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Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at different reduction ratios. Those too large to be entirely included in one exposure are filmed beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to right and too to bottom, as many frames as required. The following diagrams illustrate the method: Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent Atre filmis d des taux de reduction diffirents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul clich6, il est filmd A partir de Tangle supirieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images nicessaire. Les diagrammes suivants lllustrent la mithode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 I MENTAL INVOLUTION IN MAN Hn the same Author. Croicn 8z'0. ^s. JELLY-FISH, STAR-FISH, AND SEA- URCHINS. Bein^' a Research on Primitive Nervous Systems. {Intcniational Scieiittfic Sen'.s. Crown 8ro. ^s. ANIMAL INTELLIGENCE Fourth Edition. Ufiterttatioml Scientific Scii.s. Demy 8vo. 12s. MENTAL EVOLUTION IN ANIMALS. Second Thousand. With a Posthumous Essay on Instinct by Charles. Darwin, F.R.S. I.HNDON: Kecan Paul, Trench & Co. Hir:U')j, i 46 4b /&/ 45 45 c> m ' "" 44 44 /i/ 43 43 --K-- .42 42 »s \ w\ / 1"' / 41 4> si t^r 7(5'/ \'2.\ / W/ 40 40 O \A /**/ 39 39 ^ \-»\ /.^I 3S 3>< r\ V\ /f/ n 37 37 36 3b Q \A \^ ^1 a/ 35 35 34 ^ W \> / /o/ 34 -^T- \ \ \~*'\ A / M 33 \^\ X'— \ /'*/ \ \ \o\ /o/ 32 32 __ \"\ \^\/V 3« 3» — ^— r\ V ' / 30 30 O \A ) - / 29 29 28 27 *»» \>\ y^y n 28 Iniletinite morality. Anthropoid Apes and Dog. 15 months. K V\/r/ /? 27 I'se of tools. Monkeys, Cat, and Elephant. 12 months. o \ / z^ 26 1 'mlerstaiulinsj of mechanisms. Carnivora, Rodents, and Ruminants 10 months. 26 ^ \~ / A/ 25 Recognition of Pictures, Understanding of words. Dreaming. Dirds. 8 months. 25 \ « \ A/ 24 Communication of ideas. Hymenoptera. ,«; months. 24 V\ A^ 23 Recognition of persons. Reptiles and Cephalopods. 4 months. n \ V \ \ ^^y 22 Reason. • Higher Crustacia. 14 weeks. 22 \, I.I \ \Ay 21 Association Uy similarity. Fish and Datrachia. 12 weeks. 21 V 20 Recognition of o(1"^prin^', Secondary instincts. Insects and Spiders. 10 weeks. 20 / .^^ 19 Assf)ciation by contiguity. * .Mollusca. 7 weeks. 19* """-— ~~J ) /^^^ 18 Primary instincts. Larva; of lo.sects, Annelida. 3 weeks. 18 I<1 ^. A^>" 17 Memory. •T. Echinodermata, I week. 17 0: .^. N t^ 16 I'loasures and pains. 5 Birth. 16 •" s l.^ 15 ^ 'i Cfelt-nterata. V 15 ^^ :4 ^ Xervons adjustments. '~j 14 1 '3 13 \2 1 Unknown animals. 12 •Uu JI I'artly nervnus adjustim-nts. probably Coelenterata. II ^^ 10 perhaps extinct. \Embryi). 10 1 . 9 9 /*! xn ' o\ 8 \ 8 /4*?7\-°\ 7 Non-nervous adjustments,, Unicellular organisms. 7 Av/ V^'X 6 6 //*y \-.v\ 5 / 5 V s / _\ ^o \ 4 \ 4 ; . / 3 Protoplasmic movemenUs. I Protupl.tsntic organisms. Ovum and 3 1 T A B 1 L 1 T Y . \ 2 2 ^ 1 Spermatozoa 1 ^ , ) ' :■■ 1 '•■-1 S' ^ t»rnris LiTif WC so ~~49 ~47 ~46 ~^ ~~M_ ~1'L —42 ~40 ""■39 -38 -37 ~3S^ -H_ -J3 ~ii -_30 -28 27 26 25 24 — 22 21 ^18 '7 16 IS — 12 II 10 - 8 - 6 n 50 ""!« "44 ~43 ~li 37 I MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN ORIGIN OF HUMAN FACULTY HY GEORGE JOHN ROMANES, M.A., LED., F.R.S. '^ LONDON KEGAX PAUL, TRENCH & CO., i, PATERNOSTER 6(^1' ARE I riu- n^hts 6/{ra„slal!o„ a»,f 0/ rr/roo'.c/u;, .„r r,s.-rrf,f.) PREFACE, Ix 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 Involution 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. ]\Iy 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 after- wards 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 branchc:".. 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, arc matters to be dealt with by others who are severally better qualified for the task, whether their special studies have reference to language, archaeology, 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 evolu- tion, rather than with that of collecting facts or opinions for VI PREFACE. 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 over- come. 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 — dis- proportionate, 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 con- sideration 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 docs not appear to me that this subject-matter has hitherto received at the hands of psychologists any approach to the amount of PREFACE. VH 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 reitera- tion, 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 ins.rumcnts ; and when none arc ready-made to suit his requirements, he has no alternative but to fashion those which ma}'-. To any one who already accepts the general theory of evolution as applied to the human mind, it inay 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 iiave brought steam-engines to break butterflies ; but I must ask such a ..n 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 ihe doctrine of descent, I cannot think that either time or VI 11 FRF. FACE. 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 psychogcncsis throughout the animal kingdom, will re-appcar also in succeeding instal- ments of the work, when it will be continued so as to represent the principal stages of " Mental Evolution in Man." 4 iS, CoRNWAi.i. Terrace, Kf.cf.nt's Pakk, July, iS88. ■»■■■ I CONTENTS -I ' FIAI'THK I. Max axd Brutk II. iDKAS III. Logic of Riccep ts 1\'. L(jGic OF CoNCB:prs V. Languagk VI. Tone and Gksturk VII. Articulation VUl. Relation of Tone and Gesture to Word.s I.X. Speech X. Self-Consciousness XI. The Transition in the Individual XII. Comparative Philologv ... XIII. Roots of Language .. XIV. The Witness of Philologv X\'. The Witness of Philologv-.w;//;///3 '94 2 '3 238 264 294 326 360 390 M MENTAL EVOLUTION LN MAN. CHAPTER I. ^IA\ AND BRUTE. Taking up the problems of psychogenesls where these were left in my previous work, I have m 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. How- ever, 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 psycho- logy. I desire to show that in the one province, as in the other, the light which has been shed by the doctrine of evolu- tion IS of a magnitude which we are now only beginnino- to appreciate ; and that by adopting the theory of continuous development from the one order of mind to the other we are able scientifically .o explain the whole mental constitution of nian, even in those parts of it which, to former generations have appeared inexplicable. In order to accomplish this purpose, it is not needful that 1 should seek to enter upon matters of detail in the applica- tion of those principles to the facts of history. On the contrary, B 2 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. 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 psycho- logy 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 tlie 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 approach- ing. 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 — Knoxu thyself. For he has begun to per- ceive 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 man}' branches are sunk in the abyss of planetary time. Therefore, with Professor Huxley we may say : — " The impor- tance 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 M ■f ified to )f those ace the d leave special psycho- juestion videncc i as wc nk, it is :h is not n within cresting of our ikind is reached as that ^proach- gions of nd that ner the to per- hat his e of all his own each of topmost cm and y time, impor- nanifest. self, the 3ck, due it looks sudden trongly MAN AXD BRUTE. 3 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, fraughc 'ith the deepest consequences, for all who are acquainted with the recent progress of anatomical and physiological sciences." * 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 ha idly say, with all the impartiality of which I am capable, f 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 assumiup; the truth of the general theory of descent so far as the animal kingdom * Man's Place in Nature, p. 59. t It is perhaps desiraljk- tocxi)lain from the first tliat l)y tlic words '■ difference of kind," as used in the aliove paragraph and elsewhere throughout this trealist, I mean dilfcrence of orr^'ut. This is the only real distinction that can be drawn between the tcims " difference of kind " and " difference nf ilegree ; " and I shoulil 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 Saycc, who says, while speaking of the development of huij;iiages from a common source, "differences of degree berome ia time differences of kind " {Introduction to the Science 0/ Language, ii, 309). A 4 MEXTAL EVOLUTION LV MAN. 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 com- parative 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 arc 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 cogeni 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 docs 4 MAN AXD BRUTE. 5 V, it is every ioti a from begins genius, eap of being ;refore, 111 man does I 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 arc 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 theorj', 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 ol 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 un- interruptedly 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 6 MENTAL EVOLUTION- IN MAN. the least, a highly improbable supposition. At all events, it certainly is not the kind of supposition u-hich men of science arc 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 o'i continuity. Taking, then, these sonqxtA a priori considerations together, they must, in my opinion, be fairly held to make out a very strong prima 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 ■*» AfA.V AyD BRUTE. wherein they dififcr. I shall, therefore, here begin by briefly stating the points of agreement, and then proceed more care- fully 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 unquestion- able 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, jealous)-, anger, play, sympathy, emulation, pride, resentment, emotion of the beautiful, grief, hate, cruelty, benevolence, revenge, rage, shame, regret, deceitfulness, emotion of the ludicrous.* 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,! 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 * See Afctital Evolution in Animals, chapter on the Emotions. t Mental Evolution in Animals, p. 159. "The term is a generic one, com- prising all the faculties of mind which arc 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 l)y all individuals of the same species." 8 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IN MAX. 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 arc 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 animaPwill 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, iefinement, and foresight, no one disputes identity of kind. Lastly, the same remark applies to the faculties of Intellect* •I * Of course my opponents will not al'ow that this word can be properly applied to the psychology of any brute. But I am not now using it in a question- \h i MAN AND BRUTE. lect* 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 super- added 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 after- wards 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 iraced 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, 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. 10 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. 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 frcqucntl) 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 pov/ers 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 onlv exhibit the most marvellous fidelity 'and affection, but wilj 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.* Again, the distinction between human and brute i * If i\ny one should be disposed to do so, I can only iciily tn liini in the wonls of Professor Huxley, who puts the case tersely and well :— " What is the value of A/A.V AXD BRUTE. II 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 t ue, 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 jiere 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 words line of lliL' ovulence ^vliiih leads one to believe tint one's fellow-man feels? The only eviileiice in this iULjument from analoi;)' is the similarity of his structure and of his actions to one's own, and if that is gocid enough to prove that one's fellf)\v-inan feels, surely it is good enough to prove that an ape feels," etc. (Cr///i/nfs and ,l(/t/iw./(^, uriieuiau! speech is regarded by us as more "elo(pient" than inarticulate cries and gestures i* 12 MENTAL EVOLUTIOy IX MAN. 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.* 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 pa; t 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 main- tain that science has no voice in cither 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 b)' a Gor^pel could its endowment of immortality have been broughc to light. f Another distinction between the man and the brute which we often find asserted is, that the latter shows no signs of * Of course wheic tlic IcMin Reason is intoiulcd tu signify Inliosiicclivc Thouglit, the above reinaiks do not apply, furilur than to indicate the misuse of tlie term. t I here nej^lect to consider the view of liishop lUitier, 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 psycliolot;y. The dictum of Aristotle and Ihin'on, tliat animals dilTer 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 Malie, which 1 here (juote as presenting some historical interest in relation to tlie theory of natural selection. He says: "Si les aiiimaux n'elaient pas susceptibles d'apprendre les moyens de se conserver, les especes se seraient aneanties." MAX AXD BRUTE. 13 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 recog- nition of the principles of evolution in the history of mankind. But, leaving aside these considerations, I meet the alleged dis- tinction 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 state- ment 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 genera- tion. On the contrary, one of the most generally applicabU" 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 inertia as regards upward movement. L^ven 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 mo:;t 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 Palaeolithic age, referring as the phrase does to a stage of culture, and not to any chronological 14 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. period, is something which has come and gone at very different dates in different parts of the world ; " * 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 extra- ordinarily slow progress during these aions of prehistoric time. Indeed, it was not until the great step had been made of sub- stituting 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 contrarj', 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, ar^ I have said, it is not true that animal species never display any traces of intellectual improve- ment 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, * John Fiske, Excursions of an Evolutionist , pp. 42, 43 {1SS4). M.LV AND BRUTE. IS that lovc- , as ken )uld IBut, 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 a \ 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 docs 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 pur- poses 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 palaeolithic 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 i6 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. and Mr. Mivart on the distinction between the mental endow- ments 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 came 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." * * A'aliiral Schr/wn, p. 343. It will subsequently appear, as a general conse- (pience of our investigation of savage psychology, that of these two opposite n|iinions 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 I luxley : — " The difference in weight of brain between the highest and the lowest man is far greater, b.;ih relatively and absolutely, than that between the lowest man and the higliest 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 anil 66 ounces, the former dilTerence 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 fiimily distinction resting chiefly on his dentition, his jielvcs, and his lower limbs " ( J/a«V Place in Nature, \i, 103). Next, concerning cerebral /"////(//('«, 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 Revie-a\ Oct. 1870, p. 295). After quoting this, Mr. Darwin observes of savage man, "He has inventetl and is able to use various weapons, tools, traps, &c., with which he defends himself, kills or catches prey, and other- MAX AXD BRUTE. 17 ssor k'CSl icst say the Now, I have presented these two opinions side by side be- cause 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 I'rench 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 ob.servation. 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 his ling lysis ight on" rwin uns, hci- •vvise obtains food. He has made rafts or canoes for fishing, or crossing over to nciglibouiinfr fertile islands. He has discovered the art of making fire. . . . These several inventions, by which man in the rudest state has become so pre- eminent, are the direct results of the development of his powers of observation, memory, curiosity, imagination, and reason. I cannot, therefore, understand how it is tliat 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). BMi i8 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. 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."* Touching these views I have only two things to observe. In the first place, they differ toto calo 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 Ouatrefages 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 • The Human Species, English trans., p. 22, £1 ■s- MAX AND BRUTE. 19 to the ct the , in so , facts ognize do not : them pinion, ^ every >bserve. of Mr. he three ction of ogy, far position, rcmisses the next -1 of the cind has i still be does not iority of )th these lether or morality ies which of these not also ice. For morality tellectual, )bviously, red is the that the ■ding 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 con- nection, these special faculties of morality and religion. Such, therefore, is the method that I in. end 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.* * 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 ncjt 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 palaeon- tology, and, therefore, its treatment would be out of place in these pages. Never- theless, 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 ihere ever existed a long series of generations connecting the l)odily 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, exjiressly base their opinion on those grounds of psychology which it is the object of the present treatise to investigate. 20 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. CHAPTER II. IDEAS. * 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 lo-vest 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 * 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, how- ever, try as far as possible to avoid repeating myself, and therefore in the three following chapters I will assume that the reader is .nlieady acquainted with my previous work. Indeed, the argument running tluough the three following chapters cannot be fully appreciated unless their perusal is preceded by that f chapters ix. and x, of Mental Evolution in Animals, i f IDEAS. 21 i h in my id brute nishcs a mmcnse he mind e. It is, cognized It to the aterialist many idcr it in und and think I ot at all at which nd is an ns attain in which I It is now do this, it is I will, how- in the three ed with my following; I by that t 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. "Xor 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, }'et 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 arc 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), wc 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 arc 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." * * Human Understanding, bk. ii., chap, ii., lo, ii. 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 A'no7,'ledge, 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 IJerkeley's critici.im here merely amounts to showing that Locke did not pursue sufliciently far his philosophy of Nominalism. What Lf)cke did was to see, and to state, that a genera] 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 22 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. Here, then, wc 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" vvhich, narrow at first as the space included be- tween 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. I I 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 kind is performed mainly through the agencj of verbal or other conventional signs (as we shall see later on), and it is ovir.g lo a clearer understanding of this process that Realism was gradually varquished 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. IDEAS. 23 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 particu- lar man. Psychologists arc 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 preccption (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 gene- ratcdhy 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 photo- graph, 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 con- stituent 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.* 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 * This simile has been previously used by Mr. Galton himself, and also by Mr. Huxley in his work on Hume. 24 MEXTAL EVOLUTION I.V MAV. 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 t':e time being directed. Even the most individual of object^ 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 qualicies actually, it docs 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. IVIy 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.* This faculty of ideal abstraction furnishes the conditio sine * Hence, the only valid distinction that can he drawn between ahstraction and penernlization is that which has huen drawn hy Ilaniillon, as follows: " Ahstiac- tion consists in concentration of attention iii)on a jiarticular object, or particular quality of an object, and diversion of it from everythiiifj; else. The notion of the y/;7/;v of the desk before nie 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 fif^urc of this particular desk, and not the liy;ure of any other body." Generalization, on the other hand, consists in an ideal IDEAS. 25 M, qua 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 tliroughout this history the develop- ment is a dcvdopnieiit : the faculty of abstraction is every- where the same in kitid. 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 evoyzc/icrc 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. cuinpouiKiing of .al)stractions, " wlicn, comparing a nunibci of ol)JLCts, \vc seize on their rcscml)lances ; when wo concentrate our attention on these points of similarity. . . . The general notion is tluis one wliich makes us know a quality, property, power, notion, rel.uion, in i-hort, any point of view under which we recognize a plurality of objects as a unity." Thus, there may be abstraction witliout generalization ; but inasmuch as abstraction has then to do only with ]iarticulars, this phase o -t is disregarded by most writers on psychology, who therefore employ alistraction and generalization as convertible terms. Mill says, " iiy abstniii I shall always, in Logic proper, mean ihe opposite lii coitcrcle ; by an abstract name the name ol an attribute ; by a concrete name, the name of an object " (/.(',;'/(-, i. g 4). .Such limitation, however, is arbitrary- it being the same kinrds "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 36 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. i I and Concept are applicable to the lands on either side of it. The consequence is that psycholoj^ists 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 oi' 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 Reccpt. This is a term which seems exactly to meet the requirements of the case. For as perception literally means a taking lu/io/ly, and conception a taking together, reception means a taking again. Consequently, a recept is that which is taken again, or a re-cognition of things previously cognised. 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 IDEAS. 37 : of it. school lis that )logists )licable icy all , which y, also 1 cither cept, I ;ictly to literally 'ogcthcr, :ccpt is things of what ly arise similar c mind "^crccives ni[T all cncral cd and Ti pound more or ncss of s which &c., arc e have e active seen to ause in iceiving form a her its ose of binding them up as a bundle of similars, and labelling the bundle with a name. Ikit 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 assoeiatioiis, formed nniitteiitionally as what may be termed imperceived abstraetioiis.* * In this connection I may f|U()te the followinL; very lucid statcmtints from a ])a]ier by the Secretary of tiie \'ietoria Institute, wliich is directed ai,Minst the jjeneral dociriue tliat I am endeavourinjj to advance, /.('. that tiiere is no ilistinc- tion of kind between brute and iiunian ]>sychohigy. "Abstraction aivl j;enerali/ation only iicconie inlellectual when they are utilized by the intellect. A bull is irritated by a red colour, and not by the object of which ledness is a property ; but it would be absurd to say that the bull Voluntarily abstracts the [)henomenon 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 con- tinues : — "Certain f|ualitics 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 rejiroduction 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 toman 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 Com/'cxru/ii'e Psychology, Joitni. Vic. //is/., vol. v., pp. 303, 304, 1870.) In the work of .M. ISinet already alluded to, the distinction in (juestion 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 reccptual) ; while the "fusion" of perceptions which are concerned in an act of reason is performed intentionally {i.e. is conceptual). 38 men: IL EVOLUTION IN MAN. One further remark remains to be addc 1 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 Gof)d-for-eating and Not-good- for-eating are as general to an animal as they arc 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 contcmi)lated by previous writers while dealing with the psychology of generalization : hence the term "general," like the term "abstract," lias 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 generali- zation which does not depend on language, are the words above given — namely. Complex, Comi^ound, and Mixed. Now, none of these words are so good as the word General, because none of them express the notion of genus or chxss ; 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 particiihxr and the other genera!. Therefore consistency wouKl dictate that the term "general" should be ap[)lied to all ideas of class or kind, as distinguisiied from ideas of particulars or individuals — irresi)ective of the degree T genera. ity, and irrespective, therefore, of the accident whether or not, qu(^ 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 onler, or b\- speaking of an aiimal as cap.ible of generalizing. A parallel term, however, is needed ; and, thereR)re, I will si)eak of the general w class ideas which are formeil without the aid of language asge>icr,i: Thi.s word has the double advantage of IDEAS. 39 rcteiining a verbal as well as a substantial analof^y with tliC allied term general. Tt also serves to indicate that generic ideas, or rccepts, arc not only idc.is of class or kind, but hr '. hQcn generated from the intcrmi-vLure of individual ideas — i.e. from the blended memories of particular percepts. My nomenclature of ideas, therefore, may be present-. i in a tabular form thus : - I General, Abstract, or Notional = Concepts. Complex, Compound, or Mixed - Recejits, or Gencrir Ideas. Simple, Particular, or Concrete = Memories of I'crcepts.* * Tlic more el;il)orale analysis of Cicrman psychologists has yielded five orders instead of three; namely, n'a/.nti-/i//ii///<^; Aiiiihaiiiiiii^; rorsfc'/Z/ai^ri/, F.rfahnmgsbegriffy and Verstandesbc^riff. But for the purposes of this treatise it is needless to go into these liner distinctions. 40 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. CHAPTER III. LOGIC OF RIXKPTS. \Vk have seen that the great border-land, or terra vicdia, l>ing 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 thi.v border-land is a matter of the highest importance for the purposes of our inquiry. I will, therefore, devote the present cha[)ter to a full consider- ation 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 arc of so comparatively simple a character, are so frequently repeated in observation, and present among -themselves resemblances or analogies so obvions, that the mental images of them run together, as it were, spontaneously, or in accord.mcc with the primar)' laws of merely sensuous association, without recpiir- ing any conscious act of comparison. This is a truth which has been noticed by several previous writers. For instance, I have in this connection alreatly quoted a passage from M. Tainc, and, if necessary, could quote another, wherein he very aptly likens what I have called recepts to the unelaborateil ore out of whicli the metal of a concept is afterwards smelted. And still more to the purjjose is the following passage, which I take from Mr. Sully:— "The more concrete concep^ts, or i:^eneric images, aie formed to a large extent by a pa.\sive process of assimilation. The likeness among dogs, for ex- it I LOGIC OF RECEPTS. 41 »s ample, is so {Treat 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 iX\xil, p. 26S). Willi this criticism, however, I am not concerned. Whether "the many pictures" which the mind thus forms, and blends t(>^;ether into what Locke terms a "compound idea," deserve, when so Mended, to he called "a (general nf)tion " or a "concept" — this is a iptestion of terminology of which I steer clear, by assij^nin^j to such compound ideas the term reeepts, and reserving the term notions, or concei)ts, for compound ideas after they fune I'een naiiteJ, I LOGIC OF RECEPTS. 43 the same distinction is conveyed by Noire 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." * 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 rccopt. Professor Iluxlcy writes : — " An anatomist who occu- pies 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." f Although the use of the word " conception " here is unfortu- nate 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 gencraliza- tion comprised under reccpts 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 * I.osfOi, p. 175, qiKjlocl liy M;i\ Miillor, win) adds :— "The fi)llo\vcrs of Iliune nii^lu possihly louk upon ilic fadcil ima^;cs of our niLMiiDry as alisir.ul ideas. Oui nuMiiory, or, what is often ociually impuilaiil, our oljlivcscence, seems to iheiii alilo lo do what ahstiaclion, as lieikeley shows, never can do ; and und^r its silent sway many an idea, or cluster of iui:h highly iuiportanl elements in ideation, I coin for them tiie dislinclive name of recepts. t L.iJ'i' of Hkiiu; p. 96. 44 MEXTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX. 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 dcsignatctl by a proper name, while the class to which he belongs is designated by a c(jmmon 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 expres- sion 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 prejudging 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 t/uc psychological classification of ideas ; and although, with the exception of that quoted from Mill, no one of the passages si:ows that its writer had before his mind the case of anima intelligence — or perceived the immense importance of Lis statements in relation to the (juestion which we have to consider, — this only renders of more value their independent testimony to the soundness of my classification.* * Stfimlial ami Lazarus, however, in dealing with the problem touching the origin of spoecli, present in an adumbrated fasiiion this doctrine of receptual ideatiiin wilii special reference to animals. l''or instance, La/arus says, " Ks giijl in der gewohnlielien lufalirung kein so einfaches Ding von einfacher HeschaH'en- lieit, (lass wir es (lurch iiuc Sinnesemptindung wahrnehmen kiinnten ; erst aus der Sammlung seiner Ligenscluilten, d. h. erst aus der Vcrbindnug der mchreren i LOGIC 01' RECEPTS. 45 The question, then, wliich we have to consider is whether there is a difference of kind, or only a difference of det^ree, 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 adecjuatc treatment will necessitate somewhat my tep, ages, more hat eas ; Mill, his the the nore my tlic Lptiial Kil.l latfcn- st aus lirercn Mmpfindiinqen crgibt ^\c\\ die IVahrufhinuitg cincs Din<:[cs: erst indem wir die woisse Farlje seller., die Ilarte fuhleii und den sUs.seii (Jcschniack cm[.!lndt'n, crkcnnon wir ein Stiick Ziicker " (Das I.ehi-n der .S'lV/t' (1S57), S, i^ j6) Tliis and other passages in t):e same work follow the teaching of Sieintha! ; '.t;. "I)ie Anschauung von eineni lJii;[,'e i-^t der Complex der siimmtliL-hen l]m|)tindungser- kennlnisse, die wir von einem Dingc hahen . . . die Anschauung ist eine Synthesis, alier eine unniiitelljare, die durch die Kinheit der Seele gegeben 1st." And, f(jllowing both tliese writers, I'ricdrich Midler says, " Diese Sannnlung \md Kinigung der veischiedenen Empfnidungen gemiiss der in den I)int,'cn verbun- denen Kigensehaftcn heisst Anschauung" (^Gntiidriss der Spraih'i'isscnschafl, i. 26). On the other hand, their brother jihilologist, Geiger, strongly objects to this use of the term Aiischixuuir:;, under which, he says, " wird theils etwas von der Sinneswahrnehmuiig gar nicht L'nter>chiedenes verslanden, theils audi ein dunkles lOtwas, welches, ohne dass die liedingungen und Ursaehen zu erkennen sind, die Kinheit der \Vahrnehmungen zu kleineren und grossern Complexen bewirken soil. , . . So dass ich eine solche '>;nthe-.is' ni('hl auch bei dem 'I'hiere ganz ebenso wic bei dem Mensclien voraussetze : ich glaube im (Icgcnlheile, dass es sich niit der Sprache erst entwickelt "' (C'rspruiig der S/ages because they serve to render, in a brief and instructive form, llic diffeient views sshich may be taken on a coni])aralivi]y simple matter owing to the want of well-defined terms. No doubt the use of liie term .InsiliiUfinighy the above writer^, 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 fulne^s, inasmuch as they restrict tlr; powers of non-conceptual "synthesis" to a grou])ing of simple percejitions furnished by different sense-organs, inste" I of extending it to a synthesis of syntheses of perceptions, whether furnished by the same or also by dilTerent senses. ISut these three philologists are all ;f fact the diiiik/es El'i'ns which he complains of his predecessors as importing into the ideation of animals, is an /■'./was which, when br>)Ught out into clearer light, is fraught with the highest importance. For, as we shall sui)se(|ucntly see, it is nothing less than the needful psyciiDJogical condition to the subseijuent develo|)ment both of speech and thought. The term ///i/ivvV/V/cw as used by some German [isychologists is also inclusive of what 1 mean by rece|)tual ideation. Hut as it is also inclusive of conceptual, nothing would here be gained by its adojition. Indeed F. Miiller expressly restricts its meaning to conceptual ideation, for he says, " Alle psychisehen I'rocesse bis cinschliesslich zur Perception lassen sici; ohne Siirache ausfuhreii und vol!- kommeii begreifen, die A)>perception dagegen lusst sich nur an der Hand der Sprache denken " [lac, n't. i. , 29). 46 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. ! ■ t 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 rccepts ; 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 reccpts 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 Reccpts. As argued in my previous work, all mental processes of an adaptive kind are, in their last resort, processes of classifi- cation ; 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, similarl}-, an act of conception is the taking together — or the intentional ////////^ 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.* Consequently, the middle ground of ideation, or the territory occupied by recepts, is concerned with this same process > n 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 Comtc 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 * As staled in a iirevious foot-note, this tiutli is well exhibited by M. Binet, loc, lit. "il LOGIC OF RECEPTS. 47 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,* 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." h"or, on the one hand, " Feelings," have to do primarily with the sentient and emotional side of mental life, as dis- tinguished 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 arc used to express. The logic, there- fore, 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.f 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, wliich, 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 : I. Bind, * The word Logic is ckiived from \6yos, which in turn is derived from Ktyw, to arrange, to lay in order, to pick up, to bind together. t 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 incohercncyjustilies the remark of his follower : — " lieing unable to understand this, I do not criticize it " (Prohs. of Life and Mind, iii., p. 239). The terms in question are also sanctioned by Mill, as shown by the above quotation (p. 42). I u 48 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. 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 com- plementary power of adaptive response." * 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 uncon- sciously judges — that an object, which iiuist either be a bowl or a sphere, is now one and now the other.f From which we * Mental Evolution in Aiii/iials, p. 62. t Special attention, however, may be drawn to the fact tliat tlie term " unconscious judgment " is not metaphorical, hut serves to convey in a technical sense what appears to he the precise psychology of the process. For the dis- tinguishing element of a judgment, in its technical sense, is that it involves an element of Mirf, Now, as Mill umarks, "when a stone lies before mc, F am conscious of certain sensations which I receive from it ; but if I say that these sensations come to me from an external object wliich I perceive, the meaning of these words is, that receiving the sensations, I intuitively believe that an external cause of those sensations exists" {/.fls^ic, 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 l)y judgment of a higher order, and thus we do not end by believing that the bowl is a sphere. Nevert!;-- less, so far as it is dependent on the testimony of our senses, the mind judges I LOGIC OF RECEPTS. 49 lon, 'OUS has the ;om- ough irs to itally gnatc lamcd :al as cnt to IS, and c it is ption. icd the ;idcntal occupy ,t. The d bowl, enough lOut any rouping uncon- bowl or hich we the term a technical •„r the dis- Involves an ■e nic, 1 !^''^ that these meaning of an external ,uch as that y —i.e. the v.ig- |t of a higher Nevert'.v- mind judges gather that all our visual perceptions arc 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 reccpts. If we thus find by experiment that all our perceptions arc 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 sli_<;ht 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 hicjhcr departments of ideational activity. The com- paring, 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 affi)iity between the elementary constituents, that the compound is formed as a consequence erroneously in ]icrceivin,L; the bowl as a sphere. In his work on Illusions, Mr. Sully has shown that illusions of perception arise tliroui;h the menial "application of a rule, valid for the ni.ajority of cases, loan exceptional ease." In other words, an erroneous judi;ment is made by the non-concepiual faculties of perce|)tion — this judgment being formed upon the analogies supplied by [last exjierience. Of course, such an act of merel) perceptual inference is not a jujeclion (or the avoidance of which I have coined tiie terms generic idea and icce|)t. ■"W** -»^-'^'*|^w«** LOGIC OF RECEPTS. 53 to get ;h the I'A'cry ihcd to but at One up the airylug t'dss the them." These facts cannot be ascribed to " instinct," sceinfj that tram-cars could not have been objects of previous experience to the ancestors of the ants ; and therefore the dci^rec of rcceptual inteUij^^encc, or "practical inference," which was displayed is hi^t^hly remarkal)le. Clearly, the insects must have appreciated the nature of these repeated catastrophes, and correctly reasoned out the on'y 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 vcrtebrated animals, bcLjinnini; with some from the writinijs of Leroy, who had more opportunity than most men of studj-ing the habits of animals in a state of nature.* He says of the wolf: — "When he scents a flock within its fold, memory recalls to him the impression of the she[)hcrd and his dog, and balances that of the immediate neighbour- hood 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 usclessness of the attempt. Yet he will seize one of a flock scattered o\cr 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 c.iily have an abstract idea of danger — the precise nature of the trap laid for hiin being unknown. . . . Several nights are harilly sufficient to give hiiri confidence. Though the cause of his suspicions may no longer exist, it is reproduced by memory, and the s-.ipicion is unrenioved. The idea of man is connected with that of an unknowr danger, and makes him distrustful of the fairest appearances." t Leroy also well observes- — "Animals, lilce ourselves, are * In my previous works I have alriMily (luoicd fmts of animal intclli^ji-'ncc narralt'il l)y tins author, hut not any of those whitli I an\ now aliout to use. t Jiitilli^viue 0/ Aniniiils, Knjilisli trans., p. 20. 54 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. forced to make abstractions. A dog which has lost his master runs towards a group of men, by virtue of a general abstract itlea, which represents to him tlie quah'tics possessed in common with these men by his master. 1 le then experiences in succession several less general, but still abstract ideas of sen- sation, until he meets the particular sensation which he seeks," * Again, with regard to the stag, this author writes : — " lie e.vhausts every variety and every design of which the action of night consists. lie has perceived that in thickets, where the passage of his body loaves a strong trace, the dogs follow him artlently, and without any checks ; he therefore leaves the thicket and plunges into the forests where there is no underwood, or else skirts the h'gh-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, inste.id of giving himself up to false security, he avails himself of this respite to invent new artifices to throw them out. lie 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 pressetl he will often drop down in the hope th'at their ardour will carry thein 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. I'Vecpiently the quarry is thus changed, and this artifice is c'.ie the success of which is most certain." f " Often (when not being hunted at all), instead of returning liome in confidence and straightway lying down to rest, he will wander round the spot ; he enters the wood, leaves it, • //'/Y., p. 107. This identical illustr.ation .ippciirs to havi- occurred indopend- ontly l»>lli l'> Mr. I>ai\viii and Mr. l.f-.lic .Slcplicii. All lliosi.' wrilcis ii-.>- the terms "abstract " and " general " as nl)i)vc ; bin, «)f course, ns shown in my last cha|itor, tills is iii be on the scent. Perhaps to some persons it may ap[>ear 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 ; ami all I am now concerned with is to make it certain tiiat in animals there is a logic, be it a logic of recepts only, or likewise what I shall afterwards explain as a logic oi prc- coiucpts. Again, Leroy says of the fox: — "He smells the iron of the trap, and this sensation has become so terrible to him, that it i)revails over every other. If he perceives that the snares become more numerous, he de[)arts to seek a safe neighbourhood. lUit sometimes, grown bold b)' a nearer and oft-repeateil examination, and guided b)' his unerring scent, he manages, witlunit 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. . . . Ihere 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 u • Ibid., p. 39. 56 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. fresh opening, and thus not unficqucntly escapes the snares of the sp(MtsnKin. If a rabbit imprisoned with liim gets caught in one of the snares, or if by any other means one should go off", he infers that the machine has d(Mie its duty, and walks boldly and securely over it." * Lastly, this autlior gives the case, which has since been largely (juoteil — although its source is seldom given — of crows which it is desired to shoot upon their nests, in onler to destroy birds and eggs at the same time. The crows will not return to their nests during da)'light, if they sec any one waiting to shoot them. If, to lull suspicion, a hut is made below the lilf \ I i • //'/(/., p. 30. In the ]irostMit connection, .also, I may riTiT to the cliapter on Iinai^in.iliDii in niv previous wcrk, where stiiuhy illiisirntinns are i;iven of this faiiilly as it occurs in animals ; for wherever ima.L^inalion leads to appropriate action, there is evidence of a lof^ic of Kecepis, which in the hij;her levels of ima;^ination, characteiisiic of man, jiasses into a I,oi,mc of Concejits. Since puiiliMhinj; the chapter jiisi alluded to, 1 have received an additional and curious illustralion of the iinafjinative faculty in animals, which I think deserves to be published for i' own sake. Of course wc may see in a ijeneral way that do};s and cats resemble children in tlieir play of " pretending;'" that in- animate objects arc alive, ami this betokens a comparatively hi^li level of the iniai;inative faculty. 'i"he case which I am about to fpiote, however, apjH-ars to show tliat this kind of imaj^inative |>lay may exten/cs, 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 intelli- gence. " To-day he obtained possession of a hearth-brush, one of the kintl which has the hantlle screwed into the brush. lie soon fountl 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 accoihi)lished. At first he put the wrong end of the handle into the hole, but turned it round and round the right way for screwing. I^'inding it did not hold, he turned the otlier end of the handle, carefull)- 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 i)erform, for he recjuired both his hands to hold the haiulle in the proper jiosition, 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. lie held the • I may Iktc observe tli.Tt the earliest ngc in the infant ni wliicli I li.ive observed siuii .npprcci.ition of causality to occur is ilurin^j the sixth month. Wiih my ov.ii ciiildren at that a^e I noticed tliat if I made a knocking; sountl witii my concealed foot, ihey would look round and round the room with an obvious desire to ascertain the cause that was producinjj the sound. Com|)arc, also, Mt'iital /■'.7'o'iition ill Animals, pp. l5^>-IS^i ^^'^ emotions aroase 3-425. 426-436, 445-470. 478-498. LOGIC OF RECEPTS. 63 With all his mij^ht. Evidently the previously strai^^ht line must yield somewhat in the middle, whatever the wcit,^ht f)f the fly, who was, in fact, thereby brought into position F', to the right of the first one and a little higher, licyond this point, it might '^"^ ^ seem, he could w t 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 posi- ■ j tion, and thus spun a new vertical "j i line from c, which was made fast at j '^ the bend at d\ after which a d was ^j F' cast off, so that the fly now hung ^ vertically below c, as Ijefore below a, but a little higher. " The same operation was repeated again and again, a new guy being occasionally spun, but the sjjidcr never descending more than about halfway down the cord, whose elasticity was in no way involved in the process. All was done w ith surprising rapidity. I watched it for some five minutes (during which the fly was lifted perhaps six inches;, and then was called aw ay. 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 shinintr sub- stance smelted from it in the furnace of Langua-re ; 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 sub- stance 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. Never- theless, 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 arc really the same, wc must submit them to a scientific analysis. ICven though it be certain that the one is extracted from the other, there still 64 MENTAL EVOLVTIOX IN MAN. tW. I W I remains a possibility that in tlic melting-pot some further inj^^redicnt may have been added. Human intelliijence is un- doubtedly 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 sn jlting-fire of Language — a fact, be it observed, which is conceded by all inodern writers who deny the genetic ct)ntinuity 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 imi)artially 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. \Vc continually find it assumed, and con- fidently 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 sui)posed to crystallize around iLe 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 arc not able consciously, intentional!}', 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 ///////• about their ideas ixs ideas, or consciously to set one idea before another as two distinct objects of thought, and for the LOGIC OF h'ECtns. r.; thcr un- way but e irt joinc Acnts : will been ;rved, :netic Thus linary terms ; n( st isenlly which ut any in the con- gestion, that objects )Osed to rcepts ; cneral rlicular Now, I I Locke ciously, und and or of quire to one idea d for the kmicii purpose of composition. To do this requires powers of introspective rcllection ; therefore it is a kind of ment.il activity impossible to infants or animals, since it has to do with concc[)ts as distinguished from reccpts. But, as wc have now so fully seen, it docs not fcjllow that because ideas cannot be thus compoundetl by infants or animals intontioiially, there- fore 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 thciiisclves 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 psycho- logist — morecs')ecially in view of the foregoing evidence — will so far dispute tiiis doctrine. But the point now is that, in my opinion, many ps)xhologists have gone astray by assuming that the most primitive order of ideation is concerned only with particulars, or that in chronological order the meniory 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. I'or, 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 anal)sis, 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 1- m RlEXT.ll. EVOLUTIoX IX .1/ /.\'. or more iiulividuiil distinctions. Or, if wcj like, wli.it iiftcr- wards become class distinctions, arc at earlier staijes of ideation the only distinctions ; and, tlvrcfore, all the same .".s what arc afterwards individual distinctions. But what follows ? Surel)' that — be it in the individual (n* the race — when these ori^dnally individual distinctions be.:4in to L;fo\v into class distinctions, tiicy leave in the mind an intlelible impress of their fust nativit)- : tliey were the orij^inal recepts of memory, and if they are afterwards slowly differentiated as they slowl>' become orijani/ed into man} particular parts, this does not hiniler that lhrouL;houi the process they never lose their o:•;^^lnic unity : the mind must alwa)*s continue to recoj;ni/.e that the parts which it subscipiently perceived as successi\ely unfoldini,^ from what at fust was kni'Wii only as a whole, are parts which belonj^ to that whole — or, m other words, that the more newl)' obser\ed particulars are mcmbeis of wliat is now perceived as a class. Therefore, I say, on merel}' (X priori ^n-ounds we mi;^ht banish the ,t;ratuitous .statement that the lower the order f)f ideation the more it is concernef! with particular distinctions, or the less with class distinctions. The truth must lie that the more primitive the recepts the 'ar^ir are the class ilistinctions with which they are concerned — provided, of coinse, that this statement is not taken to appl>' be)-ond the reijion of sensuous perception. Accordingly we find, as a matter of fact, both in infants and in animals, that the K)wer the i^ratle of intelligence', the more is that intelligence shnt up to a perception of class distinctions. "We pronounce the word Pitfa before a child in its cradle, at the same time iioinlin^t; to his father. After a little, he in turn lisps the word, and we imaj^ine that he under- stands it in the saiuo sense that we do, or that his father's [irescnce only will recall the word. Not .it all. When another person — that i.s, one similar in appearance, with a lonjj coat, a beard, and loud voice — enters the room, he cal'.s him also J^(tp(i, The name was itidividual ; he has macL it j,feneral. In our case it is applical)le te> (jne person only ; in his, to a class. ... A little boy, a year old, had travelled a .ijood deal HI /j\i/c or h'/.c/:/ IS. ''>; OI iifanls c(;, the f cliis-^ I chiKl \rtcr ii uiulcr- ithcr's .nollu-r co.it, in also ciM-M-;vl. is, l<> ;i )il deal !))