[77] For meaningless articulation by idi_Mental Evolution in Man: Origin of Human Faculty

Education of Idiots_. The fact is alluded to by most writers on idiot

psychology, and I have frequently observed it myself. But the case of

uneducated deaf-mutes is here more to the purpose. I will, therefore,

furnish one quotation in evidence of the above statement. “It is a very

notable fact bearing upon the problem of the Origin of Language, that

even born-mutes, who never heard a word spoken, do of their own accord

and without any teaching make vocal sounds more or less articulate,

to which they attach a definite meaning, and which, when once made,

they go on using afterwards in the same unvarying sense. Though these

sounds are often capable of being written down more or less accurately

with our ordinary alphabets, this effect on those who make them can,

of course, have nothing to do with the sense of hearing, but must

consist only in particular ways of breathing, combined with particular

positions of the vocal organs” (Tylor, _Early History of Mankind_, p.

72, where see for evidence). The instinctive articulations of Laura

Bridgman (who was blind as well as deaf) are in this connection even

still more conclusive (see _ibid._, pp. 74, 75).

[78] Writers on infant psychology differ as to the time when words are

first understood by infants. Doubtless it varies in individual cases,

and is always more or less difficult to determine with accuracy. But

all observers agree—and every mother or nurse could corroborate—that

the understanding of many words and sentences is unmistakable long

before the child itself begins to speak. Mr. Darwin’s observations

showed that in the case of his children the understanding of words and

sentences was unmistakable between the tenth and twelfth months.

[79] See _Animal Intelligence_: for Fish, p. 250; for Frogs and Toads,

p. 225; for Snakes, p. 261; for Birds and Mammals in various parts of

the chapters devoted to these animals. The case quoted on the authority

of Bingley regarding the tame bees of Mr. Wildman, which he had taught

to obey words of command (p. 189), would, if corroborated, carry the

faculty in question into the invertebrated series.

[80] Although the ages at which talking proper begins varies much in

different children, it may be taken as a universal rule—as stated in

the last foot-note—that words, and even sentences, are understood long

before they are intelligently articulated; although, as previously

remarked, even before any words are _understood_ meaningless syllables

may be spontaneously or instinctively articulated.

[81] See, for instance, Watson’s _Reasoning Power in Animals_, pp.

137-149, and Meunier’s _Les Animaux Perfectibles_, ch. xii.

[82] _Ursprung der Sprache_, p. 122.

[83] Some cases are on record of dogs having been taught to

articulate. Thus the thoughtful Leibnitz vouches for the fact (which

he communicated to the _Académie Royale_ at Paris, and which that body

said they would have doubted had it not been observed by so eminent

a man), that he had heard a peasant’s dog distinctly articulate

thirty words, which it had been taught to say by the peasant’s son.

The _Dumfries Journal_, January, 1829, mentions a dog as then living

in that town, who uttered distinctly the word “William,” which was

the name of a person to whom he was attached. Again, Colonel Mallery

writes:—“Some recent experiments of Prof. A. Graham Bell, no less

eminent from his work in artificial speech than in telephones, shows

that animals are more physically capable of pronouncing articulate

sounds than has been supposed. He informed the writer that he recently

succeeded by manipulation in causing an English terrier to form a

number of the sounds of our letters, and particularly brought out

from it the words ‘How are you, grandmama,’ with distinctness.” As I

believe that the barrier to articulation in dogs is anatomical and not

psychological, I regard it as merely a question of observation whether

this barrier may not in some cases be partly overcome; but, as far as

the evidence goes, I think it is safer to conclude that the instances

mentioned consisted in the animals so modulating the tones of their

voices as to resemble the sounds of certain words.

[84] Mr. Darwin writes:—“It is certain that some parrots, which have

been taught to speak, connect unerringly words with things, and persons

with events. I have received several detailed accounts to this effect.

