CHAPTER II

THE MUSCLES AND MOTOR POWERS IN GENERAL

Muscles as organs of the will, of character and even of thought--The

muscular virtues--Fundamental and accessory muscles and functions--The

development of the mind and of the upright position--Small

muscles as organs of thought--School lays too much stress upon

these--Chorea--vast numbers of automatic movements in children--Great

variety of spontaneous activities--Poise, control and spurtiness--Pen

and tongue wagging--Sedentary school life _vs_ free out-of-door

activities--Modern decay of muscles, especially in girls--Plasticity

of motor habits at puberty.

The muscles are by weight about forty-three per cent. of the average

adult male human body. They expend a large fraction of all the kinetic

energy of the adult body, which a recent estimate places as high as

one-fifth. The cortical centers for the voluntary muscles extend over

most of the lateral psychic zones of the brain, so that their culture

is brain building. In a sense they are organs of digestion, for which

function they play a very important rôle. Muscles are in a most

intimate and peculiar sense the organs of the will. They have built

all the roads, cities, and machines in the world, written all the

books, spoken all the words, and, in fact, done everything that man

has accomplished with matter. If they are undeveloped or grow relaxed

and flabby, the dreadful chasm between good intentions and their

execution is liable to appear and widen. Character might be in a sense

defined as a plexus of motor habits. To call conduct three-fourths of

life, with Matthew Arnold; to describe man as one-third intellect and

two-thirds will, with Schopenhauer; to urge that man is what he does

or that he is the sum of his movements, with F.W. Robertson; that

character is simply muscle habits, with Maudsley; that the age of art

is now slowly superseding the age of science, and that the artist will

drive out with the professor, with the anonymous author of "Rembrandt

als Erzicher";[1] that history is consciously willed movements, with

Bluntschli; or that we could form no conception of force or energy in

the world but for our own muscular effort; to hold that most thought

involves change of muscle tension as more or less integral to it--all

this shows how we have modified the antique Ciceronian conception

_vivere est cogitari_, [To live is to think] to _vivere est velle_,

[To live is to will] and gives us a new sense of the importance of

muscular development and regimen.[2]

Modern psychology thus sees in muscles organs of expression for all

efferent processes. Beyond all their demonstrable functions, every

change of attention and of psychic states generally plays upon them

unconsciously, modifying their tension in subtle ways so that they may

be called organs of thought and feeling as well as of will, in which

some now see the true Kantian thing-in-itself the real substance of

the world, in the anthropomorphism of force. Habits even determine the

deeper strata of belief; thought is repressed action; and deeds, not

words, are the language of complete men. The motor areas are closely

related and largely identical with the psychic, and muscle culture

develops brain-centers as nothing else yet demonstrably does. Muscles

are the vehicles of habituation, imitation, obedience, character, and

even of manners and customs. For the young, motor education is

cardinal, and is now coming to due recognition; and, for all,

education is incomplete without a motor side. Skill, endurance, and

perseverance may almost be called muscular virtues; and fatigue,

velleity, caprice, _ennui_, restlessness, lack of control and poise,

muscular faults.

To understand the momentous changes of motor functions that

characterize adolescence we must consider other than the measurable

aspects of the subject. Perhaps the best scale on which to measure all

normal growth of muscle structure and functions is found in the

progress from fundamental to accessory. The former designates the

muscles and movements of the trunk and large joints, neck, back, hips,

shoulders, knees, and elbows, sometimes called central, and which in

general man has in common with the higher and larger animals. Their

activities are few, mostly simultaneous, alternating and rhythmic, as

of the legs in walking, and predominate in hard-working men and women

with little culture or intelligence, and often in idiots. The latter

or accessory movements are those of the hand, tongue, face, and

articulatory organs, and these may be connected into a long and

greatly diversified series, as those used in writing, talking,

piano-playing. They are represented by smaller and more numerous

muscles, whose functions develop later in life and represent a higher

standpoint of evolution. These smaller muscles for finer movements

come into function later and are chiefly associated with psychic

activity, which plays upon them by incessantly changing their

tensions, if not causing actual movement. It is these that are so

liable to disorder in the many automatisms and choreic tics we see in

school children, especially if excited or fatigued. General paralysis

usually begins in the higher levels by breaking these down, so that

the first symptom of its insidious and never interrupted progress is

inability to execute the more exact and delicate movements of tongue

or hand, or both. Starting with the latest evolutionary level, it is a

devolution that may work downward till very many of the fundamental

activities are lost before death.