• lailwa}'. Tlx' ciif^inc, with its liissiiiiT souiul and smoke, aiul the i;reat iKMse of the tr.iin, struck his attention, and the fust word he lea''ned to pronounce was Fcfcr (cheniin de fer). Then afterwards, a stcain-boat, a coffee-pot with spirit lamp — everythinij^ that hissed or smoked was .', /ufrr* Now, I have quf)led such familiar instances from tl'.is author because he adduces them as proof of the statement that "here there apiKiars a delicacy of impression which is special to man." Without waitin;^ to impure whether this statement is justified by the cvidtiue adduced, or e\en whether the infant has personally distini;uished his father from anions other men at the time w hen he first calls all men by the same name ; it is enough fi)r my present purposes to observe the single "act, that when a child is first able to show us tlic nature of its ideation by means of speech, it furnishes us with ample evidence that this iileation is what I have tenned p,eneric. The dress, the beard, and the voice \^o to form a rccept to which all men arc perceived to correspond : the most striking; peculiarities of a iocomotise are \ividly impressed upon the memor)', so that when anythin^.^ rescmblini; them is met with elsewhere, it is receptually classified as bc- Innninj^ to an object of analogous character. Only much later, when the analjtic powers of perception have t;reatly developed, docs the child beijin lo draw its distitictions with sufficient '•refinement" to perceive that this classification is too cruile — that the resemblances whicii most struck its infant ima'fina- tion were but accidental, ami that they have to be disregarded in fa\()ur of less strik'iiL,' resemblances which were orij;inally altogether unnoticed. lUit althou[;h the process of classifi- cation is thus perpetually under^oin;.,' improvement with advancintj intellijj^ence, from the ver)- first it has been classi- fhiUion — althouLih, of course, thus far only within the region of .sensuous perception. .And similarl)' with retj^ard to animals, it is sufficiently evident from such facts as those already instanced, that the imaj^er)- on w Inch their adaptive action depeniLs is in lar^e measure generic. * r.iiiR', On /nM/ii;imi, I'p. l^"', 17, ■^IMI —gtl I I r)8 MEM A I. EVOLCIIOX i.\ M.\.\\ 'II (icforc, without in nil}' way pi(jiHli;ini( the tiiKstiun as to whether or not there is any radical distinction between a mind thus far [gifted and the conceptual thought of man, I ma)- take it for granted that the ideation of infants is from the first generic; and hence that those psychologists are greatly mistaken who t]iou;^htlessly assume that the forma- tion of class-ideas is a preroj^ative of more atlvanced intelli- gence. No doubt their view of the matter seems jjlausible at first sii;ht, because within the rc^non of concei)tual thouj^ht we know that proj^ress is marked b}' increasin;^' powers of i^i'iu'rixlization — that it is the easiest steps which have to do with the co_tj;nition of particulars ; the more difficult which have Im do with abstractions. Hut this is to confuse recepts with concepts, and so to o\crl'i(ik a distinction between the two f)rders of ^enerali/ation which it is of the first importance to be clear about. A f^cucvic idea is ^^encric because the particular ideas of which it is composed jiresent such obvious points of resemblance that the>' spontaiicoiisly fuse to;jrether in consciousness ; but a i\e>ictnl idea is general for precisely the opposite reason — namelj', because the points of resemblance which it has sci/.ed are ohsnin'ii fV"m immediate percc|)tion, and therefore ccndd never have fused toj^ether in consciousness but for the aid of intentional abstraction, or of tln' power of a mind ktiowingly to deal with its own ideas as iileas. In other words, the kiml of classilicalion .v ith which recepts are concerneil is that which lies nearest to the kind of i hissifiia- tion with which all processes of so-called "intuitive inference" depend — such as mistakin;^ a bowl for a sphen-. Hut the kind of classification with whirh c( ncepts are concerned is that which lies furthest from this purely automatic ^roupinj.; of [lerceptions. Classification there /fs~\\\\'u:\\ have been uniforml>- encounleretl by tli mind in its converse with an orderlv world. I'' "O ,1//;.\7.//, KlO/.l //0\ /X J/./.\, CIlAril'K l\'. T.nciC OF (OXf I.TTS. Tin; device (jf aj)i)I\in^ symbols to st;ui(l O.r ideas, and then usiti;:^ the syinhnls as ideas, operates to the formation of more lii^ddy abstract iileas in a manner that is easil\- seen. l'>'\ instance, because we observe that a j^reat man\- objects ])resent a certain ([ualit}- in common, such as redness, we fnul it convenient to ^ivc this (luaUty a name ; and, having iloiie so. wo speak of redness in the abstract, or as standing; «part from any particuhu object. Our word "reilness" then server, as a sij^n or s)-mbol of a (luabt)', a[)art iroin any particuhir object of which it may .happen to be a (piality ; and ha\ in^f made this s)inb()lic abstraction in the case of a .simple (juality, such as redness, we can afterwards compound it with other sNinbolic abstracti(jns, and so on till we a'ii\e at \erbal symbols of m(»re and more abstrait or j;eneral (pialities, as well as ([ualities further ami further remoM'd from immediate perception. Thus, sceini; liiat man)' other objects agree in bi-ini^ )'elIow, ollu:rs blue, and so on, we comljine all these abstraction.s into a .still more conci ■eneral :ept of Colour, which, (//oi more abstract, is further ri'mo\ei! from innnedi.ite perception — it beiu^ impossible that we can eve liave a percept answerinj; to the amal}.;amateil c' : and it is obvious that the wiiler this ran;;e the further is their meaning w ithdrawn from anj-thiiv^ that can e\-er have been an object of immediate perception. We shall afterwards find it i'. of the highest importance to note that these remarks appl\- (piite as much to actions and states as they do to objects and (pialities. Verbs, like nouns and atljeclives, may be merely the names of simple recepts, or tlu-s' ma\' be compounds of other concepts — in either case differing from nouns and adjectives onlj' in that they have to do with actions and statt:s. To sow, to di,t(, to spin, &c., are names of particular actions ; to labour is the name of a more ^'enerai action ; to live is the sjMnbol of a concept jet Jiiore j^eiioral. And it is obvious that hero, as previousl)', the more |^c;ieral concepts are built out of the moie speci.d. i.atir on I will adduce e\idence to show that, whether we look to the {.;ro\', ini; iiifant or to tin; histor\- of mankiml as newly vmearthed b)- the researches of the i hiloloj^ist, we alike ihul that no one u{ these ili\isions of simple concepts — namely, nouns, adjectives, and verbs— appears to present priority o\er the others. Or, if there is any evidence of such priorit}', it appears to incline in fa\our of nouns and verbs. lUil the point on which ' desire to fasten attention at presLiit is the enormous leverage which is furnished to the faculty of ide ion b)- thus usini; wcjrds as the mental e(iuivalenls of ideas, i-'or b\' the help of these s)-mbols we climb into highc" and hij^her rej^ions of abstraction: by thinkin;^ in verb... sij^ns we think, as it were, with the sendjiance of ideas; wc dispense alfo^^'ethcr with the necessit)' of actual ima'^cs, whether of precepts or of recepts : we quit the spheie of.en.se, and ri.sc to that "f thouj^ht. SiM 7^ MEXiwL Evoi.rriox /x An v. n Take, fnr (•.\;mi|)K', another tj'po of al)stiact ideation, and one which not only serves better than most to show tlie importance of siijns as substitutes for ideas, but also best illustrates the extraordinar)' results to which sucli symbolism may lead when carried out persistentl\'. I refer t(i 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 k t us take this facults' at the point where the artifice of substitutin-jj si<^rns 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 ninnber or pro[)ortion, were we de[)ri\e(l of the power of attaching particular signs to particular ideas of number. W'c could not even tell whether a clock had struck eleven or twelve, unless we were able to mark off each successive stnjke with some distinctive sign ; so that when it is said, as it often is, that an animal cannot count, wi; must remember that neither couUl a senitir wrangler count if deprived of h.i.s .s\inbols. " Man begins by counting things, groui)ing them visibi)' \i.e. b\- the Logic of Rece[}ts]. lie then learns to count simply the mnnbers, in the absence of things, using liis fingers and toes for s\-mbols. He then substitutes abstract signs, and Arithmetic begins. Vxoxw this he passes to Algebra, the signs of which are not mere!)- abstract but general; and now he calculates numerical relations, not numbers. I'rom this he passes to the higher calculus of relations." And just as in mathematics the symbols that are cmplo}'ed contain in an easily manipulateil form enornK)Us bodies of meaning — possibi)-, iruh ed, the entire meamiig of a long calctilatifMi, — .so in all other kimls of abstract ideation, the syml)ols which wc employ — whether in gesture, speech, or w I riting — contain more or IC'S Mnidensed masses of significa- tion. Or, to take another illustration, which, like the last example, I cpiotc from I. ewes, "It is the same with the development of i ominyccl ic'S of lon^r tlic :h, or lifica- l.ist tlic hinj,'s. '\'\\cy piss to the cxch.iiv.jc of \m1iks. I''iisl inoiu-\-, then notes or hills, is the syinl)')l of value. I-'inally men sini|)Iy debit aiul credit one another, so that immense transactions are effected by means of this ecpiation of e(|uati()ns, Tiie complicated processes o( so\vinj:j, rcapin^j, collectincf, shi|)pin;^% and delivering a quantil) of uhe.it, are condensed into the entry of a few words in a Icdj^cr." Thus, without further treatment, it must be obvious that it is imi)ossible ftjr us to over-estimate the importance of Lant;ua;4e as the hamlmaid of 'l"hou;_jht. "A si;^Mi," as Sir William Hamilton sa\s, "is neccssaiy to ^^ive stal)ilit\' to our intellectual proj^ress— to establish each step in our advance .IS a new startin};-i)oint for our achance to another bej-ond. . . . Words are the fortresses of thouijlit. They enable us to make e\ery intellectual coiKjuest the basis of operations (or others still bej'ond." Morecjver, thought and l:in;.;ua;4e act ami react upon one another; so that, to adopt a happ)' metaphor from Professor M.ix Muller, the j^rouih of thought ami l.ui},ua^e is coral-like. ICach shell is the product of life, but becomes in turn the sup])ort of new life. In the same manner each word is the product of thouj^dU, but becomes in turn a new support for the ..rowth of thou_L;ht. It seems neeilless to say more in order to show the immense imj)orlanc<' of sii^n-inakin;^ to the development of ideation — the fact bein;^ one of universal reco;4nition b)- u riters of ever)' school. I will, therefore, now [)ass on to the tlieme of the present chapter, which is that of tracing in further detail the l(\<;ic of tin's facull)', or the nit't/ioJ of its development. I'rom what I have already said, it inay have been j^atheri-d that the simplest concepts are merel)- the names of recepts ; while concepts of a hi^dier order are the names of other concepts. Just as recepts may be either memories of par- ticular percepts, or the results of many percepts {i.e. sundry- other recepts) j.jroupcd as a class ; so concepts may be either name.' of particular recepts, or the results of many « -^^ ^^1999 mmm \ .)//■:. y v. I/. /:r(>/.r//(KV /\ .i/.i.\: named rcccpts '/.r. sundry other conccj)ts) j^froiipcd as a class. J lie word "red." fur example, is my name for a particular rccept ; but the word "colour" is iii)- name for a wholi' ;.;roup of named recipts. And similarly with words signifyin;jf ol)j(jcts, states, and actions. 1 lencc, we ma\' hroadlx' distini;in\h between concepts as of twf) f)rders — namely, tho.se which have to d(j with iccejjts, and those which have to do with other concepts. I'or a concept is a concept e\en tl'.ou^i;h it l)c nothinL,^ more than a named recept ; and it is still a concept, even though it stand.s for the hi,L;hcst generalization of thoU'dit. I will make this distinction \'et more clear by means of better il^l'^trations. Water-fowl adojjt a somcwliat different mode of ali^htinc^ upon l.iiid, or even upon ice, from that which they adopt when alij^htintj^ upon water; and those kinds which di\e from a heij^ht fsuch as terns and J^^'ulnets) never do so upon land or upon ice. 'I'hese facts prove that the animals have one rccept answerint,' to a soliil substance, and anotlier answerin<,f to .i Huid. Similarly, a m.m w ill not dive from a hei<4ht over hard jv^iountl or o\er ice, nor w ill he jump into water in the same W.I)' as he jumps upon drs' land. lii other words, like the water-foul, he has two distinct recepls, one of which answi-rs to solid tjrovmtl, ami the other to an unresisting' lluid. Hut, unlike the water-fowl, he is able to bestow upon each of these recepts a name, and thus to r.iise them both to the level of Concepts. So far as the practical purposes of locomotion arc 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 hii,diest importance that he is able to do this. Now, in onler to do it, he must be able to set his recept before his own mind as an oljject of his own thout^ht : before he can bestcnv upon these generic ideas the names of " solid " aiul " (luid," lie must have ct[i^ ///.■:i(/ Ihcm as idea.^. rrit)r to this act of cognition, these ideas tliffered in no lespect from the recepts of a water-fowl ; neither for the ordinary retpiircmcnts of his locomotion is it needful that they should : thercfoic, in so far as these rccpuremcnls aie lii-' 1 i : LOGIC or C(KVC/://y. 75 '.111, of arc uis f.M- \c is c to )U 11 the n lis •ictl for that aic ronccrncii, the man makes iin call 111)011 his hii^her faciillies ot ideation, liut, in virtue of this act of coi;iiition, whereby he assi;^nis 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 concei)t which he h.is formed is an e\trcmel\- simple one — amounting, in fact, to iiolhiii;; more than the naniini; of one anioiii; the most habitual of his n-cepts. Hut it is of the nature of concepts that, uheii f(f of nXiffs : it is no loiiijei- necessar)- that the actual recepts tlieinsel\es should be present to sensuous perception, or e\en to representali\ e imai;inati(jn. Ami as conce[)ls are thus symbols of recepts, the)- ailinit, as I lia\e said, of Ijein^' compariHJ ami combined without reference to the recept.s which they serve to symboli/e. Thus we become able, as it were, to calculate in concepts in .1 w.iy and to an extent that would be ([uite impossible in the merely perceptual medium of recepts. Now, it is in this ali,febrii of the imaj^ination ih it all the liii,dier work of ideation is accomplished; and as the result of lon-f and elabor.ile s\'iitheses of concepts we turn out mental products of enormous intric.ic\- — which, nevertheless, ma)' be embodied in single w.)rds, Such words, for example, as Virtue, Government, Mechanic.il lupiivalent, stand for immensely more elaborated coiu:e[)ts than the words Scjlid or Fluid — seeiny^ that to the former there are m; possible ei|uivalents in the wa)- of recei)ts. Hence I say we mu>l begin b)' recoLjnizing the j;reat reai h ,'v , : i. ;^> MI-.XTAI. I.VOLVTIOX IX MAX. of intellectual tcnitor)' which is covered hy what are called concepts. At the lowest level they are nothiiiLi more than named recepts ; beyond that level they become the names of f)ther concepts ; and eventually the)- become the named products of the highest and most complex co-ordinations of concepts which have been achieved by the human mind. 1^}' the term Lower Concepts, then, I will understand those which are nothing more than named recepts, while by the term ///i,'//' v Concepts I will understand those which are compounded of other conccpt.s. The next tliint^ I wish to make clear is that concepts of the lower order of u hich I speak, notwithstanding that the)- arc the simplest kind of conce[)ts possible, are already some- thinj^- more than the names of particuliir ideas : they are the names of what I have called generic ideas, or recepts. We may search throuf^h the whole tlictionary of an)' lan^ua<,fe and not fmd a sin^de word which stands as a name for a truly l)articular idea — i.e. for the memory of a particular percept. I'roper names are those which most nearl)' approach this character ; but even proper names arc real!)- names of rcce})ts (as distinijuishetl from particular percepts), seeini; that every object to which they are applied is a hij^hly complex object, presentinij man)" and diverse (lualities, all of which require to be rej^istered in memory as appertaining^ to that object if it is a^Min to be rccogni/.eil as the same. Names, then, are not concerned with particular ideas, strictly so calletl : concepts, even of the lowest order, have to do with {generic ideas. I'urthermore, the generic ideas with which they have to do are for the most part highly generic : even before a recept is old enoui^h to be baptized — or sufficiently far developed to be admitted as a member of the body conceptual, — it is already a hi<;hly orj^anized product of ideation. We have seen in the last chapter how wonderfully far tl;c combinin<; power of iinagination is able to go without the aid of lany;uage ; and the consequence of this i.s, that before the advent of lan};uaj;c mind is already stored with a LOGIC or COXCKPTS. 77 ricli accuiiuihitioii uf orderly itlcas, rrroi-pcd together in man)- systems of loi;ical coherency. When, therefore, the advent of h'lns^Hiagc does take phice, it is needless that this work of iorrical groupin;^ shoulil be recommenced ab initio. What langiiat,fc does is to take up the work of j^Toupin-,' where it has been left by generic ideation ; ami if it is fomul expedient to name any generic ideas, it is the more generic as well a-> 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 tliat which is without form and void : rather does it fmd a fair structure of no mean order of swstem, shaped b}- prior influences, and, so far as thus shaped, a veritable cosmos. Again, all concepts in their la>l resort depend on recepts, just as in their turn recepts depend 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 ccjncept "—/.(•. in the name of a recept. As I will prove later on, there is no abstract word or general term in an)' language which, if its origin admits of being traceil at all, is not found to have its root iji the name of a rece[)t. Concepts, thereftire, are originall)- nothing more than nameil recepts ; aiul hence it is a priori im[)ossible that any concept can l)e formed unless it does eventuall)' rest u[)on the basis of recepts. Owing to the elaboratinn winch it subsecpientl)- undergoes in the region of s)-mbolism, it ma\-, indeed, so far cease to bear anj- 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 n ecd we make conscious reference to the steerin,> -'^^'^ i^ w «^ iv^ "^^ * '/ Hiotographic Sciences Corporation 2 « WEST MAIN STRUT WIBSTIRN.Y. M580 .7)«) 871-4 i03 ?A ■Mi ■nw /" M i:\rAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX li" !■ i !! :t '■ ! 1 1 scale of t^cncrality has been due to a progicssivc widenlii;:^ of conceptual sicrnificance at the hands of symbolical thought In other words, and to revert to my previous terminology, " higher concepts" can in no case originate dc noxw: they can only be bo!-n of " lower concepts," which, in turn, are the progens' of recepts. I must now recur to a point with which we were con- cerned at the close of the last chapter. I there showei.l that the kind of classification, or mental grouping of ideas, which goes to constitute the logic of recepts, differs from tlie mental grouping uf id-^as 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 liavc to do with similarities which arc least obvious to perception, and therefore with analogies which arc 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 '■cmoLene.ss. Now, from this it follows that the more con- cei)tual the classification, the less obvious to immediate per- ception are the similarities between the things classified ; and, consec[uently, the higher a generalization the greater must be the distance by which it is removed from the merely auto- matic groupings of receptual ideation. For example, the earliest classification of the animal king- dom with which we are acquainted, grouped together, under the common designation of " creeping things," articulata, molUisca, reptiles, amphibia, and even certain mammals, such as weasels, S: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 mu.st obvious differences as to exlernal form and move- LOGIC OF COXCEPTS. 79 mcnt. In other words, this earliest conccotual classification was little more than the verbal statement of a reccptual 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 anim.al 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 anotlicr ; he neither had any idea of group subordinate to group which afterwards constituted the leading principle of taxonomic research, nor docs 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 classif)'ing the animal kingdom as a s}'stematic 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 con- tinuously 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 per- ceptions. Or, as Sir W. Hamilton puts it, "by a first general- ization we have obtained a number of classes of resembling individuals. But these classes \ -e can compare together, observe their similarities, abstract from their differences, and bestow on their common circumstance a common name. On the second classes wc caji again perform the same operation, and thus, ascending through the scale of general notions, So MESIAL EVOLITION IN MAX. n! i ^! throwing out of view always a greater number of differences, and seizing always on fewer similarities in the formation i)f our classes, we arrive at length at the limit of our ascent in the notion of being or existence."* 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 pro- cesses of receptual ideation, whereby ideas become generic. For these latter processes consist in particular ideas, which arc 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 subse- quently emanate therefrom. But a general idea is generalized in the sense of comprising a l; roup of .such higher and more specialized structures, already formed and named under a common designation with reference to their points of resem- blance. Classification there is in all cases ; but in the recep- tual 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 what- ever school he may belong. Eut there is one matter of subordinate inqoortance which I may here most conveniently dispose of, although my views with regard to it may not meet with universal assent. * J.Citiiici^ vol. li., p 290. i i| LOGIC OF CONCEPTS. 8 1 It appears to mo an obvious feature of our introspective life that \vc arc able to carry on elaborate processes of ideation without the aid of words— or, to put it paradoxically, that we arc able to conceive without concepts. I am, of course, aware that this apparently obvious power of bcini^ able to think without any mental rehearsal of verbal signs (the vcrbiiin mtntalc of scholasticism) is denied by several writers of good standing— notably, for instance, by Professor Max Mailer, wiio seeks with much elaboration to prove that " not only to a consideraole extent, but always and altogether, we think by means of names." '^ Xow this statement appears to me cither 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 Mliller quotes'as showiniicntalc!' 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, inten- tional sign' ch are natural, and intentional signs which arc convcn' 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 — /.('. 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 sec 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. I ..i'l : IH I.AXGUAGE. 87 But it is evident that rational si^ns admit of alinost numberless degrees of complexity and elaboration ; so that reason itself docs not present a greater variety of manifesta- tions in this respect than docs 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.* 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 endea\'oured to express the distinction between signs as intentional, unintentional, natural, conven- tional, emotional, and intellectual. The subdivision of the latter into denotative, connotative, denominative, and pre- dicative, will be explained in Chapter VIII. * I'Vom this it will be :>n?n that by M-wg such tcnns as " inference," " reason," "rational," &.C., in alluding to mental processes of the lower animals, I am in no way prejudicing the (juestion 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 sjihere of conceptual thought only in that it is not itself an object of knowledge. Ijut, considered as a process (;f inference or ratiocination, I do not see that it should make any difference in our terminology whether or not it ha]ipens to be itself an object of knowledge. Therefore I do not follow those numerous writers who restrict such terms to the hii^her exhibitions of the process, or to the ratiocination which is concerned only with introspective thimght. It may be a matter of siraw- sjilitting, 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, tlian the ]irocess of associa- tion 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 othe" modern writers who maintain the irrationality of brutes— is only one of terminoiogy. mi' mmmigm 88 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. \\ Ih)- LANGUAGE, OR SIGN-MAKING. 3 2 Unintentional. Inlcntional. Wiihout .indcrstandinti. 4 l_„ 5 I ~ ^ I. Natural. Conventional. 6 I 7 Emotional. IiUellcctual. A I B Detonativc. Connolative. C I I) Denominative. Predicative. Or, neglecting the unintentional and merely initiative signs as not, properly speaking, signs at all, every kind of intentional sign may be represent .u 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 tc 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, M LAAGUAGES. 89 Predicative Denotative Denominative ,Cunnotative Signs M I 00 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. m I ( ! i I Ai'X I i !i ':: "it returns to the i!est and brings off in a short time a hundred other wasps;" and this statement is confirmed by Dujardin. Again, the very able observer, F. Muller, 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 t'j 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 some- thing was yet to be done ; but they knew not how to show her where it had to be done." According to De Fravierc, Landois, and some other observers, bees have a number of different notes, or tones, whereby they communicate information to one another;* but there seems to be little doubt that the means chiefly employed arc gestures made with the antennae. 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. Iluber 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 antenuc'e. 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. * Sec A/ti///a/ I/i.'c'///\v/t(y, [\ 15S, LANGUAGE. 91 ,. . * 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 Intelli- gence I have given many observations by different naturalists on this head, the general results of which I >vill 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 leirions set all other terrestrial life at defiance. From the main column there are sent out smaller lateral columns, the componerit individuals of which play the part of scouts, bran. 'ling 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 >.our 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 cv^ery now and again stop to touch antenn;E 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 larvie carried to the rear of the army, while the wasps fly around defenceless against the M i Mf li It i; '1 '!ij 92 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IN MAN. invadiiifT 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 sur- face, 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 hin-ry 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." * Mr. Belt writes : — " The Ecitons and most other ants follow each other by scent, and I believe they can communi- cate 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 ent '-ed 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 * Animal Inlcl/i^^t'iiii', pp. 114-iif). LANGUAGE. 93 rt of yards to the rear, and the column at that point commenced rctreatini^." On arriving at a stream of water, tlic marching coUimn 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 i)art 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." * So much, then, to give a general idea of the extent to which co-operation is exhibited by I'xitons — 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 refi)rmcd. 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 la)' 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 * Kic|>lin, (|iiotcil liy liiiclinoc. 94 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. iin i 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 antenna; 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 approach- ing, 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 *^^he 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 .Lttack 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 larvae outside the nest, she would return to the nest, and, even though she might have no larv.e 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 larvae 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 : o'-c end of each piece of tape was attached to the nest, and the vther dipped into a glass vessel. In the glass at the end of one of the tapes he placed a considerable number of larva; (300 to 600) : in the f;lass at the end of another of the LANGUAGE. O! pieces he put only two or three larva:, while the third j^lass he left empty. The object of the empty gl.'.ss was to sec whether any of the ants would come to the glass under such circumstances by mere accident. lie then took two ants, one of which he placed in the glass with the many larva;, and the other in the glass with the few. l'2ach ant took a larva, car- ried it to the nest, then returned for more, and so on. After each journey he put another larva in the glass with the few larvae, in order to replace the one which had been removed. The result of the experiment was that during 47A hours the ants which had gone to the glass containing numerous larva; brought 257 friends to their assistance, while during 53 hours those which had gone to the glass containing only two or three larvae 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 dcfniite communication, not only that larvae are to be found, but even where the largest store is to be met with. As to the means of communication, or method 01 .:.ign- making, there can be no doubt that this in ants, as in bees, is mainly gestures made by the antepnoc ; 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 motion- less, t'nus expressing as plainly as sign-language could, her c , ' e 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 displa\'cd by the Hymenoptera. As I have not much evidence of sign- making in any of the other Invertebrata,* I shall pass on at once to the Vertebrata. * The best instances of sign-ni.iking among Invertebrata other than the Ilynicnoplera which I have met with is one that T have myself observed and I» ; ' 90 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. 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 arc 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,* 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 Paraquay, the Ccbus a':arce when excited utters at least six distinct sounds, which excite in other monkeys similar emotions (Renggcrj. , , , 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." t I may next briefly add allusions to those instances of the W V '1 already recorded in Menial Evolution in Animals (p. 343, note). The animal is llie processional cater] lillar. These larvce migrate in the form of a long line, crawling Indian lile, with the head of the one touching the tail of the next in the series. If one mendter of the scric-> he removed, the next memijer 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. IJut "•» 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. * 1-ac. Ment, dcs Aiiimaux, torn, ii., p. 348. t Darwin, Descent of Man, pp. 84, 8f. LAXGUAGE. 97 the inal is ig line, n llic idvance side to s head, till, all ance of e head- use of siLjns b)- mammals which arc fully detailed in Animal Intelligence. Mr. S. Goodbehcre tells mc 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 mc 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, T have shown (as INIr. 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 clog does not show any innate disposition to " back," by w^orking 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 defalcating ; but this is probably due to their line of sight being so much lower than that of a H ■:h'^i 9.^ MEXTAL EVOLUTION LY MAX. 1' ) man, that slight differences of attitude arc 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 with- in 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. Me 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," saj's Major Skinner, " the whole herd rushed to the watcM-, with a degree of unreserved confidence so opposite to the caution and timidity which had marked their previous movements, that nothing will ever persuade mc that there was not rational and preconcerted co-operation throughout the whole party " — and so, of course, some definite communi- cation 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 i ..-ill LASGVAGK. 9) again .t last, back, |mcnt," watcu-, to the •cvious there ighout imuni- havc kg of a iwer to [ing to lUowcd i\[) 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 bcMs 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 point- ing), 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 Lcfroy, 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 en- deavoured 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 fetcii or carry, took between his teeth the cup she habitually used, and brought it to her feet " (p. 466). Another case somewhat simi- lar 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 Il I oo MEXTAL EVOLUriOX IN MAX. 'l; '?!'! li> III f;csticnlatiiig). The hcrdmen and myself returned to the sty ; wc 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. Bcattic, 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 gentle- man. 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 x'pon 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, £ LAXGUACE. lOI covered with blood, and held it out for mc to sec. 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 retu.'^ned 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 ofificers, 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 b^ood and holding it up, she seemed to reproach him with Laving 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 thesp 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 coti- venticnal character (or most remote from any natural ex- pression of their feelings and ideas), I may allude to the recent experiments by Sir John Lubbock on "teaching ani- mals 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 bring- ing 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,* Of course in these experiments marks of * Nature, April lo, 1SS4, pp. 547, 548. % i i lo: ME XT A L FA-OLUTIOX IX MAX. n\ I . I'!. I ■],'. 1 any otlicr 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-c, bone. But, all the same, these experiments arc 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 beloio the einploymcnt of an ali)habet. Enough has now been said to prove incontcstably that animals present what I have called the germ of the sign- inaking faculty. As the main object of these chapters is to estimate the probability of human language having arisen by v.ay of a continuous development from this germ, wc 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 i and 2, for evidently these arc on a psycho- logical 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 dififercnce it depends on the higher psychical nat'ure of man being much more rich in ideas which find their natural expression in gestures or tones, and which, therefore, arc 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 con- ventional 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, wc have to not':e with regard to con- I.A.VG! ACE. 103 vcntional ^'v^n?. as used by man is, that no line of strict demarcation can be drawn between them and natLual siLjns ; the latter shatle off into the former by cjratlations, which it becomes impossible to detect over large numbers of individual cases. With respect to tones, for c\'am[)le, 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 exi)ressivc, or has only become so by con- ventional habit; although, if \vc 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 —arc shown by observation of primitive races to be con\'eiitio!ial ; while others which we should probably regard as conventional — such, for instance, as shrugging the shoulders — are show n by the same means to be natural.* 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 emi)loy 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 si^iis, I shall con- sider 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. I''(ir information on all these jioints, see Darwin, E.\/i\ssicii of llw Einolioiis. ffi:i 11 5- ' ■ : t ! 104 A/rxT.u. j:roi.rj/ox /.\ max. riiAi'ri'.K \ I. 'VOW, AN'D Cl'.SrUKl'",. ToNI', and Gesture, consiilcrcd as means of coininum'calioii, may be dealt with siiuiiIlancH)nsly. l-'or whili- it eaiuiol be s.iiil that either liistorieally or i>s\-eli()lo<;ieall)' one is ])rior to the other, no more ean it be said liial in the t-arliesl phases of their development one is more e.\i)ressive than the other. All the more intellit^ent of the lower animals employ both ; ami the hissini;s, spittings, i.;ro\vlinj;s, screamin.L;s, i;runtin^s, eot)- inL;s, 6!:e., which in different species accom|)an)- as m.ui)' ilifferent kinds of t^eslmv, are assuredly not less c\j)ressive of the various Uiiuls of feelin^js which are expresseil. Again, in our own species, tone is cjuite as general, and, within certaiii limits, ipiite as c\|)ressive as gesture. Naj-, e\en in fully developed speech, rational meaning is largely dependent for its conve)'ance upon slight differences of intonation. The five lumdred words which go to constitute the Chinese language arc raised to three times that number by the use of signihcant intonation ; and even in the most highl}- developed languages shades of mcam'ng 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 innueiliately expressive of the logic of recepts, than is the language of articulation. This is easily proved by all the facts at our dis- posal. We know that an infant makes considerable advance in the language of tcMie and gesture before it begins to speak; and, acconling to Dr. Scott, who has had a large experience i :\ yew-; ./.\7) cisnRr 105 % f \w the instnitlion of iMiotic childim, "those to whom thirc is 110 liopc of tcachinLj more th.in the im-rrst riidimnUs of spcci h, arc yet capable of rc:ceivin|^ a consiiiiu,n;y (ii'ii'iix !'''(' iVKr/li .h//,'i/,ii/i /i/(/i,ii/s, i;'-(.,l)y I.iciil.C 'ol. ( 'iiirrick M.illciy (/■'/>■ed 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. — 'Sec.' " (14) Right hand held up, height of shoulder, three fingers extended, left hand pointing to mc. — 'Three white men.' "(15) K. — Right hand pointing to mc, 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 some- thing. Left hand in same position carried across the right, palm downward. — ' Trade.' "(23) Left hand upholding one finger, right pointing to mc. — 'One white man.' ti i! m 11 i m I ■1 '! .!.; i i m< 1 lo MESTAL LVOLUTIOX IN MAN. "(24) Ri,c;ht hrinfl held horizontally, palm downward, about four feet from j^round. — 'Small.' " (25) Forming rings before eyes with index and thumb. — ' Eye-glasses.' "(26) Rif^ht hand clinched, palm upward, in front of chest, thumb pointing inward. — ' Gave one.* "(27) P^orming cup with right hand, simulating drinking. — ' Drink.' " (2S) Ivight 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, point- ing 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 ui)right, palm outward, fingers extended and spread, placing one before the other alternately. — 'Trees, dense forest.' " {iG) Sign of c/oss. — ' Russian.' " ^n) Motions of shooting again. — ' Shot.' " (38) Sign for moo.se (Xos. 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; TONE AXD GESTURE. I I I 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 para- graphs. 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 Lidiaii Signs. ]5ut 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. A.s Mallery else- where 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 i'.s 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 I ' 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 I / ! ■ -.i 1 1 MENTAL EVOLUTION IX MAX. Syracuse, and that he knew me well. Then I asked hun how he liked the Ncapohtan 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 cjuarters 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 em- ployed by a deaf-mute occurred in the National Deaf-Mutc 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 a.sked whether, if they (the deaf- mutes) were to come to the Uta country, they would be iicalped, 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 ujjon the back of the opposing hand (' friends '). "This was readily understood by the deaf-mutes. Deaf- f TONE AXD GESTURE. I I tion. Beaf- be ic to the |e to dng ;af- mutc sI(Tn of milking a cow and drinking the milk was fully and quickly understood. "The narrative of a boy goin 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 tlie same kind mi<:[ht be given ; * 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 distinguisiied 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 psycho- logical 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 * Sec 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. ill if,' m I iy 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 ; ' TONE AND GESTURE. 115 not 'I am huiiL^ry, give mc bread,' but 'Ilungr}' nic, 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 alwaj's 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 mc 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 witli the idea that a particular boy did it, he would point to the boy first. l?ut 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 II i m In ' I i I,; iv, I h ii6 MESIAL EVOLVTIO.X IX MAX. 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 Abbe Sicard's : A pupil to whom I one day put this question, ' Who made God ? ' and who replied, ' God made nothini^,' 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 ]irid;4man, 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 slie 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 pro- nouns '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 con- TOXE AXD Gi:sr(rRE. 1 1: juiictivc sentence he ex[)re.sses by an alternative or contrast ; ' I should be punished if I were Ia7.\' and nau;^^hty,' would be put, ' I lazy, nauL;hty, no ! — lazy, nau^^hty, I punished, yes ! ' Obliteration may be expressed in a similar way ; ' I must love and honour my teacher.' may be [)ut, ' Teacher, I beat, deceive, scold, no ! — I love, honour, yes ! ' As Steinthal says in his admirable essay, it is only the certainty which speech chives 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.' " * 1 shall now add some quotations from Colonel Mallcry 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 arc only used rhctori- * Early Ilistoiy of Mankind, pp. 24-32. iiS MEMAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. Jliii Pi I f' ■' cally, or for degrees of comparison. The relations of .cleas and objects arc therefore expressed by phicement, and their connection is established when necessary by the absiitction 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." * 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, mc 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 cat want — cannot — busks 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. VVc all cat, 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 * Loc, cit.y p. 54. TOXE AND GESTURE. 119 predicant docs not have any place in .sign-Iany;uagc. 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 tlie sign of affirmation. Time as referred to in the conjunctions iK)hen and then is not gestured. Instead of the form, ' When I iiave 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 pl.iced 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 d)-ing gasps of the bird. These are un^.oubtedly the successive steps that an artist would have taken in drawing the [)icture, or rather successive i)ictures, to illustrate the story. . . . Degrees of comparison are fre luently expressed, both by deaf-mutes and by Indians, by adding to the generic or descrii)tive 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 augmenta- tion, but sometimes expresses a different sh.ade of meaning, t. ir?5 1 20 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. as is reported by Dr. Matthews with reference to the sign for Intil and contempt. This change in degree of motion is, how- ever, often used for emphasis only, as is the raising of the voice in speech or itaUcizing and capitah'zing 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). ;\ftcrwards 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 rccepts ; it is the least s)-mbolic 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 wh.ich the ideas are pre- sented in as concrete a form as possible, and the fact that no ideas of any high abstraction are ever expressed at all.* * I'"urllier informaiiDU (if a kind currolroratiiig what has been ^i'ven in the forcgoini; cliapter conccinini; gestiire-lanyuage may he found in Lonj^'s E.xpedilioii to the Roiky Moinitains, and Kleinpaul's paper in VoU.:crpsyilioli\i^it\ 6-V., vi. 352-375- The subject was first dealt with in a pliihisophical m.anncr l)y Leilmitz, in 1717, Collaiaiica lUyniolo^ia, ch. ix. for in tlie 'dition ,-., vi. .'ilmitz, ( 121 ) r I CHAPTER VII. ARTICULATION. It will be my aim in this chapter to take a broad view of Articulation as a special dcveloi)ment of the general facukyof sign-making, reserving for subsequent chai)ters a consitleration 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 e.xercise of the organs of speech ; third, understanding of the sif^nification 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, \vt idiots, and in the mentally deranged. The faculty of such Hiwi.ninglesi imitation, however, need not detain us ; for it is ViJtMt that the mere re-echoing of a verbal sound is of no lur'h . psychological significance than is the mimicking of any >f '^ jr sound. Meaningless articulation of a spontaneous or instinctive kind occui:^ in young children, in uneducated deaf-mutes, and also in idiots.* Infants usuallj' (though not in\-ariably) begin * For ineaniiii^IiNs nrlicu! ttinn by idiots, see SojU's A'c//iajh o/i /u/iini/ioi of Liiolx. Tile fact is alliuled In li)' nmsl wiiteis on idicit |is)(lioloL;y, and I lia\i' fie HUeiiliy uUerved it myself. Dut the case of luieduealed dealiiuites is here niuro M f i ■ ■■ II ■! t <■ J l I W II i n I 1 22 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. with such syllables as " alia," " 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 ♦o show that meaningless articulation in young children is s^ :^ous or instinctive, as well as intentionally imitative ; i .tthat 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 under- standing of articulate sounds. And this is an important matter for us, because it is evident that the faculty of appreciating the meaning of words b'Jtokens a considerable advance in the general faculty of language. As we have befcjre 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 ; to llic [luriiose. I will, lliLMcfoic, fiuiiish one r|uot;Uion in evidence of tlie above stateniont. " It is a very notable fact bearinj^ upon the problem of the Origin of Language, lliat even born-nuites, who never heard a word spoken, do of their own accord antl without any teaching make vocal sounds more or less articulate, to which they attach a delinitc meaning, ami 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 ox less accurately with our onlinary alphal ets, this effect on those who make them can, of course, liave nothing to do with the sense of hearing, but must consist only in particular ways of lirealhing, combined with particular positions of the vocal organs" ('I'ylor, Eorly History of Mankind, p. "2, where see for evidence). The instinctive articulations of l.aura IJridg- man (who was blind as well as deaf) are in this connection even still more conclusive (sec //'/," it would show itself more intelligent in a[)preciating 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 signifi- cation of many articulate sounds long before they begin them- selves to utter them.* In all these cases it is of course im- portant 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 lormer 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. * Writers on infant psycholot^y differ ns to the time when words .ire fust 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 corroljorate — that the understanding of many words and sentences is unmistakable long before the child itself begins to siicak. Mr. Dar- win's observations showed lliat in the case of his children the understanding of words and sentences was unmistakable between the tenth and twelfth months. i : ' i i \ 'Si'.: ■'t i : : i i ■' J i : 1 124 MJ:\ lAI. EVOLUTION JX M.l.V. We may be sure, however, that words arc never understood unless tones are likewise so, and that understanding of words may be assisted by understanding of the tones in which they arc uttered. Therefore, the only method of ascertaining where words as such arc first understood, is to find where they arc first understood irrcsi)ectivc 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, * and occurs in infants only a few weeks old ; the understanding of words without the assist- ance of tones appears to occur only in a few of the higher mammalia, and first dawns in the growing child during the second ycar.t 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 Pr(jfessor 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 woiJs 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 w ooncr : two.' said, k the 3Jects, them, imple, have ' Give only cs the \vs no usin;j[. p the f the bird ot say, also ters a Toll's ; fruit taincd \t the into a of the ests a cab."* avc no essar)'. it appears, then, first, that talking birds ma\' learn to associate certain words with certain objects and qualities, certain other words or phrases with the satisfaction of particular d \\c.~ and the observation of particular actions; words so used ..e may term vocal-gcsturjs. Second, that they may invent sounds of their own contriving, to be used in the same way ; and that these sounds may be cither 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 ps)-chological import ; but the first and second divisions require closer consideration. In designating as " vocal gestures " * the correct use (acquired by direct association) of proper names, noun- substantives, adjectives, verbs, and short jihrascs, I do not mean t.) disparage the faculty which is displa\'ed. On the contrai •, I think this faculty is i)recisely the same as that whereb)- 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, connotati\e 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 Icj attend to is that at first, antl for several months after its comnii ncement, the vocabulary of a child is ;il\vays designativc of particular objects, qualities, actions, K^\■ desires, and is ac.juired by direct association. The distinctive peculiarity of iuunan speech, which elevates it above the region of animal gesticulation, is i>f later growth — the peculiarit}-, I mean, of using words, no * 'riii- ti'im bas liocn piTviously used by some philologists lo sij^nify cjacula. on by 111:11). It will I'c oliM'iAciJ ttuU 1 uf it in \ moio cMrmloil sense. 134 MKXTAL ErOLUnOX JX MAX. km loiiL^or as stereotyped in the framework of special and direct association, but as movable types to be arranged in any order that the meaning bef(M-c 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 lonirer of the nature of vocal gestures, dcsignative (;f particular objects, (lualilies, actions, or states of mind : but vehicles for the conveyance of e\er-changiiig 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 (jf 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 umiuestionably — 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. Fsychologically considereil, there is nothing more remarkable in the fact that a bird which is able to utter an articulate souiul should learn by association to u<,c that sounil 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 dei)ressing its head as a sign to have it scratched. Therefore we ma\' now, I think, take the position a established ti posteriori as well as a priori, that it is, so to speak, a mere accident of anatomy that all the liigher animals are not able thus far to talk ; and that, if dogs or monkeys M ere able to do so, we have no reason to doubt that their use of words Mid phrases would be even more (jxtensive ami striking than that which occurs in birds. Or as Professor Ifuxley observes, "a race of dumb men, deprived of all communication with those who could speak, would be little indeed removed from tlie brutes. The moral and intellectual differences between them and ourselves would be practicall)- infmite, though the naturalist shoukl not be able to find a single shadow even of si)ecific structural difference.* * MiUi's /'/(ur i/t Xiititir, p. 5^. 1 m.iy licii.' approiniatily alliulc lo .1 p.Tpcr Wiiii'li elii'itcil a !;ooi" deal oriliscussiim suiiic )cai> agi). It wa.'i ixail hcfuio llic :n the )f the •resent It the ciitary jjduin ; if we : than ere is is able to use should 1, as it lave it t)sition so to inials nke}s r use and fcssor of all ittle ectual lically find a a papci foic llu' AKTICri.ATJOX. J-") W'c must next briefly consider the remainint^ feature in the psycholot^y of talking birds to which Dr. Wilks has drawn attention, naniel)', that of invent ini,^ sounds of their own contrivance to be used as designativc of objects and qualities, Victoria Instilulc in Mnicli, iSr2, 'ly Pr. Frederick ll.itoninn, innler tlu' litli; " Daruinisin tested l>y KocciU Kesonrclic^ in LanLjnai^e ; " anil ils <)l)jc(t was to aryuc tliat the faculty of aiticulatc speech conslitutes a 'lifference of kind between the psycholotjy of man anil tiiat of tile lower animals. Tiiis argument Dr. lialenian sought to cstahliNli, (irst on the "saal j^rminds tliat no animals are capable of iisin;; words with any decree of uixleislandini;, and, second, on grounds of a purely anatomical kind. In the text 1 fidly deal with the first allet^atioii : as a matter of fact, many of the lower animals uuiler^tand the meanings <.e, lose-, all its force, whilst the common belief in tin; Mosaic .iccouni of the origin of man is strengthened." ^ I \ili not u.iit to )ir<.senl the evidence wliicii ha-- fully satisfied all living I prists that "■ the faculty of Articulate Language" lias " a i/id/rn\)/ /oriis hai'i. .,ti : ' for ih |>oiin on which I desire to insist is that it cannot make one iota ol diltii> u ' "the Darwinian analogy" whether this faculty is rcstricled to a i)articulai "sj.eech centre," or has its anatomic il "seat" ilistributed over any wider area ol the cerebral cortex. Such a " seat " there must be in either case, if it be allowed (as IJr. ISateman allows) that the cerebral cortex " is undoubtedly the instrument by which this attribute becomes externally nianil'esicd." 'I'lic (jueslion whether " the material organ of s))eecli " is large or small cannot possibly alTect the (piestion on which we arc engaged. Since Dr. ISateman wrote, a new era has arisen in the localization of ceiebial functions ; so that, if there were any soumlness in liis argument, one would now be in a po>ition immensely to strengthen "the Dar- winian analogy;" seeing that physiologists now habitually ulili/e the brains of monkeys for the purpose of analogically loc.ili/.ing the "motor centres" in the brain of man. In other words, "the Darwinian analogy" has been fouml to extend ii\ i)liysiological, as well as in anatomical iletail, throughout the entire are.i of the cortex. Hut, as I have shown, there is no soundness in his argument ; and therefore I do not avail myself of these recent and mo,t wonderfully sugyesli\e Ve-.iilt.i uf physiologiial rese.iich. T36 MEXTAL EVOLUTION IX MAX. l>i ^^^^'1 i or expressive of desires — sounds which may be either imitative of the things dcsi to be ■M ARTICULATIOX. ^17 s^ 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. when- ever the bird saw the dog it used to bark, whether or not the dog did so. Next, the parrot ceased to apply this dcnotati\c name to that particular dog, but invariably did so to an\- 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 otiier 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 niLiltiplicd, if observers had thought it worth while to record such ap[)arently trivial facts. ily KCS case I the tal S o any can f •cr o I gent |i one be In this general surve}' of articulate language, then, we have reached these conclusions, all of which I take to be established by the exidcncc of direct and adequate obscr\a- tion. There are four divisions of the faculty of articulate sign- making to be distinguished : — namelj-, meaningless imitation, instinctive articulation, understanding words irresi)ectivc 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 heretlitary influence, occur only in infants, uneducated deaf-mutes and idiots. Understanding of words is shown In- animals and idiots as well as by infants, and implies, /(V sc, a higher developmi-iit of the .sign-making faculty than docs the understanding of tones, or gestures — unless, of course, the latter ha[)i)en to be of as purely conventional a character as words. And, lastly, concerning the intentional use of words as signs, we ha\c noticed the following facts. 1 1 ^ i i"'i;' R .i I '^ ■' i;v^ MKSTAl. EVOLUriO.X IX MAN. Talking birds — which happen to be the only animals whose vocal organs admit of uttering articulate sounds — show them- selves capable of correctly using proper names, noun-sub- stantives, adjectives, verbs, and appropriate phrases, although they do so by association alone, or without appreciation of grammatical structure. Words arc to them vocal gestures, as immediately expressive of the logic of rccepts as any other signs would be. Nevertheless, it is important to observe that this faculty of vocal gesticulation is ihe 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 appl>ing words to designate objects, as "half-past-two" for t'le name of the coachman) — such in- vention often clearly having an onomatopoetic origin, though likewise often wholly arbitrary. I will now C(;ncludc 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 rcason.s 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 . ufficient to give a few quotations from an able writer who i.as already taken the trouble to collect the more remarkable instances which have been recorded of the fact in qucs'ion. The writer to whom I allude is I\Ir. Horatio Ijalc, an i the paper from which I quote is published in the Procccdiu^i;s of the American Association for the Advaiiccinciit of Science, vol. xxxv., 1886. " In the year iSOo two children, twin boys, wxm'c born in a respectable family residing in a suburb of lioston. 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, wc are told, was never spoken in the household. The children were so closely alike that their ARTICULATIOX. '39 but 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 bj best told in the words of the writer, to whose cnliglitcned zeal for science we arc indebted for our knowledge of the facts. "At the usual age these twins began to talk, but, . Sa'"ige to say, not their 'mother-tongue.' They had a language of their own, and no pains could induce them to speak an}-thing 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, ' pai)a,' '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 th^y had the usual affections, were rejoiced to see their father at his re- turning home each night, playing with him, &c., they wouUl seem to have been otherwise completely taken up, absorbed with each other. . . . The children had not yet been to schocjl ; for, not being able to .-.peak 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 exam[)le, for carriage, which, on hear- ing one pass in the street, they would exclaim out, antl run to the window. This word for carriage, we are told in anotlu r place, was ' ni-si-boo-a,' of which, it is added, the .sjliables were scMnetimes so repeated that they made a much longer word." The next case is (juoted b\- Mr. Hale from Dr. 1".. R. W: i 140 MKXTAL KVOLbllOX 1\ MAX. Ir- Vi '■•h « Ilun, who recorded it in the MoiitJily Joiirual of PsycJio- logicixl Medicine, 1 86S. " 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 l-'nglish without an}- 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 I'rench ; 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 difti- culty 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.' I'rom this statement we may infer that the list probably did not include the whole number of words in this child-language. ARTICCr.ATlOX. \.\\ • and a . The ;hc was a ' and ,cr own iie said, illy she extent ^ouni^er can talk I it only ;rs ; and mother, rsists in ; uneasy D induce ;r having that her English ,'er uses as the ic child jy-talk. to the uage has lild has no diffi- readily converse ates, was pile from mother.' )ably did anguagc. It comprises, in fact, onl)' twent)'-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. I lun remarks, bear an evident resemblance to the French, and others might, by a slight change, be traced to that language. Me 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 show- ing this resemblance are fcii (pronounced, we are expressly told, like the French word), used to signify ' fire, light, cigar, sun ; ' too (the French ' tout '), meaning ' all, everything ; ' and lu- pa (whether pronounced as in French, or otherwise, we are not told), signifying ' not.' Pctee-pctcc, the name given to the boy by his sister, is apparently the French ' petit,' little ; and ina, ' 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 strongl)' 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 sug- gested the word iiica, which signiiled 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 iiiig)io- jiiigiiOy signifying ' water, wash, bath ; ' go-go, ' delicacies, as sugar, candy, or dessert,' and ivaia-ivaiar, ' black, darkness, or a negro.' There is, as will be seen from these examples, no ' t-' iVLXTAL EVOLUTION IX MAX. !l ( '}n ft^ special tender^}' to tlic monosyllabic form. Cniiunigar, wo arc told, sij^nifics ' all the substantials of the table, such as bread, meat, vcfjct.-iblcs, &c. ; ' and the same word is used to dcsi.c^mate the cook. The boy, it is added, docs not use this word, but uses g)ia-viii:;un, which the £(\x\ considers as a mis- take. From which wc may cjathcr that even at their tender as^e the f(M-m of their language had become with them an object of thought ; and wc may infer, moreover, that the language was not invented solely b}- the girl, but that both the children contributed to frame it. "Of miscellaneous words may be mentioned ,i,>-.inj^, (•.:,^ a pin. Lee = ///(' iidDW for her iit/rsr, tiioiit;!! no one else called the vonian hy any otlicr name than iuii>,e. r)lddle-iddle = a Itolc : hence n tliiniblc ; hence a finger, Wa^ky = the sea. 15dii-l)ilu = ///(• frintcd character " Zr,'" invented on learning the first letters of her alphalicl, and al\vay> aflerwartU used. I M5 ) CIIAI'Tl'lR VIII. RKI.ATION OK TOXK AND GKSTURH lO WoKDS. oilier Wl'. have already seen that spoken hanguaj^e differs from the lani^uat^c of tone and gesture in being, as a system of signs, more purely conventional. This means that for scmicjtic 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 spec :h is more efficient. The latter point is an importaUi 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 onl)- arc these more conventional .systems more convenient ; they arc likewise conduci^•'2 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 c ilculations as we do conduct. Similarly with speech as distinguished from gesture. Words, like gestures, arc 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 L n 14^) MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX. superiority of words over gestures in both these respects may most easily be siiown by the use of a few exainplcs. I open Colonel Mallcry'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, |)lace them upon either side of the lower jaw, pointing upwards, to show lower canines, at the same time accompany- ing 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 b)' the Indians to whom they were shown — the meaning assigned to them being that of a growl- ing 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 cumber- some do they apjoear if contrasted with words ! Colonel ISIallery, indeed, says of gesture-language that, "when highly cultivated, its rapidity 0.1 familiar subjects exceeds that of spcrch, 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 pre- concerted abbreviations before '^- plained, and by the adoption of arbitrary forms, in which naturalness is sacrificed and conventionality established." * But besides being cumbersome, gesture- language labours * Tmiching the compaialivo rapidily wiili which sij-iis admit of licinj; nirnle to the cyo and car rcs) fclivcly, il m.iy be ixiiiucd out llial tiicio is a piiysiolofjii-al reason wiiy the latter should iiave the adviinlaj;e ; for wliile the car i.-.m (nsliiiguisii successive sensations separated oidy by an interval of '016 sec, the eye cannot do so unless the interval is more than '047 sec. (Wundt). RELATION OF TONE AND GESTURE TO WORDS. 1 47 pi'C- )ti()a and liidc lo int4uish inol do uiulor the m»")rc scricMis defect of not being so precise, and the still more serious defect of not being so serviccrbic as spoken language in the development of abstraction. We have previously seen how words, being more or less purelj- con- ventional as signs, are not tied, down, as it were, to material objects ; although they have doubtless all originate 1 as expressive of sensuous pc/ccptions, not being necessarily ideographic, they may easily j.ass into ^cigns of general ideas, and end by becoming expressive of tic highest abstrac- tions. "Words arc thus the easily manifulated counters of thought," and so, to change the metaphor, are the progeny of generalization. But gestures, in being always more or less ideograi)hic, 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 he"'e speaking of gesture- language as wo actually find it. What the latent ca[)abilities of such language ma)' be is another question, and one with reference to which speculation is scarcely calculated to prove profitable. Nevertheless, as the subject is not alto^^elhcr without importance in the present connection, I may ([uotc the following brief passage from a recent essay by I'rofcssor Whitney. After remarking that " the voice has won to itself the chief and almost exclusive part in communication," he adds : — "This is not in tk..: least because of any closer connection of the thinking ai)parat',.; with the muscles that act to produce audible sounds than with thivse that act to produce visible motions ; not b'xaiise there are natural uttcreil names for conceptions, any more than natural gestured names. It is simply a case of ' survival of the fittest,' '>x anaIo<;ous to the process by which iron has become the exclusive material of swords, and gold and silver for monej' : because, iianiel)', wmmmm 14.S MES^TAL EVOLUTION L\ .V.I.V. experience !ias shown this to be the material best adapted to this special use. The advanta,!:Tos of the voice are numerous and obvious. There is first its economy, as cmploj-ini^ a mechanism that is available for little else, and leaving free for other purposes those indispensable instruments, the hands. Then there is its superior perce[)tiblcness ; its nice differences impress themselves upon the sense at a distance at which visible motions become indistinct ; they are not hidden by intervenin;^ objects ; they allow the eyes of the listeners as well as the hands of the speaker to be emploj-ed in other useful work ; they are as plain in the dark as in the lii;ht ; and they are able to catch and command the attention of one who is not to be reached in any other way." * To these ailvantatjes we may add that words, in beinq^ as we have seen less essentially ideoc^raphic than ij^estures, must alwa>'s have been more availalile for purposes of abstract ex- j)ression. We must rememljer how j^reatl)' i^esture-laui^uacjc, as it now ap[)ears in its most elaborate form, is indebted to the [)sychoIo_<4ically constructin^t,^ influence of spoken lan,i;uat;e ; and, thus viewed, it is a ';";4niricant fact that even now ^■esture lant^uatje is not able to convey ideas of any hitjh de;4ree of abstraction. Still, I doubt not it wouUl be possible to construct a wholly conventional system of gestures which should answer to, or corres[iond with, all the abstract words and inflections of a spoken lancjuage ; and that then the one sign-sjstem mi;j[ht re[)lace the other — just as the sign-.systein 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 csscn- tiall)' iileogra[)hic character of such signs, I greatly (juestioii whether, even under circumstances of the stiongcst 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 aiuthing a[)proaching a sul)slitUie for the language of words. • F.neyclop, lirit , 91)1 c(l., .irt. / fiilig)\ A'£L.1//0.V OF TOXE AXD GESTURE TO WORDS. 1 49 It may tend to throw sf)inc lii^Iit on tliis h\-[)otlictical question — which is of some importance for us — if we consider briefly the j)sych(j|o;^ical status of wholly uneducated ileaf- mutes ; for although it is true that tiieir case is not fairly parallel to that of a human race destitute of tlie facult\' of speech (seeiuLj that the individual deaf-mute does not fmd any elaborate system of sij^ns prepared for him by the exertions of dumb ancestors, as woukl doubtless have been the case under the circumstances supposed), still, on the other hand, and as a comi)ens,itin<^ consideration, we must remember that the indiviiiual deaf-mute not only inherits a human brain, the structure of wiiich has been elaborateil b)' the speech of his ancestors, l)ut is also surrt)unded by a societ)' the whole structure of whose ideation is dependent U[)on speech, So far, therefore, as th.e com[)le\ conditions of the (juestion admit of beiii;^f disentant^led, the case of uneducated deaf- mutes livini;- in a societ)' C)f speikiii"; persons affords the best criterion we can obtain of the prospect which L^csture-lani,^uai^e would have had as a means of thoujjht-formation in the human race, supposinj.; this race to have been destitute of the faculty of speech. To show, thereft)rc, the psycholo.;ical conilition of an individual thus circumstanced, I will quote a brief passa^a> from a lecture of my own, which was yiven before the Ih-itisii Association in 1S7S. " It often hap|)ens that deaf and dumb ciiildren of poor parents are so far ne;^lected that they are never tauj^ht fmL;er- lan^aia<;c, or any other system of si;;ns, whereby to con\erse with their fellow-creatures. The consecpience, of course, is that these imfortunate children yrow up in a state of intellec- tual isolation, which is almost as complete as tliat of any of the lower animals. Now, when such a child i;rows up and falls into the h.mds of some competent teacher, it ma)' of course be educated, and is then in a jjosition to record its experiences when in its state of intellectual isolation. I have therefore obtained all the eviilence 1 can a.s to the mental condition of such pers )ns, and I fmd tliat their lestimon)- i.s perfectl)' uniform. In the absence of lani^ua^fo, the mind is t'. ISO MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX. Vi. \\\\,\ ^;'\ if 1 ill %^ able to think in the lojjic of fcclincs — where there may be nothing to indicate the ilifference 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 ai)c. I think he would be a bold man who would afhrm that even if the orang- outang had been .ible 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 ' ■ li .»?i 156 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. ■:i I. !4; A If; sprang from some other species of man-like creature, and became human in \irtue of the power of articuhition (>lns 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. Fl)'ing 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 Manmials. We nn'ght therefore sujjpose that, froin the fact of bats being able to fly, many other mammals shouUl have ac([uired the art. Ikit, 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 onl)' been developed in man. One of the conditions required {vix its tlevelopment — power of articulation — occurs .ilso in a few birds. Jkit to argue from this that these binls 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, boites and muscles actuated b)' nerves. Indeed, the argument would be even more un- warranted than this ; for wc can sec plainly enough that the most important conditions ret[uired for the development of thought are of a psychological and social kind — those which arc merely anatomical being but of secondary \ahie, even though, as I have endeavoured to indicate, they arc 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 iiuv^ual. Therefore, the mere fact that certain binls arc 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 psycholoi^^ical use of articulate sounds can only be dcvcloi)ed in the presence of many other and highly complex conditions, few if anj* of which can be RE L Alio X OF TOXE AXP OESrCKF. TO IVOkPS. I 57 shown to obt.iiii ainon;^ hiicls. If any existing; species of anthropoid ape had proved itself capable of imitating; articulate sounds, there mitj[ht have been a little more force in the apparent difficulty ; thou'^h even in that case the arj^unicnt would not have been so stronij as in the above parallel with rei^ard to the great exception furni-^hed b)' bats in liie matter of nii,dit. So far, then, as we have )el L^one, 1 tit) not anticipate that opponents will find it prudent to take a stand. Seeing' that monkeys use their voices more freel}- than any other animals in the way of intentionall)- expressive intonation ; that all the higher animals make use of gesture signs ; that denotative words are (psychologicall)' consiilered) nothing more than vocal gestures ; that, if there is any ps)ch()l(>gical interval between simple gesticulation and denotative articulation, the interval is ilemonstrably bridged in the case alike of talking birds, infants, and idiots ; — seeing all these things, it is cvitlent that opponents of the doctrine of mental evolution must take their stand, not on the faculty of nrtiiii/ofici', 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 there- fore establishes nothing to prove the possibilit}', or even the probability, of articulation arising out of gesticulation ; that their position can onlj- 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 denota- tive words, but in his power of constructing predicative propositions. This central position, therefore, we must next attack, lint, before doing so, I will close the present chapter b}' clearly defining the exact meanings of certain terms as they will afterwards be used by me. By the iiuiieative stage of language, or sign-making, I will understand the earliest stage that is exhibited by intentional sign-making. This stage corresponds to the I5S Ml.MAI. EVOLUTIOX LV MAN. \\ i i W' 1 I ii! ' i^M-i ! divisions marked four and six in my representative scheme (p. 88), and, as we have now so fully seen, is common to animals and lunnan beinjjis. Indicative si^ns, then, whether in the form of 1 that sign docs not really connote an\-- thing of the particular object, quality, or action which it denotes. So much, then, f(»r signs as denotative. By signs as connotcitive^ I mean signs which are in any measure attributive. If wo call a dog Jack, that is a denotative name : it does not attribute any (juality as belonging to that dog. lUit if we call the animal "Smut," or "Swift," or by any other word serving to imply some cjuality which is distinctive of that dog, wc are thereby connoting of the dog the fact of his presenting such a quality. Connotative names, thcrcfi^re, differ from denotative, in that they are not merely notw or marks of the things named, but .also imj^ly 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 i^roup : hence these connotative names arc eon-notic, or the marking of one thing alon^i^ zvit/i another — i.e. express an act of nominative classifi- cation. 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 verball}' classifjing 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. Mere there was plainly a perception of likeness or analog)-, and hence the term Star, from having been originally denotative, began to be also connotative. lUit this connotative extension of the iJl ! 160 MEXTAI. K'/OLUi :0S' I.\ MAX. h \ M term must c\iilciUl\- h.uc l)ccn what I term rcccptu.il. l'i>r it is impossible to sup[)()sc that at that tender ai;e the cliilil was capable of thinkiiii; about the term as a term, or of setting the term before the mind as an obj'ct of tlioiij^ht, distinct from the object which it served to name. Therefore, we can only suppose that the extension of this ori^inall)' denotative name (whcreb)- it be^^an to be connotaiive) resembled i!ie case of a similar extension mentioned in the last chapter, where my parrot r.iiscd its (>ri<;i:i;''I) ('cnotative sii^n for a particular ^(v^ to an incipicnlly connotative value, by applj-inj^f that si^n to all other doj^s. 'I'liat is to sa)-, both in the case of the ( hilil and the bird, connotation within these moderate limits was n ndereil possible by ineans of rece[)tual ideation alone. Hut, with advancint; a^'^e and dcvelopin;^ powers, the human mind attains to conceptual ideation ; and it is then in a position to constitute the names which it uses thiinsclvcs ohjccfx of t/ioiii^/if. The conseciuencc is that connotation may then no Ion;^er represent the mcrel)- spontaneous expression of likeness receptually perceived : it may become the inten- tional expression of likeness concejitually thout^ht out. In tlu' mind of an astrcMiomer the word Stdf presents a very tlifferent mass of connotati\c meaninsj[ from that which it presented to the chilil, who first extended it from a brij^ht point in the sk)' to a candle shinini; in a rc^om. And the reason of this ^reat difference is, that the conceptual thouj^ht of the astronomer, besides having j^reatl}- added to the conno- talio:., has also j.;reatly improved it. The oidy common cpialit)' w hich the name served to connote when used by the child was that of bri.Ljhtness ; but, althoui^h the astronomer is not blind to this point of resend)Iance between a star and a cantlle, he disret^ards it in the |)rcstiice of fulU'r knowledi^fc, and will not appl)* the term even to objects so much more closely resemblin-^ a star as a comet or a rr.etcor. Now, this greater ^/fw/n/rj' of connotation, quite as much as the; ,c;reatcr tiiass of it, has been reachetl by the astronomer in virtue of his powers of conceptual thought. It is because he ha.s thought al)out his names as name that he has thus been able REL.iriON 01- J'OXES AXD Cl-.STUKES 10 UOKIKS. \C)\ \\ ;il)lo with so much accuracy t(> dcfnic then- mcanlnjjs — i.e. to limit tlicir connotations in souic directions, as well as to extend them in others. (Obviously, therefore, we are here in the presence of a threat distinction, ami one which needs itself to be in some way connoted. It is, indeed, but a special e.\hibilion of the one ^rcat distinction which I ha\'e carried throu.i;h the whole course of this work — namelj-.that between ideation as receptual and conceptual. lUit it is none the less important to desii;- nate this si)ecial exhibition of it by ii;':ans of well-defnied terms ; and I can onl)- express surprise that such should not already have been ilone by loj^icians. The terms which 1 shall use are the followinj^. Vty a connotative name I will understand the connotative extensit)!! of a denotative name, whether such extension be ^reat or small, and, therefore, whether it be extended re- ccptuall}' or conceptualK-. ]>ut for the t'xc/itsivcly coiiccpfiml extension of a Uiune I will reserve the convenient term ({cnoniinatioii. This term, like those previously defined, was introduced b)- the schoolmen, and hy them was used as synonj-mous with connotation. lint it is evident thai they (and all subse([uent writers) only had befiTc their minds the case of concei)tual connotation, and hence they felt no neeil of the distinction whicl (or [)resent purposes it is obviously imperative to draw. Now, I do not think that an)' two more ap[)ri)priale words could be found whereby to express this distinction than arc these words connotation and dcnominixtion, if for the purposes of my own subseipicnt analysis I am allowed to define them in accor'latice with their et)'tnolofTy. l'"or, when so defined, a connotative siL,Mi will mean a classijiiotory siL,Mi, whether conferred receptually or con- ci.'i)tually ; while a denominative >i,i;n will mean a connotatixe si[;n which has been conferreil as such ivit/i a tinly loiucptual intention — i.e. with an introspective appreciation of its function as all that logicians understand by a name, I will now sum u[) these sundry definitions. ISy an indicative sijjn I w ill understand a significant tone M :i ' i m m I !■ < 162 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX. or j^'cstuie iiilcnlioiKilly cx|)rcs.sivc of a mental Male ; but ) el not in any sense of the word deiioniinativc. IJy a ih'iiotativc si-^n I will understand the rcceptuul mark- ing of partieular objects, (jualities, actions, &c. Wy a coNiiotativc si^m I will umlerstand the classificator\' attribution of (lualities to (objects named by the sign, whether such attribution be due to receptual or to conceptual operations of the u\ind. Wy a (/riioniiiiiitivc sV^w I will understand a connotati\e sign consciously bestowed as such, or with a full conceptual appreciation of its office and purpose as a name. Jiy a prciiiiative sit;n I w ill mean a proposition, or the conceptual apposition of two denominative terms, e.\prcssi\e of the speaker's intention to connote something of the one by means of the other. v> ;:y ' i; 1 m;iik- ( i^'J ) ficatoiy NvhcllKT iccpliuil notativc nccplu.il 1, or the s:prcssivc ic one b>' CII.\l'ii:R l\. Sl'lCIiCll. W'l: arc now coiniiv^ lo close quarters wilh our subject. All the fore^oiiij; chapters have been arraii^^ed wilh a view to preparing' the way for what is hereafter to follow ; aiul, there- fore, as alread}- remarked, I have thus far presented material over which I i\o not think it is possible that any dispute can arise. lUit now wc come to that particular e.xliiljilion of the si^Mi-makinf; facult)' which not onl)- appears to be peculiar to man, but which obviously presents so ^reat an advance upun a.li the lower pliases hitherto consideicd, that it is the place where in)' opponents ha\e chosen to take their stand. \\ hen a man tnaintains that there is a difference of kiml between animal and human intellij^ence, he naturally feels himself under some ol)li|^ation to imlicate the point where this difference obtains. To say that it obtains with the appearance of laiiLjua^e, in the sense of siji^n-makin^, is obviously too wide a statement ; for, as we ha\ e now so full)- seen, lanj^aia^'c, in this widest sense, demonstral)ly obtains amonjj the Icjwer animals. Consecpiently, the line must be drawn, not at lan{;ua;.;;e or si^ii-uiakin^', but at that particular kind of s'\\yi\- makin^ which we undcrstanil by Speech. Now the distinctive peculiarity of this kind of si^n-makinfj and one, therefore, which docs not occin* in an)' other kind — consists in predica- tion, or the usin^ of si^jns as movable t)'pes for the purpose of makin-^; propositions. It iloes not si|.;nify whether or not the si^ns thus used are words. The jreslures of Indians and deaf-mutes admit, as wc have seen, of bein^ w rought up into \(>\ M/:.\7A/. r.ioi.i-nox /x m.i.y. \ \ ». I .1 inacliiiUTv of [)ir«lii;ati(>ii uhiili, for ,ill |tiii|)(iSLS nf practical life, is almost as cfficioiit as speech. The (listiiictii)n, lluMeforc, rcsiilcs ill the intellectual jjouits ; not in the symbols thereof. So thai a man iiu\ii/s, it nialtiTs not by what sj'sti'in of si^ns he expresses his meaning: the distinction between him and the brute consists in his bein^;' able to nictiii a proposi/ioii. Now, the kind of nu-ntal act wheieb\' a man is thus enabled to nu-an a i>roposition is called by ps)'cholo;.;ists an act of Jud;j[ment. I'ledication, or the niakin;^ of a proposition, is ni)thin;4' more nor Kss than the expression of a ju(lL;ment ; ami a jiulLjment is nothiiiL; more nor less than the appre- liension of \\hate\er meanin*; it may be that a proposition serves lo set forth, 'riureforc-, it belonj^s to the ver)' essence of predication that it should in\ol\e a jud_L;inent ; and it l)eIonL;s to the ver\' essence of a judL;nient that it shoulil admit of beinj^ stated in the form of a proposition.* * ."--fvci-.il wiiiiTs of rcpiili' have li;il>ilii;illy usfil tlio wmil " Jiiil^nicnt '' in a iiiii-i iinw.ii i.uii.iliK' iiMiuui l.i'Wi'x, fill in>l.iiic<', m.il^iii^ it sliiml iniliflcn'iilly lor Mil ill! of M'ii>niiu-. ilili'nniii.iiinii ;iii(l ;m :iit ul t'iinrf|iUiMl tliou^lii. I iii.iy, llRltllUO, llflf llllKuk lll.U ill till' lililnwill;^' Mll,l!)sis I >.|l.ll| IKll lie ll UK ft lUl 1 willl any Mii'h t;ialuil aluisos nl'ilu' lirin, l>iit will midi'istanil il in llir liclinic al m'iisc wliiili il iiiai^iii iuj^ii- Miiil i»yili()liij;y. I'lu' I'stiaoidinaiy views svliicli .\lr. Ilnxlcy lias pulilislii'il lipnii this siihjccl I eaii unly lake to he iiDnieal. I'cir inNlance, he says: — " Katiiirinatinn is resolvahle inln |iieiliialiiin, ami preilii atioii ciiiisisis in marking; in sunie way the exi-lenci', the ei)-e\istence, the succession, ihe likeness ami unlikliK■^s, xti tilings or iheir iiKas. Wliaiever lincs tliis, reasons; aiicl I see in) more f^rouiiil lor ileiiyiiij^ to it reasoniii(^ power, liecair-e il is inicoiiscioiis, than I sec for refusing; Mr. Hahiiaj^e's »-nj;inc the tilK' of a calciilalin^j inaehine on the same ^jiovimls" (Ciiti,/iii:\ iiiui .li/iiiyssry, p. 2S1). If this slatement weri' taken siriously, of Course liic answer would \v that .Mr. Ifahhaf^e's engine is ealleil a e.iltulatinj; machine on!y in a mel.iphoiicai sense, seeiiijj ihat it iloes not evolve its le-ulls hy any pm.-e-s at all rcsciiiMiny, nr in any way analot,'ous lo, ihose of a human miiul. il wouhl he an ahsunl mi.sstatement to .say that a machine either reasons or ]>iiilicales, oji/f hecatise il "marks in some way the existence, the CO existence, the succession, ami the likeness ami uiilikeiiess of thinjjs." A lisinu barometer or a strikinj; elock inli'ilatii'us, n-- if wmild In. to say lluit a miisicul-ijdx ciiiiipnM's a lune l)icau>c it ..: vs ii c, or that llic love of KomoD ami Juliet was .in isosceles triai\j,'Ie, because Dcir feeliiigs of alTection, each to each, were, liU' ilie an^;les at the base of that ("muie, cfjual. But, as I have saiil, I take it iIliI I'mfcsMir Huxley must hire I'ave been writing in some ironical sense, nnM theiefore purposely threw his iiilii' 111 into a preposterous form. p* 1 i ^» 1 i^,r, Mi:.\i.\r. lii'or.vTiox i.\ m.w: 'iin.i'^'cs' answcrin;; respectively lo 'a thint; bi.in_L;,' and 'a tliin;^ not bcinj;,' and to 'at the same time' and ' in the same sense;' but the imaj^es do not constitute \\\q. judi^ment itself, any more than human 'swimmin,^' is made up (jf limbs and fluid, thou;^di without such necessary elements no such swim- minj^ could take place.* "This distinction is also shown by the fact that one and the same idea may be su_:T^'ested to, and maintained in, the niintl by the help of the most inconi^ruous ima^c;cs, antl ver\' different itleas by the very same imac^e ; this we ma\' sec to be the case with such ideas as ' number,' ' purpose,' ' motion,' 'identity,' S:c. " iJut the distinctness of ' tliou':;ht ' from ' iinac:^ination ' may pcrhajis be made clearer by the drawinc^ out fully what wo rcall)' do when we make some simple judLjment, as, c.i^., ' A ncL^n) is black.' Here, in the first place, we directly and explicitly affum that there is a conformity between the external thin^', 'a ne;;ro,' and the external quality 'blackness' --tlie negro possessing that quality. We affirm, secondarily and im[)licitl)', a conformity between two external eiUitic: and two corresponding internal concepts. And thirdly, and lastly, we alsi) im[)licitlN" affirm the existence ,of a conformitj' between the su!)jcctive jud;;ment and the objective existence." t I will next allow this matter to be presented in the words of another adversary, and one whom Mr. Mivart approvingly (piotes. "The question is. Can the sense say anj'thing — make a judgment at all ? Can it furnish the blank formula of a jud;_;ment — the ' is ' in * A is W ' .' The grass of the battlefield v,a;j green, and the sense gave both the grass and the green- * TliL' "imiiRcit ntuwcring reipectivHy to 'a thiiifj lieinq;,' aiul 'a iliinjj nut • iiiiL;,' ami lu 'at the »r«rnf time' ami 'in the same scnsi-,'" nuist iiKlccil he " vaf^iic." Iltiw \% ir rofi'-'rivahh; lh.H " the iiiiaj;in.itiim " tan cnlcilain any such " images" at all, a|)ari fforn the "fll/«Jfncl ideas" of the "mind"? Such ideas as "a iliiiv^ noi l),-inj;,' it " hcing in the H.imc sense," i"v:r., In liiiij» lo the sphere of cnnroplu il thou^^ht, and 'ntitKil \\-\v" anv e\i-.iciice at all exeept as "absliacl ideas of the mind." t XiifHiy, ,\ugiisi 21, 1K7'). i srr.r.cii. ir.7 )vini;ly Ljrocn- ncss ; but did it affirm that 'the f^^rass is ^rocn '? It may be assumed tliat ' Li^rass ' and 'f^rccu ' toi^cther form one ci implex object, which is an object under space and time, and therefore of sense, liut ai^ainst this the rejoimler at once is, that the sense niaj' indeed take in and re[)ort (so to speak) a compU^x object, but that in this case the cpiestion is, not about the com- plex object, but about the c'viplcxity of the object. It is one thing to sec green grass, and eviilcntl)- (|uite another to affuin \\\c i:;ycciiiicss of the grass. The chfference is all the difference between seeing two things united, and seeing them as iiiiitni. ... If a brute could think ' is,' brute and man woulil 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 impressetl the sense except as one thing.* And 'is,' considered as a substantive verb, as in the examjile ' This man is,' contains in itself the application of the copula of judgment to the most elementary of all abstractions — ' thing ' or' something.' Vet if a being has the power of thinking — 'thing,' it has the power of transcending space and time by dividing or decomposing the phcnomenail)- one. Here is tiie point where instinct ends and reason begins." f It would be easy to add (, notations from other writers to the same effect as the above ; \ but these may be held sufficient to give material f >r the first stage of mj' criticism, which is (jf a purely technical character. I affirm that all writers who thus take their stand upon the distinctively human facu!t\' 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 saj- con- • The st.iU'nicnt rdiiveycil in this sciileiu-i' I urn iint ■^\A<: tti uiulLT^laiui, .tihI tliereforo \\\\\ imt lurcal'irr oiuloavour to criticize. It' ii ln' taken literally— nnil I Uiuiw nut 111 wli.U tuiuT sense to lake it we must sn|)|)(>M' the writer lo nvan iliat "yreenness" only occurs ii\ "^^rass," i.r, wliicli is liie same tliiny;, that nnly Krnsg is green. t Lessons from .Yafun; jip. 2j6, 217. t Ft)r instance, I'rulc-,(ir IVaiuis Howcn, of Harvahl <'(il!ego. in nn essay nn 7/// Ifumnii ami fhuft' MithL /'ii>i,,i,>n h'l-irr, 1.S80. :i m 16S MEM .11. Evor.rriox i.\ maw w , . ^ . .1 i i \ 8^ ■ H? '% m fidcntly, that tlic distinction in question — i.e. between animal and human intelli^^ence — may be easily proved to occur further back than at the faculty of predication, or the forming of a i)rop()sition. The ilistinction occurs at the facult)' of denomination, or the bestowing of a name, known as such. " The simplest element of thouLjht " is )iot a "■ jiidi^uwiit i'' the simplest element of thouj^ht is a io)ucpt. That this is the case admits of being easily demonstrated in several different ways. In the first place, it is evident that there couUl be no jud;^mcnts without concepts, just as there could be no proposi- tions without terms. .\ judi^mcnt is the result of a comparison of concepts, and this is the reason wh)- it can onl\' fiiul ex- pression in a proposition, which sets forth the relation between the concepts by brini^iiiij into a[)[)osition their corresponding terms. Judj^ments, therefore, arc compounds of thought : the i/eniriils are conce[)ts. 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. l'\)r whene\er we In-stow a name we arc implicitly judging that the thing to which we applv the name i)resents the.attributes connoted by that name, aiul thus we are \irtuall)- predicating the fact. For example, when I call a man a " Negro," the very term itself affirms blackness as the distinctive cpialit)' of that individual — ^ju.st as does theeiiuivalent nurser)- term, " Hlack-man." To utter the name Negro, therefore, or the name Hlack-man, is to form and pronounce at least two judgments touching an indi- vitlual object of sensuous perception — to wit, that it is a man, ami that he is black. The judgments so formed and pro- nounced are doubtless not so explicit as is the case when both subject and pretlicate arc associated in the full proposition — "A negro is black;" but in the single term Negro, or Hlack- man, both these elements were already present, and iniisf have been so if the name were in any ilcgree at all concep- tual- />. (iciioiniiintivi' as distinguisheil from denotative. In the illustration " N\-gro," or " Bla< k-nian," it so happens that the srijicn. ]C>iJ )tcd by ct. l-'or n itself vidiial II, is to 1 iiuli- man, pro- 1 hotli lion— Uiick- uiust 0I1CC[)- In lattlic connotation of tlic name is directly ;j;ivcn hy the etymoIoLjy of the name ; but tliis circumstance is immaterial. Whether or not the ct)-mr)lo^y of a connotative name happens to fit the particular subject to which it is applied, the same kind of classificatory judL,nnent is re([uired for any ap[)ro[)riatc ap[)li- cation of the same. If, with Hhimenbach, I am accustomed to call a nc^ro an I'Lthiopian, when I apply this name to any representative of that race, I am performinfr the same mental act as my nei.L,dibour who calls him a Negro, or my child who calls him a lilack-man. If it should be said that in all such cases the act of namiiifr is so immeiliatelv due to association that no demand is made upon the powers of jud_L,nnent, tlu> admission would be a dancjjerous one for mj' opi)onents to make, since the same remark would applj' to the full proposi- tion, "That man is black." Moreover, the objection admits of beiuij easily dis[)osed of by choosinj^ instances of namiuLj where associations have not )'et been defmitively fixed. If I am travellinjf in a stranqje continent, and amid all the unfamiliar flora there cnccnmteretl I suddenly perceive a plant which I think I know, bef(jre I name it to my friend as that plant, I would submit it to close scrutiny — i.e. carefull)' y//f/i,v 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 onl)- as regards the form of their expression. Or, as Mill very tersely remarks, " whenever the names given to objects convey anj' information, that is, whenever they ha\e properl)' any meam'ng, the meaning resides not in what they denote, but in what they connote." And although in his elaborate treatment of Names ami I'rojKJsitions he omits ex- pressly to notice the point now before us, it is clearl\- im[)lied in the above quotation. Tlie point is that connotative names (or denominative terms)* arc often in themselves of predicative value ; and this point is clearly implied in the above quotation, • Mill, I'olKjwing the sclionlmcii, uses tlif W\\\\> connotatiuii ami (k'lioinin.iiicni as syiionyinmis. I'ui tlio n," the information thus conveyed is\ irtually [)ie(licatecl : the "meaniiiq^" connoted by the name is afnrmed in the mere act of bestow ino; the name, whicli thus in itself becomes ,1 con- densed i)roposition. " It is a truism of psycholoj.Ty that the terms of a proposition, when closely interrojjated, turn out to be nothin;4 but abbreviated juih^ments." * This view of the matter, then, is the only one that can be countenanced by psscholocry. It is likewise the only one that can be countenanced by philolo^')', or the study of laiv^uaLje in the making. Of this fact I will adduce abundant evidence in a subsequent cha[)tcr, where it w ill be shown, as Professor Max Miiller saj-s, that "every name was oriijinal'y a proposition." I?ut at present I am only concerned with one of the most elementary points of purely psycholoj^'ical analysis, and will therefore postpi)nc the imlependent illumination of the whole philosophy of predication which of late years has been so splendidly furnished by the comparative study of laUL^uaj^es. From whatever point of view, therefore, we look at the matter, we are bound to conclude, either that the term " judij- nient " must be applied indifferently to the act of denominatinniutivii. Now, this clement of \italit)- is the element of conceptual ideation, already exhibitetl in ever)* denominative term. Therefore, for the sake at once of clearness and of brevity, 1 will hereafter speak of [iredication as f/iiihrid/ ,uu\ formal. By material jircdication I will mean conceptual ilenomination, wherel)}', in the mere act of bestow iiv^ a connotative term, we are virtuall)' predicatin;^ of the thin.ij thus desi;^nated some fact, quality, or relation, which the name bestowed is intended to indicate. \\y formal predication I will mean theap[)osition of denominative terms, u ith the intention of settin,t^ forth some relation which is thus expressed as subsistinL:; between them. Hut, as already observed, I rej^ard this distiiiclion as artificial. I'sycholof^ically speakiiiL;-, there is no line of demarcation be- tween these two kinds of preilication. Whether I say" I'ool," or "Thou art a fool," I am similarly assii,Miin,ij the subject of my remark to a certain caterjory of men : 1 am similarly {giving expression to m)- judgment with r(;_;,u(l to the ([ualities presented by one particular man. Ti\e distinction, then, between what I e.dl material and formal jireiliealion is merely a distinction in rhetoric : as a matter of ps\-elu)log\- there is no distinction at all. If to all this it should be objected, in accordance with the psychological doctrines set forth b)- Mr. Mivart, above (pioted, tliat a judgment as embodied in a proposition diflers from a concept as embodied in a name in res[)i'(:t 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 iuiplicitly \ and, in the next place, that however explicitly it ma)- be stated as a judgment, it is not of more conce[)tual value than that of anj' other (juality belonging to a subject. .As regards the first pf»int, when an object, a cjuality, ■■\ action, &c., is named, it is tliereby abstracted as a distinc; creation of thought, se[)ar.ited out from other things, uul made to stand before the mind as a distinct entity (see Chapter IV^). Therefore, in the ver)' act of naming we are virtually predicating existence of the thing IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) k A ■^ % tA :/ A ^ 1.0 Ifi^ IM I.I 1.25 it ■:£ ill 20 JA IIIIII.6 V v: 0% ^'^' lie Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (71«) 872-4303 ^V :0^ ;\ \ ««^\ ^\ 4"% 7.x vV ■•' ♦ i;2 ME XT A L EVOLUTIOX IX MAX. S< .'I" |i W .11 named : the power to " think is " is the power concerned in the foriiiation of a concept, not in the apposing of concepts xvhen 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.* 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 signifi- cant) 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 />, the new judgaient 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 arc 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 sj-mbol 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 irrrT 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 [/>. in apposition] may serve to signify their consequence, if it * This view of a concept as already emliodying the idea of existence is not rcidiy opiiosed to that of Mill, wiiere he jioints out that if we pronounce the word "Sun" ah)ne we are not necessarily aflirniinf^ so much as existence of the sun (/.(\i,^ic, i., p. 20) ; for, alihough we are not affirming existence of that particular l)t)dy, we must at least have the idea of its existence os a /ossiliilily : 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. SrEECIL '/.T cerned in concepts )osition is iceived as ;ompare.* is it from iscntial or oposition, ant. For belong if to judge ist signifi- or B ; and her in the make has B, nor has existence in the two ought into d to have , not as a md might as = ), or, the verb cks their r nations ord that ure they in order cnce, if it istence is not incc tlie word ;e of the sun lat particular llio use of tlic jfore the idea mind of tlie 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 M tiller says of it, " Hobbes, though utterly ignorant of the historical antecedents of language, agrees with us in the most remarkable manner." * Thus, then, upon the whole, and without further treatment, it may be conckided that whether we look to its simplest manifestations or to its most complex, v.c must alike conclude that it is the faculty of conception, not that of judgment — the faculty of denomination, not that of predication — wh'ch we have to regard as " the simplest element of thought." Of Cvjurse, 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 * Tn order to avoid niisappreliension, I may observe lliat tlic criticism which Mill ]5asses upon this analysis of the proposition by liobhes (/.ogic, i., p. loo) 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, sec Aiiah'sis of the /fiaitan Mind, i. 126, ct scq. ; Mr. John Stuart Mill writes as follows ; — " It is important that there should be no indislinctrass in our conce|)tion 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 sjieculatiims into logomachies. It is apt to be supposed that the coinila is something more than a mere sign of predication ; that it also signifies existence. In the proposition, Socrates is just, it nu\y seem to be implied not only that the quality ///j/ 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 no' oidy performs the function of a copula in aflirniations, but ias also a meaning of its own, in virtue of which it may itself be made the predicate of a proposition" i^f-o^ic, i., p. 86), In my chapters on Philology I shall have to recur to the analysis of piedicntion, and then ii will be seen how comidetely the aliovc view has been corroborated by the progress of linguistic research. wr- III iTlZ III' ( m ,. 174 MEXTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX. Logos ir.ust be drawn at tho 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 dcnojninative. The subsequent work- ing up of names into propositions is merely a further exhi- bition 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 deno- tating) is in and of itself an act of predicating. \Maen a naturalist bestows a name upon a new species of plant or animal, he hxi^ jud^^cd vl resemblance [xnd predicates a fact — i.e. that the hitherto un-named 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 proposi- tions, 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 \yherein is first displayed • — and, according to the doctrine of Nominalism, ivJiereby 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 now-a-da}s to countenance, — it is plain that "the simplest clement 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 \\ ith my desire to avoid ambiguity, and thus to reduce the question before us to its naked rcidil}'. So far, it will be observed, this I ; SVEECII. 175 question has not been touched. I am not disputing that an immense and an extraordinary distinction obtains, and I do not anticipate that cither 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 e:./ncst. Wherein docs 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 poiver ivJiich 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. P'or thus it is that these ideas are enabled " to exist beside the judgment, not /// it ; " thus it is that they may themselves become objects of thought. Wc 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 /.'■'■ 7^' i i;6 MEXTAL EVOLUUOX JX MAX. h the conditions to the occurrence of either. What these con- ditions are I will consider later on. Meanwhile, and in order that we may be perfectly clear about the all-important dis- tinction 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 Dnhliii Rcvicio 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 per- ceiving the relations as rc/atcd, or between cognizing a truth, and recognizing that truth as true. The diving bird, which avoids a rock and fearlessly plunges into the sea, unquestion- ably 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 kuozo that it knoivs t/icm : however well it knows theiu, it does not t//iu/v' them, or regard the things, the relations, and the truths which it perceives as i/iciusiivcs the objects of perception. Now, ovet 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 arc recepts which have themselves become objects of know- ledge, and the condition to their taking on this important character is the presence of self-consciousness in the percipient mind.* 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 * Of cmiisc conccjits may lie somctliiiig; more than mere recc|its known as siuii : llicy may he llic kiiuwkil^c of other concepts. But with this higher stage of conceptual ideation \ am not here concernetl. :f * ,^^: a *-4— -^ STEECir. // -sc con- in order tant dis- tcrms. concept ? scly than c quoted. cing two difference and per- icT a truth, Mrd, which mqucstion- " thhigs," ny of them mnv that it s not think :ruths which Now.ovei lan displays these things able to set ;ommon with |by the mere •t them into [in that they cts of know- iis important .he percipient las 1 am able; Inow render it )mc of whose land therefore jrcccpls known as need not now repeat. lie 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 t ) say they have not the power which pro- duces ideas " — i.e. products of reflection. Then, after alluding to Bufibn'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 prc\'ious 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 mcmor)-, 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 *o have known, though we cannot now bring it before the 1 agination. 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-con- scious, reflective mental acts — the acts of our intellectual faculty — and those of our merely sensitive power. This dis- tinction 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." * 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 philo- • \atiin; August 2i, 1S79. N 11 I M .78 MEXTAL EV0LU210X IX MAX. m .1 !•: sophcrs 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 psycho- logy 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 IMr. 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 in- dicative, 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 = 5 w srEr.cn. ^70 vc already rccogni/.c, ;inctions in re, between art, but— of he psycho- in view of )gy by the I is to be [ shall now iffer on this II extensive the ablest I consists in explained, of ;he simplest , that which ^o seen that predication, all acts of at judgment seeing that icr, but both clf-conscious y where the th a careful forth at the that, without distinction t stages of ely, the in- Hninative, and garding the names, we I may disregard the last of these distinctions, and consider the denominative phase of language as psychologically identical with the predicative, i milarly, we may now neglect the indicative phase, as one which bears no relation to tiie 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 dis- tinctions already explained. When a parrot calls a dog Bozu-woxu (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 per- forming any act oi judgment \\\\\\ 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 i8o MEXTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. i:,ii m W I'.'- . !'i ;. H r-rji' i' ! ri or analogies. Now, these degrees are as various as arc 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 rcceptual 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 Stcrr to a candle. Conno- tation, then, begins in the purely receptual sphere of ideation ; and although in man it is afterwards carried up into the con- ceptual sphere, it is obviously most imperative for the purposes of this analysis to draw a distinction between connotation as rcceptual and as conceptual. This distinction I have drawn by assigning the word denouiinatiou to all connotation which is of a truly conceptual nature — or to the bestowing of names consciously recognized IS such. And I have just shown that when connotation is :hus denominative or conceptual, it is psychologically the same as predication. Therefore it is only in this denominative sense of the word, or in cases whCre conceptual ideation is concerned, that an act of naming involves an act of judg- ment, 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 con- notation 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 1 SPEECH. iSl IS arc the differential Mind, both ire able to 3lances, or Vhen such •espondin<; ition which Tree of this ; to extend dog which child, who z. Conno- >f ideation ; ;o the con- ic purposes lotation as the word conceptual recognized notation is ically the nominative ideation is of judg- atter, it is Dwed down ween con- jnnotation, To do ninativc or which has of some the sight of absolutely similar individuals, but also by the presence of individuals strikingly different, though in sorie respects com- prised in the same class. In other words, analogies which do not strike animals strike men. The child says BoiO'i<.'ow, first to the house-dog, then, after a little, he says Bow-ivoiv to the terriers, mastiffs, and Newfoundlands he sees in the street. A little later he does what an animal never does, he says Boiv-%voiv 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."* Now, in this small but typical history we have a clear exhibition, in a simple form, of the development of a con- notative name within the purely receptual sphere. At first the word Bozv-zuoiv 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 Boio-xcoiv 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 comnion 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-i^'ow to any conceptual value. All that any child in such a case is doing is to extend its receptual appreciation of resemblance through widenino- circles of generic grouping, and correspondingly to extend the receptual connotation of a denotative name. In order to * Taine, .' /t'l/igcnrr, pii. 399. 400. f-. 'fST' I 82 MEXTAL EVOLUriOX IX MAX. 1 '! it i ¥ 'ii do this (within the limits that \vc 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 connota- tion 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 reccptual consciousness alone (as we well know froin the analogous case of the parrot, and the "practical inferences" of the lower animals generally) ; there- fore, if the denotative name originally assigned to a particular dog admitted of being so assigned as merely the mark of that particular recept, *here is no reason to suppose that its subse- quent 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 demons'.rably impossible that a child of this age can be able to 60. 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 ext nd the denotative name from one particular dog to another particular dog, which, .however, may differ con- siderably 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 sn-ECir. i'^;i cring), there I name as a ng connota- to define, to ctcd can be CSS alone (as rrot, and the ally) ; there- i a particular mark of that lat its subse- s afterwards conceptual extend this rming an act hall see later this age can lild has done :;r extend its re, or even to will do is to ular dog to differ con- and general ain that thus nee of kind d that of the ,v is that — in ilc narrating imals strike 1 faculties of acuities of a name in the n the process g to a terrier, the case of ■'^ tlie child, after /living reached this staje, the process of extci;.;ion continues, so as to embrace images, and eventually pictures of dogs. This dififcrence, however, only shows an advance in the merely reccptual faculties : docs 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 con- notative even in the absence of sch-c nsciousness. For if we say that a child is connoting resemblances when it extends the name Bozv-ivoiv from a particular dog to dogs in general, clearly wc must say the same t^'irg 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 denoiniitation. Recep- tual connotation represents a higher level of ideational faculty than mere denotation , but a lower level than con- ceptual connotation, or denomination. Moreover, receptual connotation admits of many degrees before wc 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 be- come reflected in connotative expression. Therefore it is that the child will not only surpass the parrot in its receptual con- notation from dogs to pictures of dogs; but, as we shall after- wards see, will go much further even than this before it gives any signs at all of conceptual connotation, or true denomina- tion. 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 % W > i ills 'I 1- ' )i 1S4 iMEXTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. subsequently attains, there is a large intervening province due to the acquisition of a higher rcceptual life. Or, to put the same thing in other words, there is a large tract of idea- tion 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 \-aiious 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 rccepts. A "lower concept" was defined to be nothing more than a " named reccpt," * 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. (i) Lozvcr Karpts, 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 Reeepis, 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, * Or, as we may now more closely define it, a denominated recept. A merely denolated recept (such as a parrot's name for its recept of dog) is not conceiUual, even in the lowest degree. In other wonls, named recepts, merely as such, are not necessarily concepts. Whether or not they are concei)ts dcjiends on whether the naming has been an act of denotation or of denomination — conscious only, or likewise .^//-conscious. ,1 SPEECH. 185 province Or, to put ;t of idea- brute and cupicd by 5 ideation attain the ig tract of :ptual," in 1 which a D fasten in DC difficult It will be distinction cthodically ;en rccepts. ore than a understood J "_/.,.. the e speak of aether we of which hesc four of all the reccptual bi infancy re tract of when its |f a parrot, k. A merely |it conceptual, as such, are on wlielher bious only, or up to the age at which connotation as merely denotative begins to become also denominative. (3) Loiccr Concepts, comprising the province of con- ceptual ideation where this first emerges from the higher reccptual, up to the point where denominative connotation has to do, not merely with the naming of recepts, but also w ith that of associated concepts. (4) Higher Concepts, comprising all the further ex- cellencies of human thought. Higher Recepts, then, are what may be conveniently termed Pre-conccpts : * they occupy the interval between the reccptual 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 attain- ing self-consciousness. Be it observed that in thus coining the words higher recepts or pre-conccpts, I am not in any way pre- judicing the case of my opponents ; I am merely marking off a cci.ain 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. Ikit 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 arc too obvious to admit of question. Therefore, if they object to my classifi- cation of them so far as the novel revision 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 aniinal than they deem altogether safe. \\''iat, then, I ask, would they have me do.' If I fail to * I coin this word on the pattern already furnisheil by " pre-pcrception," which was first introduced by l.ewes, and is now in general use among psycholo- gisu. 1(:' i^ 1 86 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MA\. mi' 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 iiappens 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 rcceptual connotation. Or, to put it in another way, when the child says Bow-woxv 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 dis- tinction between names as rcceptual and conceptual, they must also follow me in recognizing the border-land of prc- 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 rcceptual 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-concep- tion is designed to do is to name this intervening territory. SPEECH. IS: Ml 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 Bozu-ivoio 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 dis- tinctively 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 docs 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 whc^e the connotation of a child first surpasses that of a parrot ve have evidence of a psychological distinction of kind, on tJic 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 Boxv- 1U0XV, will bark, oi 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 i^ 1 88 MEXTAL EVOLUTION IX MAX. i: I !■' ■ .i.- I 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 intelli- gence of the child surpasses that of the bird they arc 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.* * Toucliing the power of recognizing pictorial representations among animals, tliis unqucj'tionaljly 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. Ililaire relates of a species of Midas (Corinns) that it distinguished between different objects depicted on an engraving ; and Audouin "showed it tlie portraits of a cat anil a wasp, at which it became much terrified : whereas, at the siglit of a figure of a grasshopper or a beetle, it precipitated itself on the liicture, as if to seize the objects there represented" (ISates, X^at. on A/na:., p. 60). The age at which a young child first learns to recognize pictorial resemblances no doul)t varies in individual cases. I have not met with any evidence on this sid)ject in the writings of other observers of infant psychology. The earliest age at which I observed any display of tills 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. More- over, 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 thr t she also recognized jiictorial resemblances of animals, and for many months a'"terwards her chief amusement consisted in looking through picture-books for the purpose of pointing out the animals or persons depicted — calling "I5a-a-a" to the sheep, ".Moo" to the cows, grunting for the pigs, &c., these .-.undry sounds having been taught her as names by the nurse. She never SPEECIf. 1S9 \rhat, then, arc \vc 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.* 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 remini- scences 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 th(^ two recepts simultaneously when thus combined in an act of "practical inference," although there would then be the out- ward 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 tnie.\ made a mistake in this kind of nomenclature, and spontaneo. .^ called all pictorial representations of men "Papa," of women "Mama," and of children "lUIa" —the latlerjieing tliename which she iiad given to her younger lirolher. 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 woukl touch it and utter the sound that was her name for that animal. With a third child, who was still wliolly speechless at eiglileen months, I tried the experiment of spread- ing out a number of photographic portraits, and asking him " Which is nuimma? Which is papa?" &c. Without any hesitation he indicated them all correctly. * By using the word "judgment " in all these cases I am in no way jtrejudicing 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 " elTectually guard against any abuse of the term — rpiile as much, for instance, as when psychologists speak of " percejitual judgments," or " uncon- scious 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. t I may here remark that this possibility of receptual predication on the pait \c^O MEXTAL EVOLUTION LV AEIX. ii '!■'•' I 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 state>iiciit 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. Mean- while 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 connota- tive 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 of talking birds is not entirely hypothetical : I have some evidence that it may be actually realized. I-'or 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; Cockle 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. lie 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 t/ic fiirfose." SPEECH. 191 e — as it culty of also be r words, ti before t in the is first ing with ved, and nccptual 1 as true. • kind of I into the :ss ; and 3ses into at which ; it does . Mean- fact that, ;her, they ^cognized connota- hey must nnotative the place there is a nore. In us, I have at it may be )o which had e was. ^^'ith that he was ill, he said, back (after a Mother come Nobody pity cs -colded or pitiful tone, y ' talk ' like thus far confined myself to a mere designation of these grc;it and obvious distinctions. But seeing that even this prelimi- nary step ha 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 rcccptual jtidg))ients 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-conccptiial 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 expressf.d cither by gestures, connotative classifications, or by both com- bined. 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. V>y 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-con- ceptual judgment with pre-concepts ; and true judgments with true concepts. Or, conversely stated, receptual know- ledge 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 {eg. when a child, by extending the name of a dog to the picture of a dog, virtually afllirms, though it docs not conceive, the resemblance which it perceives) : and, lastly, conceptual knowledge leads to conceptual or veritable judg- ment, 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 Hi {V. l; IQ- MEXTAL EVOLUTIOX IX .V.IX '•» 'M imi IP ■' n complaint. They have raised objections to the tlieory 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 ofifan 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 dis- regard 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 over- elaboration, 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 kfioti', but to i'uozv that it knotvs ; 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 SPEECH. 193 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 m-jst first investigate the rise of self-consciousness in the only place where its rise can be observed, namely, in the psychogenesis of a child.* * 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. I're-conceptual judgment = the higher, though still unthinking, inferences of a child prior to the rise of self-consciousriess. Conceptual judgment = true judgment, whether exhibited in denomination, predication, or any act of inference for which self- conscious thought may be required. !!l f : i !\r mt ;r'!i' '\n i ti h .,11(3 194 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IS MAX. CHAPTER X. SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. Mv contention in this chapter will be that, given the proto- plasm 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 docs 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 there- fore the conditio sine qiid non to the possibility of an external s£:/.F-co\sc/orsy£ss. 195 I the proto- as to have protoplasm ;he stage of sufficiently of thought, as true ; by ;s an act of nt processes n reach the t. s well make I am in no ge, but only no one can Dnsciousness y convinced lot admit of the matter |h the most m. of self- ly our only in its own alone the and there- Ian external 'J world. With this aspect of the question, however, I am in no way concerned. Just as the functions of an embryologist arc 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-consciou^ness 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-conscious- ness is to be found at all, it follows that only to man can wc 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 psycho- logy 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 proto- plasm 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 oi psychical processes as is habitually paid to external or physical processes — a bringing to bear upon it^ h \t\ i IQ') MEXTAL EVOI.UTIOX I.V .U.l.V. U\'t^ subjective phenomena the snme powers of pei-ception as arc brouc^ht 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 ps)'cholo;^ical definition of self-consciousness. Ac^ain, 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 corre- sponding 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.* Neverthe- less, 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 con- ceded, 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.f 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 thei; 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 * See above, Chapters li. and IV. t Sec J/tv/Ai/ Evolution in Animals, chapter on " Imagination." SELF- COXSCIOUSXESS. 107 ion as arc ; in which various in affect my hat in the is a world ; and that I to unless their corrc- )le to leave I the higher Neverthe- lal activity .ssociations ;e suggests ,'e just con- :i attention, wn as such, al — play of •ithout the )m present from the ess, pining )wn in my ng such a ortance to s possible use many lat unless y must be ssociations I do not y making capable of on." I going ver}- much further than a brute in the wn\- of causing one idea to start from another irrespective of immediate stimulation from without. INIy 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 v.hole ; 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 mo'»es. 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 reccptual order ; but this does not hinder that they play a most important part in laying the foundations of a consciousness of individuality.* 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 aiihnals. That is * 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 iiber die Menschen unci Thierseek, 18 vorl.). 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. (i- il m I 19'^ ME XT A L EVOLUriOX IX MAX. 'Ir: " If ii : i iH'ii;' m--^- 4l» to say, the logic of reccpts, 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, becau^o 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 b}'' their practising the arts of cunning, concealment, hypocrisy, &c.* From which con- siderations 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.! 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 reccpts 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 * Sec for cases of this, AiiiiiLtl Inli'liiL^ciicc, pp, 410, 443, 444, 45o-4';2, 458, 494. t The following is a p;oo(l example of cjeclive ideation in a brute— all the better, perliaps, on account of being so familiar. I quote it from C^uatrefage's HttDidii Spc^ics,'\^^. 20, 21 : — " I must here beg permission to relate the remembrance of my struggles with a mastitTof pure breed and which had attained its full sizo, remaining, however, very young in character. We were very guoil 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. lie might have marked my arm deeply at the first onset, but he never pressed it in a manner that could inilirt 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 trieil to tear away from them. This animal evidently knew what it was doing when it feigned the [lassion 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." m 'ei ;. SELF- COXSCIO USX ESS. I O'J sufficient to :cn its own of separate knowledge), I need not a matter of accurately le they also to interpret the arts of which con- ; intelligent a world of ejectivcly, ibjectively.f his stage of limal or an be informed I do not own or any ognizes the ilar thougii y, sense of 450-452, 45S', biittc— fill the Quat'efage's : remembrance its full size, i)d friends and lefence before in his mouth arm deeply at the slightest ed his teelh so lent a piece of what it was it really felt ; Ucry over its ncdy, and we 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 arc the expression. Now, if these things are so, we encounter the necessity of drawing the same distinction in our analysis of self-conscious- ness, 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.* 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 * Not, however, wholly so. Mr. Chauncey \Vrij;ht has clearly recoj^nized the existt T.ce of what I term receptual self-consciousness, and assij^ned to it the name above adopted — i.e. " outwanl self-consciousness." See his Evolution of Self- coitsciousiu-ss. 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 Siy this term is implied that he reflects on such points as whence he conies or whitlier 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 I)y 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. S3). Of course a psychologist may take technical exception to the word "reflects" in this passage; but tliat this kind of receptual reflection docs take place in dogs apf c.-;-; f^ me to be dehnitely proved by the facts of home-sickness and pining for absent friends, above alluded to. loo MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. 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.* 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 associa- tion ; that at this stage of mental evolution the logic of recepts comprises an ejectivc 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 consciousne»--.s 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-conscious- ness. But, to begin ou<* 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 * In tlie present connectio'i the following very pregnant sentence may be appropriately quoted from Wundt : — " W'enn wir iiberall auf tlie Empllndung als Aiisgangspunkt der ganzen KntwicUlungsrcihe hingewiesen wcrden, so iiiiisscn auch die Anfiinge jener Untersclieidung dcs Ichs von den (legenstiinden schon in den Kmpfindungen gelegen sein " \^l'oilcsuiigcn iilvr die j\fi'>iS( lien uud Ihieneelc, i. 2S7). And to the objection that there can be no thouglit without knowledge (jf thought, he replies that befo-e there is any knowletlge 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 kno\\ledi,e of these ideas as such. \ ' SEL F- COXSCIO USXESS. ?0I a subject, 5 from the vc.* conceptual e kind of ally paid to nimals and s signs of )r the most •us associa- le logic of tive world ; dividuality, termed an )f self as a less of self 1 the rise of le growing e gradual d that for words as conscious- at a year Id as part elated to hen more ad been a lown even ence may be iipliiKlung als II, so ////isSi'H tlcii schon in '/03 Icavour to 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 nau'-':ty' (Sister is naughty); 'J)it 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.' " * Were it necessary, I could confirm all these statements from my own notes on the development of children's intelli- gence ; 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-conccptual 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 suffi- ciently 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 terins 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 arc emploj-ed whereby to designate the different and successive phases of development which I am now endeavouring to dis[)lay. All that I desire to make clear is that here wc unquestionably have to do with a gioi^.'i/i, or * /s, I have only lieen concerned with llie matter on the side of its psycholoy;)', anil even on thi^ side only so far a.s my own [iiirposes are in view. Those who wi>h for fiutlier information on tiie psychology of the subject may consult Wiuult, loc. cit. ; Sully, Av. r//. , and Jlliisioiis, ch. x. ; Taine, On Intcllii^cncCi pi. ii., bk. iii. ; C'haimcey Wriyht, Evolution of Sclfconscionsihss ; and Wail/, l.ihiiicih dcr J\\r/io/i{^ii\ 58. On ihe side of its ph)siology and pathology Taine, Maudsley, and Ribot may be referred to (On lnttllii:,eitct\ Patholosiv of Mind, Disoascs of Mrniofy), as also a pi.per by Ilerzen, entitleil, l.cs Modifications do la Conscience du inoi {Hull, Soc. //and. Sc. A'at., \\. 90). An /£ssa\' on the /''hilosophy of Self consciousness, by V. V. T'ltzgcraUl, is w ritten from the side of melaphysies. On this side, also, we are met by the school of Heyel and the N'eo-Kanlians with a virtual denial of the origin and de\cloi)ment of self- consciousness in time. I'hus, for instance, (Ireen expressly says : — "Should the ((ue^-tion 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 i)egan i)ecause it never was not. It is the condition of tiiere being such a thing as begimiing or end. Whatever begins or entis does so for it, or in relation to it '" {Prolei^omena to Ethics, p. 119). To this I can only answer that for my own jiart I feel as convinced as I am of the ftct of my self-consciousness itself that it had a beginning in time, and was afterwards the sul'ject of a gradual development. "Das Ich isl ein I'.nt- wickUmgsprodukt, wie der ganze Mensch cin KntwickUingspiodukt ist " (Wundt). ( 213 ) CHAPTKR XI. THE TRANSITION IN TFIK INDIVIDUAL. Wk arc now, I think, in possession of sufficient material to beLjin 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 con- ceivable, 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 rcceptual 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 psj'chology which are peculiar to man, and which, following other psychologists, I have termed conceptual. I say advisedly the dements, because it is by no one dis[Hited that all differences of conceptual life arc differences of degree, or that from the ideation, of a savage to that of a Shakespeare there is unquestionably a continuous ascent. The only (|ues- tion, then, Ll ''t obtains is as to the relation between the highest recept of a brute and the lowest concept of a man. Now, in considering this ciuestion we must first remember to what an e.xtraordinaril)- 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 investi- gated 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 palaeolithic man, who for [|fi hi 1 . ' ■' ?!■. 'j I i il ' ,i .:t^.' '4 MEXTAL EVOLUTION IX MAX. 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,* 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 b}' ''ct! of receptual knowledge alone a monkey should be aule to divine the mechanical principle of a screiv, and afterwards ap[)ly his discovery to all cases of screws. But even here there is nothing to show that the monkey ever thoiigJit about the principle as a principle ; indeed, we ma}' rcoC well assured that he cannot possibly have done so, seeing that he was not in possession of the intellectual instruments— and, therefore, of the (xutcccdcut conditions — requisite- for the purpose. All that the monke)- 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 i Mst still have remained when only two came out, conducted the inference recei)lually : the only data she had were those supplied by differential sense-perceptions. lUit although tb.ese data were * "or all tlio neolilhic implements the axe was by far the most important. It was by the axe that man achieved his gicatest \ irtcy over nature " (lioyd L)awkins, /■'aii/v Man in Hriliiiii^ p. 274), THE TRAXSrilOy IX THE LXDIVIDUA f.. :i5 sufficient for the purpose of conducting wliat Mr. Alivart 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= i. In order to do this, the bird would have required to quit the region of receptual knowledge, and rise to that of concei)tual: 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 sh:;ep 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 Uammara to take two sheep and give him two sticks." * 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 conce[)tual life of man ; and although this fact no doubt greatly lessens the difficulty which my oi)ponents allege as attaching to the supposition that the two were genetically continuous, it does not in itself dis[)0se 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 •S < SI . ata were * Gallon, Tropical South Africa, p. 213. The aiuhor aiKls, " Dnco, whilo 1 watched a Danmiara .'iniiideriny; hopelossly in a calciilatinn on one side of nie, I ohserved Dinah, my spaniel, equally eni!)arrassed on tlie lother. She was ovei- looking half a dozen of her new-born piip|)ies, 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 sliU missing. She kej)! puzzling and running h'T eves over them, backwards and forwards, but could not satisfy herself. She cvhlently had a vague notion of counting, but the figure was too large for her brain. Taking the two as they stood, dog and Danimara, the comparison reflected no great honour on the man." As previously slated, I taught tie chimpanzee "Sally" to j-ive one, two, three, four, or five straws at word uf command. Ill Wfi^ ' " ff " li i ; '^; li T' 1 !'J 111 «:!■ 5. t (' ' ' 1 i . ..US. 1 [■: ' u .) 1 J 1 1 i J i 1 1 2lC) MENTAL EVOLUTIOX JX MAX. such. But althouc^h \vc have in tliis distinction what T 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 clement of matter is II2 S O4, or the simplest element of sound a bar of the C Minor Sj'mphony. Obviously, therefore, or as a mere matter of the most rudii: '.^.tary psychological analj-sis, if we say that the simplest clemCic thought is a judgment, we must e.xtend the meaning ( this word from the mental act concerned in full predication, to the mental act concerned in the simplest conception. And not only so. Not onl}- have my opponents committed the slovenly error of regarding a predicative judgment as "the simplest clement 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 psycholo- gical 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-conccpts, which admit of being combined into what I have termed nascent, rudimentary, or pre-conceptual judg- ments. In other words, we have seen that the receptual life of man reaches a higher level of development than the recep- tual life of brutes, even before it passes into that truly concep- tual 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 recep- tual life of a brute, I have used the terms just mentioned. So much, then, for these several stages of ideation, which THE TRAXSITIOX IX THE IXDIVIDrAr.. 217 I have now reiterated ad nauseam. Tuniinc^ next to my ana- lysis of their several modes of expression, or of their transla- tion into their severally equivalent systems of sii^ns, we have seen that many of the lower animals are able to communicate their recepts by means of gestures sit;nificant 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 dcnotating, 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-con- sciousness 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. lUit 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 oiititled to affirm that analysis has displayed an uninterrupted transition between the denota- tion 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 Jiaviiig 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 lil !£;;. 2l8 MF.XTAL EVOLUTIOX IX J/. IX. to indicate that the intellect of the individual has there and then undergone a change of kind. I 'it "'Id lA " \^l Such being an outline sketch of my argument, I will now proceed to fill in the details, taking in historical order tlic various stages of ideation which I have named — i.e. the receptual, the pre-conccptual, 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 prc-conceptual ideation as expressed by denota- tive and connotative signs on the part of a child which I care- fully 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, Jl/oo 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 happ:^ned to be one with which she was familiar or one which she had never seen before ; and she would similarly name all kinds of ani- mals depicted on the wall-paper, chair-covers, &c., in strange houses, or, i/i 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 ^o 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.* Later still, while looking * 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 h "' THE IRAXSITIOX IX THE IXDIVIDUAF.. 2\(J over her picture-books, whenever she came upon a representa- tion of a sheep with himbs, she would point to the sheep and say Mama-Ba, while to the lambs she would say IldixBa. 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 ioea of Young, and so, from having been originally used as a proper or denotative name, was now employed as an adjective or connotative name. lUit 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 adjec- tives, 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 rela- tions, such as Up, Doiuii, ike* 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 j-et begun, the development in question took place in the region of gesture. She was then (two years) abie to express a great many simi)le ideas by the combined use of gesture-signs, vocal-tones, and a 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 ciiapter on "Articulation." Touching the use of adjectives l>y young cliildren, I may quoie the following remark from Professor Treyer : — "A very general error must be removed, wliicii consists in the suppi)siiion 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 in>tances drawn from the daily observations of his own child, such as the uic of the word " heiss " in the twenty- third month. • \\'e shall subsequently see that at this stage of mental evolution there is no well-defined distinction between tlie different parts of spevch. Therefore here, and elsewhere throughout this chapter, I use the terms "noun," "adjective,"' " verb," &c., in a loose and general sense. i ■^. wiU 220 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. mm t,. 'i^i\\\ \ \' ''\- 111 i il large connotativc extension of her words. The i^csture-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 over- lapped, the earliest phases of the denotative and rcceptually connotativc. 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, whi'ch 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, THE IKAXSiriOy I.V THE IXDIVIDVAL. -^ '> r 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.* 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. -f" 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 sec that where there is any difference it is due to different circum- stances of bodily shape, social conditions, &c. : it is not due to any difference of ideati*^. 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 an)- articulate words are uttered, the infant (lil e the animal) will display an understanding of many articulate words when uttered in its prci'ence, 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 * I have seen a terrier of my own (who lialutiially employed this gcsture-sit^Mi in the same way as Preyer's child, namely, as expressive of ilesire), assiduously though fruitlessly " beg" before a refractory bitch. t Many dogs will signilicantly bark, and cats significantly mew, for things whiL'h they desire to possess or to be done. For significant crying by children, see above, p. 158. 1:1 1(1 v ■ ■i. •;V i :-■■ M. j II ;, 1 ii f 'hi'* '!.•■' t H- rfl F'' i i i : r : ' J ;■. •' '■' •1 i^ ' i 1' J^ 222 mi: XT AT. F. TO LI H /OX /X MAX. a]thi)Ui;li, as far as I am aware, no one has ever tried to teach an animal to do this, \vc k-now that trained dogs will display an even better understanding of words by means of appro- l)riate gestures.* 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. Ikit 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 c arliest or indicative phase of language is concerned, no difference even of degree can be alleged between the infant ar.vl the animal. Neither can any such difference be allegjd 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 signifi- cance. 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 * For the case of the ape in this connection see above, p. 126. I took my (langliter when she was seven years of age to witness the understanding of the ape "vSally." On coining away, 1 remarked to her that tlie animal seemed lobe "quite as sensible as Jack " — i.e. her infant brother of eighteen months. She considered for a wliile, and then replied, "Well, I think she is sensibler." And I believe the cliild was riglit. THE TRANSITIOX IX THE IXDIVIDUAL. 223 ; ; fiirtlicr seen that this is inerclv oninij t(j the rap'd ailvaiicc in the degree of rcceptual lifcwliich takes place in tlie latl':r — or, in other words, that if a parrot resembled a do^ in bcini^ 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 docs ; and liencc in this matter the parallel between a parrot and child would proceed further than it does. The only reason, there- fore, why a child thus gradually surpasses a parrot in the matter of connotation, is because the receptuai life of a ciiild 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 pur- pose 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 intelli- gence 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.* The case of a child late in talking may therefore be taken as a psycho- * Or, if any opponent were to suggest tliis, 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 obj;, fying ideas. Now, it is on all hands admitted tliat 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 coiidilion to the naming of her ieleas? If so, it would follow that there may be concepts without names, and thus the whole fortress of my opponents would crumble away, !t':| » '!! I' P'li-ii : : 224 MEXTAL EVOLUTIOX IN MAN. 1i^ - \ logical 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, \vc have already seen that the gestures begin by being much less expressive than those of a dog, then gradually improve until they become psycho- logically 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 psvcho- logical scale as talking birds reach the level of denr ng objects, qualities, &c. ; remembering that some of thes Js 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 THE TRANSinOX IN THE IXDIVIDUAL. moving in the rcceptual sphere of ideation, and that this sphere is ah^eady (between one and two years) far above that of the parrot. Yet, Uke the parrot, one of the first uses that he makes of these signs is in the denotation of individual objects, &c. Next, like tlie more intelligent parruts, lie 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 main- tained, 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 reccptual 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 differ- ence of kind between man and brute, the most important — because the initial — stages of transition have been lost sight of, Q m i m ^■**V'- 226 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. ^ { 1 1 1 1, and the fi lly developed powers of human thought contrasted with their low beginnings in the b'Mte 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 alwaj-s and necessarily co-cxtensive 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 nciessarily coincident.* 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 icholly independent of the other — that there are connotative names before there arc 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 con- ce[)ts. 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 re.f^ards 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, '- ■ so long as the intelligence of either is moving in what I have called the receptual sphere. Let w^r,^ then, next consider what I have called the pre-conceptual stage of ideation, or that higher * See pp. 81-S3, wlu-rc il is shown that even in cases wliere conceptual tlimij^lil is nccessa'y for the original formation of a name, the name may afterwards lie iiseil without the ajjeney of such tliouyht — ^just in the same way as actions orij^inally due to intelli(;eMce may, liy frequent repetition, become automatic. At the close of l!ie present chapter it will be shown that the aamc is true even of full f)r formal predication. THE TRANSITIOX IN THE IX DIVIDUAL. !27 rcccptual life of a child which, while surpassing the rcccp- tual life of any brute, has not yet i'ttained to the conceptual life of a man. From what I have already said it must, I should s, pose, be now conceded that, at the place where the reccptual life of a child first begins to surpass the reccptual life c i :m y other mammal, no psychological difference of kind can be affirmed. Let us, therefore, consent to tap this pre-conccptual 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-conccptual 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 rccepts severally represent happen to occur together before the cliild's observation: the child therefore denotes them botli simul- taneously — i.e. brings them 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 /og^ic of events: it is not cflccted by the child in the way of an}' 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 jutlgment, 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 lit: ?i J i ! n :i ! ! 22S MEXTAL EVOLUTIOX IN MAN. in the presence or absence of self-consciousness. If, on the other hand, you answer that here you have not judi^ment, 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-conscious- ness 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, /r?;-/ 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, then 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 arc parallel, or not distinguisliable from each other by any one principle of [jsjxhology. 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 oivii previous self ? If so, I must at this pcMUt part comi)any with you in argument, because at this point your argument ends in a rontradiction. 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 f n m 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 im[)ossible for my opponents to show that there is any ps)-chological difference oi 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, Viherein originall)' denotative words are progressively extended through considerable degrees of connotative meaning ; so -■%\ w ^^ il. n- rilE TRANSITIOX L\ THE IX DIVIDUAL. -T>( 9 there is a pre-conceptual kind of predication, wherein denotative and connotativc terms are brought together without any conceptual cognizance of the rchition thus virtually alleged between thcni. l-'or 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, untJiinkiiii^ propositions. Such propositions, tlien, are statements of truth made for the practical pur[)oses 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 lo;;ic of concepts, I'or neither the truth so stated, nor the idea thus translated, can ever have been [)laced 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 /// it." And, in order to do this, the mind must have attained to self-consciousness. But. ns just remarked, such is not yet the case with a chiKl of the age in question ; and hence we arc bound to conclude that before there is judgment ( Medication in the sense understood b}- psychologists (concepUial , tlit i i.-. jutlgment anil predication of a lower order (pre-con •< j)tual,!, wherein truths are stated for the sake of communicating impic idias, 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 accompli-' d b}- the mere apposition of denotative signs, in accordance with the general princii)les of association. . / being the denotative name of an object a, and B the denotative name of a (pi '''y or action />, when a b occur together in nature, the rt ..>i.)n between them is pre-conceptually affn'med by the mere act of bringing into apposition the corresi)onding denotations 1 I ?! ' ;;l* 1 i. !l rv y i i n 2\0 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. A B — an act which is rendered inevitable by the elementary laws of psychological association.* The matter, then, has been reduced to the last of the three stacfcs 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 qucsti< n 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 sLiidy these relations, we find that they are clearly those cf 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 lengdi 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 opi)onents — namely, 'that there is evidence of receplual ideation differing from conceptual in origin or kind. * In this ctmncction it is intcre^itiii}; lu ohscivo ilio absence of the cnpula. Ndtwitlistandiiig the stroiij^ly imitative tcmlencies of a cliild's mind, and nt)t\vilh- slaniliiiy; tli.it our Kni^lisli tiiildieii liear the cojiuhi expressed in almost every statement that is nialaiion of the mental acts concerned in predieation. As previously noticed, we meet with precisely the same fact in the natural l,ui<;uage of j;esture, even after tiiis has been wrought up into the elaborate conceptual systems of the Indians and deaf-mutes. Lastly, in a sub.e[uent chapter we shall see that the same has to be saitl of all the more primitive forms of spoken language which are still extant among savages. So tiiat iiere again we meet with additional proof, were any recjuired, of the folly of regarding the copula as an essential ingredient of a proposition. THE TRAXSniON LV THE INDIVIDUAL. mcntary ic three scussion c is any able and n object cred by in the vhcn we riy those into the that it is decide ler ends. Having rcnce of ■ gradual 1 show at nual out currence. I of the idence of or kind. the c(i|nila. i.d iiotwilh- Imost every in the pre- trusiiiiff to ig ehild is leiital aets ecisely ilie vrought up Lastly, in I tlie iiiDre vages. So ihe folly uf Only if it could be shown — cither 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-conccptual ideation so differs from the succeeding conceptual ideation — only if one or other of the alterna- tives 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 coin- plete reconstruction of their argument. For at present their arguinent goes upon the assumption that throughout all the phases of its development a human mind is one in kind — that it is nowhere fundainentally 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, therefcM'e, 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 develoiiinent 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 alterna- tives 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 froin each of the levels of ideation to the next above it is of so gradual and continuous a character that it is [)ractically 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 stud)' of the facts. Never- theless, still restricting ourselves to grounds of psychology alone, there remains two general antl imi)ortant considerations of an independent or sup[)lemcntary kind, which tend strongly 1 ;!';■ % m 5j ;: \ ir m (I •s; \ % r fir i i:iii9 'I !. 232 MENIAL EWLUTJON IX MAN. to support my side of the argument. These two considera- tions, 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 develop- ment 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 thcy^ 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 -he had correctly used the terms indicative of true self-consciou.sicss — 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 licr to try to tl.ink out the problem for herself She first suggested the bath-room, which was not only above the drawing-room, but also at tiie 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 THE TRAXSIT10\' LV THE IXDIVIDUAL. 2r^ 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 \vc 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, docs 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 !ts first beginning, it does not bctokcr any very per- ceptible improvement upon those loowers oi 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. Thcieforc, on merely ps}'chological 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 iiighest level of receptual. " The greatest of all distinctions in biology," when it first arises, is thus seen to lie in \t^ potentiality rather than in its origin. Self-consciousness is, indeed, the condition to an r ■": % m w hi ii, . I hi. 234 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. immeasurable change in the mind which presents it ; but, in order to become so, it must Le 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 essenti- ally or intrinsically artificial. INly 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 arc carried upwards from lower to higher forms of life, thus knitting them all together in the bonds c'" organic evolution ; so may the psychologist find that e\en 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 THE TRANSITIOX IN THE INDIVIDUAL. -35 by adult man is a predication in this sense : the vast majority of our verbal propositions arc made for the practical •purposes of communication, or without the mind pausint^ to contemplate the propositions as such in the lij^ht of self-con- sciousness. When I say " A negro is black," I do not recjuirc to think all the formidable array of things that Mr. Mivart says I affirm * ; and, on the other hand, when 1 perform an act of conscious introspection, I do not always recjuire 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 arc 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 " Meat 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. IJut for the orii^iiial attaimncnt 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 understand- ing 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 super- fluous 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, t * Sec p. 1 66. t Thus far, it will be observed, the ca^e cf [uedicatiun is preci>ely analot;ous to that of denomination, alluded to in the foot-note on p:it;e zzd. Jii^l as instincts may arise by way of " lapsed intelligence," so may originally conceptual names, and even originally conceptual propositions, become worn down by freipient um'. I \ I.' 't ill. m % \ ■ ' ;i" ill rib 23^ MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. ■,'1 WW But although I liold this to be the true exphmation of the apparent independence of predication and introspection in all cases of highly abstract t]ioui,dit, I am firmly convinced that in all cases where those lower orders of ideation to which I have so often referred as receptiial and pre-conccptual are concerned, the independence is not onlj' apparent, but real. This, indeed, I have already proved must be the case with the prc-conceptual propositions of a youni^ child, inasmuch as such propositions are then made in the absence of self-consciousness, or of the necessary condition to their being /// atiy 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. I'or, as Mill very truly sa}-s, " it will be admitted that, by asserting the proposition, we wish to communicate information of that j^hysical 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." * 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 w ith 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 firsl has to do exclusively with recepts, while until tin.".' arc, as it were, ilej^racied into the pre-conceiitual order of ideation, Ik' it observed, liowcver, that the paragraphs which follow in the text have reference to a totally different principle — namely, that there may he propositions strictly conceptual as to form, which, nevertheless, need never at any time have been conceptual as to thought. * Logic, vol. i., p. lo8. THE TRAXSITIOX IX THE LWDIVIDUAL. 237 from our study of the growing child uc know th.it it is the signs used in the communication of recepts which first lead to the formation of concepts. For concepts arc first of all named recepts, kn(3wn 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. Ikit even after the power of conceptual introspection has been fully reached, demand is not always made upon it for the communication of merely rcceptual knowledge ; and therefore it is that not every proposition requires to be introspcctively 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 connotativc nomination on the other, and all the conditions are furnished to the formation of non-con- ceptual 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. 'W\ jli; 1 f Here, then, the psychological examination of my oppo- nents' 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 communi- cation, 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 rcceptual life of the child, until by further though not less imperceptible growth they pass into the incipiently con- ceptual 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. .11" '1 53« MESTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAN. CHAPTER XII. COMrARATIVE PHILOLOGY. We have now repeatedly seen that there is only one argument in favour of the view that the elsewhere continuous and uni- versal 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 p.sychology "is destitute of fossils : unlike pre-historic structures, pre-historic ideas leave behind them no record of their existence. But now a partial excep- tion 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 r.rpression to ideas, on the other hand it receives /wpression 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 pahuontology 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. COMPARATIVE PHILOLOGY. 239 In now turning to this important branch of my subject, I may remark in iiiniiw 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 r.f human faculty." Being thus myself obliged to rely upon authority, where I find that authorities are in con- flict- A-hich, 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 inspira- tion 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 cosmo- logy, 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 ;,' :i-:'. l!| i,y \Ui !40 MENTAL ElVLUJ/O.V I.V M.l.V. K i' mA opponents to answer — " Daily experience informs us, that men who have not learned to articulate in their childhood, never afterwards accjuire 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 chiKlrcn who were inca- pable of invention, or by men who were incapable of speech. A thousand, na)-, a million, of children could not think of invent- \\v^ a lanL;ua;4e. While the organs are pliable, there is not undcrstaniling 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, aiul 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 con- clude that our Hrst parents received it by immediate inspira- tion." * 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 vvas clearly perceived by some of the earlier philo- logists, it.s full significance could not be appreciated before the advent of the general theory of cvolution.t Nevertheless, it is here of interest to observe that the theory of evolution * llneyclol^icJia lUitaiiiiica, cij^lult cdilidii, 1S57, .\it." l,;iiit;iiaL;<.'. " t ( If cdiii^t.' in classical tiiifjs, wlicii llicrc was no thooliyical iircsumiition against the theory of ilcvelopnicnt, tiiis ahernativc met witli a ruilcr recognition ; as, for example, hy tlie l^atin aiithi;/i' und SpiailrKoisscitschift. i'rom that liate onwards the theory of evolution in its application to piiilology has licld undiviileil sway. co.Mp.iRj TiVF. r/ni.oroG v. 241 ■iuiiiption tgnilion ; Hoforc wlu'llior IVClll'oll liy Oio lUit in u> (loubl \w^ been ii^e wlio iiiil)ii|(lt, itiicsscd issue of iin tliat uis lickl was clearly educed from, aiul applied to, the study ol lani;"ua<^es by some of the more scientific philoloLjists, before it had been clearly enunciated b\- naturalists. Thus, for instance, Dr. Lathain, while criticizing; the passa!::fe above quoted, wrote in 1S57 : — ■" In the actual field of lanjTiiafjfe, the lines of demarcation arc less definitely marked than in th(i prccedin ut]^_<;ests. ... In order to account for the e.xistiiii^ lines of deri^arcation, which arc broad and definite, we must bear in mind .) fresh phenomenon, viz. the spread of one dialect at the expense of others, a fact >vhich obliterates intermediate forms, aiul brings extreme ones into geof^raphical juxtaposition." * Now, at the present day — owinsjj parth' to the estalilish- ment of the doctrine of evolution in the science of biolonry, but much more to direct evidence furnished by the science of philoloi^)' itself — students of laivjjuas^e are unanimous in their adoption of the developmental theory. ICven Professor Max ]\Iiiller insists that "no student of the science of laiv^uagc can be anything; but an evolutionist, for, wherever he looks, he sees nothing but evolution g(Mng on all around him ; " t 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." J Mere, however, it is needful to distinguish between language and languages. A phiioiogist may be firmly con- vince'! that all languages have developed by waj- of natural growth from those sim[)lest elements, or " roots," which wc shall presently have to consider. l?ut he may nevertheless hesitate to conclude, with anj-thing like ecpial certainty, that tliesc siiniilest elc-ients were themselves develoi)ed from still * Eiuvcl. /t'rif., /('(■. (//. Kcmomhciint; t'lat (lie above was pulilislii'ii two years luToic llic Oir^iii / Thoui^bt, prelace, p. \i. X /^iH'.'iiiisin (istiii l>y l/it- Sciciitt- oj I.iiiii;i ^^ii ill: raps II!- 1 M 244 MESTAL EV0LU710X IX MAX. expect to have been of later growth. For they serve only the function of t;ivinj,f specific meaninL;s to the f^eneral 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 fiiul that the roots are the earliest discoverable (though not on this account necessarily the most primitive) cleincnts of all langu< a (liflcri'iuc of opinion among philologisis as lo tlic txtcnt in whicii niiiiiifying con>t;ints were ihcinsclvos originally rool.s. The school of Liulwi^; regards dcmonslr.itivc elements as never having; enjoyed existence as independent words; hut, even so, tliey must liave had an independent existence of some kind, else it is impossible to explain how they ever came to lie employed as constantly modifying; dilfercnt roots in the same way. Moreover, as Max Midler well observes, " to suppose that Khana, Khain, Khanana, Khainira, Khatra, &e., all tumbled out ready-made, wiilunit any synihitical purpose, and that their dilVereiices were due to nothing; but an uncontrollcil play of the orj^ans of speech, seems lo nie an unmeaning assertion. . . . What must be admitted, however, is that many suffixes and terminations had been wrungly analyzed by iiopp and his school, and thai we must be satisfied with looking upon most of ihcm as in the begiiming simply demonstrative and moditicatory " (/(>«. .//., jip. 224 ami 225). See also h'arrar, Oii\;iii 0/ /(in^iiai^r, p]i. 100, <•/ si'ress themselves, when first beginninj^ to speak, by usini; moiKJsj'llabic and isolated words, which further resemble the lany;uages in cpicstion by not clcarl)- dislinguishin^r between what we understand as " parts of speech." I*'or in isolatin^^^ tonCj^ues such variations of grammatical meam'ng as the words arc cajjable cf conveying arc mainl)' produced, either by differences of intonation, or by changing the positions which words occujjy in a sentence. Of course these e.\[)edients obtain more or l(;ss in languages of both the other tyi^es ; but in the isolating group the}- have been wrought up into a much greater variety and nicety of usage, so as to become fairly good substitutes for modif)-ing constants (;n the one liand, and inflectional change on the other. Ne\ertheless, although inflectional change is wholly absent, modifying constants in the form of au\iliar\- 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 mono- s)-llabic terms, which, when standing bj- 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 inore than to another. Moreover, one such word ma)' present many totally different meanings, such as to be, truly, lie, the letter, thus. In order, therefore, to notify the particular meaning which a full word is intended to convey, the empt)' words are used as aids supplementary to the I coMPAR.i rn-E rini.oi.oaw -m; f, using devices of intonatirm and syntax. It is probable that all these empty words were once themselves full words, the meanings of whicli gradually became obscured, until tb.e)- acquired *ly arbitt for thi )f defu th purpose 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 o[)inion of man}- philo- logists, 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." * This A i:;gl lit illative, or, as it is sifss, l'!nglish would have been an aggluti- native language. But, as a matter of fact, l-jiglish, lik-e the rest of the groui) to which it mainly belongs, has adoi)ted the device of inllecting many of its words (or, rather, has inherited this ilevice from some of its progenitors), and thus bektngs to the third order of languages which I luive mentioned, namely. the hijicctivc. Languages of this t\pe are also often termeil Trauspositivi\ because the wonls wow admit of being shifted about as to their relative positions in a sentence, without the meaning being thereby affected. Tiiat is to sa)', relations between words are now markeil much le>s b)- s\ntax, and ♦ lluscl.ac'iuc, iicicnci of Lau^ua^i\ Kni^lish lr;>n>., (i. 37. 11: I! 1 1 ' 1 ill ■ i i i ¥i^ 11 li^^ •ill ij' 1 4i ( i 9 p ill i i 24S Ml:.\ lAL lAOLLTlOS L\ MAS. much more by individual change. In languages of this kind the princi[)le of aggkitination has been s(j perfected that the origi!ial composition is UKjre 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 waj' of declension, conjugation, &c. Or, to state the case as it has been stated by some philologists, in agglutina- tive 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. Hut when the union has grown more intimate, the structure allows of more artistic treatment at the hands (jf language-makers : the "amalgama- tion" of elements having become comi)lete, the resulting alloy can be manipulated in a variety of ways withcjut involving its disintegration. Moreover, this princii)le of inflection ma)' extend from the component parts to the root itself; not onl>' suffixes and prefixes, but even the word which these modify, may undergo inllectional change. So that, ui)on the whole, the best general idea of these various types of langua,;e- structure may perha[)S be given by the following formukx, which I take from 1 lovelac([ue.* In the isolating t)pe the formula of a word is simply R, and that of a sentence R-f R-j-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 onl)' of relationship between other words, we shall have a formula of agglutination, Rr, Rrr, rR, rRr, &c. Lastly, the essence of an infiecting language ct)nsists in the power of a root to express, by modification of its own form, its various relations to other roots. Not th.'it the roots of all words are necessarily modified ; for they often remain as they do in agglutinating tongues. Jiut they may be modified, and "languages in which relaticjiis may be thus c.xpressetl, not onl)' by suffixes and prefixes, but also by a * This niclhiul nf ropiesi'iilation w.ns doviscil by Sclilciulicr, who carries il tiirlhcr than I liavc uccasion to do in llic text. See Mi-iiioirs of Aciu/twr of St. Pi-Unl'iDi;, vol. i., No. 7, 1859, COM PARA I'll E rniLOLCGY, J4f) ISC has cs aiul words, <, rlvi-, ists in s own roots cinain ay be tluis by a lairics it li' oj SI. mocliricatioii of the form of the ro(its, arc inflectional lan^aia^cs." Tiicreforc, if wc represent this power of inflec- tional chan. ieldini; such formula, as l\r\ Krr", &c. Such, then, are the three main groups or orders of languaj^e. Ikit in addition to them we must notice three others, which have been shown to be clearly separ.dile. These three additional tjroups are the I'olys) nthctic, the Incori^oratinj^, and the Analytic. The rolysytithclic { = liicapsulatiiig) ortler is found amoiiL; certain savages, csj)ecially cjn the continent of America, where, according to Duponccau, more or less distinctive adhereiici' to this Ij'pe is to be met with from Greenland to Chili. The |)eculiarit)' of such languages consists in the indefinite com[)osition of words by s)'ncopc and elli[)sis. That is t(j sa\', sentences are formed by the running together of compouml words of inordinate length, and in the process of fusion the constituent words are so much abbreviated as often tt) be represented by no more than a single intercalated letter. For example, the Greenland aulisariartorasuarpok, " he-hasteiied- to-g(j-afishing," is made up oi ivilisar/'Ui UA\," pcdrtor, "to be engaged in an) thing," piiiiu'siinrpoK', ''he hastens:" and the Chippeway totoccabo, " w ine," is formed of ioto, " milk," with cliomiiiabo, " a bunch of grapes." Thus, pol)-sj-nthesis consists of fusion with contraction, some of the component words losing their first, and others their last .syllables. More- over, composition of this kind further differs from that which occurs in many other t)'i)es of language {e.g. owx adjectival itcvcr-to-bc-forgottcn), in that the constituent i)arts may never have attained the rank of independent words, which can be set apart and employed by themselves. The liuorpontting order is merely a subdivision of the agglutinative, and rei)resents an earlier stage of it, wherein the speakers had not >et begun to analyze their .sentences, and so still retain in their sentences subordinate words in MI.MAI. KVOLUJIOX I.\ MAX. iKJiJ ',n cuinhcrsonic variety, as, for example, " Ilouse-I-it-built ; " " Tlicy-have-theni tlieir-books." Aj^'ain, the Aitalylk order is merely a subdivision of the inflectional, and represents a later sta^^c of it. "One by one the t^rainmatical relations implied in an inflectional compound are brought out into full relief, and pro\ided with special forms in which to be expressed." Thus, in Imi'-^I''^'^ ^'^'^ example, inflections have laii^ely ^M\cn place to the use of " auxiliary " words, whereby most of the advanta_q;es of refined distincticni are retained, while the machinery of exi)ression is considerably simplifietl. So that, on the whole, ue may classify the Langua^c- kiiii^dom thus : — Order I. Isolating. Order II. A^^^i^lutinative : (Sub-orders, Polysynthctic antl Incorporatintjj). Order III. Inflectional : (Sub-order, Anal\tic). In the opinion of some philol-' ists, hovvever, the l\)l\'S}-n- thetic t)'[)e deserves to be reijarth i, not as a sub-onler of the Ajj^glutinative, but as itself independent of all the other three, auil therefore constituting a fourth order. Thus, on the one hand, we have it said that polysynthctic lanL;"uat;es must " .simply be placetl last in the asceiuliuL; order of the a!4"i;lutinalini^ series;"* while, on the other hand, it is said, " the conception of the sentence that underlies the polysyn- thctic dialects is the precise converse of that which underlies the isolating,' or the ay;glutinative tj-pes ; the several ideas into which the sentence may be anal)/ed, instead of bein;^ made ecjual or independent, are combined, like a piece of mosaic, into a sinL;le whole." ', These two representative quotations may serve to show how accentuated is the difference of teaching with regard to this particular group of lanL^uages. As a mere matter of classification, of course, the question would not be of any importance for us ; but as the question of classification * IIovL'lacciuc, loc. cit , ]>. 130. t Saycc, /iitiVifiiclioii, iri., i. 126. r COMPARA in !•: rillLOLOG ) ■. 2\\ )lysyil- of the three, le one must the said, ysyii- Icrh'cs ideas beiiiii :cc of show u'd to ter of [f any :ation involves one of pliNJoi^eny, the matter docs aw(iuire con- siderable interest in relation to our subject. TurniuL;, then, from the classification of lan^fua^;e-ty|)es to their ph)loj;en)', no one disputes that what I have called the sub-order Incorpcjratini; is geneticall\' connected with the ordi-r Ai,f^lutinativc ; or that the sub-ordmena 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 si)eech consists. Similarly, of course, agglutination must have preceded the inflection of ahead)- agglutinated words ; while the use of ■99eHi nn mm writ I < > I DH^if ' . I ^H > ( H 11 1 1 i aBa ^U ' ^ is 1 ' '■S^ MI-.XT.M. r.rOLUTIOX /.V .V.1.V auxiliaries can be provcti to have been historicall}- subsequent to inflection. Nevertheless, other philologists have shown good grountl 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 ph.'j.se, (^r phases, before reaching tiiat in which they now appear. The most recent argument on this side of the question is b}' Professor Sayce, whom, therefore, I will quote. " V\'e arc apt to assume that inflectional languages are inore liighly advanced than agglutinative f)nes, and agglutina- tive languages than is(jlating ones, and hence that isolation is the hnvest stage of the three, at the top of which stands flection. But what wc really mean when we say that one language is more advanced than another, is that it is better adai)ted to e.xpress 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." * 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, wc shall fmd that it implies an inferior logical faculty to that implied by agglutination." f IClsewhere 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 * Introduction, i^<-., vol. i., p, 374. t //'/V/., vol. i., I)]). 375, 376. COMTAKA III L fJ/JLO/.OG V. !i>3 uage, with ually 1 into t all e the Chinese, or of a,t;^liitinativc like the Magyar and Turkish, shows that the development is not a necessar)- one." * I coukl (juote other passages to the same effect ; hut the above are sufficient to show that ux must not unreservedly accept the earlier doctrines previously sketched. There is, indeed, no (piestion abuut the fact of language-growth as regards particular languages ; the question here is as to the evolution of language-t)[)es one from another. And I have given prominence to this (juestion in order to make the following remarks upon it. When wc are told that " the continued existence of iso- lating tongues like the Chinese, or of agglutinative tongues like the Magyar and Turkish, shows that the develo[)menl ;s not a necessary one," we of course at once perceive the unviuestimi- ablc truth of the statement. Hut 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 nut necessar}' ; but this fact raises no pre- sumption 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 wc say that one language is more advanced than another, is that it is better adapted to cxi)ress 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 '' viore cu/xui/ieed" 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 develoi)ment as a language For it may very well be that from the same origin two or more lines of development may occur in ilifferent tliiections. It is doubtless perfectly true, as Professor Sajce sa) s, that modern Chinese is a higher product of evolution than ancient Chinese along the line of i.solaling condensation ; but this is 11 Hi. i\ //liJ,, J). 120. Stc al.si) his riiiHiplcs oj Coiii/^aiiilhr l'hilolo^\\ p. IX. I i I t 'i'i 1 \i\ ' . il! '■-^1 m ! * I !t!l t { MEXTAI. F.VOI.rriO.X l.\ MAX. iio proof that the r>";L;lutinativc l,-injj;ua_i;cs did not start from an isolatini^ type, and thcM-caftcr i)rocccd on a diTlcrcnt line of development in accordance with their cHffcrent "f^enius," or method of i^rowth. Xaturah'sts entertain no doubt that two (hTffMvnt tvpes of morpholof^ical structure, b and /-J, arc both descended from a common parent form 1^, even thoui,di /; has "advanced" in one h'ne of chanj^c and \\ in anf)ther, so that both arc now ecpially efficient from a morplioloi^ical point of view. \\'h\', then, shouhl a philoh\L,n'st (h'spute t^enetic relationship in what apjicars to be a precisely analoi,a>us case, on the sole ^;v-"ik1 that b is, to hts thinking, no less [jsycho- logically efficient a language than \^ ? Lastly, as I ii;i\-c before indicated, it appears to me impossible to dispute that everj' agglulinati\-e language, in wliatever measure it can I)e proved to be agglutinative, in that measure is thcrel\\' i)roved to have been derived from a language less agglutinative, and therefore more isolating. And, similarh', in whate\er 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 inllcctive, or a language whose agglutinations had not \et undergone so much of the inllcctive modification. On the i)ther h.and, as there is no necessary reason why an isol.iting language should develop into pn agglutinative, or an agglutinative into an infiectional, it may very well be that the higher evolution of isolating tongues has proceeded collaterally with tliat of agglutinative, while the higher evolution of agglu- tinative has proceedoil collaterally with that of iiinectional. If this were so, both the schools of philology which we are considering would be equally right, aiul equally wrong: each wouM represent a different side of the same truth. Ihu-^ it ai^pears to me that, so f;ir as the purposes of the present treatise are concerned, wc may neglect the ([uestion of ph)'logenesis as between these three orders of languages. For, so long- as it is on all ii;i!i(ls agreed that the principles of evolution ar< nnivirsall}' concerm tl in the genesis of every language, it will ni.d«;e no difference to m\^ future argument -rtancc for us, inasmuch as it involves the question whether or not we have here to do \,'ith the most [Mimitive tj'pe of lan;j^ua_i;o. In the opinion of some |.'iilologists, "these polysynthetic lanp;uacjcs are an interesting^ -urvival of the earl)- condition of lans^nKiL^je cver)-where, and ar^ but a fresh proof that ^America is in truth ' tlie new world:' primitive forms of sjiccch that have elsewhere perished Ioiilj ai^^o still survive there, like the armadillo, to I)ear record of a b}'p[one past."* On the other hand, it is with equal certaii'.ty arfuiiied that " polysj-nthesis is not a primitive feature, but an expansion, or, if jou will, a second i)hase of ac^Ljlutination/' f Of course in dealinj:^ with this issue I can only do so as an amateur, quite destitute of authority in matters pcrtaininj^ to philoloLjy ; but the points on which I am about to speak have reference to principles so [j^encral, that in trj-ins^ them the iaj' mind may not be without its uses in the jurj'-box. Moreover, i)hiIolot,n'sts themselves are at i)resent so ill- informed touching; the facts of polysynthetic lan,t;ua;^c, that there is less presumption here than elsewhere in any outsider ottering; hi.s opinion upon the matters in dispute. J It is • S.iVL'o, liiti\H(iiction, Cr\\y i., IJ5, \i(->. t II(ivol;u:(iuo, Siiciuc 0/ l.i n,i^i(i>^i', ]>. 1. 50. X " What wc most need to nolo i-. ilii; very narrow liniilnlion of mir present kno\\K'ili;e. I'lven .inionj; tlu: neii^lilioiirinj; f.uuiliL's like the Al^on<|iiin, 'rro([iiois, an^l D.ikota, wliosc ii^'n-onient in style of structure (polysyntlielic), taken in ion- nection with the accordant rare-ty]"' of their speaker^, forbids us to rej^ari them ns idtiiualely dilferent, no material corie-pondence, a;.;reements in words and nieaninK-ii isi to lie traeed ; and there are in America ail dejjrees of poly.synlhetism, down to the lowest, and even lo its entire absence. Sueh lieini.; the ea'-e, it oujdii Id be evident that all attempts to cumieet .Ameriean ianjiuajjes as a body with .JJtMi : 1 ' . ' r ! 1 ' H' -it-- 1. ' i f E V 1 ■ ■i 256 MEXTAT. EVOirriOy IX MAX. lu)\vcvcr, umlcsir.ihlc to ()ccii|iy space witli aii)- tedious rehearsal of tlie facts on wliicli, after rcadiiii,' the more important Hterature of the subject, ni)' juil_L,Mneiit is based. I'\)r what it is woitli, this judj^ment is as follows. In the first place, it appears tf) me that those experts have an overwhelm in;j[ly stroni; case who ar<^uc in f.ivour of the polysynthetic lan.i;uai;cs as prescntint^ a hi^t^hly primitive form of sjicech. Indeed, so uiuliffcreiitiated do I think th(\- jMove this type of lauLjuaije-structure to be, th.it I acjrcc with them in concludiufj that it probably brint^s us nearer "the origin of speech " than an\- other tj-pe now extant. i''uilher- more. lookin;^ to the wide contrast between this t\*|)e and that which is presented 1)\- the isnlatinj^ tonfjues, it aj. pears to me impossible that the one can be {^fcneticaliy connected with the other. I'or it ap|)ears to me that tin- exjierts on the opposite side ha\e no less completel)- proved, that the isolatin;4 ton;4ues also present evidence of a hi^hl) [)rimiti\c origin ; and, therefore, that \\hale\er amount of e\'oIiition ami sub.scciuent degeneration (" ph!(! Win lil aii', ami must lu', fruiiliss: in lact, nil (ll.cu-'huins of till' mailer uit at prcsiMil unscienlillc " (l'iitft>sor Wliiliii-y \w Etuya, ////A, nit. " l'llilnl,.^;y," I,S85K %\ ro.\rr. i ra Tin-: riin.OLOc, y. ■^t ■"i 1 true .,h all nc :hcs iitetl Ice )*.' rts the )cnt — |ty.-as ir the in iwt h .lU isl two If., ail. t\-pcs of langiiapje-formatioii upon \viii:li the earliest materials of speech were moulded. I'or even the stronj^cst advocates of the polj'synthctic orii^in of speech do not venture to ([uestion the hit;h!y primitive nature of the nionos)llal)ic t)pe. Thus, for instance, Professor Sa\-ce is the principal upholder of the pol)'s)nthetic view, and yet he quotes the isolating forms of Chinese and 'J'aic as furnishinj^ "excellent illustrations of the early days of speech ;" * and he adduces them as "examples from the far h'-ast to show us the \\a)' in which our words first came into existence." t But if this is allowed to be so even by the leadinjj atlvocate of the pol}'- synthetic view, I catmot conceive the possibility of the one type havin^q; become so comi)lelel>' transformed into the other as to have left no trace in the isojatiui; tj-pe of its poly- sj'nthetic oriL;in. I'Or, in view of the above a been under the necessity of starting either on the monos\*llabic, the polysynthctic, or any other t)-pe exclusively. That the existing languages of the earth tlid originate in more than one centre is now the almost universal belief of com[)etent authonties.* 15ut too many of these authorities arc; still bound b\' what a[)j)ears to me the wholl}' 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 l)pe or "genius" is • "Tlic nuiuhcrof sciiaralc families of siieccii n()wc\isiin^ in iliu woild, wliirli cniuiiil W coiincctcil will) one anoilirr, is at least scvenly-livc ; and llio nuniljcr will (li)ul)lli.'>s l)c iniit'asfd when we have jjranmiars ami (liclii)iiaries of the nuiiurons lanj^ua^es and dialects which are still unknown, anil hi-Hcr information as re^jards those with which we are parlially ac(|iiainied. If we add to these I lie iiinimiiTalile (groups of speeidi which have p.issed away willioiii leaving hehin-i even such waifs as the Hascpte of the Pyrenees, or the I-ltniscan of ancient Italy, some idea will lie formed of the infinite numher of priin;vval centres or con- inunitii.- in which lanKU.i>;c tnok it- ii>e" (.Saycc, /nhviiHCtioii, C-i:, ii, J23). i COMIWRATIVE PIIILGLOG Y. 259 cases )ur of vcn it' is just wouUl logical c been ic rover MV)U^h i so, it which y and •ancc — related Hucntly Anil, if t)lc that enlly of ssily of ;, or any of the almost many "f nu; the )n, that ilTcrcnt family lias" is 01 1(1, \\llir!\ n' mimlnT ii-s of tlic nl'iirmatifiu ihcsc llio mH lichin-i licnt Iiitiy, cs i'' i. j33)- concerned. 15ut 'here is no basis for such an assumption, cither in the physiology or the [)sych()loL^y of niankind. On the contrary, if \vc look to tlio nearest analoi^ue of the cast.-, namely, the ji^rowing child, we may find abundant evidence of the fact that the earliest attempts at articulate utterance may occur on different t}'[)es, as we saw so strikini^ly proved by (quotations from Dr. Hale in a previous chapter. In this connection I would like to conclude the present cha[;ter by giviiit; prominence to an interesting and ingenious liN'pothesis, which has been suggested by Dr. Hale on the basis of the facts just alluded to. In order th.it the merits of this suggestion may be appreciated, it is ciesirable to remind the reader that tiie languages now spoken by the native tribes of the American continent present so man)' and such radical differences among themselves, that, with regard to a large proportion of them, philologists arc unable so much as to suggest any philological classification. Thus, to quote Professor Whittle)', "as regards the material of expression, it is full)- confessed th.nt there i.- irreconcilable diversity among them. Ihere are a very consiciM'able number of groups, between whose significant signs e.xist no more a|)parcnt corri-spondencies thati between those of Ivnglish, llungarian, ami Malay ; none, nair.ely, which inay not be merely fortuitous." * And, wli.it is most curious, these immense differences may obt.iin between neighbouring tribes wlio .ire to .ill appearance ethnologically identical — ;is, for instance, the Algonkin, Irotjuois, and Dakota groups. Moreover, this dixersity of l.mguage-structure in some cases goes so far as to reach the very roots of language-growth ; " the polys)-nthetic structure does not belong in the s.ime degree to all Amcricm l.inguages : on the contrary, it seems to be altogether effarcd, or originally w.inting, in some." f Na)', even the isolating type of language hiis gained a footing, anil this in its i)ropi ;ly monosyllabic and uninflectivc form. * Life atid iliowth of Lani;;iui'^i\ )). 259. t //'/(/,, p. 26.^, i^'" 'r. , I : I I)'!, (! 2'^0 MFXTAI. r.VOIlTIOX IX MAX. Such bciii,L^ the stale of innttors on the American coiili- nont (and also, though to a Icssir extent, in the Southern parts of llie African), Dr. Hale su;4;,;ests the follow in;^ h}'po- thesis by way of explanation. To inc it certainly appears a {)Iaiisihle one, and if it should eventually be found to furni'di .1 key for unlockinf:^ the mysteries of lan^aia,iTc-f[ro\vth in the New Workl, it would obviously become available as a suffi- cient explanation of radical diversities of lan}.fuaLje elsewhere. Starting; from the facts which I have already quoted fiom his paper at the close of my cha[)tcr on Articulation, he arnjucs that if children will thus spontaneously devise a languaj,fc of their own in a wholly arbitrary manner, even when surrounded by the spoken lan_L;uajj;^e of a civilized community, much more would chililren be likelv to do this if the)' should be acciilentall}' separated from human societ\', and thus thrown upon their own resources in an isolated condition. \ow, "if, under such circumstances, disease or the casualties of a hunter's life slK)uId 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 \-ear. \\\ ancient luMope, after the present climalioal condiiions were estab- lished, it is doubtful if a famil)- of chiklren under ten years of n;,jc could ha\e li\ed throut^h a siny;le winter. We arc not, therefore, surprised to fmd that no ni<")re than four or five jitiijuistic stocks are represented in Murope, and that all of them, excijjt the Hascjue, are believeil, on good evidence, to h.wc been (»f comparati^el}' late mtroduction. F-ven the ]Visq\ie is traced b}' sonu-, with much iirobaliility, 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 fooil in winter forbid us to suppose that a brood of orphan ehddren c', •/•/', 77V Iurbos(i), a 'low shrub,' whicli bears edible fruit; and the Californian horse-chestnut {,-lisciilns Gili/onniti), ' a hnv, spreatiing tree or shrub, seldom exceeding fifteen feel high,' which ' bears abimdant fruit nuich used by the Inilians.' Then there arc 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. i'owcrs infiunis us, the whitefish 'crowd the creeks in su.:h \ast numbers that the Indians, by simply throwing in a little brushwood to impede their motion, can litcrall)' scoop them out.' Shell-fish and grubs abound, and are greedily enti ii by the n.iti\es. Farth- worms, which are found rvf rywhere and at all seasons, are a j i '■• w I 'I ) 'J' oil! 4 i ! .11' 'til IJ'i'H l) V : ' ! f i; jjr, 2^2 MEXTAL F.VOI.VTIOX 1\ MAX favourite article of diet. As to clothinct\\een the most tlissimil.ir languages. . . . "A glance at other linguistic provinces will show how aptl}' this explanation of the origin of language-slocks everj-- where applies. Tro|)ical Hra/.il is a region which combines [)er[)elual summer with a [irofusion of edible fruits and other varieties of lootl, not less abundant than in Califcjrnia. llere, if an\\\here, th.ere should be a great number of totally distinct languages. We learn on the best authority, that of liaron J. J. von Tschutli, in the Introduction to his recent work on the Khelsluia Language, that this is the fact. He f I* co.yp.th'.i Til 7. rmr.or.oGV. 263 how VLT}'- )ilK'S el her krc, tally at of L'ccnt !lc sav's : — ' I possess a collection iikuIc bv the well-known natn- ralist, J. Natterer, dinin;^' his le-iidciice of many )-ears in Hra/.il, of more than a hnndred lan;4uaj»es, lexically com- pletely distinct, from the interior of Brazil.' And he ailds : — 'The number of so-calleil isolated lani^uacjes — that is, of such as, aocordinj^ to our present information, show no relationshii) to any other, and which therefore form distinct stocks ofi^reatcr or less extent — is in South America very lart^^e, and must, on an approximate e-.liinale, amount to many hundreds. It will perhaps be possible hereafter to include many of them in i.irj^er families, but there must still remain a considerable number for which this uill not be pos-sible.' " I ha\e quoted this hypothesis, as previously remarked, because it a[)pear.s to me phiUjlot^ically interestinLj ; but what- ever may be tlunr^ht of it by professional authorities, the eviilence which the American continent furnishes of a pol)-- Ljenetic and pol)t\'pic origin of the native lan>4uai;es remains the same. And if there is good reason fi>r concluding in favour of polygenetic origins of different t\pes as regards the languages on that continent, of course the probabilit)- arises that radical differences of structure among languages of the Old World admit of being explained by their having been ilerived from similarly inde[)endent sources,* * I may aild tlial llu' liypDllu'sis .i'liiiit> urcuiiulM. ration from ^(1urL■cs tiot men* tioiicd l)y its auiliui'. I'ur Arclulcauuii larrar wrote in lSi)5 : — " I lie nfyici'ti'l chililrun in sumo of tlic Caiunlian and Indian villa;4cs, who arc Ici't alone (or da)s, tan and lio invent for tlK•ln^elve■l a sort ui lingua /i,uh\i, partially or uliolly unintellit^iMc to all e\t;e|il llieni>elve.s ; " and lie (|Uotes Mr. K. Molt'al as *' tCMlifyin;; to a similar plicnomcnon in the villages (jf .South .Vliica (A/issioti 'J'nitv.'i)." He alio alludes to the fact that "deaf-mules have an instinctive power to ileveloj) for themselves a l.inyuai^e of sij;ns," which, as we have seen in an earlier ch-ipler, embraces ihe use of arbitrary articulations, even though in ihii case the speakers cannot themselves hear tlie sounds which they make. While this work is pavsinij ihroii^;!! the prcss an additional p.ipcr has liCf-ii pulilidud by Dr. Hale, entitlid, J he /hzd/o/'/iuii/ »/ LiUi^iiaj-i: It supplies further evidence in ^upfiort of this hypothesis. •u 264 MEXTAL E\OI.UIIO.\ L\ MAX. ('II \i'ti:r xiii. kf)Ors OK LA NC. I 'ACE. I\ the last chapter iny treatment of the classification and |)hyl(\i;cny of Ianij[iia;Tcs may have led the general reader to feel that philologists display extraordinary differences of opinion with reijard to certain first principles of their science, I may, therefore, betjin the present chapter by remindini,^ such a reader that I have hitherto been concerned more with the differences of opinion than with the agreements. If one takes a fjeneral view of the proj^ress of piiiloloj^ical science since philolo;j[)' — almost in our own generation — first became a science, I think he must feel much more impressed by the amount t)f certaintj' which has been attained than by the amount of uncertainty which still remains. And the uncertainty which docs remain is due rather to a backward- ness of stutl)' than to differences of inter[)retation. When more is known about the structure and mutual relations of the pol)'synthetic touL^ucs, it is probabl'j that a better a.t^Mcement will be anixed at touchinpj the relation of their common type to that of isolatin;^ tonj,nies on the one hand, and a.i,fi,dutinatin;^ on the other. Hut, be this as it may, even as matters staiiil at present, I think we have more reason to be surprised at the certainty which already attaches to the principles of philoloj^y, than at the uncertainty wliich occasionally arises in their applications to the comparatively unstudied branches of lin;.ruistic tjrowth. I'^urthermore, important as these still unsettled questions are from a purely i)hilologic.d point of view, they arc not of .3i|> 1^ the the Iwiird- Ahcii IIS of cttcr their Kind, even ;i.son \s to Ivhich ivcly [tions lot i.r HOOTS OF LAxar.ici:. 2<1: any f^rcat moment from that of the cvohitionist, as I ha\e already obser\ed. I"or, so lon^ as it is universally ai,n-ccil that all the lan.L;ua_c^c-groiips have been products of a gradual development, it is, comparatively spe.d'iinL,^ immatciiiil whether tlie 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 evolu- tionist is under no oblit^ation to es[)ouse either tlie monotypic or the polytypic theory of the origin of language. There- fore, it will make no material difference to the folh^wing discussion whether the reader feels disposed to follow the dcjctrine, that all languages must have originated in such monosyllabic isolations as we now meet with in a radical form of speech liUe the Chinese ; that the)' all originated in .such polysynthetic incapsulations as we now fnid in the numberless dialects of the American Inilians; or, lastly, and as I myself think much more probabl}, that both these, and possibly other t}-[)es of language-structure, are all ecpially primitive, lie these things as the)* ma\-, m\- discussion will not be overshadowed by their uncertainty. For this uncertainty has reference only to the ori^i^iii of the existing language-types as independent or gcneticall\' allied : it in no way affects the certainty of their subsequent cvohitioii. Much as philologists may still differ upon the mutual relations of these several language-tj'pes, they all agree that " von der ersten luitstehung der Sprachwurzeln an bis zur Ihkhnig der volkommenen Fle.xionssprachcn, wie des Sanskrit, Griechischen, oder Deutschen, ist Alles in der ICntwicklung der Sprache verstiindlich . . . Sobald nur die Wurzeln als die fertigen Bausteine der Sprache einmal da sind, kisst sich Schritt fiir Schritt das W'achsthum des .Sprachgebaudes verfolgen." * Tiierefore, having now said all that seems necessary to say on the question of language-t)-pes, I will pass on to lation that uc possess on the subject of angunge-roots. po« Wiiuili, l\'i'i:ut>i^cit, c-'.., ii., 3.S0, 381. H \\. iMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 11.25 |J0 ""■• 1^ Hi I- u ■.Jul- 1.4 2.5 22 20 1.8 1.6 c Photogra^ihi Sciences Corporation 33 WIST MAIN STRUT WIBSTIR, N.Y. USSO (716) 872-4S03 4is »

() sheer mutual solatcd in it is t types )2ist as ; is the lel of a used in •esented nograJii) -historic ibitcd is d, as we niay at ory does Is, out of lUst have Ditcd the sound, whether used in losyllabic cssion of ning. In theory as he says enied the ication it not."1I )ng philo- logists is not one of great importance for us, I will hcnceforlh disregard it. And, as it will be conducive to brcvit\', if not also to clearness, I will speak of roots as archaic words, although b)' 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. \Vc may next consider the kind of meanings which roots convey. . tecedcntly 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 arc 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 Mliller 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 Profess »r Max Mliller 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, poiiiul, destroy, waste, rub, smooth. 4. Sharpen. 5. Smear, colour, knead, harden. 6. Scratch. 7. Bite, cat. 8. Divide, share, eat. 9. Cut. 10. Gather, observe. 1 1. Stretch, spread 12. Mix. 13. Scatter, strew. 14. Sprinkle, drip, wet. 15a. Shake, tremble, quiver, flicker. 15b. Shak."!, mentally, be angry, abashed, feartuUy, etc. 16. Throw di)wn, fall. 17. P'all to pieces. 18. Shoot, throw at. 19. I'iercc, split. 20. Join, fight, check. ^i mnwr.^ ij" 1 r ■■ ' ' ii- : ^ 'i Hi >. 1 fi !|fi)"'' • ^-■' i *: : 1.: rfilli l(S :m ^. ■ o ME.\TAL EVOLUTJOX IX MAX. 21. Tear. 65. Bear, carry. 22. Break, smash. 66. Can, be strong. ^3- Measure. 67. .Show. 24. Blow. 6-!. Touch. 25. Kindle. 69. Strike. 26. Milk, yield. -JO. Ask. 27- Tour, (low, rush. 71- Watch, observe. 28. Separate, free, leave, lack. 72. Lead. 29. Cilean. 73- .Set. 3'5. CliOnsc. 74- Hold, wield. 3t- Cook, roast, boil. 75- Give, yield. 3^- Clean. 76. Cough. Wash. 77- Thirsty, dry. 34- Bend, bow. 7H. Hunger. 35- Turn, roll. 79- Yawn. 36. Press, fix. 80. Spue. yi- St[ueezc. 81. Fly. 3S- Drive, thrust. 82. .Sleep. 39- Push, stir, live. 83- Bristle, dare. 40. Burst, gush, laugh, beam. 84. Be angry, harsh. 41. Dress. 85. Breathe. 42. Adorn. 86. Spca. 43- .Strip, remove. 87. Seek. 44. Steal. 88. Hear. 45- Check. 89. Smell, sniff. 46. Kill, thrive, swell, grow 90, Sweat. strong. 91. Seethe, boil. 47- Cross. 92. Dance. 48. Sweeten. 93- Leap. 49. Shorten. 94. Creep. 50. Thin, suffer. 95- Stumble. 51- Fat, stick, love. 96. Stick. 52. Lick. 97- Burn. 53- Suck, nourish. 98. Dwell. 54- Drink, swell. 99. Stand. 55- Swallow, sip. 100, Sink, lie, fail. 56. \'omit. lor. Swing. 57- Chew, cat. 102. Hang down, lean. 58. Open, extend. 103. Rise up, grow. 59- Reach, strive, rule, have. 104. Sit. 60. Conquer, take by violence, 105. Toil. struggle. 106. Weary, waste, slacken 61. Perform, succeed. 107. Rejoice, please. 62. Attack, hurt. 108. Desire, love. 63- Hide, drive. 109. Wake. 64. Cover, embrace. no. Fear. ti ROO'IS OF LAXGUAGE. 271 111. Coiil, icfichih. I \z. Stink. 113. Hate, 114. Know. 115. Think. 116. Shine. 117. Run. 1 18. Move, '^o. 119a. Noise, inarticulate. 119b. Noise, music.il. 120. Do. 121. Be. i "These 121 concepts constitute the stock-i'n-ti-ade with which I maintain tliat 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." * 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 intclli'^ible 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 acti\ity of any such Scicihc cf 'l'hoiii:;hl, p. 549. , t ;/l, !i :»■•:: . .ili I }' ■,i 4 li 1 1 ■/- MENTAL KVOLUTIOX IX .VAX. vital importance to the needs of a primitive communit}-, as to demand priority of naminjr by any aborit,n'nal framcrs of lani;uac^c. Moreover, as Professor Max Miiller himself else- where 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 b\' to squeeze ; to glean by to gather ; to steal by to lift. . . . If we see how many special purjjoses can be served by one root, as /, to go, or Pas, to fasten, the idea that a dozen of roots might have been made to supply the whole wealth of our dictionar\', appears in itself by no means so ridiculous as is often supposed." * 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 bv 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." f It might have been suitably added that such " concepts" as to dig, to plat, to milk, &c., betoken a condition of pastoral life, which, as we know from abundant evidence, is representative of a ccjmparatively high level of social evolution, t l^ut if "many" of these concepts are thus * Schiicc of 'I hoir^ht, y^. 551, 552. t //'/ tills 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 systoit of animistic thought.* And, if these things were so, there is nothing remarkable in words significant of actions having alone survived as roots.! 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 * " It must be borne in mind that primitive man did not distinguish jjctween phenomena and volitions, but included everything under the head of actions, not only the involuntaiy 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 pu:ely inanimate phenomena as fire, electricity, &c, ; in short, all the changing attributes of things were conceived as voluntary actions " (Sweet, Words, Logic ami Gramma}; p. 4S6). t 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 aj^ijiositions, &c.) ; and also by tracing the origin of many of them to other parts of speech. (See especially Garnett's Essays, Pritcliard on tJie L'dlic Languages, Quart. A'c-z:, Sept. 1S76 ; YV/c Derivation of Words from Pronominal and LWpositional Roots, I'roc. IViiloi. Sor. vol. ii, ; and On the Nature and .-Inalysis of the I'erh, ibid., vol. iii.) Later on it will be shown that in the really primitive stages of language-growlh 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 alistraction than that of a noun. . . . We cannot accept it as even fossilde that from roots meaning to shine, to be bright, names were formed for sun, moon, stars, &c. . . . In some places, indeed. Professor Miiller appears to hold the correct view, that at fust 'loots' stood for any and every part of speech, just as the monosyllabic expressions of children (\o^'' {Chapters on Language, pp. 196, 197; see, also, some good remarks on the sunject by Sir (jraves Ilaughton, Bengali Grammar, p. loS). \\ hi H I ■; M i I ' ! n.«K 'Ml ul> r, H! f:; ■J! i I 276 MEXT.ir. r.voF.vnox ix max. words that have been handed down to us as roots — has a still more important bearing upon another of Professor Max Miiller'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 .:nc^-ch 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 ary vestige of real evidence could be adduced to show that this " must have been " the case, most of the foregoing chapters of the present woik 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 t ly 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 dc nuvo 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 interruptetl 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 overwhelm- ing 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 MuUer relies. This evidence consists merely in fact that the "121 original ROOTS OF LA\au.iGi:. ■/ / 11 see in [whelm- leed, so ^ced all of f to point M one broo ax jrisrin al 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 Ar)'an 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 sur- viving a> a root that it should prove itself a prolific parent of other words, obviousl)- it is those n^ords which were expres- sive of ideas presenting some degree if generality that would have had the best chance of thus c )ming down to us, even from the comparatively high level of ctilturc 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 primi- tive 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 iinincasurahly remote from that of any speechless progenitor of Hotno sapiens ; and in the enor- mous interval (whatever it may have been) many successive generations of words must certainly have flourished and died.* 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 • " Standst du dabei, als sich der Brust dcs noch stumnien Urmcn;5clien der erste Sprachlaut entiang? und verslandst du Ihn ? Oder hat man dir die Urwur- zeln jener ersten Menschcn vor hundert tauscnd Jaliren iibcrliufert ? .Sind das, was du als Wiirzeln hinstellst, und was wirklich Wurzeln sein mogen, auch Wurzeln der Urzeit, unveriinderte Reflexlaute ? Sind jene deine Wurzeln alter als sechstausend, als zehntausend Jalire ? und wie viel mogen sie sich in den friilieren Jahrzehntausenden veraiidcrt haben ? wie mag sich ihre IJedcutung vcrandert haben?" (Steinthal, Ze'ds, h. J'ol/cT/yscIi. u. S^rachiviss., 1867, s. 76), i|! i ■• f ^!J : : I, U r i\' li 1. 27S MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX. " generality " than belongs to what I have called a " pre-con- cept," I.e. a " named recept." liut precisely the same con- siderations apply to both. For, even supposing that a named recept was originally a word used only to designate a "ppr- ticular" 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 — ie. 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 resem- blance 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. I5ut the kind of classification with which concepts are concerned is that which lies furthest from this purely automatic grouping of perceptions. Classi- fication there doubtless is in both cases ; but in the one order it J^OOTS OF LA XG LUGE. '-79 ppr- is due to the closeness of resemblances in an act of perception, while in the other it is clue to their remoteness." * Of course it goes without sayinij that this " closeness of resemblances in an act of perception " may be due cither 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 < )f 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 palaeontology 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 be- tween classification as receptual and conceptual — i.r. as given immediately in the act of perception itself, or as elaborated v.f set purpose through the agency of introspective thought, Professor Max Miiller founds his whole argument on another and an unreal distinction : he everywhere regards the bestow- ing 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 .cs higher receptual life prior to the advent of self consciousness. Or, as Geiger tersely says : — " In enzelnen Fallen ist die Entstehung von Gat- tungsbegriffe aus Mangel an Unterscheidung gleichwohl kaum zu bezweifeln." f * Siipra^ p. 68, d set/. t Urspruui:; dcr Sj>ra(/ii\ s. 74. To llie same ciTcct, .ind from tlic sido ii." psyclidlogy, I mny quote \\'uii(lt ; — " Oft hat man ilcsshalh in (Ur Spi-.iclic ciiicn ; i ti 2oJ MENTAL EVOLUTION L\' MAN. • \ X I i M I''^^ III ■■ Again, if \vc 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 super-abundance of names, general terms are correspondingly rare." And he gives a number of remarkable illustrations.* In view of these considerations, my only wonder is that these 120 root-words do not present better evidence of con- ceptual thought. I have already given my reasons for refus- ing to suppose that we have here to do with the " original " framers of spoken language ; and looking to the compara- tively 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.f 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 ]"arrar 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 Ubergang vom Aljstrakten zum Konkreten zu finden geglaubt, well dieselbe thatsiichlich zunaclist umfasseiuleie, dann individuelleie Vorstulluiigen bezeichnet und erst zuletzt wicderdie Naincii individi'.eller Objektc zu riemeinnamcn stempell. Aber was am Anfang dicser Roihe liegt ist ctwas ganz anderes als was den Schliiss derselben bildet : Gcmeinnamen sind wiikliclic Zeichcn fiir AllgemeinvorstclliiiigcM und HegrilTe. Jene erstcn N'orstcIIiingen, welchc das Bewusstsein bildet und die Spraclie ausdiiickt, sind niclil .•y/4''s, 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 root.s, 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 lan- guage were expressive of general ideas.