Admiral Sir J. Sullivan, whom I know to be a careful observer, assures

me that an African parrot, long kept in his father’s house, invariably

called certain persons of the household, as well as visitors, by their

names. He said ‘Good morning’ to every one at breakfast, and ‘Good

night’ to each as they left the room at night, and never reversed

these salutations. To Sir J. Sullivan’s father he used to add to the

‘good morning’ a short sentence, which was never repeated after his

father’s death. He scolded violently a strange dog which came into the

room through an open window, and he scolded another parrot (saying,

‘You naughty polly!’), which had got out of its cage, and was eating

apples on the kitchen table. Dr. A. Moschkan informs me that he knew a

starling which never made a mistake in saying in German ‘good morning’

to persons arriving, and ‘good-bye, old fellow’ to those departing. I

could add several other cases” (_Descent of Man_, p. 85). Similarly

Houzeau gives some instances of nearly the same kind (_Fac. Ment. des

Anim._, tom, ii., p. 309, _et seq._); and Mrs. Lee, in her _Anecdotes_

records several still more remarkable cases (which are quoted by

Houzeau), as does also M. Meunier in his recently published work on

_Les Animaux Perfectibles_. In my own correspondence I have received

numerous letters detailing similar facts, and from these I gather

that parrots often use comical phrases when they desire to excite

laughter, pitiable phrases when they desire to excite compassion, and

so on; although it does not follow from this that the birds understand

the meanings of these phrases, further than that they are as a whole

appropriate to excite the feelings which it is desired to excite. I

have myself kept selected parrots, and can fully corroborate all the

above statements from my own observations.

[85] _Journal of Mental Science_, July, 1879.

[86] This term has been previously used by some philologists to signify

ejaculation by man. It will be observed that I use it in a more

extended sense.

[87] _Man’s Place in Nature_, p. 52. I may here appropriately allude

to a paper which elicited a good deal of discussion some years ago. It

was read before the Victoria Institute in March, 1872, by Dr. Frederick

Bateman, under the title “Darwinism tested by Recent Researches in

Language;” and its object was to argue that the faculty of articulate

speech constitutes a difference of kind between the psychology of man

and that of the lower animals. This argument Dr. Bateman sought to

establish, first on the usual grounds that no animals are capable of

using words with any degree of understanding, and, second, on grounds

of a purely anatomical kind. In the text I fully deal with the first

allegation: as a matter of fact, many of the lower animals understand

the meanings of many words, while those of them which are alone capable

of imitating our articulate sounds not unfrequently display a correct

appreciation of their use as signs. But what I have here especially

to consider is the anatomical branch of Dr. Bateman’s argument. He

says:—“As the remarkable similarity between the brain of man and that

of the ape cannot be disputed, if the seat of human speech could be

positively traced to any particular part of the brain, the Darwinian

could say that, although the ape could not speak, he possessed the germ

of that faculty, and that in subsequent generations, by the process of

evolution, the ‘speech centre’ would become more developed, and the

ape would then speak.... If the scalpel of the anatomist has failed to

discover a _material locus habitandi_ for man’s proud prerogative—the

faculty of Articulate Language; if science has failed to trace speech

to a ‘material centre,’ has failed thus to connect matter with mind, I

submit that speech is the barrier between men and animals, establishing

between them a difference not only of degree but of kind; the Darwinian

analogy between the brain of man and that of his reputed ancestor,

the ape, loses all its force, whilst the common belief in the Mosaic

account of the origin of man is strengthened.” Now, I will not wait to

present the evidence which has fully satisfied all living physiologists

that “the faculty of Articulate Language” has “a _material locus

habitandi_;” for the point on which I desire to insist is that it

cannot make one iota of difference to “the Darwinian analogy” whether

this faculty is restricted to a particular “speech-centre,” or has

its anatomical “seat” distributed over any wider area of the cerebral

cortex. Such a “seat” there must be in either case, if it be allowed

(as Dr. Bateman allows) that the cerebral cortex “is undoubtedly the

instrument by which this attribute becomes externally manifested.”

The question whether “the material organ of speech” is large or small

cannot possibly affect the question on which we are engaged. Since Dr.