Nothing better illustrates this distinction than the difference

between the fore foot of animals and the human hand. The first begins

as a fin or paddle or is armed with a hoof, and is used solely for

locomotion. Some carnivora with claws use the fore limb also for

holding well as tearing, and others for digging. Arboreal life seems

to have almost created the simian hand and to have wrought a

revolution in the form and use of the forearm and its accessory

organs, the fingers. Apes and other tree-climbing creatures must not

only adjust their prehensile organ to a wide variety of distances and

sizes of branches, but must use the hands more or less freely for

picking, transporting, and eating fruit; and this has probably been a

prime factor in lifting man to the erect position, without which human

intelligence as we know it could have hardly been possible. "When we

attempt to measure the gap between man and the lower animals in terms

of the form of movement, the wonder is no less great than when we use

the term of mentality."[3] The degree of approximation to human

intelligence in anthropoid animals follows very closely the degree of

approximation to human movements.

The gradual acquirement of the erect position by the human infant

admirably repeats this long phylogenetic evolution.[4] At first the

limbs are of almost no use in locomotion, but the fundamental trunk

muscles with those that move the large joints are more or less

spasmodically active. Then comes creeping, with use of the hip

muscles, while all below the knee is useless, as also are the fingers.

Slowly the leg and foot are degraded to locomotion, slowly the great

toe becomes more limited in its action, the thumb increases in

flexibility and strength of opposition, and the fingers grow more

mobile and controllable. As the body slowly assumes the vertical

attitude, the form of the chest changes till its greatest diameter is

transverse instead of from front to back. The shoulder-blades are less

parallel than in quadrupeds, and spread out till they approximate the

same plane. This gives the arm freedom of movement laterally, so that

it can be rotated one hundred and eighty degrees in man as contrasted

to one hundred degrees in apes, thus giving man the command of almost

any point within a sphere of which the two arms are radii. The power

of grasping was partly developed from and partly added to the old

locomotor function of the fore limbs; the jerky aimless automatisms,

as well as the slow rhythmic flexion and extension of the fingers and

hand, movements which are perhaps survivals of arboreal or of even

earlier aquatic life, are coördinated; and the bilateral and

simultaneous rhythmic movements of the heavier muscles are

supplemented by the more finely adjusted and specialized activities

which as the end of the growth period is approached are determined

less by heredity and more by environment. In a sense, a child or a man

is the sum total of his movements or tendencies to move; and nature

and instinct chiefly determine the basal, and education the accessory

parts of our activities.

The entire accessory system is thus of vital importance for the

development of all of the arts of expression. These smaller muscles

might almost be called organs of thought. Their tension is modified

with the faintest change of soul, such as is seen in accent,

inflection, facial expressions, handwriting, and many forms of

so-called mind-reading, which, in fact, is always muscle-reading. The

day-laborer of low intelligence, with a practical vocabulary of not

over five hundred words, who can hardly move each of his fingers

without moving others or all of them, who can not move his brows or

corrugate his forehead at will, and whose inflection is very

monotonous, illustrates a condition of arrest or atrophy of this

later, finer, accessory system of muscles. On the other hand, the

child, precocious in any or all of these later respects, is very

liable to be undeveloped in the larger and more fundamental parts and

functions. The full unfoldment of each is, in fact, an inexorable

condition precedent for the normal development to full and abiding

maturity of the higher and more refined muscularity, just as

conversely the awkwardness and clumsiness of adolescence mark a

temporary loss of balance in the opposite direction. If this general

conception be correct, then nature does not finish the basis of her

pyramid in the way Ross, Mercier, and others have assumed, but lays a

part of the foundation and, after carrying it to an apex, normally

goes back and adds to the foundation to carry up the apex still higher

and, if prevented from so doing, expends her energy in building the

apex up at a sharper angle till instability results. School and

kindergarten often lay a disproportionate strain on the tiny accessory

muscles, weighing altogether but a few ounces, that wag the tongue,

move the pen, and do fine work requiring accuracy. But still at this

stage prolonged work requiring great accuracy is irksome and brings

dangers homologous to those caused by too much fine work in the

kindergarten before the first adjustment of large to small muscles,

which lasts until adolescence, is established. Then disproportion

between function and growth often causes symptoms of chorea. The chief

danger is arrest of the development and control of the smaller

muscles. Many occupations and forms of athletics, on the contrary,

place the stress mainly upon groups of fundamental muscles to the

neglect of finer motor possibilities. Some who excel in heavy

athletics no doubt coarsen their motor reactions, become not only

inexact and heavy but unresponsive to finer stimuli, as if the large

muscles were hypertrophied and the small ones arrested. On the other

hand, many young men, and probably more young women, expend too little

of their available active energy upon basal and massive muscle work,

and cultivate too much, and above all too early, the delicate

responsive work. This is, perhaps, the best physiological

characterization of precocity and issues in excessive nervous and

muscular irritability. The great influx of muscular vigor that unfolds

during adolescent years and which was originally not only necessary to

successful propagation, but expressive of virility, seems to be a very

plastic quantity, so that motor regimen and exercise at this stage is

probably more important and all-conditioning for mentality, sexuality,

and health than at any other period of life. Intensity, and for a time

a spurty diathesis, is as instinctive and desirable as are the copious

minor automatisms which spontaneously give the alphabet out of which

complex and finer motor series are later spelled by the conscious

will. Mercier and others have pointed out that, as most skilled labor,

so school work and modern activities in civilized life generally lay

premature and disproportionate strains upon those kinds of movement

requiring exactness. Stress upon basal movements is not only

compensating but is of higher therapeutic value against the disorders

of the accessory system; it constitutes the best core or prophylactic

for fidgets and tense states, and directly develops poise, control,

and psycho-physical equilibrium. Even when contractions reach choreic

intensity the best treatment is to throw activities down the scale

that measures the difference between primary and secondary movements

and to make the former predominate.

The number of movements, the frequency with which they are repeated,

their diversity, the number of combinations, and their total kinetic

quantum in young children, whether we consider movements of the body

as a whole, fundamental movements of large limbs, or finer accessory

motions, is amazing. Nearly every external stimulus is answered by a

motor response. Dresslar[5] observed a thirteen months' old baby for

four hours, and found, to follow Preyer's classification, impulsive or

spontaneous, reflex, instinctive, imitative, inhibitive, expressive,

and even deliberative movements, with marked satisfaction in rhythm,

attempts to do almost anything which appealed to him, and almost

inexhaustible efferent resources. A friend has tried to record every

word uttered by a four-year-old girl during a portion of a day, and

finds nothing less than verbigerations. A teacher noted the activities

of a fourteen-year-old boy during the study time of a single school

day[6], with similar results.

Lindley[7] studied 897 common motor automatisms in children, which he

divided into 92 classes: 45 in the region of the head, 20 in the feet

and legs, 19 in the hands and fingers. Arranged in the order of

frequency with which each was found, the list stood as follows:

fingers, feet, lips, tongue, head, body, hands, mouth, eyes, jaws,

legs, forehead, face, arms, ears. In the last five alone adolescents

exceeded children, the latter excelling the former most in those of

head, mouth, legs, and tongue, in this order. The writer believes that

there are many more automatisms than appeared in his returns.

School life, especially in the lower grades, is a rich field for the

study of these activities. They are familiar, as licking things,

clicking with the tongue, grinding the teeth, scratching, tapping,

twirling a lock of hair or chewing it, biting the nails (Bérillon's

onychophagia), shrugging, corrugating, pulling buttons or twisting

garments, strings, etc., twirling pencils, thumbs, rotating, nodding

and shaking the head, squinting and winking, swaying, pouting and

grimacing, scraping the floor, rubbing hands, stroking, patting,

flicking the fingers, wagging, snapping the fingers, muffling,

squinting, picking the face, interlacing the fingers, cracking the

joints, finger plays, biting and nibbling, trotting the leg, sucking

things, etc.