* And this conclusion involves another of scarcely less * Professor Max Miiller says in one ]ilace, "Tlie Science of l.angiuii^e, by inquiring into tlie origin of general terms, has establi>lieil two facts of tlie higlicNt importance, namely, first, that all tcinis were originally general ; and, secondly, i^ , ( E 'f!';: H i ■ Hi 2S2 MEXTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX. 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 onomatopoeia, or the im.itation by articulate names of sounds obviously dis- tinctive 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 intcrjectional 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 * or by the results of philogenetic inquiry.f It is, however, forgotten by those who argue on this side that names of onomatopoetic origin tliat they could not be anything but general " {Sciettcc of T/ioiti^/if, p. 456). I'llsewiiere, 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 convic- tion that before that time there was a prehistoric period iluring which language followed an opposite direction. During that period roots, beginning with special '.leanings, became more and more generalized, and it was only after reaching that stage that they branched off again into .special channels" (//'/l" "for m prising ', s. I6). re quite live that to being ■)po>ition lU. in his must always be, in the first instance, particular ; that so lon^i^ as they remain particular (as, for example, is the case with our word " cuckoo "), they Cijinot 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 onomatopceia in itself furnishes a strong pre- sumption 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 IVIr. Darwin gave me the following particulars with regard to a grand- child of his own, who was then living in nis 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 ap[)reciation 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 significa- tion, until it now serves to designate such apparently dilTcrcnt objects as ' fly,' ' wine,' and ' coin.' " t? % \ >H MEXTAL EVOLUTIOX IX A/AX m' r'\ i i fi '-.< ^Vl' ' ii','. 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 c^ its meaning should have taken place. In other words, xwt can see very good reason to conclude that, as a rule, only those instances of primitive onomatopoeia 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,* 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 ; ^s/ai, to sneeze ; prot/i, to snort ; ma, to bleat, and not a few others, are conceded, even by Professor Max Miiller, to be of obviously imitative ';!!•'■'"■ .i * It is needless to say that innumerable instances might be quoted of this metaplioric.il 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 metapnor must have been at work." For further examples of the same principle, sec ibid., pp. 234, 251, 252.) ROOTS or LANGUAGE. 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 onomatopoeia may go, and if once we know its legitimate sphere, we shall be less likely to wish to extend it beyond its proper limits," * 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. f 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 subse- quently 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 utter- * Science of nought, pp. 317, 318. t Or, as Heyse puts it, many onomatopneias 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). !>'( ) ' tj n 286 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. 1 ' ■Hf ance cHrfers widely even among different races of existing nicn, so that the onomatopoctic words of one race do not convey any imitative suggestion to the minds of another.* 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 dilfercntly, and so be rei)resented in articulate speech in a strangely varying manner." f Another very good illustration of the same point is to be found in the names for a grass-hopper 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 "i Simply by the fact to which it is so often necessary to recur, that words arc not mere imitations, but subjective echoes and reproduc- tions — repercussions which are modified both organically and ideally — which have moreover been immensely blurred and disintegrated by the lapse of ages." % 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, § and the other by Pott. || While in nearly all the languages the * " Nichtsdcstowcnijjcr lilcibt es cine wicluigc psychologischc Thatsaclic, (lass die Laute eiiien oni)niat()]ioctisclicn NN'eitli liaben, dass wir dicsen Wcitli lieute nocli fiihlen. Nur ist dieses Gefiihl nicht siclier genug, iini als wissen- schaftlicher Bcweis zu geltcn, wie es dcnn auch bei den verscliiedenen Raccn \crscliiedcn isl. Die Sjnaclien der niongnlischen Race haben ziir liezeichnung von Naturereignissen vicle Onomatopoien, welche wir niclit mitfiihlen. Und das isl weder zu veiwuiidern, nocli ist es ein Bewcis gegen die gcistige Einheit des Menscliengcsciilechles. Das (Jcfidil wird ja vielfach durch Associationcn der ^'orstelIllngen bestimmt. Andcre Associationen aber walten im Kaukasicr, andere ini Mongolcn" {Zi'i'/s. b. I'olkcrpsych. u. SjTac/ni'isscii., 1S67, s. 76). t Introduction^ &-'€., i., p. loS. lie points out that " bilbit, glut-glut, and /u Is, arc all attemi^ts to represent the same sound." J Chapters on Language, p. 154. § Ucber Namen lirs Donncrs, 1855. II Stcinthal's Zcitschrift, is.<:. ROOTS OF LAXGUAGF.. !S7 itsaclic, \Vcitli wisscii- Raccn clinung nd das leit des icn der ikasicr, principle of imitation is more or less clearly apparent, the greatest diversities occur among the resulting sounds.* In this connection, also, I may adduce yet one further consideration. In his Introduction to the Science of Lan- gn(7gc, 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. \i\c\\ 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 arc 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 * Professor Max Miiller has argued that in tlie Indo-European langiia,q;es tlic apparently onomatopoetic words signifying "thunder "are derived from tlie rout tan, to "stretch," and therefore nerc 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" {Oi-igin of Language, p. 82). S.e aUo, C/iapli-rs on /.angtiagc, pp. 17S-1S2 ; Heyse, Sys/t-iii, s 93 ; and W'uudt, ]'ortcsinigcn, Crr., ii. 396. 11 ; '■ H ,i I : }■ I; I ! Hi !.:! p ^- .t i 1 1 j| 11 3? 1 1 ( fti:j: ,|:| l:^i:. 2S8 MEXTAL EVOLrriOX IX MAX. excellent and most forcible epitome which is given of it by Archdeacon Farrar in his works on the Origin of Lan- guage and Chapters on Language.* The foregoincj remarks, therefore, which I have made on the negative side of the question, are merely intended to show that the element of onomatopoeia 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 Muller 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. Noire. 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 dis- turbance 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 * See also Nodier, Diclioiuiairc des Oiiomatopces ; and Wedgwood, Dictionary oj English Etymology. '" -ii ROOTS OF LANGUAGE. 2 89 would not merely admit of immediate understandincj on the part of others, but, what is even of more importance, they would, by the mere fact of such conventional usac^e of names, elevate what had previously been but a rcceptual 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 onomatopoeia. So that primitive names were intentionally imitative of natural sounds, for all the pur- poses 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 M tiller, I may be allowed to designate Noire's special branch of the onomatopoetic theory as the Yeo-he-ho theory, it appears to me impossible to distin- guish 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.* * Probably the explanation of this apparent inconsistency is to be found in the fact that Noire's special version of the onomatopoetic theory conies within easy distance of a hypothesis which Max Miiller had himself previously sanctioned. This hypothesis, originally propounded by Ileyse in his System dcr Sprach-i I, ,! 1 296 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN, in alien ihren Theilcn als Ganzes und demnach organisch entstanden." * 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 ; " f and, therefore, that historically the sentence preceded the word. Or, otherwise and less ambigu- ously 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 func- tions 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 conceiition 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 Aliiller poii ts out, "if a child says 'Up,' that /// is, to his mind, noun, "erb, 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." % * .SchelLng, Einl. in die P/ii/os, . '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.' " * 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 ; " f 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." % * Science of Thought ^ 423-440. t Saycc, IntroductioK, &'(-., i. iil. % il''^-, i- 113, 114. a .'iJi:;'. > ■ 1 nm 'n:u mm , mm 300 MENTAL EVOi^UTION IN MAX. "The makinjT 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 >) * Or, to give only one more quotation, as Professor Max Miiller 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, neverthe- less, the distinction between noun and verb, nay, between subject and predicate, is not yet realized." f 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. X No exception to this general statement can be made even as regards the personal pronouns. "Hie, iste, tile, are notoriously a sort of correlatives to ego, tii, sni, and, if the custom of the languages had allowed it, might, on every occasion, be substituted for them." § 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. / being equivalent to this one, he or she or // 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 Sayce, Introduction, cr=r., i. I2i. X Garnett, Philoio. Essays, p. 87. t Science of Thought, p. 242. § Ibid., 77, 78. i THE WITNESS OF Pill LO LOGY. 301 source of these highly ancient " pronominal " or " demonstrative elements," it is easy to imagine that they may have arisen in the same apparently pontancous 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 vulin, ma (Greek /ut, Latin vie) is earlier than aham (tytov and ego)." * 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 r^Iiiller, who of all philologists is least open to suspicion of bias * l''arrar, Orii^nii of Language, p. 99. The passage continues, "We miylu have conjectured this from the fact already noticed, that ciiildren learn to speak of themselves in the tliird person — i.e. regard themselves as objects — long helore they acquire the power of representing their material selves as the instrument of an absti act entity." He also alludes to "some admirable remarks to this effect in Mr. F. Whalley Harper's excellent book on the JWrr 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 u])on 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 ithin, 'I,' is still 'a man' in Lamjiong, and the Kawi ugioang, 'I,' cannot be separated from mcang, 'a man'" (.Sayce, Introdtution, 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 liereinbrechcn, stihjektlose Urtheile sind, und dass die Pradikate derselben stets eine sinnliche Vorstellung ausdriicken. ' Es leuchtet es gliinzt, cs tiJnt,' — solcher Art sind die Urtheile, die der Mensch zuerst denkt und zuerst ausspricht. Jenes Pr'adikat, dass sogleich bei der Wahrnehmung eines Gegenstandes sich aufdriingt, wird zur Bezeichnung des Gegenstandes selber. ' Das Leuchtende, Glanzende, Tiinende,' — solcher Art find die Wiirter, die urspriinglich in der Sprache gebildet werden" (Joe. eii., ii. 377). ;■'''. -t ■il '■■ KVri' •Il PV^ 302 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. 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 tlien, this [ = 1], tliat [ = 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." * 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." f Again, " it was one of the characteristic features of Sanskrit, and the other Aryan languages, that they tried to distinguish the various applica- tions 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." \ 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." § * Science of Thought, p. 221. t Ibid., p. 554. X Ibid., 241. § Sayce, Introduction, &'c., ii. 25 ; see also to the same effect, Bleek, Urs/>rung dcr Sprache, 70-72 ; F. Miiller, Grundriss dcr Spmclnuissenshaft, I., i., s. 40 ; and Noire, 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. Rut it seems to nie 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 i^L Tim WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY. 303 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 com.e 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 v/hich 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." * 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 nc, signify ' I do it,' or 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. * Jtttraduciion, &^c,, i. I17. - 1 J . If hi-li Sii\\' 'li i «l|iU„ : 304 MEXTAL EVOLUTION IN MAX. ' You do not,' accordint; to the context and the [vestures of the speaker. Here by degrees, with tl.e growth of conscious- ness 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." * 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 /^r 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 bctiveen substantives and adjectives, or object-words and qualiiy-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 " cannon- * Introtiiution,^c.,'\\. 2,01. Or, as Wundt puts it, " Die demonstrative Wurzel ist dalier eine denionstrirende rantomimc in einen Laiil iibersetzt " (Vorlcsiin^vii, &-•<-„ ii. 392). THE WITNESS OF miLOLOGY. 305 ball," or "pocket" in "pocket-book," &c., arc 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 in- dependent 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 re- sponsible 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.' " * 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 * Sayce, Inlroduclion, dr'c., i. 415. See also F. Miiller, loc. cit., I. i. 2, p. 2, for another statement of the same facts referred to by Sayce. : 3o6 ME ATA L EVOLUTIOX LV MAX. W ' ^ 1 'iip . '1' ' »l I 1 w W'l' 1 , Siil ii speaker, gradually gave way to the later and more refined machinery of suffixes, auxiliaries, -^nd the like." * 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.'-' f Lastly, upon this point Professor Ma.x Miiller 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." % * Sayce, Introduction, &^c,, i. 416. t Sweet, Words, I.o^ic, and Grammar, in Trans. Philo. Soc\, 1867, p. 493. X Science oj 7 hought, p. 442. ! I THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY. 307 I 'i 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 those arose through the apposition of substantives with the genitives of pronouns.* And there can be no doubt that in many actually existing languages the functions of predication arc still di.schargel 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 prevlousl)' 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, " dlgging-here" = labour, "digging-there" = hole,t &c. Or again, " ' The hole is dark ' would have been expressed origin- ally (in Aryan) b}' 'digging-it,' 'hiding here,' or, 'hldlng- somewhert ' ' Hldlng-herc ' 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." | 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 • See especially Garnett, On the Xaliire and Analysis oj the Wib. t Science of 7 h ought, p. 223. X lbid,y p. 442. 3o8 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. II''?!' % y^ ■S-- 1 4 f \y . e!^ later origin than many verbs, and vice versa ; 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 psycho- logical grounds, and from the analogy furnished by children, we might be prepared to think it most probable that sub- stantives preceded verbs ; and this view is no doubt corrobo- rated 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." * 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 repre- sents the truth is a matter of no importance for us. With or without verbs, primitive man would have been nb'e ? pre- dicate — in the one case after the manner of el ' vvho 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 language that the two are phonetically identified. Nevertheless, ev^ r. 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 c?rly, not to spy * Sayce, Introduction^ ^c. ■ M i jj THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY. 309 t this does eceded the e likely to In psycho- y children, I that sub- bt corrobo- :ain savage er of pure he noun, or say, " they epoch and cnce repre- s. With or ble o pre- •M:-.': ivho n the other itioned, who jnouns, the ive laid so iscd by the lere devote philological ve already ve followed id, with the |e language lieless, ev< r. opponents elf: forced to do with esent that conceptual opponents not to spy 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.* 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 nin ijioua) or n^'ri {haia) may very probably be derived from an onomatopoeia of respiration. The verb kania, which has the same sense, means primitively ' to stand out,' and the verb kouni, 'to stand,' passes into the sense of 'being.' In Sanskrit, as-ini (from which all the verbs-substantives in the Indo-European languages are derived, as tlin),sum, am ; Zend n/iif/i ; Lithuanic, esf/ii, Icelandic, cvi, &c.) is, properly speaking, no verbal root, but ' a formation on the demonstra- tive 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, d/iu {^vio^fui, &c.) and sthd [stare, ike), 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 zvalking or standing or eating?'"^ 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 * I refer the re.itler to what is said on both the^e aspects of the verl) in (luestion liy my oj)ponents (see [ip. 165-167.) t Farrar, Orii^in 0/ Lant^uage, pp. 105, 106. ^t ■■ -i M'' i 1ir> MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IN MAN. ^grammarians have been accustomed to represent this element as forming the basis of all verbal expression, and as a neces- sary 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 repe- i.'ton of the same general phenomena. the portion of the essay relating to the Coptic, it was obsL! d : ' 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, Sec, though there is a counterpart to Lat. Jicri (st/iopi) and another to poui {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, ti\ 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 THE WITXESS OF PHILOLOGY. 3" • Petrus est,' ' Maria est,' ' Homines sunt,' it is quite sufficient, and perfectly intelligible, to say, ' Petrus hie,' ' Maria ha.^c,' ' 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 arc 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, iios fios, for ego sum, nos siinius, or ego ille, nos illi. The phrase ' Yc 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 upoii a footing with the phlogiston of the chemists of the last generation, regarded as a necessary pabulum of combustion, that is to say, vox ct praterea nihil. ... If a given subject be 'I,' 'thou,' 'he,' 'this,' 'that,' ' one ; ' if it be ' here,' ' there,' ' yonder,' ' thus,' ' in,' 'on,' ' at,' ♦i r W ' H ' ..A ! 'if I. I" H |i I I! I Ik ■. : 11 312 MEXTAL EVOLUTIOy IN' MA.V. ' 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." * 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, wc 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, sufTixcs, affixes, prepositions, copulas, particles, and, in short, all inflections, agglutinations, or other parts of speech which are concerned in the indication of relationsJiip 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 * Garnett, On the Xaturc and Analysis of the Verb, Proc, Philo, Soc, vol. iii, THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY. 313 condition-words. Roughly speaking, this classification corre- sponds 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." * 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 tentenccs. More- over, as in the one case there is life, in the other case there is meaning; but the meaning, like the life, is vague and * Sayce, Introduction, d-'i'., i. 415. ,|( M ;t-( X 314 ME ST A L EVOLUTIOX L\ MAX. uncvolvcd : the sentence is an organism without organs, and is generah'zcd 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 philologicrd 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." * v\-i F' ' 4 1: If" '\ '• 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 pala;ontology of language, predication can scarcely be said to have been differentiated * Gciger, Dcvelopmtnt of the Human Race, English trans., p. 22. THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY. j'3 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 deliglit 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,' 'contiimance 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 attri'iute 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." * " Now comes a very important consideration, that not only is the order of subject and predicate to a great extent con- ventional, 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 * Sweet, Words ^ Logic, and Grammar, in Trans, Philol. Sec, 1876, pp. 4S6, 487. ' -1 i i, I V V. III:: m 1!: m llr^^ \m "■■■ 1 : i'ljii ,i ■'' ■'' 11 ' r ■m j •■'■ ; i ii 316 ME XT A L EVOLUTION IN MAN. necessity for a subject at all : in such a sentence as ' It rains," there is no subject whatever, the it and the terminal s bein.L> 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 pro- position ' 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 simul- taneously \i.e. in apposition'], not one after the other, as we are forced to express them in speech. The simultaneitj' of con- ception 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 elinvinated that part of the science which is really nothing more than dn imperfect analysis of language." * 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.t 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 ex- tension, bed, bolster, bed-elothes, &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 * Sweet, loc. cit,, pp. 489, 490. t Bleek, Urspnmg der Sprache, s. 69, 70. THE WITNESS OF PITILOT.OGY. 317 they brini:j us within easy distance of the time when there can have been no such forms at all. Even Professor Max Muller allows that there are still existing languages "in which there is as yet no outward difiference 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 / 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 vat, 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," * 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 pi licate 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, * Science of Thought, p. 241. Illl ,, i ■\ ■ '' i ■ s 3i« MENTAL EVOLUTIOX I.V MAX. " Ile-with-whitc with-jackct," or, as \vc mi^dit perhaps more tersely translate it, " He jackety whitcy." * Again, in Fecjee language the functions of a verb may be discharged by a noun in construction with an oblique pro- nominal suffix, e.g., lo)n(Ti-qii = \\c?Lr\. or will-of-me, = I will.f 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 clement is admitted to be indifferently substantive, adjective, verb, or particle." % "I will eat the rice," would require to be rendered, "The-eating-of-mc-the-rice= My eating will be of the rice." "The supposed verb is, in fact, an abst'-act 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 tra 'tive verb ; and that, too, in a construction where we shoulc ^ct that true verbs would be infalliblj' employed, if any existed in the language." § 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." || 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 * Steinthal, Chamkkristik, ^c, 165, 173. t Garnett, Philologica! Essays, p. 310. X Ibid., p. 311. § Ibid., p. 312. II Ibid., p. 314. THE IVITXESS OF PHILOLOGY. 319 paid 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 wc 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 clement 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 inter- mediate 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.' " * 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 " Agc-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 * See Chapter on Speech, p. 166. I ' «■ c,v 320 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IN MAN. copula, but also an absence of an\' 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 proposi- tion as this was given in the Aristotelian system of logic — an analysis which, in turn, dcoends 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 cither 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 sm.piest 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.* * I may remark that it was Aristotle who first fell into the error of identifying the copula with the verb to be, liy which it happens to be expressed in Greek. For many ^enturies afterwards this error was a fruitful source of endless confusions ; but it is curious to finil a wholly new fallacy springing from if ' ; the latter half of the nineteenth century. Touching the subject and predicate, Aristotle, of course, never contcmplpted any more primitive relation between them than that which obtained in the only forms of speccli with wliich he was acquainted. As regards his " categories " the following remarks by Professor Max Midler 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 Ari?tolle accepted them simply as the given forms of predication in Clreek, 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 wliich these Griek words, and all our own words anil thoughts, too, first assumed a settled form. While Aristotle took all his words and sentences as given, and ~ ' \\ THE WirXESS OF rillLOLOGY. 321 en the s now ise the kewise re man )rm of highest lent on )roposi- gic — an e Greek I of this 'n either lubt the ,vhich is ire kept f day to obtained epresent of the me so ;an have identifying in Greek. Iconfusions ; [tter lialf of of course, Itliat which lAs regards are worth limmarians, Ld thought. |(Uration in its words, by which [assumed a [given, anil Quitting, then, all these old-world fallar* - which were based on an absc.ice of information, we 1^1 -t accept the analysis of predication as this has been supplied to us b}' the advance of science. And this ana.v^"'^ has proved to demonstra^^'on, that "the division of the sentence into two parts, 1-b.vi subject and the predicate, is a mere accident ; it is not known to the polysynthctic 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." * 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 pre- dication 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. simply analyzed them in order to discover how inniiv kinds of predication they contained, we ask how we ever came into possession of such words as horse, 'white, many, grcatt-i; hen; ftmi; I stand, I fear, I ait, I am nit. Anybody who is in possession of such words can easily predicatv but we shall now have to show that every word by itself was from the first a ] itotlebeen a Mexican, his system of logic would have assumed a wholly different foim." ll -»->'> MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IN MAX. mm -i VW:-' ii.nh First of all, when seckiiif^ 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 concep- tual ideation which is already present in every denominative term," Or, yet again, as the same thing was there quoted from Professor Sa)-ce, "it is a truism of psychology that the terms of a proposition, when closely interrogated, turn out to be nothing but abbreviated judgments." * Having thus defined the simi^lest element of thought as a concept, I went on to show from the psychogenesis of children, that before there is any power of foiming concepts — and therefore of bestowing names as denominative teims, or, a fortiori, of combinnig 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 child- hood, prior to the advent of self-consciousness, and prior, therefore, to .lie very condition ivhieli is reqnired for any process of ccnceptiial thonght. 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 api)lications 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 • Jih'rodiictioii, d-(,, i. 15. \mi\ I i iill THE WITNESS OF nilLOLOGY. l^l the greater the definition which they thus acciuire as parts of speech, the more do they severally undergo that process of connotativc extension as to meaning which is everywhere the index of a growing appreciation of analogies. Lastly, object- words and attributi\c-words {J.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 prc-conceptual. With the dawn of self-consciousness, how- ever, predication begins to become truly conceptual ; and thus enters upon its prolonged course of still gradual develop- ment 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 testi- mony, the corroborating force of it appears to mc 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 ind livc of judgment? Or, which is the same thing, will he venii • to deny that there i-- .1 i ,.ll- important distinction between predi ition as receptual and predication as conceptual? Will he stil' seek to like refuge in the only position now remaining, and argue, as above supposed, that not only in the childish appositions of denota- tive 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? Obviousl)', if he will not do this, hi- gument is at an end, seeing that in the race, as in the inci -aial, 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 l|- «■ 324 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. )i ( > \'\ w . 1 1 { . \ih. 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 gcs ure-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 spcakhig 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-sig.is. To-day, for instance, he knocked his head against a tabic, 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 prcdicatorv, seeing that, as before shown at con- siderable 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 Mi; d," but to concede that, as I THE WITXESS OF PHILOLOGY. 325 ll 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 v/e look to the psychogenesis of the individual or to that of the race, we alike find a demonstrable continuity of evolution fiom the lowest to the highest level of the sign-making faculty. Ill }i 1 ■ 1 1 }! ii 1 1 1 ' \2 ) MESIAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. ! I ■ ' t CHAPTER XV. THE WITXKSS OF I'lllLOLOGV {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 pro- position. 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. There- fore, having now disposed of all opposition that can possibly be raised on the ground of formal predication, I will con- clude by throwing the light of philology on the origin of materia' 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 De remembered that, under my analysis of the growth of rredication, 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 undifterentiated " 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 " nascen*- " 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 THE WITXFSR OF rHILOLCCY. 1-7 Jissociation ^\hen under the guidance of tlie " logic of events." But when I came to deal with the philolog-y 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 wcj'^' sentence-words which conibincd in one vague mass the meaiiings afterwards appor- tioned 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. Hut 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 develo])ment 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 develop- ment of speech in the race. To use biological terms, this the earliest phase in the evolution of speech has been greatly fore- shortened 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 ■n 128 ME XT A L EVOLUTION IN MAN. :t Ki \\ ^ irr i I ! ifel 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 Miiller says, that "if an English child says ' Up,' that 7e/> 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 pro- positions, 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 cou se, the same remarks apply to relation- words, such as " Up." Take, for instance, the cases of pre-conccptual 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 i( . I I' ti US' :!l THE WITXESS OF miLOLOGV. 329 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. There- fore, on grounds of psychological anah'sis 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 poeketcd 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 fiom its infancy. Therefore, as just remarked, on grounds of psychological analysis alone, I do not think wc 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 alreadj'-spoken language ; I; 3^^ MKM'AL EVOLUTION IX MAX. and long bcffjic 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 gram- matical 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 posses- sion of some ainount of k-nowlcdge of their distinctive mean- ings as names of objects, qualities, actions, states, or relations. Indeed, it is only as such that the infant has acquired its know- ledge 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 dififercnt 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 w'cre 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 re-acted upon that of gesture-signs — increasing their THE WITNESS OF miLOJ.OGY. -\ -1 1 number, their intricac}-, and their refinement, up to the time when grammatical forms were sufficiently far evolved to admit of the gcsturc-sii^ns 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 pro- genitor. We are now in a position to consider the exact psy- chological relation of sentence-words to denotative and recep- tually 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, conno- tative-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. I^ut 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, there- fore, as recently stated, have only to learn their deno- tative 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, ! ?'P; 3. '^2 MF.XTAl. EVOLUTION IX MAX. w>ww as \vc 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 assigniner such names ; and thus there could have been no parallel to a young child who reccptually 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 ou-, 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 predi- cating 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- \, \ THE WITNESS OF nil LO LOGY. m words over denotative words, or even over rcccptually coiino- tative words of a low order of extension. Nay, we have iQ.(:\\ that the leading principles of granimatical form ada:it of being acquired Ly the child together with his ac([uisition 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, the}- 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 under- stand 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.* * In these considerations I find myself able largely to reconcile what has always been regarded as a contradiction between the views of Professor Whitney ' il 33\- MEXTAL EVOLUTIOX IN MAX. So much, then, for the first class of considerations which has been opened up by throwing upon the results of our psychological anal)sis 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 •'comi)lex 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, there- fore, " reccptual " or " conceptual." According to Professor Max Miiller, "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 oIkjIu, or substance, to the roots, that the first foundation of our language and our thought were laid." * Here, to begin with, there is an inherent contradiction. m m m |if and those of otlier iiliilologi^ts mi (lie suUjcct of sentonce-woids. I'aiil'' followi'.ig Scliloii'licr who iiuniUiiins the dortriiic still more uncJ 'l'hoii;ht. y\'. 43:. 433. TliF. WITXESS OF rHILOLOGY. m tioii. (I- tin- II con- lo the -MKT.lI, tCllCl'S as I nils of riyht. rds as Jill of When it is said that the roots in question already presente.l 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 " foundatioMs," therefore, must have been " laid " somewhere further back in tiic history of mankind. But, besides this inherent coniradiction, we have here an emphatic re-statement of the two radical errors which I previously mentioned, and which everywhere mar the philosophical vali;e of Professor Max Mliller'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 Mincrva-likc, already equipped with the divine inheritance of conceptual wisdom. Now, in entertain- ing this theory. Professor Ma.x Mlillcr 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.* Moreover, as we have likewise seen, his assum[)tion as to the aboriginal nature of Aryan roots, on which his transcendental doctrine rests, is intrinsi- cally absurd, and thus c. s not really require the united voice of professed philologists for its condemnation. Therefore what the science of language do.s prove "by irrefragable evidence" is, )iot 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, bf ng the survivals of incalculably more prinutive 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 sciincc of /(Xiijj^iin^i^i' lin> absolutely uo cvidcmc at all to * I'jv -^'i i82, lliit'j, i P! ml 111'*:; u!" i B'\ . ■} ; : fj i 1: t i 1 1 i 1 1 1 MRXTAL F.VOLUTION IX MAX. furnish as touching the matter which Professor IMax MUllcr 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 i)crhaps in no one single instance the fust aboriginal articulate sound — just as little, of course, the aboriginal signification." * 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 Miiller's philology appears to reside in certain prepossessions which he exhibits in the domain of psychology. ]'or 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. Consequentl)', the distinction which, on grounds of compara- tive psychology, appears to mc 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. Con- sequentl}', also, he has failed to distinguish between ideas as "general" and what 1 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 gcneyalizcd\ because not yet differentiated by any' intentional anal}'sis, and therefore representing simply an absence of conceptual thought. My child on fu'st beginning to speak had a generalized idea of similarity between all kinds of brightly shining object.s, and therefore called them * I'r^f'rutiv; div Sfirachi\ s. 65. For tlie original German, sec the passage as previously (i\ioU'(l on page 27J, note. t As pointed out in a previous rliapter, curious anhiguity attaches to this term. For, ns used in liiology, it means tlie hithirlo iiinii/Tiiriitiaftti, wliile in psychology and elsewhere a " generaii/.ition '' means tiie syntlh-lically iutegiwtcd. Hut, as psychologists never speak of ideas as "generalized," I here use the word in its liiological schh'. See also above, pp. 277-280. THE WITNESS OF rillLOLOGY. 3,v \w mning s;ige ns s to this while in wurd in 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 sensu- ous 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 thro\vn upon it by the philological doctrine of "sentence-words," which Professor Max Miiller, in common with other philologists, fully accepts. Of all the writers on primitive modes of speech as repre- sented by existing savages, no one is entitled to speak with so much authority as l^lcek. Now, as a result of his pro- longed 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 hail 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 con.sciousness of the speaker." Tliat 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 />V? = sheep, bleating, grazing, &c. Now, this process of com- prising 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 opjiosile of the process whereby a denominative term is brought to unify, by an act of "generali/.atic^n," the previously well-differentiated concepts between which some analogy is afterwards discovered. 338 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. n Hi m i \, Therefore the absence of any parts of speech in primitive languat^e 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 undifferen- tiated condition of South African languages, "this diff'ers 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, arc 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 an)thing 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." * 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 tiunight, on the ground that they present the highest degree of "generality" which it is pos- sible 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 contra- diction arises from a confusion between ideas as generic and general, or between the extension which is due to original vagueness ami that which is laboriously acquired by subse- quent precision. An Ama:ba is morphologically more "gene- ralized" than a Vertebrate; but for this very reason it is the less highly evolved as an organism. The philology of * L'is/'ning Jcr Sfrnc/i,-, s. 6(j, 70. THE U'lTXFSS OF PHILOLOGY. .^39 they is pos- to be round nan, or )rcssive inthcr ic less contra- ric and iDnginal subsc- " genc- on it is ogy of sentence-words, therefore, leads us back to a state of ideation wherein as yet the powers of conceptual thout:jht 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 sta;.n; 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 onomatopoeia,* 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 percep- tions of aboriginal man. I must now allude to the results of our previous inqm'ry touching " the syntax of gesture-language." For com- parison 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." f Thus, as we saw, "gesture-language has no grammar pro- perly so called. The same sign stands for ' walk,' ' walkest,' 'walking,' 'walked,' 'walker.' Adjectives and verbs arc not easily distinguished by the deaf and dumb. Indeed, our elaborate system of parts of speech is but little applic- • Hlcek entertains no doubt on this jioint. t Comjmre also close of Chapter VII. (pp. 138-144), where the children mentioned by Dr. Hale are shown lo have adopted the syntax of Resturedanguane in their sp< ntaneously devised spoken language. % il: m 340 MENTAL EVOLUTION' LV MAN. II I 31 able to the gcstui'c-laii^ua(^e." Next, to quote ai:jain only one of the niiincr()us examples previously given to show the primitive order of apposition, whereby the languafje 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-inutc ; to show that the tailor m J:cs 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." IClsewhcre 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 iMiglish. "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, featlier-gra.'is, cl/esiiid-liorse, &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 .synta.x is the syntax of gesture. I will ask the reader to refer to the whole passage in which I previousl}- treated of the syntax of gesture,* 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 * Chapter VI,, pp. ii4-i20. THE WITXESS OF PHILOLOGY. 341 arly U>nc, of as is Init •icty In be I tax c in ving the iicnt rave me an apple ") ; resemblance of sentences to the polysyn- thetic or unanalyzing type (as " I-Tum-struck-a-stick " = " Tom struck me with a stick ") ; the device whereby syntax, or order of apposition, is made to distinguish between pre- dicative, 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 hi^^hly 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 impor- tant 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 sup[)ose, 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 hiijily 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 supi)lied 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 nearl)- resembles the syntax of gesture-language, that we can at once perceive their 342 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. \'\ ;■ "': >i 1:1. ii •' ' 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 exist- ing 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 onomatopoeia 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."* fe \ All the foregoing and general conclusions thus reached, * Sij;ii-Liiii^iiai;c, o-'i ., p. 284. On page 352, tliis writer further supplies a. most interesting conip.nrison between gesture and spoken language as both are used by the Nurth American Indians — showing that the syntax in the two cases is identical. TfrE WITNESS OF PHILOI.OGY. 343 touching the genesis of conceptual from prc-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 arc directly significable, and because it was only they that untrained human beings had the power to deal with or the occasion to use." * In other words, if, as we suppose, language had its origin in merely denotative sign-making, which gradually became more and more connotativc and thus gradually more and more jircdicative ; 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 e.xpect 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 : !'« * Whilncy, Einji/o. Juit., loc. cil., j). 770. Ii is intcrcstiiif; to note that the psychological importance of this principle was clearly enuncialeil by Locke : — " It may leail us a little towards the orii^inal of all our notions and knowledj^e, if we remark how great a dependence "ur words have on conmion sensiiiie ideas ; and how those wiiich are made use of to stand for actions and notions quite removed from sense, have their rise from ihence, anf civil- ized man. the connection between the iilea and the word is only lesscbvioiis than that still unbroken eunneclion between the iilea and the sign, aiul they remain strongly affected by the concepts of outline, form, place, position, and feature on which Jig THE U'lTXF.SS OF rinLOLOGY. 34^ inquiry to be considered, and its consideration will tend }-ot further and most forcibly to corroborate all the i^cneral con- clusi ns already attained. Hitherto we have been enj^aj^'cd for the most part on what I have already called the p.alieonto- lo;^y of human thouijht as revealed, fossiMike, in the linj^uistic petrifactions of pre-historic man. Miit tlic science of com- parative philolo;^y is not conhned in its researches upon earl)' forms of speech to the byj^one remnants of a distant a^jje. On the contrary, just like the science of comparative anatirny, it is furnished with stiU existing materials for study, whici- are of the nature of living organisms, and which [)re.sent so r.iany trradcs of cvolutif n that the lowest mend)ers of the series bring us within easy distance of those aborit^inal forms whicI' can onl)' be studie 1 in the fossil st.ite. Ililherto I h.i\e considered these lowest e.\istin_L( lanj.;ua|.;es onl)' with refer- ence to their forms of predication, ilere I desire to consider them with reference to the cjuality of ideation that they betoken. In the next instalment of ni\- woik I shall have to treat of the psychology of savages, and thei? it will become .ipparent that there is no ver)' precise relation to be constantly traced between grades of mental evolution in general, and of language-development in particular. Nevertlu-less there is a general relation: ;'.nd therefore it is among the lowest savages th.it we meet with the Imvest t)pes of language-structure.* ^oluic is fiiuiiiloil, wliilc llity arc Niinil.ir in llioir (ciiili- (iviiihiii.itidii of miliinls. Iniliaii l:in(.;iiaj;c cimsisis of a scries of winis that :iii' luil slJMliily (iillciciili .(cil ji.nrls (if >i)i'ccli fiilliiwiii^; i';i''li oilu'r in the orilcr Mij^i^cstnl in ihc ii>':'..I A the s|)cakcr witliuiil al^oline laws of nnaiinenu'iit, as its st'iitcnicN :in' .int coinplclely inli'(;raliil. The sentence necessitates pans of speech, ami pai^ of speech are possilile only when a lanj;najje has reacheil that stn^e where sen'eiices aii' I'l^jically const rue tei I. 'I'lu wotcU nt an in^lian liinj^iu', iuin^; ^)iiiluiic or inniilfirrnlialcd parts of siiecrh, are in tin-, respect strictly analogous to the fjcsUire elenunlR which enter inlu a >i);ii-l;\n};iiam . '!"he s|ii(|y of tiie lattiT is therefore val\ial)Ie fur coinp.ui.son wilii ihe \\oiil^ ol the lurnier. 'I'hi' one lan^;ii ij^v ilnnws nnicii li^lii upon tiie other, ami miiher < .ni !).■ stmlicil in ihe hesi ailvantaj;e wiihoni .i knowieiine of the otlier." * Tlure are certain wiiteiN, -.ucli iis I >u Ponceau, Charlevoix, James, Apph- yar of eveji til" lowest savanes are "hi^;hly system. iiii- and truly philoMiphical," X:c. TT- 350 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. ¥\^ In the present connection I shall have to treat of these lan- Pfiia^cs only in so far as they throw li^ht 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 retiuires but the feeblest jxjwer of abstraction — a power even possessed by idiots — to use a name as the sign of a conception, e.g. to say 'sun';* — 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 m.i)- be to us, there is ample proof that the}- could not iiave been so to the inventors of language, because the)- arc not so, even now, to some nations of mankind .•"Iter all their long millenniums of existence. Instances of this fact have been repeatedly adduced." f Ihu-- for example, the Society Islanilers have separate words for ^i H lint lliis opiiiinn rt'Nts on a radically fal-e csiimalc of the nitoria of system and pliii<)s()|ii)) ill a ian^iiiii^c. For the criieria dmsi'n arc ixuhoraiice nf syiidiiyms, intricacies or complications of forms, dec., which arc really works of a Iwv develop- ment. The fallrcy is tiow ;icUno\\li'df;ed to be siirli liy all jihilolojfists. I^vcn Karrar, who at lirsi himself fell into this error KOni:;in of l.aiii^UiV^,-, p. 28), in his suhseipient work writes : — " Further exan'ination has entirely removed this helief. l-'or this apparent wealth of synonyms and ^grammatical forms is chiefly due to the hopi-Uss pt^itily of llh- poitvr oj uhliiiclioH. It would not only be no advantage, hut even an impossible encumbrance to a lanj^uage rei|uired for literary purposes. The transnormal character of these tongues only proves iliat they ari ihe work of minils 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 savngf con- dition" (Knrrnr, Cha{. t Latham, Races 0/ .Mufi, p. J76. X Qiiatrcfages, A'lT'. i/.M- /'<■//< .Vi'iniri, Dec. 15, i860; Maury, La Teiie et r Homme, ji. 433. § Mem. sur le Sysl. Gram., &-e., p. 120. II Malay Grammar, i., p. 6S, et seij. ^ Journl. .tmeri. Orient, .Soe., i. No. 4. p. 4i'2. ** Ca^^alis, (irammar, p. 7. m ] i ihi 3; Mr.xr.ir. f.voi.itio.x ix max. kinds of washing, without any to indicate "washing" itself;* and Milligan sa\'s 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 ecjuivalcnt for the expression of 'a tree;' nei her could they express abstract (jualities, such as hard, soft, warm, cold, long, short, round."! Lastly, to give only one ether example, Dr. Latham states that a Kurd of the Ziza 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 combineil the pronoun with the substantive whenever he had a part of the human body or a degree of consanguinity to name," saying scrc-miii, " my head," and pic-miii, " my father." Thus, as Professor Saj'ce 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 re[)rcsent, but those individual objects of which his senses were cogni/.ant."| And, without further multi- phing 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 indivi(lual who has been unaffecteil by the civilization around liim, we (Ind this primitive inal)ilit)' to separate the particular from the uni\ersal by isohiling the individual word, and extracting it, as it were, from the ideas habitually associated with it.' § Or, in my own phraseology, among all primitive races still existing, we meet with what must seem to m)' opponents a wholly unintelligible incapacity to evolve a conce[)t from any number of rece[)ts, notwith- * riikciiiij;, Indian /.ant;n(ii;,s, p. 26. t / W(i/>itAtr\'i>/' f/w Diali'ctsof some oj Ihc Al'orit^iniil TrUvs af Tasmania •"' ': ,. X IntfOiluction, c-i,, vol. ii., p. 6. § //'/■/., vol. i., p. 379. ^ i \\ THE WITXESS OF PHILOLOGY. 353 in^ to ■as not b man which iiuilti- lCCC[)t wo I 111, )i- an zalioii );irate \ idiial liially iiniMi^ must ipacity nwilh- ^j '^ standinf,^ that the hitter may all be most nearl)- related together, and severally named by as many denotative signs : even with their numberless already-formed words for different kiinls 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 sur[)riseil a Tasmanian could he have seen a tree fevcn 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 automaticall)- formed by numberless percep- tions of individual men walking on their feet. Hut, 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 acknowlcilge that iii the absence of any name for tree there can be no conception of tree. So much, then, for what Arcluleacon I'arrar lias called " t/ic hope/ess poverty of the poiver of abstraction " in sa\'ages. Their various languages imite, in verbal testimony, to assure us that human thought does //^'/"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 con- ceiitual — denotation the antecedent of denomination, as in still earlier stages it was itself preceileii by gcsiiculation. Such being the case with regard to names, it is no unndcr, as we previously found, that low savages are so extraordinarily deficient in their forms of predication, The paki'ontology of human thought, then, as recorded in language, incontcstibly proves that the origin and progress 2 .\ I, .Vyl MhNTAL EVOI.UriOX IN MAN. m of ideation in t!jc race was psychologically identical witli what wc now observe in the individual. All the stages ot ideation which we have seen to be characteristic of psycho- genesis in a child, arc 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 witii Gcigcr — " Hut, what says more than anything, language diminishes the further we look back, in such a way that wc cannot forbear concluding it must once have had no existence at all." * 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 tiie kind of ideational sap which flows therefrom ? It is, as we have already seen, so stronglj' suggestive of gesture and grimace that even I'rofcssor Max Miiller 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." f Secondly, we have clear evidence of sentence-words, as well as of what I have called the denotative pha.se, or the naming of simple recepts — whet'^cr onl}- of actions, or, as wc may safely assume, likewise also of objects and qualities ; and whether arbitrarily, or, as .seems virtually certain, in cliicf part by onomatopcjL'ia, Hoth 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 onomatoptjcia — 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 • A Lecture delivtnil at Frankfort, 1869. t Science of Thought, p. 245. » I: If- fr^g^immr." -trvm ^ ^ witli jcs of ^ycho- bccn vcd in agree iguage liat we istcncc tree of oots of \ flows trongly ar Max earliest mguage ly /oj;^o.\\ jrds, as or the r. as we ics ; aiul liicf part .vevcr — truggle ible to •able to y little is most |ly, that t order for the :et with 77//-: IV/T.VESS OF PHll.OI.OCV. ^ ."» 1 ' >vervvhclming evidence of the connotative extension of these tlenotativc terms. Indeed, many of these terms have pn^bably undergone a certain amount of connotative extension as the condition to their having survived as roots ; and, therefore, in these lowest deposits it is difTicult to be svire that an apparently denotative term is not really a term which has undcrgf)nc the eisrlicr stages of connotative extension. If such were the case, wc can understand the loss of any onomatopoetic significance which it may originally have i)rcscnted. 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 philolog}' 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-conccptual predication is contemporary with — or occupies the same psychological level as — the conno- tative extension of denotative terms. Indeed, the very act of connotation is in itself an act of predication — if in the conceptual sphere, of concc[)tual predication (denomination) ; if in the pre-conccptual, of pre-conccptual. Again, in the psychogenesis of the child we noted liow important a part is played in the development of pre-conceptual [)rcdication by thv mere apposition of connotative terms — such ai)position being rendered inevitable by the laws of association. If y\ is the connotative name for A, B the connotative name for />', when the young child sees that A and B occur together, the statement A H is rendered inevitable hy " 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 "e\'ery 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 \vlu)le question on which we ! i I ill 35^> MI'.XTM. EVOIA'TIOX IX MAX. arc cngai^cJ, and moreover, to beg it in the teeth of every antecedent probability, as well as of every actual analogy, to which ai)[)eal 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 conclutling 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-consci(nisness ? 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 sup- plied the basis of conceptual predication. No wonder, there- fore, as I'rofessor IVIax Miiller 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 jirimitive act than to fix an attribute by a name " conceptu- ally ap[)licd. So primitiv.e, indeed, is nomination of this kind, that I defy any one to show wherein it differs psycho- logically 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 oj)inions 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 qnd fiou, to any and every act of bestowing a name ; and, a fortiori, to any and every act of predication. This is the fundamental THE WITXESS OF PIIILOI.OCY. .O/ /!i* as the udc by irs to olo^^ist of my on the it, that nd non, tiori, to mental assumption, which, whether openly expressed or covertlj- implied, serves r.s 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 con- ceptual thought on the part of the nanicr. Alike from the case of the talking bird, of the young child, and of early man (so far as he has left anj- traces of his psj-chology in the structure of language), I have demonstrated that prior to the stage of denomination there are the stages of indication, denotation, and reccptual connotation. These are the psycho- logical stepping-stones across that " Rubicon of Mind," which, owing to their neglect, has seemed to be impassable. The Concept (and, n fortiori, the I'roposition) is not a structure of ideation which is presented to us without a developmental histor)'. Although it has been uniformi}' assumed by all m)- opponents " that the simplest element of thought " can have had no such historj', 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. lUit, as we have now so full}* 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 an}- other product, whether of life or of mind. Here, then, I bring to a close this brief and imperfect rendering of the "Witness of lMiili)log)-," But, brief and imperfect as the rendering is, I am honestl\- 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 t'^ bcv In almost every ! I; ' i: !'!« n. PW \\f T i ■.i\ 35S MENTM. JirO/.C770.V IX MA.V. single respect it has corroborated the results of our psycho- logical 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 b\' means of gesticulation and grimace. It has described to us the first articulate sounds in the form of sentence- words, with- out 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 originall)- 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 un- developed form of self-consciousness — primitive man, like a young child, having therefore spoken of his own per- sonality 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 Garnctt say.s, " nihi in orat'unie quod non pniis in scnsu may now be regarded as an incontrovertible a.xiom." * . 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 I-'arrar says, " to the flippant and the ignorant, how ridiculous is the apparent inadequacy of the origin to produce such a result." f 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 thatwc 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 * Essays, p. 89. t Chapters on Language, p. IJ3. TJIE WITS ESS OF IHILOLGGY. 359 auch keinc Sprache cin abstractum, /u dcm sic nicht cliirch Ton und Gcfiihl gclan^^t ware." * To my mind it is simply incon- ceivable that any stronj^'cr 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 [)attern 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. Jt is to Language that my opponents hav(> appealed : by Language they are hopelessly condemned. • llordcr, Abhaiuil.^ s. 122. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) h /. ^^..4Le A K ^ 7a 1.0 I.I 1^ |2.8 IM IL25 i 1.4 2.2 2.0 1.8 1.6 P^ -''r PhotDgraphic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STRUT WEBSTER, NY. MSSO (716) 873-4303 f\ "^ ;-0" « .^ ^^ .<;^1%* l<^l^^ 's^° '"^ ^ Q^ ^ T ?6o MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. % '^\ 1 pi 1 1 PJ i l- \^ % :lli! i. I't'1 L r 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 rr\et 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 preci.se conditions 1 THE TR AN"; IT ION IN THE RACE. 361 might it is 3cyond us, to of an 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 : — " Dcr Process dcr eigen- thUmlich mcnschlichen Laut-Erzeugung, die Articulation der Tone, die Hervorbringung von Vocalen und Consonanten, ist demnach auf rein physiologischem Boden gcgcbcn — in dcr urprlinglichcn Natur des mcnschlichen physischen bewcgtcn Organismus begrundet, und wird vor aller Willkiir und Absicht also ohne Einwirkung des Geistes obwohl auf Veranlassu ig von Gcfuhlen und Empfindungen vollzogen." * This, it will be observed, is the largest possible extension of the interjcctional theory of the origin of speech. It assumes that not only inarticulate, but also articulate sounds were given forth by the "sprachlosen Urmenschcn," in the way of instinctive cries, wholly destitute of any semiotic intention. By repeated association, however, they arc supposed to have acquired, as it were automatically, a semiotic value. For, * Das Leben der Seek, ii. 47. 36- MliXlAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. wv '% I 1 1 hf to quote Professor Fricdrich MuUer, " Sie sind zwar An- fangs bedeutungslos : sie konnen abcr bcdeutungsvoll werden. Alles, was in unscrem Inncren vorgeht, vvird von der Seelc wahrgenommcn. Sobald durch gevvisse aiisscre Einflussc in Folge einer Combination mehrerer Empfindungen cine Anschauung entstcht, nimnit die Seele dieselbe an, Dicsc Anschauung hat — in Folge der durch eine der Empfindungen hcrvorgebrachten Rcflexbewcgung in den Stimmorganen — einen Laut zum Regleiter, wclchcr in gleichcr Weise wio die Anschauung von der Seele wahrgenomnien wird, dicsc beiden Wahrnchmungen, nii.nlich jene der Anschauung und jcne des Lautes, vcrbinden sich mitcinander vcrmoge ihrer Clcichzeitigkeit im menschlichen Bcwusstsein, es findet also eine Association der Laut-Anschauung mit jener der Sach- Anschauung statt, die Elemente der Sach-Anschauung be- kommen an der Laute-Anschauung einen fcsten Mittel- punkt, durch den die Anschauung zur Vorstellung sich entwickelt. Wir sind damit bei der menschlichen Sprachc angclangt, wclche also ihreni Wesen nach auf der Snb- stituirung eines Klang-odcr TonhWdQs fUr das Bild einer Anschauung bcruht." * 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 tlic matter, I must nevertheless refuse to accept the above hypothesis as anything like a full explanation of the origin of speech. F^or 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 physio- logical basis " of reflex movement), the question obviously iitiniJriiS (itr Sprachwissenuhaft , i, 35, 36. THE TRANSITION IN THE RACE. 363 « 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.* 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 mean- i.j^less 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 intcrjcctional 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 aborigi: al 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 zcichcnlosen. 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 arc 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 interjcctionai t.ieory * See, for example, F. Miiller, Ic. lit., i. 36, 37, ■?■• i\m I (■■•Jl v/ liliii 5^4 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX. 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.* 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 1 bestowed upon a cebus. Yet this, no doubt, is an important point, because we know that of all quadramana — and, there- fore, 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. ]^ut 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 extincti<:)n. Moreover, it is certain that none of these existing :;pecies 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 * Some of the supporters of the interjectional theory in this extreme, not to say extravagant form, ajipoar to go on tlie assumjUion that primitive and hitherto speechless man already (liU'ereil 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 oriler to add that the objection would not apply if the ideation were supposed to be fre-conceftnal—i.e. beyond the level reached by any bnite, though not yet distinctively human. Later on, I myself espouse a theory to this effect. f \ THE TRAXSinoy LV 7 HE RACE. 365 nol to hitherto iceptual egan to from a of the bjection beyond Iter on, 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 * 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 varia- bility of both these habits among certain allied genr ''a 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.! * E.g. by Mr. Ward, in his Dynamical .Sociology. t Differences of opinion are entertained by philoloj^isls concerning the value km Ifii-:!,- I';|t;!i i 366 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. There is another preliminary consideration which I think is well worth mentioning. The philologist Gcigcr 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 efifec- tively 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— z>. 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 de- velopment 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 significr.tions. 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 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. THE TRAySlTION IX THE RACE. 3'7 made so prodigious an advance in the faculty of sign- making. In thi-^ greater reliance on the sense of sight, therefore, we probably have another among the many and complex conditions which determined the diiference 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, unhcartl 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," sdiuppattcr for "two," rieckc 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 "drink- ing").* 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-yei; which the mute afterwards uses as his name for a dog.f 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 transi- * For cases, see Heinieke, Beobachtungen Uher Stumnte, s. 137, &c. t Ibid., s. 73- r .u ' n w I— 'w v- 368 MENTAL EVOLUTION /N MAN. \'.s ■ tion. 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 saga- cious than the orang-outang mentioned in my previous work,* or the remarkable chimpanzee now in the Zoo- logical 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 statc.f 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 reccpts, to an association with gesture-signs, so as to constitute sen- tence-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 * Mental Evolution in Animals, p. 238. t The carnivoruus 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 Clarduns it is found to show a marked preference for cooked meat over raw. It dines oiT boiled mutton-chops, the bones of which it picks with its fingers and teeth, being afterwards careful to <;lean its hands. It mixes a little straw with the mutton as vegetables, and finishes its dinner with a dessert of fruits. Hut 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. rilE TRANSITION LV THE RACK. 3^9 signs )irds), ies) are Is ; but cooked ks with a little f fruits, [tones — by the |of time nder it ard to aiuling 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 assi l^od 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.* 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 modifica- tion 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),t 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." $ * "If there once existed creatures above the apes and lielow man, who were extirpated bj primitive man as his especial rivals in the struggle for existence, or became extinct in any other way, there is no difficulty in supjiosing them to ha-e possessed forms of speech, more rudimentary and imperfect than ours" (Professor Whitney, Art. Philology, Emy. Brit., vol. xviii., p. 769). t Houzeau gives a very curious account of his observations on this subject in his FacidU's Mcntales dcs Animaux, tom. ii., p. 348. X Descent of Man. ;. 87. 2 15 I 370 MEXTAI. EVOUTIOX IX MAX. But Mr. Darwin adds another feature to the hypothesis now under consideration, as follows : — "When we treat of sexual selection we shall see that primaeval man, or rather some early progenitor of man, probably first used his voice in producing true musical cadences, that ',s 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 huve served as a challenge to rivals. It is, there- fore, probable that the imitation of musical cries by articulate sounds may have given rise to words expressive of various complex emotional states." * im'' II 11 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.\ Now, if this were the case, the * Descent of Man, p. 87. t This term is used by Haeckel as synonymous with Pithccmitluopoi, 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 THE J'RAXSITIO.V IX THE RACE. .">/ pothcsis ;cc that of man, musical bon-apcs a wiJcly ispccially lid have iumph, — is, thcre- articulatc Df various me quite :ing might of speech. se another It, and one opinion of probably , ipcarance ; ipear were serving of case, the |///^<7/£)?, or the Homo sapiens It instalment of ] the side of my as previously lulty of speech, lute as to be largument, that le and an ape's, li their brains, Ich one should a watch that kerefore a great 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 rccepts by means of gesture-signs, facial expressions, and vocal tones. Clearly, from such an origin, the subsecjuent 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 com- munity of Homo ala/iis, considerably more intelligent than the existing anthropoid apes, ..though 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.* As their numbers increased (and, consequently, as natural selec- tion laid a greater and greater premium on intelligent co-ope- ration, as in the case of social insects),! such signs wouUi require to become more and more conventional, or acquire more and more the character of sentence-words and deno- tative signs.l Now, where the signs were vocal, the only structural liiatus between the two watclics. A liair in the baiancc-whec], a Utile rust on a pinion, a bend in a tooth of the escapement, a something so slighi that only the practised eye of the watchmaker can discover it, may be the source of all the I'ifTerence. And belicvintj, as I do, with Cuvier, that the possession of articu.ate speech is the grand distinctive cliaracter of man (whether it be absolutely peculiar to him or not), I fnul it very easy to comprehend, that some e(|ually inconspicuous structural difference may have been the primary cause of the immeasurable and practically infinite divergence of Uie human from the simian stirps" (Huxley, .l^in/'s Place in Xatiire, p. 103). • 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 iviovemcnts 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. t For sign-making among the social insects, see above, pp. 88-95. + Here, be it observed, the element of truth which belongs to the first of the tliree hypotheses that we are considering comes in. Compare fool-note on page !|>! n t / ^72 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX LV MAX. ways in which they could be developed so as to meet this need would be, (i) convctitional modulations of intensity, (2) of pitch, and (3) of time-intervals. But clearly, neither modulations of intensity nor of pitch could carry improve- ment very far, seeing that the human voice does not admit of any great range of either. Consequently, if an^- improve- ment 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 articula- tion must have been more largely intellectual, or loss 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 arc 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 Unguals by an almost speechless Homo.* From this point onwards, the further ,^64 : Homo altiliis, thouj^li 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 intcrjectional or other sounds which emanate from the " purely physiological grounds" of his own organization. * See Preyer, loc. cit., for a detailed account of the order in which the con- sonants are developed in the growing child. Also I'rofessor Iloklen, on the THE TRANSITIOX IX TlfE RACE. 373 inccl this intensity, y, neither improvc- : admit of improvc- nd to be 3nly be so :cen vocal lis is the insisted in tones, in a i so-called ;e for the difference it articula- ess purely re of cries, jable that, nd larynx, lips, these restricted ttural and avc lasted iquid, and icgun to be xpect the 11 that the d of more an almost \c further evcitheless in y a brute, and r other sounds 1 organization, i'hich the con- oldcn, on the 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 Af-ican Ikishmen 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.* No one has studied the languages of these peoples with so much labour or so much result as the philo- sophically minded Dr. Blcek, 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." The clicks in question are four in number, or, according to Blcek, "at least si.v." Thcj^ arc called the dental, palatal, cerebral, and lateral. The lateral click is the same as that which is cinployed 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 I'ihahiihxrifs of Children, i" Efoc A)iicv. /Vii/i>/iK Ass., 1877. There c.tii he no (hiiibt th;il vowel sounds must have been of eaily orij^in in llie raee ; but in what order the consonants may have followed is nuu h nuue doiiblful. I'or difTerent races now exhibit ^fcat dilTerences with regard to the use — and even to the capability of using — consonantal sounds; the Chinese, for instance, changing r into /, while the Japanese change / into r. And, of course, the whole science of com- parative philology may be said to be based upon a study of the laws of " phonetic change." Hut it is obviously a matter of no imjiortance in what particular order the difTerent articulate sounds were first evolved. .According to Prince Lucien Honaparte, who has investigated the matter with mucli care, the total numl)er of tliese sounds that can be possiblv riade by the human organs of vocalization is 3S5. See, also, l'",llis, on E'.arly Eiig.. i Proniiuciation ; and, for the limitation of con- sonants in various languages of existing races, Ilovelaciuc, Sciiiicf of /.angua^e, Knglish trans,, pp. 49, 61, 81. * "When we remember the inarticulate clicks whicli s''ll form part f)f the Irishman's language, it would seem as if no line of division could be drawn Ijetween man and beast, even wheti language is made the test " (Sayce, Introduction, &-c., ii., p. 302). t Ur sprung der Sprnche, s. 52. I III 374 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. books it is usually wriften " 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 || X7^^?/, 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 Ilacckel 'o 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." * In its main outlines the hypothetical sketch which I have given follows that which Mr. Darwin has drawn in his Descent * Introduction, &'c., ii., 302 : by " ihouglit " of course he means what I mean by rocepts. 1 1 f 1 ii| 1 i 1 m^^m ; to show into any armed by ;h. Some gc of this ' trying to European ; word for teral click, jn-making, jes of low , it seems which was Jleek, and ed:— ;ivcd from ere are no cm. They ' 'clicks,' heard in nt species, th the lips, 3Ut I have y probable developed mankind ; al point of low us how to embody hich I have his Descent IS wliat I mean THE TRAySlTIOX IX THE RACE. .V D 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 pro- genitors 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 develop- ment of sign-making in that "ape-like animal" which was the brutal progenitor of Homo alalus* 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 .ilso much more social. And this is an important point ♦^o 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 a[)es. 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 sa)-, while Mr. Darwin's hypothesis regards the commencement of articu- lation 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 * 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 hy the present one. JUKI mmmmmir 376 MENTAL EVOLUTION L\' MAN. l^i 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 r^eans 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 rcceptual 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 psv-chogenesis 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 phylo- genesis, 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 rcceptual ideas m 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 i' might be scarcely justifiable to take these cases as possibly representative of the semiotic language of Homo alalns (seeing that the child of to-day inherits the cerebrum of Homo sapiens) ; still I think it is no less certain that we re rather ertheless, 3y rreans probable reason to ntclligent Id admit g species ig all the with its Next, for articulate idvantage systems, reference tone and pment to ; growing there can ite origin general of phylo- istanding ts being not begin able to e of tone eady laid lich this who are though i' possibly HO alalus brum of that we 1 THE TKAA'SITIO.V IN THE RACE. Z77 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 scmiotic use of tone and gesture. For even a precocious child docs 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 con- spicuous 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 dis- posed 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 int^ 'I'gent and social species of anthropoid ape as pictured by Darwin, we can imagine that this animal wa? accustomed to use its voice freely for the expression of its emotions, uttering of danger-signals, and singing.* Possibly enough, also, it may have been sufficiently intelligent to use a few imitative sounds in the arbitrary way * The song of the gibbon lias already been alluiloil to in a quotation from Darwin. 1 may here add that the chimpanzee " Sally " not unfreqiientlv execules an extraordinary performance of an analogous kind. The song, however, is by no means so " musical," It is sung without any reg.ard to notation, in a series o! rapidly succeeding howls and screams — very loud, and accom[)anied by a drumming of the legs u])on 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. 37« MENTAL EVOLUTION AV MAN. \\ I I m that Mr. Darwin suggests ; and certainly sooner or later the receptual Hfe 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.* 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 con- sonants — should have been brought into use. But, be this as it may, eventually the action and re-action of receptual intelli- gence 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 ♦ Compare quotations from the German philologists in support of the first hypothesis, pp. 361, 362. *i^ THE TRANSITION IN THE RACE. 379 r later the vaticed far " an infant lis animal, signs, must of natural d gesture, e), to have ideas, such perhaps, in I think it nee which jn-making, :nt of the e another, gradually n children owever, or must have e\v of the nt of the ), but also nt enough •poses, and nventional that some f the con- be this as ual intcUi- ided in so 2 breaking ircction in aking was *tant stage ed by the 1 of the first already-existing habit of articulating musical notes, sup- posing 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 cornmunication : the half-human creature now before our imagination would probably have struck us as a wonderful adept at making significant sounds and move- ments 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 super- seded 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 alaliis. 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 inconcei/able lapse of time must have been required for such progress to have eventually transformed Homo alaliis into Homo sapiens. It is now time to consider a branch of this hypothesis which has been suggested by the philologist Professor Noire, to which allusion has already been made in an earlier chapter.* Before Mr. Darwin had published his views, Professor Noire 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 J/an.f The only difterence between * See pp. 288-290. t IVfU als EntwkkeluHi; dcr Gcists, s. 255. This book, however, was not published until 1874— /.c, some years after the Descent of Man. -HO 3«o MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. II P \ ir the two was that, while Darwin referred the origin of articu- late speech from instinctive cries, &c,, to the anthropoid apes, Noird referred it to a being already human. In other words, Noire adopted what I have here called the third hypo- thesis, which assumes a speechless form of- man as anterior to the existing form.* But, as a result of further deliberation. Noire 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 ono- matopoeia 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 onomatopoeia supplied by Nature, and that these other sources are so apparent in all existing languages, while the one suggested by Noire 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.! Therefore, with respect to this hypo- thesis I have only three remarks to make: (i) that it is * This is likewise the view that was ably supported by Gcigcr on philological grouncls, Ursprung dcr Sprachc, 1S69 ; and by Ilaeckel on grounds of general reasoning. History of Creation, Knglish trans., 1876. t " How many of the roots of language were formed in this way it is impossible to say ; but when wc 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. no). THE TRAXSITION IX THE RACE. 381 if articu- thropoid In other ird hypo- iterior to ibcration, fear and priate to spcech- ingly, he ought in ^pothesis ire made :upations. Yo-he-ho : there is likewise ily source h of ono- words — e now no so many and that mguages, 3rd of its onclude, : can be boriginal lis hypo- hat it is pliilological 5 of general s impossible e can derive om when he numerous " 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 Noire and its advocate Max Miiller, 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 pctctio priitcipii: Homo alahis, 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 con- ceded 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 ti:ey who arc 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 improve- ment.* The hypothesis that such a considerable advcx;:'-'? * 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— frecjuently do so when progressing on level surfaces. i ) I I il •' 382 MENTAL El'OLUTIOX IN MAN. might have gradually taken place, up to the psychological level supposed, may or may not be true ; but, at least, it docs not beg the question. The question is whether the distinc- tively human faculty of conceptual ideation differs in kind or in degree from the lower faculty of rcceptual 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.* 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 rcceptual ideation do admit of being wrought up to an as- tonishing 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 In the case of tlie gorilla, indeed, although the fore-limljs quit the ground and the locomotion thus hecomes 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 of!" .S. Burmah : — "The rocks at low-water are covered with oysters. The monkeys select stones of the best shape for their purjjose 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 ba';^ ot the apper one, and to break the shell over the attaching muscle" {Nature, \o\. xxxvi., p. 53. In connection with this subject see also Animal Inte'ligence, p. 48 0> * See above, p. 220. THE TRANSITION IN THE RACE. ;>^i lological t, it does distinc- in kind dcation ; ; than a evelopcd hcs in a )pponcnt ppcaring question —at the 3 that of :hc lower im (or, as ospectivc d it is a Now, I animals :ultics of :o an as- ossibility inctively grounds unci and tliu up ; but in e when the iVitli regard nter, R.N., Burniah : — elect stones irry them to eighty yards rock-oyster, one, and to r- 53- 111 of psychology alone, that the developmental history of intel- ligence 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 floiiio alaliis. And, as wc 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 alterna- tive, 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 super- abundantly 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 appre- hension. 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 articu- late expression to their receptual apprehensions) ; in the child of two years it is higher still. But, as before shown, no anta- '■fi 384 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. gonist 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-conscious- ness ; and this is demonstrably absent in the child until long after the time when denotative names are connotatively extended by the rcceptual 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 concep- tual. 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 psycholo- gical 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 connota- tion amounts to what .1 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 ;eceptual intelligence is virtually judging a resemblance, ana 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 :he 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 TRANSITIO}T LV THE RACE. 385 11 i there is that are ;hological cognition, :onscious- until long notatively itself, that it is ve had an still simian onnotation, icr conccp- and gesture :hologically would have ,er receptual ;ry was able lis psycholo- ibility of the cnt evidence ian ancestry, [ual connota- .1 judgment, not indeed the mere act .-eceptual .na virtually ii-obable that were those ■ds. And, as .bundant and his form of lortant place as to leave lucture of all 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. liut long before grammatical forms of any sort began to be evolved, a kind of uncertain differentiation must have taken place in this pro- toplasmic 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.* 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 ; f 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 See pp. 220-222. t See pp. 179-181. 2 C \\r m.! I I T'.i Rill, ■s; J I p 3.S6 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. adjective, and the verb. Not till long subsequent ages, however, would this division have taken place in its fulness. During the time which we arc 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 arc all well acquainted in nursery language, and which still survive, in a remarkably large measure, among many dialects of a low order of develop- ment. 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 attain- ment or, in other words, that the faculty of sign-making, when once happily started, should have been successively pushed onwards through ascending grades of efiiciency, so that it should soon become as unique in the mammalian series as, for analogou-. 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 ^'ought into ai)position with the denotative name of a quality cr an action, THE TRANSITION IN THE RACE. 387 ges, however, less. During e could have ivc case and any verbs as dready some sd as names itic.-,, and yet ns. Not yet itcd parts of , would have acquainted in a remarkably ler of develop- \es became at lie community, alities, actions, n often used in cd, would have ons. intervals of Lssage through but when we of evolution to that direction, st should have of its attain- sign-making, ;n successively )f cfliciency, so he mammalian powers of the it the time may i-enitors to pas; nother, so soon b-ought into ty cr 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 apposi- tion 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 predica- tive 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 intlicative of space- relations — were among the earliest of verbal differentiations, it was not until after a^ons of ages had elapsed that any pronouns arose as specially indicative of the first person.* * See above, pp. 300, joi. ■.■S\ ::=;t i ' 3.S8 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX. i K MUJ .niw I Now, this point I consider one of prime iin[)ortance. I''or it furnishes us with direct evidence of the fact that, lont; after mankind had bct^un to s|)eak, anil even lonjr after they had i^ained consiilerablc proficiencj' in the art of articulate lani;;uat;e, the si)eakers still continued to refer to themselves in that same kind of objective phraseolo^ry as is employed by a child before the dawn of self-consciousness. This, of course, is what on antecedent or theoretical t^^rounds wcshouUl infer ?ftus/ /lavr /hyii the case ; but it is surely a matter of i;reat moment that t)ur inference on this point should admit of such full and independent verification at the hands of philolot^ical research. y\s we have now so repeatedly seen, (he distinction between iileas as receptual and conceptual turns upon the presence or absence of self-consciousness, in the full or intros[)eclive siq;nilication of that term. And, as wc have likewise seen, the outward and visible sij^n of this inward and spiritual ,tjrace is ij^iven in the subjective use of pronominal words, l^ut if these thiiiL;s admit of no question in the case of an individual human mind — if in the case of the f^rowint; child the rise of self-consciousness is demon- strably the condition to that of conceptual thoui;ht, — by what feat of lo,t;ic can it be possible to insinuate that in the }^rowini!j psycholoi^y of the race there may have been conceptual t!iou_i;ht b.efore there was any true self-conscious- ness .? Obviously this cannot be insimialed withovst deny- injT those identical princi[)les of psychology on which jny ojiponents themselves rely. Will it, then, be said that the criterion of self-consciousness which is valid for a child is not valiil for the race — that although in the former the rise of self-consciousness is marked hy the change from objective' tf) subjective phraseology, in the latter a [)recisely sin\ilar change is not to be accreiliteil with a similar meaning ? If this were to be suggested, it would not merely be ijuite gratuitiuis as a suggestion, but directly ojiposed to the whole of an othei wise perfectly parallel analogy. In point of fact, then, there is obviously no escape from the conclr.sion that in the race, as in the individual, the develo})mcnt of true, or n 7 HE TRAXSlTlOy IX T/rF. RACE. 3'^9 ncc. l*'or it t, loni; after tcr they had »f .'uticulatc ^ themselves is employed ;s. This, of ds we should a matter of ihould admit he hands of :atedly seen, I conceptual ciousness, in m. And, as sii^n of this ective r.se of no question in the case ss is demon - hought, — ^by uale that in ^' have been ^If-conscious- ithiout deny II which my !aid that the V child is not r the rise of Dm objective isely similar leaning;? If cly be quite to the whole )oint of fact, I'.sion that in t of true, or "inward," from rcccptual, or "outward." self-consciousness was a gradual process; that its birth in the former is not merely a matter of inference—overpowcrintr though this inference be,-but a matter of actual fact which is recorded in the archives of Language itself; and, therc'"ore, that the ( cMitral ciuestion upon which the whole ot the present treatise has been engaged cannot any longer be regardetl as an open (|uestion. It has been closed, part by part, as the witness ol i)hiIology 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 simi)licity the one decisive fact, that in" th- childhood of the world, no less than in that of the man. we may sec the fundamental change from sense to thought': in the one as in the other do we behold that— "As In- ^rmvs lu> ^jnllicrs mmli. And ItMins du- list- of ' I," ;,ml ' inc,' And finds ' I iini imi wlial I soo. And otlu-i tluin ilio tilings I i.uuli.' "So num. Is he to m scpmalc mind I'loni wlu-mc clem nionioty may I'l-j^in. An tlno' ilic frame that liiiids liim in >Iis isolation j^iows dciini'd." : — »-r" ^^ mi t m\ 'm i I i m 1 ! 5: ;^ ! il t:!t i: If ^ 390 MEXTAL EVOLUTION hV MAX. 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. More- over, 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 arc 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 con- sidering'^ the state of the question a priori. If, in accordance with o'.r assumption, the process of organic and of mental evolucion 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 evolu- tion, elsewhere so uniform and ubiquitous, should have been interrupted at its terminal phase. And this antecedent pre- sumption is still further strengthened by the undeniable fact that, in the case of every individual human being. GENERAL SUMMARY AND CONCLUDING REMARKS. 39 1 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 indiv" "ual 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 (jf historical information. Yet we are asked to believe that, in Fl 392 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. III > * k.( 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 arc 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 poii;t that here requires to be established. im^m I GENERAL SUMMARY AND CONCLUDING REMARK'S. 393 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 super-added 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 ill 394 MEXTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX. I iJ ■ .' '! li \\% [I / \W: of difference, \vc 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 arc demon- strably 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, neverthe- less 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 GENERAL SUMMARY AXD COXCLUDING REMARKS. 395 much more cfificient an instrument than the mind to which it ministers, that its presence can only be explained as a pre- paration for the higher efficiency of mental life as afterwards exhibited by civilized man. Lastly, Professor De Quatrefages contradicts both the English naturalists by vehemently insist- ing that, so far as the powers of intellect are concerned, there is a demonstrable identity of kind between animal intelli- gence and human, whether in the savage or civilized condi- tion : 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 some- what tedious analysis of ideation. The general result was to yield the following as my classification of ideas. r. 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 per- ceptions ; 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 asso- ciation, 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 photo- graph" the sensitive plate is able to unite many more or less similar images into a single picture, so the sensitive tablet of IN i i If 1 1 I ;l i ,h Hi, , 3 ( W ■ j 1 M ' '1 1 'I-' 1, 396 MESTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. 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 interme- diate territory, which is occupied by what I have called generic ideas, or rcccpts, 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 con- sciously 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, con- sciously to combine and elaborate them, intentionally to develop higher products out of less highly developed consti- tuents. This remarkable power we found — also by common consent — to depend on the faculty of self-consciousness, GEXERAL SUMMARY A.VD COXCLUDIXG REMARK'S. 397 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 con- cerned with the philosophy of this fact, but only with its history. How it is that such a faculty as sclf-consciousncss is possible ; what it is that can thus be simultaneously the subject and the object of thought ; whether or not it is con- ceivable 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 can- not 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 con- siderable 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 398 MENTAL EVOLUriOX IN MAN 4; * P1 Hi: 4 , . ! . IfF 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 pre- sent what maybe 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 con- sidered the language of tone and gesture as this is exhibited by man ; then I proceeded to investigate the phenomena of articulation, tKe 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 ot .one 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 GFXERAI. SUMMARY AXD COXCLVDING REMARKS. 399 iguagc means d Mr. Mivart's htly added to, ve classification which the term und to be seven arc admittedly nth, however, is r to the human animals do pre- making faculty ; : lowest degree, if a kind which )f ideas. Brutes other — and also :ying such ideas is able to name ^ords. Now, in ng a number of the level that is tes ; next I con- this is exhibited the phenomena ;sture to words ; t to overburden the subordinate >wever, were that lentical wherever tnventional (as it less efficient than ruction of ideas ; tvveen brute and sign-making in tiaking which we ; real distinction symbols thereof, 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 empliatic in representing that, when once these powers arc 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 con- sists in the latter being able to nicmi a proposition ; and the kind of mental act which this involves is technically termed a "judgment." Predication, or the making of a pro- position — 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 apprehen- sion of whatever meaning it may be that a proposition serves to set forth. Now, this is admitted by all my opponents who under- stand the psychology of the subject. Moreover, they allow that if once this chasm of predication were bridged, theiv 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 dis- tinctively 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 :i ( ti > : M i" ■ (>' 400 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. the ground of this proof; fc, but to i-nozv think A as his Itinction, I have receptual kind, of the concep- low-wow" (as a m GENERAL SUMMARY AND CO XC LCD IXC, REMARKS. 4OI 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 perform- ing any act oi 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 zoo- logical 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 mj' opponents can afford to deny that in one sense of the word there ma}- be iiames without concepts : whether as gestures or as words (" vocal gestures"), there may be signs of things without tliese signs presenting any vestige of predicative value. Now, it is in order not to prejudice the case of my op[)onents, and thus clearly to mark out the field of discussion, that I have insti- tuted the distinction between names as receptual and concep- tual, or denotative and denominative. This distinction having been clearly understood, the ne.xt point was that both kinds of names admit of connotativc 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 connotativc extension of a rame 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. Hut the important point is that it unquestionably takes i)lace 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 abundantl)- proved that long 2 D 4o: MENTAL EVOLUriOX IX MAX. 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 rcceptual 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 ch'ld r roon as it does, is because its receptual intelligence is ^ i.ciently deve- loped 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 conno- tative 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 ar v:!e, in an extraordinary degree, to understand these so, ' . that is to say, they can learn the meanings of an a,-' .; if Ing number of denotative names, and also be taught to app '..i« nd 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 greatl) 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 vith evidence ,s come to the gh level in the by means of , it is inevitable 3uld undergo a these powers of id, as a matter alking bird will .articular to any 1 a young child, ative name still tally pictures, of )f a parrot were be, we can have ly reason why in roon as it does, «uuiciently deve- ;s and pictures to .resent. But the 1 that of a parrot, nces of this kind. led to be able to live names, there [accompanied the reach of conno- -ily animals which for the imitation ikeys ar - >'e, in lose so. ' ■ that ,f an ■. ; i?' -nS:? ight to app '-:>»-''»'^ ative significance. ese sounds, after |iey would greatly lal connotation. such hypothetical us -vith evidence GEXERAL SUMMARY AXD CONCLUDIXG REMARKS. 403 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 conno- tative extension of denotative names by children before the age at which self-consciousness supervenes — and, therefore, prior to the very condition ivliich is required for coiiccptna/ 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 conno- tation 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 concep- tual ideation — i.e. i)rior to the dawn of self-consciousness. Tiiis subordinate distinction I characterized by the terms " lower recepts " and " higher recepts." Already I had insti- 404 MEXTAf. EVOLUTIOX IX MAX. tutcd a distinction between "lower concepts" and "his/her concepts," meaning by the former the conceptual naming oi" recepts, and by the latter a similar naming of other concepts. So that altogether four large and consecutive territories were thus marked out: (j) Lower Recepts, which arc co-extensive with the psychology of existing animals, including a very )-oung child ; (2) Higher Recepts, which occupy a psycho- logical 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 qualif)- the existing word "judgment." Such, indeed, has alread)- been the practice among psychologists, who speak of "in- tuitive judgments'.' as occurring even in acts of perception. All, therefore, that I propose to do is to institute two addi- tional classes of non-conceptual judgment — namel}', lower receptual and higher receptual, or, more briefly, receptual and pre-conceptuai. If one may speak of an "intuitive," "uncon- scious," 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-con- ceptual 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, GEXEKAL SL'MMARY AXD COXC/J'DIXG AVi .V.I A' AS. 405 " and "hiLjhLM- ptual namint^ of f other concepts. territories were are co-extensive iicluding a very :cupy a psycho- Is and the first Lower Concepts, icious naming of to do with the ^ known as such, 1 integrations as y it must also be nceptual naming f pre-conccptual expression. No ould be reserved [ut, in order to cr thus toquaUf)- cd, has ah-ead>- o speak of "in- s of perception, titute two addi- — namely, lower )-, receptual and tuitive," "uncon- icn we mistake may we speak d dives from a id), or a prc-con- cxtend the use tive conception), on to which the r metaphorically 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 rccepts, 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 stixteincnt of a truth perceived ; but not the statement of a truth perceived as trite. 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 stale a truth as true, it is thereby proved that in the psychological history of every human l)eing 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 lov/er kiiul 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 tlu; place at which there first supervenes the faculty of introspec- tive reflection. The whole issue is thus reduced to an % I IV wmmmm m 406 ME XT A L EVOLUTIOX IX MAX. , , ) i 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 previous!)- remarked, so far as this our analysis is concerned, we have only to deal with the psycholojry of self-consciousness : we arc 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 P'urthermore, it will be granted that self-consciousness consists in paying the same kind of atten- tion 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 on-: 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 corre- sponding 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 intro- spective 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, halluci- nation, &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 y. GENERAL SUMMARY AXD CONCLUDING REMARK'S. 407 lalysis, therefore, y occurs in man, hat any material cr, as previously ncerncd, we have Dnsciousncss : we ow, as a matter that the faculty nt ; that durint^ ig intelligence of ilty at all ; that 1 is already much hat, even so, it is I'ards destined to to the faculty of .1 be granted that ne kind of attcn- s habitually paid 1, of course, the ed are as various t will be further e minds of men, id that the only are not attended DU of their corre- utc is not able to association, so as s region of intro- )roved that this rtain amount of cnt on sensuous c phenomena of •earning, halluci- \t in our more be an interna! :rem one image suggests another, this another, and so on, without the need of any immediate associations supplied from present objects of sense. P^urthermore, I have pointed out that rcceptual 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 rccepts, even in brutes, is sufificient 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 docs not recognize either its own or an)- other individuality as such. Nevertheless, there is thus given a rudimentary or nascent form of self-consciousness, which up to the stage of develop- ment that it attains in a brute or an infant may be termed reccptual 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-con- sciousness 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-con- sciousness does arise, the child, of course, is able to do this ; and then only is supplied the condition sine qud iion 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 con- ceptual predication — the child, in virtue of its pre-conceptual |f Mi;' 40S MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IN MAN. 