Bateman wrote, a new era has arisen in the localization of cerebral

functions; so that, if there were any soundness in his argument, one

would now be in a position immensely to strengthen “the Darwinian

analogy;” seeing that physiologists now habitually utilize the brains

of monkeys for the purpose of analogically localizing the “motor

centres” in the brain of man. In other words, “the Darwinian analogy”

has been found to extend in physiological, as well as in anatomical

detail, throughout the entire area of the cortex. But, as I have shown,

there is no soundness in his argument; and therefore I do not avail

myself of these recent and most wonderfully suggestive results of

physiological research.

[88] I may, however, add the following corroborative observations, as

they have not been previously published. I owe them to the kindness

of my friend Mr. A. E. Street, who kept a diary of his children’s

psychogenesis. When about two years of age one of these children

possessed the following vocabulary:—

Af-ta (in imitation of the sound which the nurse used to make when

pretending to drink) = _drinking_ or a _drink_, _drinking-vessel_, and

hence a _glass_ of any kind.

Vy = a _fly_.

Vy-’ta = _window_, _i.e._ the ‘ta or af-ta (_glass_) on which a fly

walks.

Blow = _candle_.

Blow-hattie = a _lamp_, _i.e._ candle with a hat or shade.

’Nell = a _flower_, _i.e._ smell.

These words are clearly all of imitative origin. The following,

however, seem to have been purely arbitrary:—

Numby = _food_ of any kind (onomatopoetic).

Nunny = _dress_ of any kind.

Milly = _dressing_, and any article used in dressing, _e.g._ a pin.

Lee = _the name for her nurse_, though no one else called the woman by

any other name than nurse.

Diddle-iddle = _a hole_; hence _a thimble_; hence _a finger_.

Wasky = _the sea_.

Bilu-bilu = _the printed character_ “&,” invented on learning the

first letters of her alphabet, and always afterwards used.

[89] Touching the comparative rapidity with which signs admit of being

made to the eye and ear respectively, it may be pointed out that there

is a physiological reason why the latter should have the advantage; for

while the ear can distinguish successive sensations separated only by

an interval of .016 sec., the eye cannot do so unless the interval is

more than .047 sec. (Wundt).

[90] _Encyclop. Brit._, 9th ed., art. _Philology_.

[91] It will be remembered that in a previous chapter I argued the

impossibility of estimating the reflex influence of speech upon

gesture, in the case of the high development attained by the latter in

man. In the text I am now considering the converse influence of gesture

upon speech, and find that it is no more easy precisely to estimate.

There can be no doubt, however, that the reciprocal influence must

have been great in both directions, and that it must have proceeded

from gesture to speech in the first instance, and afterwards, when the

latter had become well developed as a system of auditory signs, from

speech to gesture. More will require to be said upon this point in a

future chapter.

[92] “The remark made by Tiedemann on the imperative intention of

tears, is confirmed by similar observations of Charles Darwin’s. At

the age of eleven weeks, in the case of one of his children, a little

sooner in another, the nature of their crying changed according to

whether it was produced by hunger or suffering. And this means of

communication appeared to be very early placed at the service of the

will. The child seemed to have learnt to cry when he wished, and to

contract his features according to the occasion, so as to make known

that he wanted something. This development of the will takes place

towards the end of the third month.” (Perez, _First Three Years of

Childhood_, English trans., p. 101.)

[93] Several writers of repute have habitually used the word “Judgment”

in a most unwarrantable manner—Lewes, for instance, making it stand

indifferently for an act of sensuous determination and an act of

conceptual thought. I may, therefore, here remark that in the following

analysis I shall not be concerned with any such gratuitous abuses of

the term, but will understand it in the technical sense which it bears

in logic and psychology. The extraordinary views which Mr. Huxley

has published upon this subject I can only take to be ironical. For

instance, he says:—“Ratiocination is resolvable into predication,

and predication consists in marking in some way the existence, the

co-existence, the succession, the likeness and unlikeness, of things or

their ideas. Whatever does this, reasons; and I see no more ground for

denying to it reasoning power, because it is unconscious, than I see

for refusing Mr. Babbage’s engine the title of a calculating machine

on the same grounds” (_Critiques and Addresses_, p. 281). If this

statement were taken seriously, of course the answer would be that Mr.

Babbage’s engine is called a calculating machine only in a metaphorical

sense, seeing that it does not evolve its results by any process at

all resembling, or in any way analogous to, those of a human mind. It

would be an absurd misstatement to say that a machine either reasons

or predicates, _only_ because it “marks in some way the existence,

the co-existence, the succession, and the likeness and unlikeness of

things.” A rising barometer or a striking clock do not predicate, any

more than a piece of wood, shrieking beneath a circular saw, feels.

To denominate purely mechanical or unconscious action—even though it

should take place in a living agent and be perfectly adjustive—reason

or predication, would be to confuse physical phenomena with psychical;

and, as I have shown in my previous work, even if it be supposed that

the latter are mere “indices” or “shadows” of the former, _still the

fact of their existence must be recognized_; and the processes in

question have reference to them, not to their physical counterparts.

It is, therefore, just as incorrect to say that a calculating machine

really calculates, or predicates the result of its calculations, as it

would be to say that a musical-box composes a tune because it plays a

tune, or that the love of Romeo and Juliet was an isosceles triangle,

because their feelings of affection, each to each, were, like the

angles at the base of that figure, equal. But, as I have said, I take

it that Professor Huxley must here have been writing in some ironical

sense, and therefore purposely threw his criticisms into a preposterous

form.

[94] The “images answering respectively to ‘a thing being,’ and ‘a

thing not being,’ and to ‘at the same time’ and ‘in the same sense,’”

must indeed be “vague.” How is it conceivable that “the imagination”

can entertain any such “images” at all, apart from the “abstract ideas”

of the “mind”? Such ideas as “a thing not being,” or “being in the same

sense,” &c., belong to the sphere of conceptual thought, and cannot

have any existence at all except as “abstract ideas of the mind.”

[95] _Nature_, August 21, 1879.

[96] The statement conveyed in this sentence I am not able to

understand, and therefore will not hereafter endeavour to criticize.

If it be taken literally—and I know not in what other sense to take

it—we must suppose the writer to mean that “greenness” only occurs in

“grass,” or, which is the same thing, that only grass is green.

[97] _Lessons from Nature_, pp. 226, 227.

[98] For instance, Professor Francis Bowen, of Harvard College, in an

essay on _The Human and Brute Mind_, _Princeton Review_, 1880.

[99] Mill, following the schoolmen, uses the terms connotation and

denomination as synonymous. For the distinction which I have drawn

between them see above, p. 162.

[100] Sayce, _Introduction to the Science of Language_, i., 115.

[101] This view of a concept as already embodying the idea of existence

is not really opposed to that of Mill, where he points out that if we

pronounce the word “Sun” alone we are not necessarily affirming so much

as existence of the sun (_Logic_, i., p. 20); for, although we are not

affirming existence of that particular body, we must at least have the

idea of its existence _as a possibility_: the use of the term carries

with it the implied idea of such a possibility, and therefore the idea

of existence—whether actual or potential—as already present to the

mind of the speaker.

[102] In order to avoid misapprehension, I may observe that the

criticism which Mill passes upon this analysis of the proposition by

Hobbes (_Logic_, i., p. 100) has no reference to the only matter with

which I am at present concerned—namely, the function of the copula.

Indeed, with regard to this matter I am in full agreement with both

the Mills. For James Mill, see _Analysis of the Human Mind_, i. 126,

_et seq._; Mr. John Stuart Mill writes as follows:—“It is important

that there should be no indistinctness in our conception of the nature

and office of the copula; for confused notions respecting it are among

the causes which have spread mysticism over the field of logic, and

perverted its speculations into logomachies. It is apt to be supposed

that the copula is something more than a mere sign of predication;

that it also signifies existence. In the proposition, Socrates is

just, it may seem to be implied not only that the quality _just_ can

be affirmed of Socrates, but moreover that Socrates _is_, that is to

say exists. This, however, only shows that there is an ambiguity in

the word _is_; a word which not only performs the function of a copula

in affirmations, but has also a meaning of its own, in virtue of which

it may itself be made the predicate of a proposition” (_Logic_, i., p.

86). In my chapters on Philology I shall have to recur to the analysis

of predication, and then it will be seen how completely the above view

has been corroborated by the progress of linguistic research.

[103] Of course concepts may be something more than mere recepts known

as such: they may be the knowledge of other concepts. But with this

higher stage of conceptual ideation I am not here concerned.

[104] _Nature_, August 21, 1879.

[105] Taine, _Intelligence_, pp. 399, 400.

[106] Or, as we may now more closely define it, a denominated recept.

A merely denotated recept (such as a parrot’s name for its recept of

dog) is not conceptual, even in the lowest degree. In other words,

named recepts, merely as such, are not necessarily concepts. Whether

or not they are concepts depends on whether the naming has been an

act of denotation or of denomination—conscious only, or likewise

_self_-conscious.

[107] I coin this word on the pattern already furnished by

“pre-perception,” which was first introduced by Lewes, and is now in

general use among psychologists.

[108] Touching the power of recognizing pictorial representations among

animals, this unquestionably occurs in dogs (see _Animal Intelligence_,

pp. 455, 456), and there is some evidence to show that it is likewise

displayed by monkeys. For Isidore Geoffroy St. Hilaire relates of a

species of Midas (_Corinus_) that it distinguished between different

objects depicted on an engraving; and Audouin “showed it the portraits

of a cat and a wasp, at which it became much terrified: whereas, at the

sight of a figure of a grasshopper or a beetle, it precipitated itself

on the picture, as if to seize the objects there represented” (Bates,

_Nat. on Amaz._, p. 60). The age at which a young child first learns to

recognize pictorial resemblances no doubt varies in individual cases. I

have not met with any evidence on this subject in the writings of other

observers of infant psychology. The earliest age at which I observed

any display of this faculty in my own children was at eight months,

when my son stared long and fixedly at my own portrait in a manner

which left no doubt on my mind that he recognized it as resembling the

face of a man. Moreover, always after that day when asked in that room,

“Where’s papa?” he used at once to look up and point at the portrait.

Another child of my own, which had not seen this portrait till she was

sixteen months old, immediately recognized it at first sight, as was

proved by her pointing to it and calling it “Papa.” Two months later I

observed that she also recognized pictorial resemblances of animals,

and for many months afterwards her chief amusement consisted in looking

through picture-books for the purpose of pointing out the animals or

persons depicted—calling “Ba-a-a” to the sheep, “Moo” to the cows,

grunting for the pigs, &c., these sundry sounds having been taught

her as names by the nurse. She never made a mistake in this kind of

nomenclature, and spontaneously called all pictorial representations

of men “Papa,” of women “Mama,” and of children “Ilda”—the latter

being the name which she had given to her younger brother. Moreover,

if a picture-book were given into her hands upside-down, she would

immediately perceive and rectify the mistake; and whenever she happened

to see a pictorial representation of an animal—as, for instance, on

a screen or wall-paper—she would touch it and utter the sound that

was her name for that animal. With a third child, who was still wholly

speechless at eighteen months, I tried the experiment of spreading out

a number of photographic portraits, and asking him “Which is mamma?

Which is papa?” &c. Without any hesitation he indicated them all

correctly.

[109] By using the word “judgment” in all these cases I am in no

way prejudicing the argument of my opponents. The explanation which

immediately follows in the text is sufficient to show that the

qualifying terms “receptual” and “pre-conceptual” effectually guard

against any abuse of the term—quite as much, for instance, as when

psychologists speak of “perceptual judgments,” or “unconscious

judgments,” or “intuitive judgments,” in connection with still lower

levels of mental operation. And it seems to me better thus to qualify

an existing term than to add to the already large number of words I

have found it necessary to coin.