The average number of automatisms per 100 persons Smith found to be in

children 176, in adolescents 110. Swaying is chiefly with children;

playing and drumming with the fingers is more common among

adolescents; the movements of fingers and feet decline little with

age, and those of eyes and forehead increase, which is significant for

the development of attention. Girls excel greatly in swaying, and

also, although less, in finger automatism; and boys lead in movements

of tongue, feet, and hands. Such movements increase, with too much

sitting, intensity of effort, such as to fix attention, and vary with

the nature of the activity willed, but involve few muscles directly

used in a given task. They increase up the kindergarten grades and

fall off rapidly in the primary grades; are greater with tasks

requiring fine and exact movements than with those involving large

movements. Automatisms are often a sign of the difficulty of tasks.

The restlessness that they often express is one of the commonest signs

of fatigue. They are mostly in the accessory muscles, while those of

the fundamental muscles (body, legs, and arms) disappear rapidly with

age; those of eye, brow, and jaw show greatest increase with age, but

their frequency in general declines with growing maturity, although

there is increased frequency of certain specialized contractions,

which indicate the gradual settling of expression in the face.

Often such movements pass over by insensible gradation into the morbid

automatism of chorea, and in yet lower levels of decay we see them in

the aimless picking and plucking movements of the fingers of the sick.

In idiots[8] arrest of higher powers often goes with hypertrophy of

these movements, as seen in head-beaters (as if, just as nature impels

those partially blind to rub the eyes for "light-hunger," so it

prompts the feeble-minded to strike the head for cerebrations),

rockers, rackers, shakers, biters, etc. Movements often pass to fixed

attitudes and postures of limbs or body, disturbing the normal balance

between flexors and extensors, the significance of which as nerve

signs or exponents of habitual brain states and tensions Warner has so

admirably shown.

Abundance and vigor of automatic movements are desirable, and even a

considerable degree of restlessness is a good sign in young children.

Many of what are now often called nerve signs and even choreic

symptoms, the fidgetiness in school on cloudy days and often after a

vacation, the motor superfluities of awkwardness, embarrassment,

extreme effort, excitement, fatigue, sleepiness, etc., are simply the

forms in which we receive the full momentum of heredity and mark a

natural richness of the raw material of intellect, feeling, and

especially of will. Hence they must be abundant. All parts should act

in all possible ways at first and untrammeled by the activity of all

other parts and functions. Some of these activities are more essential

for growth in size than are later and more conscious movements. Here

as everywhere the rule holds that powers themselves must be unfolded

before the ability to check or even to use them can develop. All

movements arising from spontaneous activity of nerve cells or centers

must be made in order even to avoid the atrophy of disease. Not only

so, but this purer kind of innateness must often be helped out to some

extent in some children by stimulating reflexes; a rich and wide

repertory of sensation must be made familiar; more or less and very

guarded, watched and limited experiences of hunger, thirst, cold,

heat, tastes, sounds, smells, colors, brightnesses, tactile

irritations, and perhaps even occasional tickling and pain to play off

the vastly complex function of laughing, crying, etc., may in some

cases be judicious. Conscious and unconscious imitation or repetition

of every sort of copy may also help to establish the immediate and

low-level connection between afferent and efferent processes that

brings the organism into direct _rapport_ and harmony with the whole

world of sense. Perhaps the more rankly and independently they are

developed to full functional integrity, each in its season, if we only

knew that season, the better. Premature control by higher centers, or

coördination into higher compounds of habits and ordered serial

activities, is repressive and wasteful, and the mature will of which

they are components, or which must at least domesticate them, is

stronger and more forcible if this serial stage is not unduly

abridged.

But, secondly, many, if not most, of these activities when developed a

little, group after group, as they arise, must be controlled, checked,

and organized into higher and often more serial compounds. The

inhibiting functions are at first hard. In trying to sit still the

child sets its teeth, holds the breath, clenches its fists and perhaps

makes every muscle tense with a great effort that very soon exhausts.

