache_, 1869; and by Haeckel on -grounds of general reasoning, _History of Creation_, English trans., -1876. - -[329] “How many of the roots of language were formed in this way it is -impossible to say; but when we consider that there is no modern word -which we can derive from such cries as the sailor makes when he hauls a -rope, or the groom when he cleans a horse, it does not seem likely that -they can have been very numerous” (Sayce, _Introduction, &c._, i., p. -110). - -[330] With regard to the erect attitude, we must remember that, -although the chimpanzee and orang never adopt it, the only other -kinds of anthropoid apes—namely, gorilla and gibbon—frequently do -so when progressing on level surfaces. In the case of the gorilla, -indeed, although the fore-limbs quit the ground and the locomotion -thus becomes bipedal, the body is never fully straightened up; but in -the case of the gibbon the erect attitude may be said to be complete -when the animal is walking. (Huxley, _Man’s Place in Nature_, pp. -36-49). With regard to the selection and use of stones as tools, -Commander Alfred Carpenter, R.N., thus describes the _modus operandi_ -of monkeys inhabiting islands off S. Burmah:—“The rocks at low-water -are covered with oysters. The monkeys select stones of the best shape -for their purpose from shingle of the beach, and carry them to the -low-water mark, where the oysters live, which may be as far as eighty -yards from the beach. This monkey has chosen the easiest way to open -the rock-oyster, namely, to dislocate the valves by a blow on the base -of the upper one, and to break the shell over the attaching muscle” -(_Nature_, vol. xxxvi., p. 53. In connection with this subject see also -_Animal Intelligence_, p. 481). - -[331] See above, p. 220. - -[332] See pp. 220-222. - -[333] See pp. 179-181. - -[334] See above, pp. 300, 301. - -[335] Whitney. - -[336] Sayce. - -[337] Farrar. - -[338] Garnett. - -[339] Sayce. - -[340] Max Müller. - -[341] See especially _Science of Thought_, chaps, ii. and iv. The -following quotations may suffice to justify this statement. “If -once a genus has been rightly recognized as such, it seems to me -self-contradictory to admit that it could ever give rise to another -genus.... Once a sheep always a sheep, once an ape always an ape, once -a man always a man.... What seems to me simply irrational is to look -for a fossil ape as the father of a fossil man.... Why should it be -the settled or ready-made Pithecanthropus who became the father of -the first man, though everywhere else in nature what has once become -settled remains settled, or, if it varies, it varies within definite -limits only? (pp. 212-215).... If the germ of a man never develops into -an ape, nor the germ of an ape into a man, why should the full-grown -ape have developed into a man? (p. 117).... Let us now see what Darwin -himself has to say in support of his opinion that man does not date -from the same period which marks the beginning of organic life on -earth—that he has not an ancestor of his own, like the other great -families of living beings, but that he had to wait till the mammals had -reached a high degree of development, and that he then stepped into the -world as the young or as the child of an ape” (p. 160), &c., &c. So far -as can be gathered from these, and other statements to the same effect, -it does not appear that Professor Max Müller can ever have quite -understood the theory of evolution, even in its application to plants -and animals. For these are not criticisms upon that theory: they are -failures to appreciate in what it is that the theory itself consists. - -[342] _Ursprung der Sprache_, s. 84. - -[343] _Ursprung der Sprache_, s. 119. - -[344] It would be no answer to say that by “names” he means only -signs of ideas which present a conceptual value—or, in other words, -that he would refuse to recognize as a name what I have called a -denotative sign. For the question here is not one of terminology, but -of psychology. I care not by what terms we designate these different -sorts of signs; the question is whether or not they differ from one -another in kind. If the term “name” is expressly reserved for signs -of conceptual origin, it would be no argument, upon the basis of this -definition, to say that there cannot be names without concepts; for, in -terms of the definition, this would merely be to enunciate a truism: it -would be merely to say that without concepts there can be no concepts, -nor, _à fortiori_, the signs of them. In short, the issue is by no -means one as to a definition of terms; it is the plain question whether -or not a non-conceptual sign is the precursor of a conceptual one. And -this is the question which I cannot find that Max Müller has adequately -faced. - -[345] _Ursprung der Sprache_, s. 91. The exact words are, “Die Sprache -hat die Vernunft erschaffen: vor ihr war der Mensch vernunftlos.” It is -needless to observe that the word which I have rendered by its English -equivalent “Reason” is here used in the sense of conceptual thought. - -[346] Wundt, _Vorlesungen, &c._, ii. 282. - - - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Mental Evolution in Man, by George John Romanes - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN *** - -***** This file should be named 50382-0.txt or 50382-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/3/8/50382/ - -Produced by Giovanni Fini, Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe and -the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - |