Progress in electrical science is daily causing the world to open its
eyes in wonder and the scientist to enlarge his hopes for yet greater
achievements. The practical uses to which this subtile fluid,
electricity, is being put are causing changes to be made in time-tested
methods of doing things in domestic, scientific, and business circles,
and the time has passed when startling propositions to accomplish this
or that by the assistance of electricity are dismissed with incredulous
smiles. This being the case, no surprise need follow the announcement of
a device to facilitate the imparting of instruction to deaf children
which calls into requisition some service from electricity.
The sense of touch is the direct medium contemplated, and it is intended
to convey, with accuracy and rapidity, messages from the operator (the
teacher) to the whole class simultaneously by electrical
transmission.[1]
[Footnote 1: By the same means two deaf-mutes, miles apart, might
converse with each other, and the greatest difficulty in the way of a
deaf-mute becoming a telegraph operator, that of receiving messages,
would be removed. The latter possibilities are incidentally mentioned
merely as of scientific interest, and not because of their immediate
practical value. The first mentioned use to which the device may be
applied is the one considered by the writer as possibly of practical
value, the consideration of which suggested the appliance to him.]
An alphabet is formed upon the palm of the left hand and the inner side
of the fingers, as shown by the accompanying cut, which, to those
becoming familiar with it, requires but a touch upon a certain point of
the hand to indicate a certain letter of the alphabet.
A rapid succession of touches upon various points of the hand is all
that is necessary in spelling a sentence. The left hand is the one upon
which the imaginary alphabet is formed, merely to leave the right hand
free to operate without change of position when two persons only are
conversing face to face.
The formation of the alphabet here figured is on the same principle as
one invented by George Dalgarno, a Scottish schoolmaster, in the year
1680, a cut of which maybe seen on page 19 of vol. ix. of the _Annals_,
accompanying the reprint of a work entitled "_Didascalocophus_."
Dalgarno's idea could only have been an alphabet to be used in
conversation between two persons _tête à tête_, and--except to a limited
extent in the Horace Mann School and in Professor Bell's teaching--has
not come into service in the instruction of deaf-mutes or as a means of
conversation. There seems to have been no special design or system in
the arrangement of the alphabet into groups of letters oftenest
appearing together, and in several instances the proximity would
seriously interfere with distinct spelling; for instance, the group "u,"
"y," "g," is formed upon the extreme joint of the little finger. The
slight discoverable system that seems to attach to his arrangement of
the letters is the placing of the vowels in order upon the points of the
fingers successively, beginning with the thumb, intended, as we suppose,
to be of mnemonic assistance to the learner. Such assistance is hardly
necessary, as a pupil will learn one arrangement about as rapidly as
another. If any arrangement has advantage over another, we consider it
the one which has so grouped the letters as to admit of an increased
rapidity of manipulation. The arrangement of the above alphabet, it is
believed, does admit of this. Yet it is not claimed that it is as
perfect as the test of actual use may yet make it. Improvements in the
arrangement will, doubtless, suggest themselves, when the alterations
can be made with little need of affecting the principle.
In order to transmit a message by this alphabet, the following described
appliance is suggested: A matrix of cast iron, or made of any suitable
material, into which the person receiving the message (the pupil) places
his left hand, palm down, is fixed to the table or desk. The matrix,
fitting the hand, has twenty-six holes in it, corresponding in position
to the points upon the hand assigned to the different letters of the
alphabet. In these holes are small styles, or sharp points, which are so
placed as but slightly to touch the hand. Connected with each style is a
short line of wire, the other end of which is connected with a principal
wire leading to the desk of the operator (the teacher), and there so
arranged as to admit of opening and closing the circuit of an electric
current at will by the simple touch of a button, and thereby producing
along the line of that particular wire simultaneous electric impulses,
intended to act mechanically upon all the styles connected with it. By
these impulses, produced by the will of the sender, the styles are
driven upward with a quick motion, but with only sufficient force to be
felt and located upon the hand by the recipient. Twenty-six of these
principal or primary wires are run from the teacher's desk (there
connected with as many buttons) under the floor along the line of
pupils' desks. From each matrix upon the desk run twenty-six secondary
wires down to and severally connecting with the twenty-six primary wires
under the floor. The whole system of wires is incased so as to be out of
sight and possibility of contact with foreign substances. The keys or
buttons upon the desk of the teacher are systematically arranged,
somewhat after the order of those of the type writer, which allows the
use of either one or both hands of the operator, and of the greatest
attainable speed in manipulation. The buttons are labeled "a," "b," "c,"
etc., to "z," and an electric current over the primary wire running from
a certain button (say the one labeled "a") affects only those secondary
wires connected with the styles that, when excited, produce upon the
particular spot of the hands of the receivers the tactile impression to
be interpreted as "a." And so, whenever the sender touches any of the
buttons on his desk, immediately each member of the class feels upon the
palm of his hand the impression meant to be conveyed. The contrivance
will admit of being operated with as great rapidity as it is probable
human dexterity could achieve, i.e., as the strokes of an electric bell.
It was first thought of conveying the impressions directly by slight
electric shocks, without the intervention of further mechanical
apparatus, but owing to a doubt as to the physical effect that might be
produced upon the persons receiving, and as to whether the nerves might
not in time become partly paralyzed or so inured to the effect as to
require a stronger and stronger current, that idea was abandoned, and
the one described adopted. A diagram of the apparatus was submitted to a
skillful electrical engineer and machinist of Hartford, who gave as his
opinion that the scheme was entirely feasible, and that a simple and
comparatively inexpensive mechanism would produce the desired result.
[Illustration: TOUCH TRANSMISSION BY ELECTRICITY.]
The matter now to consider, and the one of greater interest to the
teacher of deaf children, is, Of what utility can the device be in the
instruction of deaf-mutes? What advantage is there, not found in the
prevailing methods of communication with the deaf, i.e., by gestures,
dactylology, speech and speech-reading, and writing?
I. The language of gestures, first systematized and applied to the
conveying of ideas to the deaf by the Abbe de l'Epee during the latter
part of the last century, has been, in America, so developed and
improved upon by Gallaudet, Peet, and their successors, as to leave but
little else to be desired for the purpose for which it was intended. The
rapidity and ease with which ideas can be expressed and understood by
this "language" will never cease to be interesting and wonderful, and
its value to the deaf can never fail of being appreciated by those
familiar with it. But the genius of the language of signs is such as to
be in itself of very little, if any, direct assistance in the
acquisition of syntactical language, owing to the diversity in the order
of construction existing between the English language and the language
of signs. Sundry attempts have been made to enforce upon the
sign-language conformity to the English order, but they have, in all
cases known to the writer, been attended with failure. The sign-language
is as immovable as the English order, and in this instance certainly
Mahomet and the mountain will never know what it is to be in each
other's embrace. School exercises in language composition are given with
great success upon the basis of the sign-language. But in all such
exercises there must be a translation from one language to the other.
The desideratum still exists of an increased percentage of pupils
leaving our schools for the deaf, possessing a facility of expression in
English vernacular. This want has been long felt, and endeavoring to
find a reason for the confessedly low percentage, the sign-language has
been too often unjustly accused. It is only when the sign-language is
abused that its merit as a means of instruction degenerates. The most
ardent admirers of a proper use of signs are free to admit that any
excessive use by the pupils, which takes away all opportunities to
express themselves in English, is detrimental to rapid progress in
English expression.
II. To the general public, dactylology or finger spelling is the
sign-language, or the basis of that language, but to the profession
there is no relation between the two methods of communication.
Dactylology has the advantage of putting language before the eye in
conformity with English syntax, and it has always held its place as one
of the elements of the American or eclectic method. This advantage,
however, is not of so great importance as to outweigh the disadvantages
when, as has honestly been attempted, it asserts its independence of
other methods. Very few persons indeed, even after long practice, become
sufficiently skillful in spelling on the fingers to approximate the
rapidity of speech. But were it possible for all to become rapid
spellers, another very important requisite is necessary before the
system could be a perfect one, that is, the ability to _read_ rapid
spelling. The number of persons capable of reading the fingers beyond a
moderate degree of rapidity is still less than the number able to spell
rapidly. While it is physically possible to follow rapid spelling for
twenty or thirty minutes, it can scarcely be followed longer than that.
So long as this is true, dactylology can hardly claim to be more than
one of the _elements_ of a system of instruction for the deaf.
III. Articulate speech is another of the elements of the eclectic
method, employed with success inversely commensurate with the degree of
deficiency arising from deafness. Where the English order is already
fixed in his mind, and he has at an early period of life habitually used
it, there is comparatively little difficulty in instructing the deaf
child by speech, especially if he have a quick eye and bright intellect.
But the number so favored is a small percentage of the great body of
deaf-mutes whom we are called upon to educate. When it is used as a
_sole_ means of educating the deaf as a class its inability to stand
alone is as painfully evident as that of any of the other component
parts of the system. It would seem even less practicable than a sole
reliance upon dactylology would be, for there can be no doubt as to what
a word is if spelled slowly enough, and if its meaning has been learned.
This cannot be said of speech. Between many words there is not, when
uttered, the slightest visible distinction. Between a greater number of
others the distinction is so slight as to cause an exceedingly nervous
hesitation before a guess can be given. Too great an imposition is put
upon the eye to expect it to follow unaided the extremely circumscribed
gestures of the organs of speech visible in ordinary speaking. The ear
is perfection as an interpreter of speech to the brain. It cannot
correctly be said that it is _more_ than perfection. It is known that
the ear, in the interpretation of vocal sounds, is capable of
distinguishing as many as thirty-five sounds per second (and oftentimes
more), and to follow a speaker speaking at the rate of more than two
hundred words per minute. If this be perfection, can we expect the _eye_
of ordinary mortal to reach it? Is there wonder that the task is a
discouraging one for the deaf child?
But it has been asserted that while a large percentage (practically all)
of the deaf _can_, by a great amount of painstaking and practice, become
speech readers in some small degree, a relative degree of facility in
articulation is not nearly so attainable. As to the accuracy of this
view, the writer cannot venture an opinion. Judging from the average
congenital deaf-mute who has had special instruction in speech, it can
safely be asserted that their speech is laborious, and far, very far,
from being accurate enough for practical use beyond a limited number of
common expressions. This being the case, it is not surprising that as an
unaided means of instruction it cannot be a success, for English neither
understood when spoken, nor spoken by the pupil, cannot but remain a
foreign language, requiring to pass through some other form of
translation before it becomes intelligible.
There are the same obstacles in the use of the written or printed word
as have been mentioned in connection with dactylology, namely, lack of
rapidity in conveying impressions through the medium of the English
sentence.
I have thus hastily reviewed the several means which teachers generally
are employing to impart the use of English to deaf pupils, for the
purpose of showing a common difficulty. The many virtues of each have
been left unnoticed, as of no pertinence to this article.
The device suggested at the beginning of this paper, claiming to be
nothing more than a school room appliance intended to supplement the
existing means for giving a knowledge and practice of English to the
deaf, employs as its interpreter a different sense from the one
universally used. The sense of sight is the sole dependence of the deaf
child. Signs, dactylology, speech reading, and the written and printed
word are all dependent upon the eye for their value as educational
instruments. It is evident that of the two senses, sight and touch, if
but one could be employed, the choice of sight as the one best adapted
for the greatest number of purposes is an intelligent one; but, as the
choice is not limited, the question arises whether, in recognizing the
superior adaptability to our purpose of the one, we do not lose sight of
a possibly important, though secondary, function in the other. If sight
were all-sufficient, there would be no need of a combination. But it
cannot be maintained that such is the case. The plan by which we acquire
our vernacular is of divine, and not of human, origin, and the senses
designed for special purposes are not interchangeable without loss. The
theory that the loss of a certain sense is nearly, if not quite,
compensated for by increased acuteness of the remaining ones has been
exploded. Such a theory accuses, in substance, the Maker of creating
something needless, and is repugnant to the conceptions we have of the
Supreme Being. When one sense is absent, the remaining senses, in order
to equalize the loss, have imposed upon them an unusual amount of
activity, from which arises skill and dexterity, and by which the loss
of the other sense is in some measure alleviated, but not supplied. No
_additional_ power is given to the eye after the loss of the sense of
hearing other than it might have acquired with the same amount of
practice while both faculties were active. The fact, however, that the
senses, in performing their proper functions, are not overtaxed, and are
therefore, in cases of emergency, capable of being extended so as to
perform, in various degrees, additional service, is one of the wise
providences of God, and to this fact is due the possibility of whatever
of success is attained in the work of educating the deaf, as well as the
blind.