[110] I may here remark that this possibility of receptual predication

on the part of talking birds is not entirely hypothetical: I have

some evidence that it may be actually realized. For instance, a

correspondent writes of a cockatoo which had been ill:—“A friend

came the same afternoon, and asked him how he was. With his head on

one side and one of his cunning looks, he told her that he was ‘a

little better;’ and when she asked him if he had not been very ill, he

said, ‘Cockie better; Cockie ever so much better.’ ... ‘When I came

back (after a prolonged absence) he said, ‘Mother come back to little

Cockie: Mother come back to little Cockie. Come and love me and give

me pretty kiss. Nobody pity poor Cockie. The boy beat poor Cockie.’ He

always told me if Jes scolded or beat him. He always told me as soon as

he saw me, and in such a pitiful tone.... The remarkable thing about

this bird is that he does not merely ‘talk’ like parrots in general,

but so habitually _talks to the purpose_.”

[111] Lest there should still be any ambiguity about the numerous terms

which I have found it necessary to coin, I will here supply a table of

definitions.

Lower recept = an automatic grouping of percepts.

Higher recept = pre-concept; or a degree of receptual ideation which

does not occur in any brute.

Lower concept = named recept, provided that the naming be due to

reflective thought.

Higher concept = a named compound of concepts.

The analogues of these terms are, in the matter of naming:—

Receptual naming = denotation, which includes pre-conceptual naming.

Conceptual naming = denomination.

And, in the matter of judging, the analogues are:—

Receptual judgment = automatic, “practical,” or unthinking inference.

Pre-conceptual judgment = the higher, though still unthinking,

inferences of a child prior to the rise of self-consciousness.

Conceptual judgment = true judgment, whether exhibited in

denomination, predication, or any act of inference for which

self-conscious thought may be required.

[112] See above, Chapters II. and IV.

[113] See _Mental Evolution in Animals_, chapter on “Imagination.”

[114] In the opinion of Wundt, the most important of all conditions

to the genesis of self-consciousness is given by the muscular sense

in acts of voluntary movement (_Vorlesungen über die Menschen und

Thierseele_, 18 vol.). While agreeing with him that this is a highly

important condition, I think the others above mentioned are quite as

much, or even more so.

[115] See for cases of this, _Animal Intelligence_, pp. 410, 443, 444,

450-452, 458, 494.

[116] The following is a good example of ejective ideation in a

brute—all the better, perhaps, on account of being so familiar. I

quote it from Quatrefage’s _Human Species_, pp. 20, 21:—“I must here

beg permission to relate the remembrance of my struggles with a mastiff

of pure breed and which had attained its full size, remaining, however,

very young in character. We were very good friends and often played

together. As soon as ever I assumed an attitude of defence before him,

he would leap upon me with every appearance of fury, seizing in his

mouth the arm which I had used as a shield. He might have marked my arm

deeply at the first onset, but he never pressed it in a manner that

could inflict the slightest pain. I often seized his lower jaw with my

hand, but he never used his teeth so as to bite me. And yet the next

moment the same teeth would indent a piece of wood I tried to tear away

from them. This animal evidently knew what it was doing when it feigned

the passion precisely opposite to that which it really felt; when, even

in the excitement of play, it retained sufficient mastery over its

movements to avoid hurting me. In reality it played a part in a comedy,

and we cannot act without being conscious of it.”

[117] Not, however, wholly so. Mr. Chauncey Wright has clearly

recognized the existence of what I term receptual self-consciousness,

and assigned to it the name above adopted—_i.e._ “outward

self-consciousness.” See his _Evolution of Self-consciousness_. Mr.

Darwin, also, appears to have recognized this distinction, in the

following passage:—“It may be freely admitted that no animal is

self-conscious, if by this term is implied that he reflects on such

points as whence he comes or whither he will go, or what is life and

death, and so forth. But how can we feel sure that an old dog with

an excellent memory and some power of imagination, as shown by his

dreams, never reflects on his past pleasures or pains in the chase?