This repressive function is probably not worked from special nervous

centers, nor can we speak with confidence of collisions with "sums of

arrest" in a sense analogous to that of Herbart, or of stimuli that

normally cause catabolic molecular processes in the cell, being

mysteriously diverted to produce increased instability or anabolic

lability in the sense of Wundt's _Mechanik der Nerven_. The concept

now suggested by many facts is that inhibition is irradiation or long

circuiting to higher and more complex brain areas, so that the energy,

whether spontaneous or reflex, is diverted to be used elsewhere. These

combinations are of a higher order, more remote from reflex action,

and modified by some Jacksonian third level.[9] Action is now not from

independent centers, but these are slowly associated, so that

excitation may flow off from one point to any other and any reaction

may result from any stimulus.

The more unified the brain the less it suffers from localization, and

the lower is the level to which any one function can exhaust the

whole. The tendency of each group of cells to discharge or overflow

into those of lower tension than themselves increases as

correspondence in time and space widens. The more one of a number of

activities gains in power to draw on all the brain, or the more

readily the active parts are fed at cost of the resting parts, the

less is rest to be found in change from one of these activities to

another, and the less do concentration and specialization prove to be

dangerous. Before, the aim was to wake all parts to function; now it

is to connect them. Intensity of this cross-section activity now tends

to unity, so that all parts of the brain energize together. In a brain

with this switchboard function well organized, each reaction has grown

independent of its own stimulus and may result from any stimulation,

and each act, e.g., a finger movement of a peculiar nature, may tire

the whole brain. This helps us to understand why brain-workers so

often excel laborers not only in sudden dynamometric strength test,

but in sustained and long-enduring effort. In a good brain or in a

good machine, power may thus be developed over a large surface, and

all of it applied to a small one, and hence the dangers of

specialization are lessened in exact proportion as the elements of our

ego are thus compacted together. It is in the variety and delicacy of

these combinations and all that they imply, far more than in the

elements of which they are composed, that man rises farthest above the

higher animals; and of these powers later adolescence is the golden

age. The aimless and archaic movements of infancy, whether massive and

complex or in the form of isolated automatic tweaks or twinges, are

thus, by slow processes of combined analysis and synthesis, involving

changes as radical as any in all the world of growth, made over into

habits and conduct that fit the world of present environment.

But, thirdly, this long process carried out with all degrees of

completeness may be arrested at any unfinished stage. Some automatisms

refuse to be controlled by the will, and both they and it are often

overworked. Here we must distinguish constantly between (1) those

growing rankly in order to be later organized under the will, and (2)

those that have become feral after this domestication of them has lost

power from disease or fatigue, and (3) those that have never been

subjugated because the central power that should have used them to

weave the texture of willed action--the proper language of complete

manhood--was itself arrested or degenerate. With regard to many of

these movements these distinctions can be made with confidence, and in

some children more certainly than in others. In childhood, before

twelve, the efferent patterns should be developed into many more or

less indelible habits, and their colors set fast. Motor specialties

requiring exactness and grace like piano-playing, drawing, writing,

pronunciation of a foreign tongue, dancing, acting, singing, and a

host of virtuosities, must be well begun before the relative arrest of

accessory growth at the dawn of the ephebic regeneration and before

its great afflux of strength. The facts seem to show that children of

this age, such as Hancock[10] described, who could not stand with feet

close together and eyes closed without swaying much, could not walk

backward, sit still half a minute, dress alone, tie two ends of a

string together, interlace slats, wind thread, spin a top, stand on

toes or heels, hop on each foot, drive a nail, roll a hoop, skate, hit

fingers together rapidly in succession beginning at the little finger

and then reversing, etc., are the very ones in whom automatisms are

most marked or else they are those constitutionally inert, dull, or

uneducable.

In children these motor residua may persist as characteristic features

of inflection, accent, or manners; automatisms may become morbid in

stammering or stuttering, or they may be seen in gait, handwriting,

tics or tweaks, etc. Instead of disappearing with age, as they should,

they are seen in the blind as facial grimaces uncorrected by the

mirror or facial consciousness, in the deaf as inarticulate noises;

and they may tend to grow monstrous with age as if they were

disintegrated fragments of our personality, split off and aborted, or

motor parasites leaving our psycho-physic ego poorer in energy and

plasticity of adaptation, till the distraction and anarchy of the

individual nature becomes conspicuous and pathetic.

At puberty, however, when muscle habits are so plastic, when there is

a new relation between quantity or volume of motor energy and

qualitative differentiation, and between volitional control and reflex

activities, these kinetic remnants strongly tend to shoot together

into wrong aggregates if right ones are not formed. Good manners and

correct motor form generally, as well as skill, are the most economic

ways of doing things; but this is the age of wasteful ways,

awkwardness mannerisms, tensions that are a constant leakage of vital

energy, perhaps semi-imperative acts, contortions, quaint movements,

more elaborated than in childhood and often highly anesthetic and

disagreeable, motor coördinations that will need laborious

decomposition later. The avoidable factor in their causation is, with

some modification, not unlike that of the simpler feral movements and

faulty attitudes, carriage, and postures in children; viz., some form

of overpressure or misfit between environment and nature. As during

the years from four to eight there is great danger that overemphasis

of the activities of the accessory muscles will sow the seeds of

chorea, or aggravate predispositions to it, now again comes a greatly

increased danger, hardly existing from eight to twelve, that

overprecision, especially if fundamental activities are neglected,

will bring nervous strain and stunting precocity. This is again the

age of the basal, e.g., hill-climbing muscle, of leg and back and

shoulder work, and of the yet more fundamental heart, lung, and chest

muscles. Now again, the study of a book, under the usual conditions of

sitting in a closed space and using pen, tongue, and eye combined, has

a tendency to overstimulate the accessory muscles. This is especially

harmful for city children who are too prone to the distraction of

overmobility at an age especially exposed to maladjustment of motor

income and expenditure; and it constitutes not a liberal or

power-generating, but a highly and prematurely specialized, narrowing,

and weakening education unless offset by safeguards better than any

system of gymnastics, which is at best artificial and exaggerated.

As Bryan well says, "The efficiency of a machine depends so far as we

know upon the maximum force, rate, amplitude, and variety of direction

of its movements and upon the exactness with which below these maxima

the force, rate, amplitude, and direction of the movements can be

controlled." The motor efficiency of a man depends upon his ability in

all these respects. Moreover, the education of the small muscles and

fine adjustments of larger ones is as near mental training as physical

culture can get; for these are the thought-muscles and movements, and

their perfected function is to reflect and express by slight

modifications of tension and tone every psychic change. Only the brain

itself is more closely and immediately an organ of thought than are

these muscles and their activity, reflex, spontaneous, or imitative in

origin. Whether any of them are of value, as Lindley thinks, in

arousing the brain to activity, or as Müller suggests, in drawing off

sensations or venting efferent impulses that would otherwise distract,

we need not here discuss. If so, this is, of course, a secondary and

late function--nature's way of making the best of things and utilizing

remnants.

With these facts and their implications in mind we can next pass to

consider the conditions under which the adolescent muscles best

develop. Here we confront one of the greatest and most difficult

problems of our age. Changes in modern motor life have been so vast

and sudden as to present some of the most comprehensive and

all-conditioning dangers that threaten civilized races. Not only have

the forms of labor been radically changed within a generation or two,

but the basal activities that shaped the body of primitive man have

been suddenly swept away by the new methods of modern industry. Even

popular sports, games, and recreations, so abundant in the early life

of all progressive peoples, have been reduced and transformed; and the

play age, that once extended on to middle life and often old age, has

been restricted. Sedentary life in schools and offices, as we have

seen, is reducing the vigor and size of our lower limbs. Our industry

is no longer under hygienic conditions; and instead of being out of

doors, in the country, or of highly diversified kinds, it is now

specialized, monotonous, carried on in closed spaces, bad air, and

perhaps poor light, especially in cities. The diseases and arrest bred

in the young by life in shops, offices, factories, and schools

increase. Work is rigidly bound to fixed hours, uniform standards,

stints and piece-products; and instead of a finished article, each

individual now achieves a part of a single process and knows little of

those that precede or follow. Machinery has relieved the large basal

muscles and laid more stress upon fine and exact movements that

involve nerve strain. The coarser forms of work that involve hard

lifting, carrying, digging, etc., are themselves specialized, and

skilled labor requires more and more brain-work. It has been estimated

that "the diminution of manual labor required to do a given quantity

of work in 1884 as compared with 1870 is no less than 70 per

cent."[11] Personal interest in and the old native sense of

responsibility for results, ownership and use of the finished

products, which have been the inspiration and soul of work in all the

past, are in more and more fields gone. Those who realize how small a

proportion of the young male population train or even engage in

amateur sports with zest and regularity, how very few and picked men

strive for records, and how immediate and amazing are the results of

judicious training, can best understand how far below his

possibilities as a motor being the average modern man goes through

life, and how far short in this respect he falls from fulfilling

nature's design for him.