In the case of the blind, the sense of touch is called into increased
activity by the absence of the lost sense; while in the case of the
deaf, sight is asked to do this additional service. A blind person's
education is received principally through the _two_ senses of hearing
and touch. Neither of these faculties is so sensible to fatigue by
excessive use as is the sense of sight, and yet the eye has, in every
system of instruction applied to the deaf, been the sole medium. In no
case known to the writer, excepting in the celebrated case of Laura
Bridgman and a few others laboring under the double affliction of
deafness and blindness, has the sense of touch been employed as a means
of instruction.[1]
[Footnote 1: This article was written before Professor Bell had made his
interesting experiments with his "parents' class" of a touch alphabet,
to be used upon the pupil's shoulder in connection with the oral
teaching.--E.A.F.]
Not taking into account the large percentage of myopes among the deaf,
we believe there are other cogent reasons why, if found practicable, the
use of the sense of touch may become an important element in our
eclectic system of teaching. We should reckon it of considerable
importance if it were ascertained that a portion of the same work now
performed by the eye could be accomplished equally as well through
feeling, thereby relieving the eye of some of its onerous duties.
We see no good reason why such accomplishment may not be wrought. If,
perchance, it were discovered that a certain portion could be performed
in a more efficient manner, its value would thus be further enhanced.
In theory and practice, the teacher of language to the deaf, by whatever
method, endeavors to present to the eye of the child as many completed
sentences as are nominally addressed to the ear--having them "caught" by
the eye and reproduced with as frequent recurrence as is ordinarily done
by the child of normal faculties.
In our hasty review of the methods now in use we noted the inability to
approximate this desirable process as a common difficulty. The facility
now ordinarily attained in the manipulation of the type writer, and the
speed said to have been reached by Professor Bell and a private pupil of
his by the Dalgarno touch alphabet, when we consider the possibility of
a less complex mechanism in the one case and a more systematic grouping
of the alphabet in the other, would lead us to expect a more rapid means
of communication than is ordinarily acquired by dactylology, speech (by
the deaf), or writing. Then the ability to receive the communication
rapidly by the sense of feeling will be far greater. No part of the body
except the point of the tongue is as sensible to touch as the tips of
the fingers and the palm of the hand. Tactile discrimination is so acute
as to be able to interpret to the brain significant impressions produced
in very rapid succession. Added to this advantage is the greater one of
the absence of any more serious attendant physical or nervous strain
than is present when the utterances of speech fall upon the tympanum of
the ear. To sum up, then, the advantages of the device we find--
First. A more rapid means of communication with the deaf by syntactic
language, admitting of a greater amount of practice similar to that
received through the ear by normal children.
Second. Ability to receive this rapid communication for a longer
duration and without ocular strain.
Third. Perfect freedom of the eye to watch the expression on the
countenance of the sender.
Fourth. In articulation and speech-reading instruction, the power to
assist a class without distracting the attention of the eye from the
vocal organs of the teacher.
Fifth. Freedom of the right hand of the pupil to make instantaneous
reproduction in writing of the matter being received through the sense
of feeling, thereby opening the way for a valuable class exercise.
Sixth. The possible mental stimulus that accompanies the mastery of a
new language, and the consequent ability to receive known ideas through
a new medium.
Seventh. A fresh variety of class exercises made possible.
The writer firmly believes in the good that exists in all methods that
are, or are to be; in the interdependence rather than the independence
of all methods; and in all school-room appliances tending to supplement
or expedite the labors of the teacher, whether they are made of
materials delved from the earth or snatched from the clouds.