And this would be a form of self-consciousness” (_Descent of Man_, p.

83). Of course a psychologist may take technical exception to the word

“reflects” in this passage; but that this kind of receptual reflection

does take place in dogs appears to me to be definitely proved by the

facts of home-sickness and pining for absent friends, above alluded to.

[118] In the present connection the following very pregnant sentence

may be appropriately quoted from Wundt:—“Wenn wir überall auf die

Empfindung als Ausgangspunkt der ganzen Entwicklungsreihe hingewiesen

werden, so _müssen_ auch die Anfänge jener Unterscheidung des Ichs von

den Gegenständen schon in den Empfindungen gelegen sein” (_Vorlesungen

über die Menschen und Thierseele_, i. 287). And to the objection that

there can be no thought without knowledge of thought, he replies

that before there is any knowledge of thought there must be the same

order of thinking as there is of perceiving prior to the advent of

self-consciousness—_e.g._ receptual ideas about space before there is

any conceptual knowledge of these ideas as such.

[119] Sully, _loc. cit._, p. 376. See also Wundt, _loc. cit._, i. 289.

He shows that this speaking of self in the third person is not due to

“imitation,” but, on the contrary, opposed to it. For “a thousand times

the child hears that its elders do not thus speak of themselves.” The

child hears that its elders call it in the third person, and in this it

follows them. But such imitation as we here find is expressive only of

the fact that hitherto the child has not distinguished between self as

an object and self as a subject. Only later on, when this distinction

has begun to dawn, does imitation proceed to apply to the self the

first person, after the manner in which other selves (now recognized by

the child as such) are heard to do.

[120] _Loc. cit._, p. 377.

[121] _Loc. cit._, pp. 435, 436.

[122] _Philosophical Discussions_, p. 256. See also _Animal

Intelligence_, pp. 269, 270, for the case of a parrot apparently

endeavouring to recover the memory of a particular word in a phrase. In

the course of an interesting research on the intelligence of spiders

(_Journ. Morphol._, i., p. 383-419), Mr. and Mrs. Peckham have recently

found that the memory of eggs which have been withdrawn from the mother

is retained by her for a period varying in different species from less

than one to more than two days.

[123] Sully, _loc. cit._, p. 377.

[124] Wundt, _loc. cit._, ii. 289, 290. He gives cases where such a

definite memory of the moment has persisted, and elsewhere states that

such is the case in his own experience. The circumstance which here

was connected with the sudden birth of self-consciousness consisted in

rolling down stairs into a cellar—an event which no doubt was well

calculated forcibly to impress upon infant consciousness that it was

itself, and nobody else.

[125] See _Mental Evolution in Animals_, pp. 161-165. Perez records

analogous facts with regard to the infant as unmistakably displayed in

the fourteenth week (_First Three Years of Childhood_, English trans.,

p. 29).

[126] _Outlines of Psychology_, p. 378.

[127] _Vorlesungen_, _&c._, i. 289.

[128] In the above sketch of the principles which are concerned in the

development of self-consciousness, I have only been concerned with the

matter on the side of its psychology, and even on this side only so far

as my own purposes are in view. Those who wish for further information

on the psychology of the subject may consult Wundt, _loc. cit._; Sully,

_loc. cit._, and _Illusions_, ch. x.; Taine, _On Intelligence_, pt.

ii., bk. iii.; Chauncey Wright, _Evolution of Self-consciousness_; and

Waitz, _Lehrbuch der Psychologie_, 58. On the side of its physiology

and pathology Taine, Maudsley, and Ribot may be referred to (_On

Intelligence_, _Pathology of Mind_, _Diseases of Memory_), as also a

paper by Herzen, entitled, _Les Modifications de la Conscience du moi_

(_Bull. Soc. Hand. Sc. Nat._, xx. 90). _An Essay on the Philosophy of

Self-consciousness_, by P. F. Fitzgerald, is written from the side of

metaphysics. On this side, also, we are met by the school of Hegel and

the Neo-Kantians with a virtual denial of the origin and development

of self-consciousness in time. