After that, Professor Romanes returns once more to his statement that

the roots of Aryan speech are not the aboriginal elements of language,

as first spoken by man. Why deny what has never been asserted? I know

nothing of the language as first spoken by man. I say with Steinthal,

'Who was present when the first sound of language burst forth from the

breast of the first man, as yet dumb?' All that we, the students of

language, undertake to do is to take language as we find it, to analyse

it, and to reduce it to its simplest component elements. What we cannot

analyse, we leave alone. The utmost we venture to do is to suggest

an hypothesis as to the possible origin of these elements. Of the

_Homo alalus_, the speechless progenitor of _Homo sapiens_, with whom

Professor Romanes seems so intimately acquainted, students of human

speech naturally know nothing. Professor Romanes assures us (p. 211)

that the reducing of language to a certain small number of roots, and

the fact that all the roots of language are expressive of general and

generic ideas, yield no support whatever to the doctrine either, that

these roots were themselves the aboriginal elements of language, or, _a

fortiori_, that the aboriginal elements of language were expressive of

general ideas. He evidently does not see that we are speaking of two

quite different things. I am speaking of the facts of language, he is

speaking of the postulates of a biological theory which may be right or

wrong, but which certainly derives no support whatever from the Science

of Language. If, like Professor Romanes, we begin with the 'immense

presumption that there has been no interruption in the developmental

process in the course of psychological history,' the protest of

language counts for nothing; the very fact that no animal has ever

formed a language, is put aside simply as an unfortunate accident. But

to students to whom facts are facts, immense presumptions count for

nothing: on the contrary they are looked upon as the most dangerous

merchandise and most likely to lead to shipwreck and ruin.

Instead of closing with these facts, Professor Romanes tries to show

that those who try to explain them are not always consistent. That may

be so, and I should be sorry indeed if my latest views were not more

advanced and more correct than those which I expressed forty years ago.

But very often where Professor Romanes sees inconsistency, there is

none at all.

Speaking of roots in my "Science of Thought," I said: 'Although during

the time when the growth of language becomes historical and most

accessible, therefore, to our observation, the tendency certainly is

from the general to the special, I cannot resist the conviction that

before that time there was a pre-historic period during which language

followed an opposite direction. During that period, roots beginning

with special meanings, (though, of course, always general in character)

became more and more generalised, and it was only after reaching that

stage, that they branched off again into special channels.'

The observation which I recorded in these words, was simply this, that

a root meaning originally to yawn, may in time assume the meaning of

opening, while during a latter period, a root meaning to open, may come

to be used in the more special sense of yawning. Facts are there to

prove this. But whether a root expresses the act of yawning or opening,

it remains general and conceptual in either case, though the intension

of the concept may be smaller or larger. Where Professor Romanes sees

inconsistency, he only shows that he has not apprehended the drift of

my remarks.

When all the facts of real language are against him, Professor Romanes

betakes himself to baby-language. Here he is safe, and he knows quite

well, why I refuse to argue with him or any other philosopher either

in the nursery, or in the menagerie, either about Mamma and Papa, or

about 'Poor Polly.' But if all he wants is to prove the possibility

of onomatopœia, he could have found much ampler evidence in my own

laboratory, only with this restriction that, after we have analysed

these onomatopœic words which in some languages are far more numerous

than even Professor Romanes seems to be aware of, we are only on the

threshold of the real problem, namely how to deal with real language,

that is, with those conceptual words which _cannot_ be traced back to

natural sounds or interjections.

Professor Romanes appeals to philology in support of his theory, and,

to use a favorite phrase of his own, to philology let him go! It was

long considered an irrefragable proof in support of the onomatopœic

theory that _thunder_ was called _thunder_. People imagined they heard

the rumbling noise of the clouds echoed in the sound of thunder.

However, the word was taken to pieces by comparative philologists,

_thunder_ was found out to be closely connected with the Latin

_tonitru_ and the Sanskrit _tanyatu_, and there could be no doubt that

these words were all derived from the root TAN, to stretch, from which

the Greek τόνος, stretching, tension, and tone. Thunder, therefore,

was clearly shown to owe its origin to this root TAN, in which there

is very little trace of distant rumble. But what does Professor

Romanes do? He appeals in his distress to Archdeacon Farrar, who is

reported to have said that the word _thunder_, even if not originally

onomatopœic, became so from a feeling of the need that it should be!