For unnumbered generations primitive man in the nomad age wandered,

made perhaps annual migrations, and bore heavy burdens, while we ride

relatively unencumbered. He tilled the reluctant soil, digging with

rude implements where we use machines of many man-power. In the stone,

iron, and bronze age, he shaped stone and metals, and wrought with

infinite pains and effort, products that we buy without even knowledge

of the processes by which they are made. As hunter he followed game,

which, when found, he chased, fought, and overcame in a struggle

perhaps desperate, while we shoot it at a distance with little risk or

effort. In warfare he fought hand to hand and eye to eye, while we

kill "with as much black powder as can be put in a woman's thimble."

He caught and domesticated scores of species of wild animals and

taught them to serve him; fished with patience and skill that

compensated his crude tools, weapons, implements, and tackle; danced

to exhaustion in the service of his gods or in memory of his forebears

imitating every animal, rehearsing all his own activities in mimic

form to the point of exhaustion, while we move through a few figures

in closed spaces. He dressed hides, wove baskets which we can not

reproduce, and fabrics which we only poorly imitate by machinery, made

pottery which set our fashions, played games that invigorated body and

soul. His courtship was with feats of prowess and skill, and meant

physical effort and endurance.

Adolescent girls, especially in the middle classes, in upper grammar

and high school grades, during the golden age for nascent muscular

development, suffer perhaps most of all in this respect. Grave as are

the evils of child labor, I believe far more pubescents in this

country now suffer from too little than from too much physical

exercise, while most who suffer from work do so because it is too

uniform, one-sided, accessory, or performed under unwholesome

conditions, and not because it is excessive in amount. Modern industry

has thus largely ceased to be a means of physical development and

needs to be offset by compensating modes of activity. Many

labor-saving devices increase neural strain, so that one of the

problems of our time is how to preserve and restore nerve energy.

Under present industrial systems this must grow worse and not better

in the future. Healthy natural industries will be less and less open

to the young. This is the new situation that now confronts those

concerned for motor education, if they would only make good what is

lost.

Some of the results of these conditions are seen in average

measurements of dimensions, proportions, strength, skill, and control.

Despite the excellence of the few, the testimony of those most

familiar with the bodies of children and adults, and their physical

powers, gives evidence of the ravages of modern modes of life that,

without a wide-spread motor revival, can bode only degeneration for

our nation and our race. The number of common things that can not be

done at all; the large proportion of our youth who must be exempted

from any kinds of activity or a great amount of any; the thin limbs,

collapsed shoulders or chests, the bilateral asymmetry, weak hearts,

lungs, eyes, puny and bad muddy or pallid complexions, tired ways,

automatism, dyspeptic stomachs, the effects of youthful error or of

impoverished heredity, delicate and tender nurture, often, alas, only

too necessary, show the lamentable and cumulative effects of long

neglect of the motor abilities, the most educable of all man's powers,

and perhaps the most important for his well-being. If the unfaithful

stewards of these puny and shameful bodies had again, as in Sparta, to

strip and stand before stern judges and render them account, and be

smitten with a conviction of their weakness, guilty deformity, and

arrest of growth; if they were brought to realize how they are fallen

beings, as weak as stern theologians once deemed them depraved, and

how great their need of physical salvation, we might hope again for a

physical renaissance. Such a rebirth the world has seen but twice or

perhaps thrice, and each was followed by the two or three of the

brightest culture periods of history, and formed an epoch in the

advancement of the kingdom of man. A vast body of evidence could be

collected from the writings of anthropologists showing how superior

unspoiled savages are to civilized man in correct or esthetic

proportions of body, in many forms of endurance of fatigue, hardship,

and power to bear exposure, in the development and preservation of

teeth and hair, in keenness of senses, absence of deformities, as well

as immunity to many of our diseases. Their women are stronger and bear

hardship and exposure, monthly periods and childbirth, better.