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-concep- tual self-consciousness of which it is the expression amounts to nothing more than a practical rccorjiition 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 ejectivc 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 cjective states as it thus receptually apprehends. These, therefore, severally receive their appro- priate 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 1^ n I 1 its wants, and )f pre-conceptual s pre-conccptual the pre-conccp- )ression amounts on of self as an ctive recognition ution, and what )lied by its logic ing as signs of : of other minds, f as an active, illusion has just al, the child has ;d machinery of 1, is due to the ^Jow among the on of the mental l^reatly increased child is able to hus reccptually e their appro- precision as xperienced by ould have no knew from his thus ejectively It at the same to mamma." hing the very ss. The child, e phraseology ; on of his own same way as ise-perception. mental vision ex] Wi k ^ GENERAL SUMMARY AXD CO\CLrDL\G REMARKS. 409 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 siic/i, 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 attachitig verbal signs to mental states has the effect of focussing attention upon those states ; and when attention is thus focussed habitual!}', there is supplied the only further con- dition which is required to enable a mind, through its memor)' 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 conscious- ness of self consists. Several subordinate features in the evolution of this con- ceptual 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 'o 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 ? I 410 MEXTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX. \\ manifestations, in different regions of psychological inquiry, of the same psychological distinctions. And \vc 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. More- over, wc have seen that the distinction is on all hands allowed to depend on the presence or absence of self-consciousness. Lastl}', we have seen that even in the province of self-con- sciousness 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-conciousness, 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 ? Tins 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 ".n)' such difference be alleged with regard to the earlier stages of the next two phases — namel}-, the denotative and the receptually connotative. Moreover, I had shown that no difiercncf 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, T 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, com- Mt GEXERAL SCAnrARY AM) COSCI.UDING REMARKS. 41 I tnunicativc, or pre-conccptual proposition as " Dit ki " (Sister is crying), I proceeded thus. "Dit" is the denotative name of one recept, "ki" the deno- tative 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—/.^, brings them into apposition. The apposition in consciousness of these two recepts, with their corresponding denotations, is thus efifected for the child bj- the logic of events : it is not effected bj 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 < ^nceptual 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-conscious- ness. If, on the other hand, you say that here you have not conceptual judgment, inasmuch as you have not self-con- sciousness, 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 l)reccdcnt conditions of which are suj^plied far down in the animal scries. 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 scries of gradations the human f- i n 412 MEXTAL EVOUTIOX IX MAX. iiitclli^'cncc becomes distinct in kind from that of animals, and therefore also from its own previous self ' if so, }'our argument here ends in a contradiction. In confirmation of this my ^^eneral argument, two sub- sidiary considerations were then added. Tiic first was that althout^h the advance to true self-consciousness from lower grades of mental development is no doubt a very great antl 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 distinc- tion sui i^cneris — ox even, perhaps, the principal distinction — between the man and the brute. For even when self-con- sciousness 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-con- sciousness 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 fr ''ow that, great as the importance of self-consciousness aft rds proves to be in the development of distinctively humci.. lUeation, in itself, or in its first beginning, it docs not betoken any very per- ceptible advance upon those powers of pre-conceptual ideaticjn 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 difierence 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 intel- ligence 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 intel- ligence, both receptual and pre-conceptual ideation continue to play an important part. The vast majority of our verbal i i: ;: GEXERAL SC'AnfARV A.V/' COXC/.UDIXG R/LVAKkS. 415 ])ro[)osition.s are trade for the practical purposes of coinimi- nication, or without the mind pausini^ to contem[)latc the pro- positions in the light of self-consciousness. No doubt in many cases, or in those where hii^hly abstract ideation is concerned, this independence of the two faculties is more apparent than real : it arises from each haviiit; undcrt^one so much elabo- ration by the assistance which it has derived from the othe •, that both are now in possession of a lari^c bod)' of organized material on which to operate, without recpiiring, whenever thc\- are exercised, to build up the structure of this material nh initio. When I say " Heat is a mode of motion," I am usin^- what is now to me a mere verbal sign, which expresses an external fact : I do not rctiuire 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. Hut 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 arc concerned to which I have so often referred as receptual and pre-conccptual, the independence is not only apparent, but real. Now, if the reasons which I have assigned for this conclusion are ade- quate — 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 exclu- sively 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. I'or concepts are first of all named recepts, known as such ; and (I- 1 ^ 414 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. Sii \vc have seen in previoMs chapters that this kind of kiiowled<;e (/>. of names as names) is rendered possible by introspection, which, in turn, is reached by the naming of self as an agent. Ikit 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 maile. Given the power of denotative nomination on the one hand, and the power of even the lowest degree of connotativi i.mination on the other, and all the conditions are furnished to the formation of non-conceptual statements, which differ from true propo- sitions 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 cMcn potentially capable of itself becoming an object of thought. The investigation having been thus concluded so far as comparative psychology was concerned, I next turn(cl 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 tlistinctively human id*, tion, 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 'Mstoric 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 ,i gradual evolution. In the chapter on "Comparative i^l :/a: GEXEKAL SUMMARY AXD CONCLUDING REMARKS. 415 kind of knowledj^^e e by introspection, self as an a£jent. )spcction has been t upon it for the Igc ; and tiierefore be introspectivcly . Given the power and the power of mination on the to the formation from true propo- 3ecome objects of such a statement e statement when :lie former case it ning an object of onchided so far , I next turnixi of comparative n dealing with alone we might development of d to that large 3y the record of render a kind progress of this e philology has lity of question, ar ready-made, Comparative f the fact that he result of a "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 m-'^^cr of classification, that the thousand or more existing lar. uages fall into about one hundred families, all the members of each family being more or less closely allied, while mjmb.rs of different families do not present evidence of genetic affinity. Nevertheless, tnesc families admit of being comprised under larger groui)s or "orders," in accordance with certain characteristics of structure, or type, which they present. Of these types all philologists arc agreed in distinguishing between the Isolating, the Agglutinating, and the Inilectional. Some philologists make a similar distinction between these anil the Polysynthetic, while all are agreed that from the agglu- tinative the Incorporating type has been derived, and from the inflectional the Analytic. Passing on from classific;n in experience 2d ; while in the such association, can no longer Duld prove early as distinguished IS and processes o perception, as cd by Professor •dcr of ideation virtue of which its higher recep- sness. In view at the 121 root- eptual thought, y small a part jractical life of orn the really lan as was that :ord of ideation 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 fKif-ting 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 tivo, 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 pre- dication, wherein the " parts of speech " as yet have no exist- ence. 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 pre- dicative 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 par- ticular, we saw thai pronouns were originally words indicative of space relations, and strongly suggestive of accompany- ing 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," * 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." f Pronominal • Fiuinr. t Garnctt. f i! T^l m i I ■ I [i-i A- li I i :, u 422 MEXTAL EVOLUTION LV AfAN. elements afterwards became affixed to nouns and verbs, when these began to be differentiated from one another ; and thus various appHcations of a primitive and highly generalized noun or verb were rendered by means of these elements, which, as even Professor ]\Iax IMuller allows, "must be con- sidered 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 Avhose 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 " gram- mar has grown out of gesture" — different parts of speech, with the subsequent commencements of declension, conjuga- tion, &c., being all so many children of gesticulation: but when in subsequent ages the parent was devoured by this youthful progeny, they coniinucd 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, how- ever, 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 f.v: GF.XERAL SVM.UARY AXD COXCIAJDLXC, REM \RKS. ; and verbs, when nother ; and thus ighly gencrah'zed these elements, 5, "must be con- nost pantomimic ardly as yet what cring, but only a ■cs of this stage in h, be it observed, r a young child be assisted by ne in the history : sounds uttered : representations :re accompanied : )mplex in which, Z apart from the was that " gram- parts of speech, ension, conjuga- ation: but when by this youthful pendent growth velopment. : to prove that, a firm footing, ive and genitive adjectives, nor and predicate- required to be nere apposition se of time, hovv- s were effected ien the words dication being 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 ageb been evolved by the mind of the speaker, gradually gave way to the later and more refined machinery of suffixes, auxiliaries, and the like." * 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." t 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 in- dicative. 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 prv,dication as this happens to have been developed in the Indo-European branch of lan- guage ; but altogether upon those of material predication, or, * Sayce. t Max Mullcr. ■ I n 424 MENTAL EVOLUTION LV MAX. 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 jiinst 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 acknow- ledged 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 t\\\z 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 betiveen all stages of the sign-making faculty ; and, ^ii!-il of a judgment, GENERAL SUMMARY A XD CONCLUDIXG REMARKS. 4:5 therefore, that any attempt to draw between one and another of them a distinction of kind has been shown to be impossible. The conchisions 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 philologj' 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 ps}-choUi ;y, 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 wa.s shown that, owing to tiie young child being surrounded by an already constructed granuuar of predicative forms, the earlier phases in the evolution of speech are greatly foreshortened in the ontogeny of mankind, as compared w ith 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 mv' psycho- logical distinction between ideas as general and generic. For a sentence-word is the expression of an idea hitherto generalized, that is to say iindiffcrcutiated. Such an itlea, as we now know, stands at the antipodes of thought from owe which is due to what is called a generalization — that is to sa}-, a conceptual synthesis of the results of a previous analyses. And the doctrine of sentence-words recognizes an immense historical interval (corresponding with the immense psycho- II 'i i, i I I': (!■ : t 11 l> • H .1 ' : II h- y ill ui 4J6 MEXTAL EIVIA'JIOX IX MAX. 1 >gical interval) between the frcncric 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 archaeology 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 ilays 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 frori 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 ten, of this kind (which as yet is neither noun, adjective, nor ■ crb;, 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. e trcncral orders GEXERAL SUMMARY AXD COXCLUDIXG K I- MARKS. 4J7 Now, if all this has been the case, it is obvious that aboriginal words can have referred only to matters of purely receptual significance— /.r. "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, uncjuestionablc 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 our- selves 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, ps)'chological 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 wh:it Archdeacon Farrar calls " the hopeless poverty of the power of abstrac- tion" is so surprising, that the most ardent evolutionist could not well have desired a more significant intermediary between the pre-conceptual intelligence of Homo alaliis, and the con- ceptual thought of Homo sapiens. 1)1 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. 42S ME^'TAL EVOLUTION IX MAA'. I., I 1 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, c idently 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, arc, I believe, sound enough in themselves : it is only the premiss from which in this instance they start that is unlrue. 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 "j)urel}' physiological" h)-pothesis in question presents, I rejected it as in itself not even approaching a full explana- tion of the origin of speech. Next I dealt with the hypothesis that was briefly sketched by Mr. Uarwin. Premising, as Geigcr 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 semian ancestry an advantage over other species of quadrumana in the mi'':ter of associating sounds with receptual ideas ; we next endeavoured to imagine a. anthropoid ape, social in habits, sagacious in mind, and accustomed to use its voice extensively as an organ of sign- making, after the mannor 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 f^ostures, as " sentence-words " — i.e. as indicative of such highly generalized reccpts as the GEXERAL SUMMARY AXD COXCLUDLXG REMARKS. 4:9 il sign-making, of associating presence of danger, &c., — even if it did not go the Icnglli 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 accus- tomed 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 scmiotic 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 alreatly been more human than "ape-like." This Homo aldlas 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 com- municate the logic of his reccpts 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 a. iculate sounds would be an even more easy matter to imagine than it was under the previous hjpothesis. 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 hich still survive as so-called " :licks " 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 subseijucnt evolution, and met the objection which might be raised on the score of //l '10 alaliis being Homo post ulaiiis. In conclusion, however, I pointed out that whatever might be the truth as touching the time when the faculty of articulation arose, the crurse of mental evolution, after it did arise, must have beer, the same. Without again repeating r^-rsf nnpi 1" 1 91 ^ ^ ' 11 ^ ffl i Im ' wk raK ^^ \ ii ' \ )'• ^^^'-< fi- i T 3; i It 1 i'l iii \\ 1 \- t i • i? I |l! i ! 1 i -■ •^ 1 1 i ■! H ■ t ; i ^ 1 : ! ■ 1 ! 1' ! i: ij 430 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. 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 sig- nificance 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 con- ceptual 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." A'. GENERAL SUMMARY A XD COXCLUDIXC, REMARKS. .\\\ must have been, leral terms, that association with on one another tative names, for ■pidly underwent n and necessarily rose ; that these .tical distinctions le one hand, and 'ise gesture-signs :her grammatical many of which DUt of which the developed ; but he earliest words separate parts of at any pronouns )crson. The sig- lighly important. tinction between absence of con- xpression of the Consequently, :crned with the a distinction of nt. In the case \. is a distinction )usly shown that istion is marked objective terms 1;l ;i ' 43^ MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. that the condition to this advance in mental evolution is given by a perceptibly progressive development of those powers of denotative and connotativc 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 cmbryologist is accustomed to rely when he rends 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 ado[)tingthe principles of evolution, have gratuitously ignored the direct evidence of psxxhological 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 INIuller 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 philo- logists are agreed, I have purposely given Professor Max Muller an even more representative place than any of the others, fully stated the nature of his objections, and sup- plied 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 materi- ally helped to support, they appear to arise from the following grounds. P'irst, a want of clearness with regard to the principles of evolution in general : * second, a failure * See csperifilly Scii'itre of Thcui^hf, chaps, ii. and iv. The following quotalioiis may sultlcc lo justify this slalement. " If once a genus has been riglilly reco(;nizeJ as .such, it seems to me self-contradictory to admit tiiat it could ever give rise to another genus, , . . Once a sheep always a slieep, 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 lite 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 setlleii remains settled, CEyERAL SUMMAKY AXD CO.VCrmiXa AV-ArAA'AS. 433 )lution is given lose powers of e found as far birds ; that in us as complete phylogeny," as ;d to rely when in the epitome [dividual ; and, ,vho, elsewhere itously ignored Lation which is dividual human ^s of philology, king and often time have been cfcrcncc to our all his brother |ing to authority ,hich all philo- Professor Max nan any of the ions, and sup- ficient answers, of his dissent rk has materi- risc from the |ss with regard cond, a failure |v. The following Imis has V)ceii rightly ll thai it could ever once an ape always Isimply irrational is liy should it be the Tr of the first man, led remains settled. 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 pal.eontology 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 Miillcr him- self would disagree with Gciger 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 pre- sent? I know not of any other answer to be given than that the further they go back the less conceptual ity do they b'jtoken."* Nor can he refuse to admit, with the same or, if it varies, it varies within definiteliniits only ? (pp. 212-215). . . . Ifthe^crni of a man never develops into an ape, nor the germ of an a[K' 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 (late from the same period which marks the beginning of organic life on earth — that lie 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), &e., &c. So far as can be gathered from these, and other statements to the same effect, it does not appear that Professor Max Midler can ever liave quite understood the theory of evohilion, 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. * ( 'ispriiit^ do- Sprai/ic, s. 84. 2 F 434 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN. authority, that " conceptual thought {B''griff) allows itself to be traced backwards into an ever narrowing circle, and inevitably tends to a point where there is no longer cither thought or speech." * But if these things cannot be denied by Max Miiller himself, I am at a loss to understand why he should part company with other pliilologists 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.! 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, i Pi ! * Urspruiig dcr Spmchc, s. 1 1 9. t 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 b^ no argument, upon the basis of this definition, to say that there cannot be names williout concepts ; for, in terms of the defini- tiiin, this would merely be to enunciate a truism : it would be merely to sny that without concepts there can be no concepts, nor, <) forttoii, the signs of them. In short, the issue is by no means one as to a definition of terms ; it is the plain queslion whether or not a non -conceptual sign is the precursor of a conceptual one. And this is the question which 1 cannot find that Max Miiller has adequately faced . lows itself to T circle, and longer either lot be denied derstand why :s with regard -m he asserts is (spoken or hat when the philology can 5hing point of ound that this ached by the cannot record is out for an he place where )iy I can only usly fallen into is B, therefore oncepts without names without conclusion he Icither names or li, it seems, must if this were so, Ins only signs of iileas he would refuse lo It'or the question here T)l by what terms we [her or not they tUtTer reserved for signs of of this definition, to terms of the defini- I lie merely to say that Ihe signs of them. In Lrms ; it is the plain lursor of a conceptual 1 Midler has adequately GEXERAL SUMMARY AXD COXCLCD/XG K!:MARk'S. 435 it is manifestly impossible to account for the natural genesis of either. But the whole of this trouble is imatrinarv. 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 rcceptual, 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 con- nexion 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 combinetl, clearly no difference would arise so far as any question of their influence on psychogencsis 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 measur- able 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 riust 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, mmm :i .t r I ■; Mi 436 MEXTAL EVOLU'IO.V IN J/AX. therefore, yet once a^.iin to (juotc the hij^h authority of (jeiger, " Spcccli created Reason ; before its advent mankind was reasonless." * And if this is true of philoloj^y, assuredly it is no less true of psychology. For " the development of speech is only a copy of that chain of processes, which beg^an with the dawn of I human] consciousness, and eventually ends in the construction of the most abstract idea." f Unless, therefore, it can be shown that my distinction between ideation as receptual and con- ceptual is invalid, I know not how m)' opponents are to meet the results of the foregoing analysis. Yet, if thi'< 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 every- where 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-con- ceptual ; and as carefuU}- have I everywhere shown that with them I fully recogni/.c 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 fr.om 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. I'^or 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 ac- cumulated 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 * Crs/>niiig tf, r S/>i\iclu', s. 91. The c.\act words are, "Die Sprache hat die Vernunft ersciialTen : vor iiir war der Mensch vernunftios." It is needless to observe liiat tlie word which 1 liave rendered by its Knglisli equivalent " Reason" is here used in tiie sense of conceptual thought. t Wundl, I'or/i-sun^'tii, ^-'c, ii. 282. GENERAL SUMMARY AXD COXCLIPIXC. REMARKS. d^T,-J 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 ma)- be said, " is not to be wooed ; it shall only be compelled." Indeed, a man may even pride himself on the severity of his rcciuirements in this respect ; and in popular writings wc often fmd it taken for granted that any scientific doctrine is then only entitled to be regarded as scientific when it has been deinonstrated. l^ut in science, as in other things, belief ought to be pro- portionate 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. Actuall\' 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. lUit 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 probabilit)^ so irresistible that to withhold from it the embrace of conviction would be no longer indicative of scientific caution, but of scientific incapacit}'. Vv>x if, as I am assuming, we already accept the theory of evolution as api)licable 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 canni ( j 1 i i '! ■ I <^»-.t IN DEX. Abstraction. See Ideas Addison, Mrs. K., on sign-niakini; by a jackdaw, 97 Adjectives, approjjriately used by parrots, 129, 130, 152 ; early use of, by children, 219; not ililVerentiuted in early forms of speech, 295 et sei/.: ori^jin of Aryan, 306, and in language generally., 3S5-S6. Adverbs not diHerentiatetl in. early forms of speech, 306 African Bushmen. Sec I'lOttentots African languages. See Languages Agglomerative. See Languages Agglutinating. .SV<' Languages American languages. See Languages Analytic. See Languages Anatomy, evidence of man's descent sup- ]ilied by, 19 Animals. See Hrutes Animism of primitive man, 275 Ants, intelligence of, 52, 53 ; sign-making by. 91-95 Apes, brain-weight of, 16 ; bodily struc- ture of, 19; counting by, 58, 215; understanding of words by, 125, 126; unable to imitate articulate sounils, '53~'57 ! psychological characters of anthropoid, in relation to the descent of man, 364-370 ; singing, 370, 373-378 ; other vocal sounds niaile by, 374 ; erect attitude assumed by, 381, 382 Appleyard on language oi savages, 349 Apposition. .SVv Predicaliun Aristotle, on intelligence of bruto^-, 12, and of man, 7'^. , nis classification of the animal kingdom, 79 : his logic l)ascd on grammar of the Greek language, 314, 320 Articulation, cliap. vii. ; classitication of dilTerent kinds of, 121 ; meaningless, 121, 122; understanding of, 122-129; by ilogs, 1 28; use of, with intelligent signification by talking birds, 129-139; arbitrary u>e of, l)y young children, 13S-144; relation of, to tone ami gesture, 145-162 ; importance of sense of sight to development of, 36O, 367 ; probable per'odand mode of genesis of in the race, 370-373 Aryan languages. See Languages Aryan race, civilization of, 272 ; antiquity of. 273 Audonin on a n\onkey recognizing pic- torial representations, 188 Axe, iliscovery of, by neolithic man, 214 B Barter only used by man, 19 HaM|ue language. See Language Bateman, Dr. V., on speech-centie i>r brain, 134, 135 Hales, on intelligence of ants, 92, 93 ; on a moidhnien, 373 Bonaparte, Piince Lucien, on possible number of articulate sounds, 373 Iiopp on the origin of speech, 240 Howen, I'rofessor 1'"., on psychology of judgment, 167 Hoyd Dawkins, Professor, on discovery ol axe by neolithic man, 214 Jiramston, Miss, on intelhgence of a dog, 56 Ura/il, climate and native languages of, 262, 263 Hrown, Thomas, on generalization, 44 IJrowning, A. 11., on intelligence of a dog, 99, 100 Urutes, mind of, compared wil'.i 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, II, 12; soul of, 12 ; liishop Hutter on immor- lalily of, 12 ; instances of intelligence of, 51-63 ; ideas of causality in, 58-60 ; appreciation of ])rinciples by, 60, 61 ; sign-maki.ig by, SS 102 ; imdeisiand- ing of 'vords by, 123 127; articulation by, IJ.S 13S, 152 ; reasons why none have become intellectual rivals of man, 154-157 ; self-consciousiites in relation to, 175 178; recognizing pictorial re- preseiiialions, 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 Uuffon, on intelligence of brutes, 12, 117 ; his parrot, 201 Hansen, on onomatopaia, 282 ; on Kgyp- tian language, 297, 29S ; on the sub- stantive verb, 309 Hurton on sign-making by Indians, 105 Hushmen, clicks in the language of, 291 Hutler, liishop, on immortality of brutes, 12 cs California, climate and native language of, 261, 262 Caldwell on language of savages, 349 Carlyle on funtlamental metaphor, 344 Carpenter, Commander Alfred, on mon- keys using stones to open oysters, 382 Casalis on poverty of savage languages in abstract terms, 351 Cat, iiitelligence 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 ; difTerent tones uttered by, 96 ChampoUion i>n Egyptian hieroglyphics, 311 Charlevoix on language of savages, 349 Cheyenne language. Siv 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 articula- tion by, 121, 122; understanding of words by infantile, 123 ; s|)onlaneous invention of words by, 138-143 ; in dicative stage of language in, 158, 218- 222, 324 ; denotation and connotation of, i-o, 191, 218-231, 283 285 ; recog- iii/ing portraits, &c,, 1S8, 189; rise articular and generic ideas, 76-7S ; in relation to judgment and self- coiisciousness, 168-191 ; Max Miiller's alleged, 221 ; in relation to non-con- ceptual faculties, 234-237 ; attainment of, by the indi\ 'dual, 230-232 ; origi- luil, 269-281 ; philologital proof of derivation of, from recepts, 343-349 Concrete ideas. .S',v Ideas Connotation, 88, 89, 136, 137, 157, 159- 162, 169, 170, 179-184, 218, 219, a«3. _ 284, 294 et set/., 368, 383, 384 Conscience. See Morality Coptic language. See Language Copula, ;he, 172, 173, 230, 309, 314, 3S7 Counting, by rooks, 56, 57, 214, 215; by an ape, 58, 215 ; by sensuous com- putation anil by separate notation, 57, 215; by savages, 2 1 5 Crawford on Malay language, 351 Cronise on vhc climrac of California, 261 Crows, intelligence of, 56, 57 Cuvier or speech as the most distinctive characteristic of man, 371 1) Dammaras, counting b)-, 215 Darwin, Charles, on intelligence of sr v.age man in relation to his cerebral develop- ment, 16, 17 ; on intelligence of ani- mals, 51, 52, 54; on pointing of sport- ing dogs, 97 ; on expression of emoiioiiN, 103; on psychogenesis of chiUl, 123, 158; on self-consciousness, 199; on descent of man, 369, 370, 374-3/6. 380 Da_ ..k language. See Language Deaf-nnites, sign-making by, 105-120; ideation of, 149, 150, 339-34' ; '"" vention of i.rticulate signs by, 122, 263, 367 De Fraviere on sign-making by bees, 90 Demonstrative elements. See I'lonouns Denomination, 88, 89, 161, 162, 168-170, 294, ef jtv/. Denotation, 88, 80, 157, 158, 159, iC>2, 168, 1 79- 1 84, 218, 219, 294 'Y .ivy., 368-369, 383, 384, 38O De (Jualrefages, on di'iinctions between animal and human intelligence, 17-19; on intelligence of a dog, 198 ; on poverty of savage 'anguages in abstract terms 351 Dog, seeking water in hollows, 51 ; making allowance for driftway, 52 ; ge- neric ideas shown by, 54, 352 : ihr. 'ig imaginary pigs, 56 ; idea of causa- tion shown liy, S'ti 60; |iointing and backing of, 97, 98; other gesture .-•rt.ns made by, 99, 100, 221 ; understan by, 124, 125; alleged i In J If nil II r: (9 (i; ii< 444 INDEX. articulalioii liy, 12S; Indian sign for harking, 146 ; rcct)gni/,ing piclorial re- ])rusentalions, 188; practising conceal- ment and hypocrisy, 19S ; ejeclive itlcation of, 198 ; rcccptual self-con- sciousness of, 199; counting by, 215; '"•'KK'nf,' before a bitch, 221 ; deaf- mute's articulate name of, 367 Donaldson on ilemonstrative elements, 244 lliihhn RiTu-,0 on psychology of judg- ment, 166, 167 Dumas, Alex., on sign-making, ill Du I'onceau on language of savages, 349. 351 !•: luitons. .S'tv Ants llgyptian language. See Language Kle|)liant, intelligence of, 98 I'^llis on early luiglish pronunciation, 373 Kmerson on fundamental metaphor, 344 Amotions of man and brutes compared, 7 Kmpty words, 24O J'lucyclo^udia Britanuica (1857), on the origin of s|)cech, 240 jMiglish language. See Language Etruscan language. .SVi' Language F r.irrnr, Archdeacon, on dem()nstrative elements, 244 ; on in\ention of lan- guages by children, 263; on roots of language, 268. 358 ; on origin of the verb, 275 ; on jiaucily of words in vocabulary of Liiglish labourers, 280 : on oiiomatopii'ia, 284-288, 290; on objective phraseology of young children and early man, 301 ; -in the substan- tive verb, 309 ; on fundamental meta- jihor, 344 ; on language of savages in respect of abstraction, 350 ; on absence of subjective personal pronouns in early forms of speech, 421 1' eejee language. See Language Urc only made by man, 19 Fitzgerald, I'. !•"., on self-consciousness, 212 Flight, cajiability of, in insects, reptiles, birds, and mammals, 156, 157 Forbes, James, on intelligence of monkeys, ICX) Fox, intelligence of, 55, 56 Frogs, understanding by, of tones of human voice, 124 C Galton, Francis, on ideas as generic images, 23 ; on relation of thought to s])eech, 83; on intelligence of Dam- maras, 215 (larnett, (jii nature and analysis of the verb, 275, 307, 309-312 ; on sentence - words, 300 ; on |irimitive forms of predication, 318 ; on fundamental meta- ])hor, 344, 358 ; on absence of subjec- tive cases of pronouns in early forms of s]ieech, <.2i (leiger, on ideas, 45 ; on dependence of thought upon language, oj ; on imder- standing of words by brutes, 127; on roots of Liriguage, 268, 273, 336; on distinriion between ideas as general and genei ic, 279 ; on increasing con- ceptuality of terms with increase of culture, 280; on the impossibility of language ha\iiig ever consisted exclu- sively ofgeneral terms, 2S2 ; on Ili'yse's theory of the origin of spceili, 289 ; on ononiatojireia, 292; on the vanishing point of language, 314, 354 ; on funda- mental metaj'hor .is illustrated by names of tools, 345, 346, and words of moral signiticance, 346, 347 ; on the sense of sight in relation to the origin of speech, 3O6, 3O7 ; on Homo ahtlin, 380 (jeiioral ideas. See Ideas (ienerali/.ition. See Ic.eas (jeneric iileas. See Kecepts (lenitive case, philology of, 305, 385 Geolfroy Saint-ililaire, Isid., on a mon- key recognizinj: piclorial represetila- tiuns, 188 IXDEX. 445 on sclf-conscimisness, )f, in insects, reptiles, lals, 156, 157 Ucllitjenceof monkeys, f. 55. 56 in^ by, of tones of 4 (1 on ideas as generic relation of tlioiight to intelligence of Dam- c and analysis of the 309-312 ; on sentence- )n primitive forms of ; ; on funilamenlal meta- ; on absence of subjec- )n '""J-^- ;)r as illustrated by h45» 34^' ^"^' words of Ice, 34O, 347 ; "" »'"■■ lrelati(m to the origin of ; on Ifoino alaliis, 3S0 It- Ideas •e Ideas Recepts logy of, 305, 3S5 lire, Isid., on a nion- piclotial represe»ila- Cleology, imperfect record of, 19 Gesture. Si-e Language (libbon. Si-e Apes (joethe on obliteration of original mean- ings of words, 284 Goodl)ehere, S., on sign-making l)y a pony, 97 (ioriiia. .S'lV Apes Greek. See Language Green, I'rofessor, on self-ces, 301 Haughton, Sir tlraves, on roots of lan- guages, 275 Hebrew. .Slrati\e elemeu*--, 244 ; on auxiliary words, 247 ; mi forniul.e of language-structure, 24S ; on atlinities of languages, 250. 255 ; on limitations of conscinant;il sounds in various languaj.»es, 373 Huber on sign-making by insects, 8S-90 Human. .S(V' Man Humboldt on the origin of speech, 240 Wun, |)r. v.. K., on spontaneous inviMt- tion of words by yoinig chiidurt, 140-143 Hungarian language. .SV,- Language Huxley, Professor, on importance of the evolution theory in relation tc) anthro- pology, 2, 3; on animil automatism, II ; on the brain-weight of man as compared with tiiat of anthropoid apes, 16 ; on iileas, 23, 43 ; on import- ance of language to developnuni of human thought, 134 ; on smallness of anatomical dilference which deter- j mines or prevents power of ail iculation, 153. 370. 37' ; "" I'-ychology of judg- ment, 164 ; on erect altitude assumed by gibbon and gorilla, 381, 382 I Icelandic language. .^ Professor Sayce upon, 170; pre-coneeptual, 227-230, 278, 384, 386 ; blank form of, 166, 167, 319, 320 K Khelshua language. See Language Kleinpaul on gesture langu.ige, 120 I-andois on sign-making by bees, 90 Langley, S. P., on intelligence of a spider, 62, 63 Langu.ige, in relation to brain-weight, 16; abstraction dependent on, 25, 30- 39 ; not always necessary to thought, 81-S3 ; etymology and dilTeient signi- fication of the word, 85 ; categories of, 85 89; as sign-making exhibited by brutes, 88-102 ; of tone anil gesture, 104 - 120 ; articulate, spontaneously imitated by children, 138 -143 ; of tone and gesture in relation to words, 145- 162 ; stages of, as indicative, denota- tive, 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, 24S, 249; diiTerentiation of, into parts of speech, 294-320, 339- 342 ; demonstrative elements of, 243- 245 ; of savpges ileficient in abstract terms, 349-353 ; nursery, 365, 366 ; Chinese, 246, 253, 256, 257, 265, 266, 298, 300, 317, 11^, 373 ; Mag>'ir, 253 ; Turkish, 253; Hascpie, 258, 260, 311 ; ICtru>can, 25S ; Hungarian, 259 ; Malay, 259. :>oi, 3"5. 311. 35' ; Lat'". 267 ; Egyptian, 297, 29S, 310, 311 ; English, 247, 259, 266, 338, 348, 373 ; Khetshua, 263; Hebrew, 266, 309; Ciieek, 301, 310, 320 ; Taic, 305 ; Sanskrit, 266- 277, 301, 309, 354; Zend, 309; Li- thuanic, 309 ; Icjlandic, 309 ; Coptic, 310; Javanese, 311 ; Malagassy, 311 ; Philippine, 311 ; Syriac, 31 1 ; Dayak, 317; Feejee, 318; Cheyenne, 348; Australian, 351 ; Eskimo, ^if,! ; Zulu, 351; Tasinanian, 352; Kurd 352; Japanese, yjl; Hottentot, 373, 574 Languages, number o., 245 ; classifica- tion of, 245-251 ; isola'' , .adi or monosyllabic, 245, t .7, 268 ; ap glutinitive or aggloi . itive, 247; in- flective or transpositiv", 247, 248 ; «t .i* JXDEX. 447 aking by bees, 90 on inlelligence of a ition to brain-weight, dependent on, 25, 30- neccssary to thought, )gy and dilTercnt signi- rord, 85 ; categories of, iinaking exhibited by ; of tone and gesture, ticulatc, si)ontaneously dren, 138-143 ; of tone relation to words, 145- as indicative, denota- ve, denominative, and 7-193 ; in relation to ;ss, 212 ; growth of, in ; theories concerning ice, 238 242, 361-384; ^0-245, 264, 265 ; roots 48, 249 ; differentiation r speech, 294-320, 339- ative elements of, 243- es deficient in abstract ; ; nursery, 365, 366 ; 53. 256, 257, 265, 266, ;38, 373; Ma!,'y'ir. 253; i?as(pie, 258, 260, 311 ; lllungarian,259; Malay, l3«i. 35' : 1'=^''"' 267 ; f)S, 310, 311 ; Knglish, 138,348, 373; Ivhetshua, 66, 309; Orcek, 301, k 305 ; Sanskrit, 266- 354; Zend, 309; l.i- Icelandic, 309 ; Coptic, 311 ; Malagassy, 31 1 ; ; Syriac, 311 ; Dayak, 18; Cheyenne, 348; ; Eskimo, ;^';i ; Zulu, n, 352 ; Kurd 332; Hottentot, 373, 374 ler 0., 245 ; dassifica- ; isola' , .adi or ,5, y .7, 268; ap ■gloi . itive, 247 ; u\- ispositiv", a47, 248 ; polysynthetic or incapsulaiing, 249 ; incorporating, 245-250 ; analytic, 250 ; affinities of, 250-259 ; native American, 249. 255. 259-263, 265, 311, 342, 34S, 349, 351 ; African, 260, 263,291, 337, 2,i^> 35'. 373. 374; Aryan and Indo- European, 266-278, 298, 304, 309, 314, 423; Semitic, 266, 311 ; Romance, 30S ; Polynesian, 318 Latham, Ur., on the growth of language, 241 ; on language of savages in respect of abstraction, 351, 352 Latin, roots of, 267. See also I,anguage Laura Ikidgman, 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, (jii intelligence of a dog, 99 Leibnitz on teaching a tlog t') articulate, 128 Leroy on intelligence of wulf, 53 ; of stag, 54, 55; of fox, 55, 5<) ; ol rooks, 56. 57 Lewt:\ G. IL, on the logic of feelings and of signs, 47 ; on judgment, 164 ; on prepercepiiG.'i. 1S5 Links between ape and mnn missing, 19 Lithuanic language. .SV,' Language Locke on ideas, 20 23, 28-30, 65, 1,^2 Logic, of recepts, chap. iii. ; of concepts, 47, and chap. iv. Long on gesture-language, 120 Lubbock, Sir John, oncommuniciitinn !)}■ ants, 94,95 ; on teaching a dogwiiiien signs, loi, 102 Lucretius on the origin of speech, 240 Ludwig on demonstrative elements, 244 M ^Llgyar language. .SV>' Language Malagassy language. See Language Malay language. .SVv Language Malic, Uureau de la, on intelligence of brutes, 12 Mallery, Lieut. -Col., on sign-making by Indians an I deaf-m.ites, &c., 105-112, 1 17-120 ; on teacliinj a cl )g to articu- late, uS; on sign for a b.irking dog, 146 ; on genetic relation between ges- tures and words, 342, 34S, 349 Man, antecedent remarks on psychology of, 4-6 ; points of reseud)lance between his psychology and that of brutes, 6- 10; points of dilference, 10-39; intel- ligence of savage, 13. 16, 17, 215, 337, iil^^ 349-353. and of pakeoliihic and neolithic, 14, 213, 214 ; corporeal struc- ture of, 19 ; animism of savage and primitive, 275 ; si)eechless, 277 ; differ- ences between infantile, and infantile child as regards (ievelopmenl of speech, 329-334 ; Use of personal proncmn by early, 300, 301, 3S7-389 ; hypotheses as to mode of origin of, from brute, 361- 3S9 ; 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 Mauilsjey, l*r., on self-consciousness, 212 Maury on poverty of savage languages in alisiiacl terms, 351 M'Cook, Rev. Dr., on sign-making by ants, 95 Metaphor, importance of, in evolution of speech, 343 349 Meunier, on tite understanding of wonis by brutes, 125 ; on talking birds, 130 Midas, a, recognizing pictorial ie[)reseii- tat ions, 188 Mill, James, on the copula, 173 Mill, John Suiart, on ideas as abstract anil concrete, 25 ; on the logic of feel- ings and of signs, 41, 42 ; on judgment, 48 ; on connotation a^d dennminatinn, 109 ; on conception, '.72 ; on the copula, 173 ; on predication. 230 Milligan on poverty of srvage languages in abstract terms, 352 Mind, undergoes e\olulioii, 46 ; of man and bru'.e compared, 7-39 ; classifica- timi of faculties of artiiicial, 234 Missing links, 19 Mivart, St. Ceorge, on psychology of 448 /XDEX. |!||!>'l \A brutes, lo, 177 ; on animal automatism, II; on supcrioiity of savage mind to sii'iian, 16 ; on absence in brutes of tlie idea of causality, 58 ; on relation of thought to s])eech, 83 ; on categories of language, 85, 86 ; on rationality of brutes, 87 ; on psychology of judgment, 165-167 ; on thought and rellection, 177, 178 Mixed ideas. Sec Ideas Moffat, R., on invention of languages by cliildren, 263 Monboddo on the origin of speech, 240 Monkeys, general intelligence of, 60, 61, 100, loi ; discovering mechanical prin- ciples, 60, 61, 213, 214; moie intelli- gent and imitative than parrots, 153; recognizing i)ictorial representations, 188; understanding words, 369 ; using stones to open oysters, 382 Monosyllabic. .Siv Languages Morality, alleged to distinguish man from brute, 17-19, 346; terms relating to, derived from ideas morally inlifferent, M(h 347 Morshead, K. J., on comparative psycho- logy. 37 Moschkan, Dr. A., on talking birds, 130 Miiller, !•"., on sign-making by bees, 90 Midler, [., on absence in brutes of the idea of causality, 58 Midler, I'rufcssor Kriedrich, on ideas, 45 ; on language, as not identical with thought, 83; on ela-silicaiion of lan- guages, 24s ; on sentence-worils, 296 ; | on undilTerentiatcd language of child, 297 ; on origin of pronouns, 302 ; on the genitive case, 305 ; on the origin of speech, 362 Miiller, I'rofessor V. Max, on ideas, 42, 43 ; on langu.age as necessary to thought, 81, 83 ; on jisychology of judgment, 165; on the copula, 173; tin origin of the personal pionoun, 2ip ; on evolution of language, 241 ; on (lenionstralivc elements, 244, 423; on rnots of Sanskrit, 267-289 ; on undiffer- eiitialed language of young rhildren, 296, 317 ; on si'Mlince-words, 298-300, 317; on gesture origin of pronouns, 302, and of language in general, 354 ; on origin of ailjectives, 306; on the origin of verbs, 307 ; on Chinese sintence-words, 317 ; on Aristotle's logic as based on (ireek grammar, 320, 321 ; on philology proving that human thought has proceeded from the abstract to the coiiere'e, 334-336 ; on names necessarily implying concepts, 336, 337 ; on fimdamental metajihor, 344, 345 ; on imperfection f)f early names, 356 ; on the evolution of parts of speech, 423 ; on the general theory of evf)lu- tion, 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, Sl-83 ; or thoughts for them, 226, 336 339 Nalterer, J., on the languages of Ilrazil, 263 Negro, intelligence of, 13 ; Mr. Mivarl's usj of the term to illustrate the psycho- logy of predicati(Ui, 166, 235 Neuter insects, instincts of, 297-299 Nodier, on onomatopteia, 288; on meta- phor, 344 Noire, on ideas, 43 ; on the origin of speech, 288, 2S9, 379-381 ; or. '.he origin of pronouns, 302 ; on funda- mental 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 pionouns, 275 ; not differentiated in early forms of speech, 295 (7 .uy, ; oblicjue cases of, as atliibute-words, 306, 385 O Onomatopnria, in nursery language, 136, 244 ; in relation to ilie origin of speech, 282-293, 339 L\'DEX. -W) origin of pronouns, uai;e in general, 354 ; iectives, 306 ; on the ;, 307 ; on Chinese 317 ; on Aristotle's (Ireck grammar, 320, ;y proving that human jcileil from the abstract 334-336: on names ing concepts, 336, 337; metaphor, 344, 345 '■> of early names, 356 ; n of parts of speech, neral theory of evoUi- N to abstract and generic 7, 58, 70-78, 174. 273- not always necessary U-S3 ; or thoughts for 339 he languages of Urazil, e of, 13 ; Mr. Mivart's to illustrate the psycho- ion, 166, 235 aincts of, 297-299 topu'ia, 288 ; on meta- 43 ; on the origin o( I89, 379- 3«' : '"• *'^^ l>iins, 302 ; on fumla- \r, 344. 345 appropriately used by I52 ; early use of, by of earlier linguistic Irbs or pionouns, 275 ; in early forms of [,v/. ; oblique ca'-es of, N 306, 3^5 O liurscry language, 136, lo the origin of speech, Orang-outang, .S'(<- Apes ( »regon, climate and native languaces of, 262 I'alKontology. Sfc (leology Parrots, talking of, 12S-138; use of in- dicative signs by, 1 58; denotative anil eonnotivtivc ]io\vcrs of, 1 79-191, 222- 226 ; sta'cments made by, 1S9, 190 {'articular ideas. See Ideas 1 'arts of speech, differentiatiop of language into, 294-320, 339-342, 423 I'eckham, Mr. and Mrs., on memory in a spider, 207 I 'creep', ion, analogies between reason and, 32 ; constituted l)y fusions of sensations, 37 ; in relatitm toother mental faculties, 48 ; illusions of, 49 I'crcz on p'-ythogenesi- of the cliiM, 26, 41, 158, 210 rhilippine language. Sir l.anguage i'hilology. Stx Language Pickering on poverty of savage languages in abstract terms, 352 I'ictures recognized as jiortraits, iS:c., iiy infants, dogs, and monkeys, 188, 189 Pig taught to point game, 97 Poescher on 'he .Xryan race, 273 Pointing, ga wc by a pig, 97 ; uf set'ei- (logs, 97, 98 ; as the tirst stage of language, 157, 1 58 Polynesian languages. S,c Languages Polysynthetic. Sec Languages i'ony, sign-making by, 97 Pott, on the origin of speech, 240; on language- roots. 267 ; on names for thunder, 286 ; on fundamental meta- plior, 344 jdwers on the climate of Califiunia, 261 Ire-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 <•/ .<■,• I'ro.ioun, first personal, 201, 232, 301, 3^7 -3S9. 40^. 409 Pronouns and pronominal elements, 210, 275 ; nut dilTcrentiated in early forms of speech, 295 e/ sr/, ; origin of, in gestures, 301-304, 387, 421, 422 Projiosition. .S', 284 Romance languages. >Stv Languages Romanes, on teaching an ape to count, 58 ; on intelligence of cehus, 60, 61 ; on sign-making hy caterpillars, 95, 96 ; on pointing of sclter-dogs, 97, 98 ; on sign-making l)y other dogs, 100, 221 ; on infant intelligence, 122, 159, 160, 188, 189, 218-220, 2J2, 283, 324; on dogs and apes understanding words, 124-126; on talking birds, 129, 130; on ideation of tleaf-niutes, 149, 150 Kooks, intelligence of, 56, 57 Roots of language. Sec Language Sand with on poverty of savage languages in abstract terms, 352 .Sanskrit. .S'cV Language Sayce, rrofessor, on d inferences of degree and kind, 3 ; on terms as abbreviated judgments, 170; on the number of languages, 245 ; on the aftiuities be- tween languages, 250-259 ; on mono- syllabic origin of language, 268 ; on civilization of the Aryan race, 272 ; on antieiuity of the Aryan race, 273 ; on rarity of general terms in savage lan- guages, 280; on onomatop(eia, 286; on the clicks in the language of Hot tentots, etc., 291, 373, 374; on sen tence-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 (Ireek grammar, 321 ; on deficiency of savage languages in abstract terms, 352 ; on Noire'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 fornuilne of language-structure, 248 Scoll, Dr., on jisychology of idiots and deaf-mutes, 104, 105, 115, 116, 121 Scott, Sir Walter, on a dog understand ing words, 125 Self-consciousness, condition to intm spective 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 recejjtual and conceptual, 199, 200 ; growth of, in child, 200 212, 228, 229-234 Semitic. .SVv Languages Sensation in relation to perception ami reason, 37 ; and to other mental facul ties in general, 48 .Sentence an I of si>cccli, 240 Uion of lan«uat;c, lanji;uage-slruciurc, lology of icUols aivl J5, 115, iiO, 121 1 a ling umlerstaml conililion to inlM- 1 or ihoughl, 175 ' 175, 176 ; genesis of. phy ami psychology ractcr of, in man and 12 ; as inward and itual and conceptual, h of, in child, 200- \ uages on to perception and to other mental facid S .■nee words, 296 et soj ■ syntax of gesturedan ; of sense of, by man, ing. .S Sidlivan, Sir J., on taliiing l)ird>, 130 Sidly, J., on ideas, 40, 41 ; on illusions of |ierce[)tion, 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 gram- matical forms, 306, 315, 316 Syntax, of gesluredanguage, 107-120 ; of (lilTerent spoken languages, 246, 247 ; of gesture-language in relation lo that of early speech, 339-342, 3.S5 Syriac langu.ige. .SVi' Language Taine, on psychogenesis of the chilil, 26, 66, 67, iSo, 181 ; on abstract ideas, 31, 32 ; on self-consciousness, 212 Thought, distinguished from reason, 12 ; absent in brutes, 29, 30 ; de- jjcndent on language, 30, 31 ; si-iplest element of, 165, 174, 215, 216; ani- mistic, of primitive and savage man, 275 ; not necessary to naming, 226, Toads, understanding by, of tones of human voice, 124 Tone. Sec Language Tools, said to be only used by man, 19 ; names of, derived from activities re- (piiring only natural organs, 345-347 ; used by monkeys, 3S2 Threlkeld on language of savages, 349 Transposition. Sec Languages Tschudi, Baron von, on the Khetshua language, 262, 263 Turkish language. See Language Tylor, on sign-making by Indians and deaf-mutes, 105-^08, 113-117; on articulate sounds instinctively made t)y ileaf-mutes, 122 ; on ideation of deaf- mutes, 150 Varro on routs of Latin, 267 Verbs, appropriately used by parrots, 130, 152; substantive, 167, 308-312; early use of, by children, 219; earl) origin of, 274 ; not differentiated in early forms of speech, 295 ct ici]. . development of, 275. 307, 30S, 385. 3«^» Voice. Sec Language X'olition of man and t)rMtes compared, S W Waitz, Professor, on self-consciousne.'^M, 212 ; on the sentence .as the unit of Language, 296 Wall.ace, A. R.,(m intelligence of sav.age man in relation to his cerebral develop- ment, 15, 16 Ward on the descent of man, 365 Wasps, sign -making by, 8S-90 Watson on understanding of words by brutes, 125 Wedgwood, on roots of language, 268 ; on onomato])(eia, 288 Weslropp, II. M., 7 ; on civilization of the Aryan race, 272 ; on the growth of language, 290 ; on priority of words to sentences, i},}^, 334 ; on fundamental metaphor, 343 ; on the possibly speechless condition of primitive man, 369 Wildman on bees understanding ion<> 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 rela 45-^ j.v/)/-:\: tiuii to ljriiin\\Li^;lil, i6 ; on -elf- consciousness, 199, 206, 207, 212 Wiintlt, rrofessnr, on latent period in secintj and hearing, 146 ; on sdf-con- si iousncss, 197, 200, 201, 20S, 211, 212 ; on evolution of lanfjuage, 265 ; on the distinction iietwien iiieas as j^eneral and generic, 279, 280 ; on <)noniato[)(eia, 287, 291 ; on ol)jective ])iiraseolo|^y uf i>rirnitivc s|ie(''-li. 501 ; on ■-(■ntence-word'i, ,504 N'ouatt on a iiame, 97 ]iig lieiny tauglit tn poini Z /end language. .SVv Language Zoological alTinily l)ctween man and lirute, 19 vv I'KIN'IRll BV WILI.'AM H.OWES AND SONS, I.IMI'I El), LONDON AM) LECl l.E«. being taiij^lit l WEST MAIN ST REIT WEBSTER. N.Y. 14980 '7)«) 877 4103 4^ 4^^ 'iy^ ^ 4!s 5? . ^^ I Paternoster Square, LoaJon. A LIST OF KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 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