Now, this fairly takes away one's breath, and I cannot believe that

Professor Romanes could have used this argument seriously. He begins

by maintaining that words are formed by imitation of natural sounds.

He quotes _thunder_ as a case in point. He is told by comparative

philologists that thunder is derived from a root TAN, to stretch. He

does not attempt to deny this, but he appeals to Archdeacon Farrar, who

says that the word became afterwards onomatopœic, from a feeling of the

need that it should be so. If that is not shirking the question, I do

not know what is. Suppose it were true that thunder had been supposed

to be an imitation of a rumbling noise by those who, like Professor

Romanes, are convinced that all words must be more or less onomatopœic.

What in all the world has that to do with the real origin of the word?

We want to know how the word thunder came to be, and we are told, if

it was not onomatopœic, it ought to have been so, nay that by certain

ignorant people it was supposed to be so. This goes beyond the limits

of what is allowed in any serious discussion.

But Professor Romanes attempts a still greater triumph in forensic

adroitness, when he suddenly turns round and declares himself

altogether convinced by the theory proposed by Noiré and myself, though

at the same time placing it on a level with the Bow-wow and Pooh-pooh

theories. Now the fact is, that both Noiré and myself have been most

anxious to show the fundamental difference between these two exploded

theories and our own. The theory which I, for clearness' sake, was

quite willing to call the _Yo-he-ho_ theory, is the very opposite of

what Noiré called the _Synergastic_ theory. Those who appeal to words

like _thunder_ as derived from the rumbling sound in the clouds,

without any conceptual root standing between our conceptual word

_thunder_ and these unconceptual noises, hold the Bow-wow theory. Those

who hold that _fiend_ is derived direct from the interjection _fie_,

without any conceptual root standing between the unconceptual _fie_ and

the conceptual word _fiend_, hold the Pooh-pooh theory. Those who would

derive _to heave_ and _to hoist_ from sounds like _Yo-he-ho_ would hold

what may be called the _Yo-he-ho_ theory. I have never denied that

there are some words in every language which may be so explained.

But what similarity is there between these theories and our own? We

begin with the fact that the great bulk of a language consists of

words, derived, according to the strictest rules, not from cries, but

from articulate roots. No one denies this. We follow this up with

a second fact, that nearly all these roots express acts of men. No

one denies that. We then propound an hypothesis that possibly the

phonetic elements of these roots may be the remnants of utterances

such as even now sailors make when rowing, soldiers when marching,

builders in pulling and lifting, and that as expressing originally

the consciousness of such repeated acts, performed in common, these

roots would fulfil what is wanted, they would express conceptual

thought, such as beating, cutting, rubbing, binding, and all the other

121 concepts from which, as a matter of fact, all the words that

fill our dictionaries have been derived. Those who cannot see the

difference between a man, or, for all that, between a mocking bird,

saying _Cuckoo_, and a whole community fixing on the sound of TAN, as

differentiated by various suffixes and prefixes, and expressing the

concept of stretching in such words as _tonos_, _tone_, _tonitru_,

_thunder_, _tanu_, _tenuis_, _thin_, should not meddle with the Science

of Language.

Observations, for instance, on the language of children, or on what I

call Nursery psychology, are very interesting and may be useful for

other purposes. But what have they to do with the problem of the origin

of language? The two problems, how a child learns to speak English, and

how language was elaborated for the first time, are as remote from each

other as the two poles. The one is perfectly clear, though it may vary

in different children. No child makes its language, it simply accepts

what has been made. What _we_ are concerned with is, how each word was

originally made, how the first impulse to speech was given, what were

the rough materials out of which words were shaped, how words assumed

different meanings by becoming specialised or generalised, or by being

used metaphorically—how, in the end, some words became purely formal,

and served as the grammatical articulations of human speech. What has

that to do with a child learning to say _Bread_ or _Milk_, or with a

parrot learning to say _Poor Polly_? We might as well try to study the

geological stratification of the earth from watching the layers of a

wedding-cake. I know quite well that every philosopher, when he becomes

a father thinks that he may discover the origin of language in his

nursery. The books which owe their origin to these paternal experiments

are endless. But they have thrown hardly one ray of pure light on the

dark problem of the origin and evolution of human speech. That problem,

if it can be solved at all, can only be solved by a careful analysis

of language, such as it exists in the immense varieties of spoken

languages all over the globe. This is the work which the Science of

Language has carried out for nearly a century, and which will occupy

the minds of many students and philosophers for centuries to come.

F. MAX MUELLER.

LITERARY CORRESPONDENCE.

I.

Some distinguished foreigners have called my attention to the _Manuals

of Moral and Civic Instruction_ which circulate in our schools,

thinking with reason that they mark perhaps the most important reform

in public teaching. There have been published in France a dozen or

more during the last ten years or so. The clerical party has thundered

against these little books: it had good reason for alarm, for they aim

at nothing less than to take the place of the catechism.

How do they replace it? What is their inferiority, or, what their

advantages? What is their principle, their disposition? This can be

sufficiently judged of by the five we have before us, signed by names

more or less known, those of PAUL BERT, PIERRE LALOI, CHARLES BIGOT,

MME. HENRY GRÉVILLE, and GABRIEL COMPAYRÉ.[139]

[139] Paul Bert, _L'Instruction civique à l'école_,

Picard-Bernheim, Pub.; Pierre Laloi, _La première année

d'instruction morale et civique_, Armand Colin, Pub.; Charles

Bigot, _Le petit Français_, Weill et Maurice, Pub.; Mme.

Henry Gréville, _Instruction morale et civique des jeunes

filles_, Weill et Maurice, Pub.; Gabriel Compayré, _Eléments

d'instruction morale et civique_, Paul Delaplane, Pub.

The manuals of MM. Paul Bert and Laloi, are models of style: the one in

familiar, easy dialogues; the other in simple and clear precepts, set

off and illustrated by pleasant stories. Lists of questions facilitate

the use of the book by the master. The divisions or chapters relate to

special subjects,—the military service, taxes, the fatherland, the

parliament, the law, the government, etc. So much as to the form; let

us look at the groundwork.

The catechism imparted general moral precepts which concerned the man,

and particular commands which concerned the Christian. Our manuals also

tend to form the man; but in the man, above all, the good Frenchman.

We find there glowing pages on the love of one's native land, and on

the beauty of one's country, which we must love. Far be it from me to

cast censure on this noble sentiment. Nevertheless, I do not think

exaggeration on that point is desirable, lest we should seek a cause

of patriotism even in the acknowledged superiority, from a gastronomic

point of view, of the hare of France over the hare of Germany! Our

writers, undoubtedly, have too much tact to lay themselves open to

this ridicule. It is very striking, though, that the notion of the

moral man considered as a Frenchman, German, Englishman, or Italian, is

narrower than that of the Christian man: this reversion into the folds

of nationality is a characteristic phenomenon of our old world in this

latter end of the century. If our encyclopædists had hit on the idea

of writing a laic catechism, the tone of it would have been different.

Our authors of to-day alas! have only too much excuse to wish to form

at first the _little Frenchman_, and to promote the reaction against a

cosmopolitanism which had become dangerous to our national existence.

They have done it, however, with sufficient caution, and without

detriment to justice.

I shall not say as much for M. Paul Bert, in relation to his manual

dedicated to the Revolution. Still here, undoubtedly, it is necessary

to make allowance for the political necessities of the present time.

But what a danger to sanctify at any cost the sanguinary epoch of our

democracy; what an error to date the French era from 1789, and to

make our children believe that our fathers should have had hardly the

sentiment of public virtue! The worst is not that their young souls

are thus embittered, but that their judgment on the facts of history

is falsified. We are here only too much inclined to disregard the

necessity of human evolution, and to imagine that it suffices to change

the label of the sack to improve the merchandise. M. Bigot and M.

Laloi, at least, have more wisdom, more prudence in this respect.

The ambition of the catechism, on another point, seems to go beyond

that of our manuals. It offered an explanation of the world, a complete

conception of human destiny, in a word, a doctrine which _returns into

itself_. This doctrine holds no longer, it is known nevertheless, and

it is necessary now to replace it. Unfortunately scientific morality

has not yet found its formula in a practical book, and the divergences

of views are confessed in our manuals, where the conception of a

fundamental ensemble almost entirely fails. It is sufficient to read

the tables of contents to convince oneself of this. The work of M.

Compayré, who addresses himself especially to the "middle and higher

grades," changes suddenly in Book III. entitled _La Nature humaine et

la morale_. What signifies the definition, that "morality is nothing

more than the ensemble of the laws that nature has engraved in your

soul before human legislators inscribed them in their codes"? What is

doing here the vain affirmation of the existence of God and of the

immortality of the soul, and this "let us contemplate and adore" which

sums it up? In the mouth of M. Compayré it is only a concession and an

avowal of infirmity. A frank spiritualist will resolutely establish

his moral conception on his belief; but nominal deism causes God to

play the rôle of an ignominious personage who has no longer a suitable

occupation on the scene.

After all is said, however, our manuals have the advantage over the

catechism in the clearness of their definitions (not all correct, it

is true) and in the immediate value of the instruction. For example,

M. Laloi gives information as to the placing out of money, reproduces

the formulas in use in the ordinary acts of life, etc. I should take

care not to blame, either this good practical sense, or this manner of

instructing the child according to his capacity to understand himself

and understand the world which surrounds him. In the modest articles of

our little class-books, is found summed up, definitively, the secular

experience of human societies, and this also has an aggregative value.

* * * * *

Numerous are the works written among us by distinguished authors to

introduce youthful minds into the various sciences. The _Bibliothèque

utile_ already includes several, and among them one of the best will

always be the book of ADOLPHE COSTE, _La Richesse et le Bonheur_,[140]

with which that library is about to enrich itself. M. Coste has

reproduced here, in order to express them in a simple form, the

doctrines expounded in his large works. But there is also contributed

something new, as to what he calls property, for example. The _Manuals_

of which I just spoke base all property on labor alone. Mme. Henry

Gréville defines it "a right, based on the difficulty that any one has

had in acquiring a thing." It would be proper to add—"and to save a

thing," in taking account of the more exact analysis made by M. Coste.

For if it is true that "consumable goods" are always due to labor in

some manner, it is no less true that "productive capital," can only

be acquired by putting a part of these goods outside of the current

consumption, that is to say by saving something of that which one

possesses. Saving is to-day the only regular source of accumulation of

wealth; it is one of the indispensable factors of property. The usual

definition sees only the other factor of wealth, labor, and opens thus

the road to the dangerous sophism of which the workmen make a weapon,

when they claim that they alone ought to possess, as they produce.

[140] Publisher of the _Bibliothèque utile_, F. Alcan.

Let us quote the passage. It is exact. "By his labor man takes

possession of the fruits, he enters into the enjoyment of his part

of the product: this is in some sort only a personal right which

disappears at once with consumption. But from the time that this man

saves something from consumption and establishes capital, he becomes a

proprietor, he acquires a social right. Fundamentally, property is the

public acknowledgment of the service rendered to the community by the

increase of the productive capital" (p. 25).

I will notice further, in the work of M. Coste, the difficulty that it

describes, and that greatly embarrasses economists, of reconciling the

value of labor, due to individual effort, with the value of exchange,

imposed by the general needs. As to the relations between Wealth and

Happiness, he judges them intimate enough: happiness resides chiefly,

according to him, in activity, which has for its principal forms the

acquisition of wealth and the productive employment of wealth. The

question would appear undoubtedly more complex, from the psychological

point of view. But we could very well content ourselves with this

notion, clear and sound, of an economical happiness.

One has always pleasure in reading M. Coste, because he has just ideas,

because he approaches questions of political economy as a naturalist

and studies the facts in their evolution. It is the best method for

understanding the subject. The deductive economists have never failed

to deceive us. I would wish in the public interest for numerous readers

of treatises of this kind.

* * * * *

Some day or other, the occasion will present itself for us to speak

somewhat fully of pedagogy. Certainly, if the passion of _magister_ was

ever exaggerated, it is in our day, and, through logic and principles,

it will become in time more difficult to make a little boy eat his

porridge than to govern an empire. In all that has been done, I see

some good, but much evil; I am afraid that little artificial prodigies

will in time be produced, and that we shall be given hot-house oranges

instead of fine fruit ripened in full sunshine. Books follow books,

and mistakes succeed mistakes. There is everywhere an embarrassment

of _talents_, scarcity of _characters_. Have the causes of it been

unravelled and the remedy discovered? In order to judge the results,

let us wait half a century!

M. EUGENE MAILLET, whose work—_L'Education, Elements de psychologie

de l'homme et de l'enfant appliquée à la pédagogie_—I have formally

to announce,[141] will readily excuse, I hope, this quarter of an

hour's bad humor. It is not from him that I take it, and his work gives

evidence of too much experience, too much study, that a high value

should not be placed on it. The present volume is only the first part

of it; "the second part will have for its object education itself,

considered at first in its idea, then in its various forms,—physical

education, education of the heart, education of the mind, education of

the will and of the character, finally in the general principles of

logic and morality which ought to dominate it and without which the

rules of a wisely graduated methodology or of a rational discipline

cannot be established."

[141] Belin frères, Publishers.

In these _Elements of Psychology_, M. Maillet shows himself acquainted

with new studies and methods. It is regrettable only that he does

not enter into them with sufficient freedom. He has not consented

to rid himself of the old terminology, he preserves the outlines

almost of spiritual psychology, and appears even to seek in the

affirmation of spiritualism the indispensable completion of a science

of education. His work will perhaps be better welcomed for it by the

university public; but we should have preferred, for our part, that

he had remained less "classic," while retaining his entire freedom of

criticism.

With this limitation we can recommend his work without mental

reservation; some portions of it are excellent, and many readers will

profit by consulting it. It is written with order, clearness, and good

sense.

* * * * *

Here now is a curiosity, the first number of the _Annales des sciences

psychiques, recueil d'observations et d'expériences_, appearing every

two months, founded under the patronage of M. Charles Richet, with M.

Dr. Dariex as editor.[142] This magazine will publish "Observations

relative to so-called occult facts, _telepathy_, _lucidity_,

_presentiment_, _objective apparitions_, etc." _Experiences_,—there

can hardly yet be any question of them except in appearance; M. Richet

so avows with good grace in a letter forming an introduction,—a very

curious letter, rich in excellent advice which will perhaps not be

sufficiently listened to, and with a declaration of principle which has

a chance of being far too much so.

[142] Felix Alcan, Publisher.

"We have the firm conviction," writes M. Richet, in effect, "that there

is, mixed up with the known and described forces, forces that we do not

know; that the simple, vulgar mechanical explanation will not suffice

to explain all that passes around us; in a word, that there are occult

psychic phenomena, and, if we say 'occult,' it is a word intended to

express simply what is unknown."

What is meant here by the word forces? We are told "for three hundred

years electricity was an unknown force." But it is always _occult_,

as _force_; and if science is become positive, it is because it

has neglected the vain entity, in order to see only a new group of

empirical data, a new series of facts, that it is more or less easy

to translate into unities of heat and of work. What then would forces

be subtracted from mechanics, if not occult forces, with "chimerical

functions"? The expression _vulgar mechanics_, does not suffice to

correct the sense of the phrase and rather aggravates it, in allowing

to be supposed that there exist two kinds of forces, one of which has

no _measure_. But the comparison, then, is not worth anything, and it

is not necessary to speak of electricity or chemical affinity in this

matter.

As to the "observations," of what value are such as are presented to

us? But little, after all, and many other facts will be necessary to

lead us to accept the non-fortuitous relation of certain hallucinations

with an objective event. Notwithstanding the wise reservations of

the editor, it is to be regretted that we find already in this first

number, under the title of _Une chambre hantée_, a real ghost story.

Story for story, I would prefer much to read the _Chambre bleu_ of

Mérimée; so also, I doubt not, would M. Richet.

This little censure is not meant in jest, which would be out of place.

There is always advantage in collecting _facts_, on condition that they

are chosen with care, and that haste is not made to interpret them. MM.

Richet and Dariex insist on this point with the greatest force. Curious

readers will not be wanting for these Annals, even among sceptics. It

has always been necessary to carry the lamp to cause the phantoms to

vanish.[143]

[143] Reference may be made to the first number of the _Revue

mensuelle de l'Ecole d'Anthropologie de Paris_, published by

the Professors at the _Librairie Alcan_. In this number will

be found a lecture by M. André Lefèvre, under this interesting

title: _Du Cri à la Parole_.

LUCIEN ARRÉAT.

II.

THE SCIENCE OF PEDAGOGICS IN GERMANY.

In view of the great care with which _The Monist_ cultivates

psychology, I may be permitted in my first letter, consistently I

judge, to speak of the most important application of this science—its

application namely to pedagogics.

The Monist, Vol. 1, 1890-1891 · 第 58 / 64 段