Civilization is so hard on the body that some have called it a

disease, despite the arts that keep puny bodies alive to a greater

average age, and our greater protection from contagious and germ

diseases.

The progressive realization of these tendencies has prompted most of

the best recent and great changes motor-ward in education and also in

personal regimen. Health- and strength-giving agencies have put to

school the large motor areas of the brain, so long neglected, and have

vastly enlarged their scope. Thousands of youth are now inspired with

new enthusiasm for physical development; and new institutions of many

kinds and grades have arisen, with a voluminous literature, unnumbered

specialists, specialties, new apparatus, tests, movements, methods,

and theories; and the press, the public, and the church are awakened

to a fresh interest in the body and its powers. All this is

magnificent, but sadly inadequate to cope with the new needs and

dangers, which are vastly greater.

[Footnote 1: Dieterich. Göttingen, 1886.]

[Footnote 2: See Chap. xii.]

[Footnote 3: F. Burk in From Fundamental to Accessory. Pedagogical

Seminary, Oct., 1898, vol. 6, pp. 5-64.]

[Footnote 4: Creeping and Walking, by A.W. Trettien. American Journal

of Psychology, October, 1900, vol. 12, pp. 1-57.]

[Footnote 5: A Morning Observation of a Baby. Pedagogical Seminary,

December 1901, vol. 8, pp. 469-481.]

[Footnote 6: Kate Carman. Notes on School Activity. Pedagogical

Seminary, March, 1902, vol. 9, pp. 106-117.]

[Footnote 7: A Preliminary Study of Some of the Motor Phenomena of

Mental Effort. American Journal of Psychology, July, 1896, vol. 7, pp.

491-517.]

[Footnote 8: G.E. Johnson. Psychology and Pegagogy of Feeble-Minded

Children. Pedagogical Seminary, October, 1895, vol. 3, pp. 246-301.]

[Footnote 9: Dr. Hughlings Jackson, the eminent English pathologist,

was the first to make practical application of the evolutionary theory

of the nervous system to the diagnosis and treatment of epilepsies and

mental diseases. The practical success of this application was so

great that the Hughlings-Jackson "three-level theory" is now the

established basis of English diagnosis. He conceived the nervous

mechanism as composed of three systems, arranged in the form of a

hierarchy, the higher including the lower, and yet each having a

certain degree of independence. The first level represents the type of

simplest reflex and involuntary movement and is localized in the gray

matter of the spinal cord, medulla, and pons. The second, or middle

level, comprises those structures which receive sensory impulses from

the cells of the lowest level instead of directly from the periphery

or the non-nervous tissues. The motor cells of this middle level also

discharge into the motor mechanisms of the lowest level. Jackson

located these middle level structures in the cortex of the central

convolutions, the basal ganglia and the centers of the special senses

in the cortex. The highest level bears the same relation to the middle

level that it bears to the lowest i.e., no continuous connection

between the highest and the lowest is assumed; the structures of the

middle level mediate between them as a system of relays. According to

this hierarchical arrangement of the nervous system, the lowest level

which is the simplest and oldest "contains the mechanism for the

simple fundamental movements in reflexes and involuntary reactions.

The second level regroups these simple movements by combinations and

associations of cortical structure in wider, more complex mechanisms,

producing a higher class of movements. The highest level unifies the

whole nervous system and, according to Jackson, is the anatomical

basis of mind."

For a fuller account of this theory see Burk: From Fundamental to

Accessory in the Nervous System and of Movements. Pedagogical

Seminary, October, 1898, vol. 6, pp. 17-23.]

[Footnote 10: A Preliminary Study of Some of the Motor Phenomena of

Mental Effort. American Journal of Psychology, July, 1896, vol. 7, pp.

491-517.]

[Footnote 11: Encyclopedia of Social Reform, Funk and Wagnalls, 1896,

p. 1095]

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Youth: Its Education, Regimen, and Hygiene · 第 2 / 14 章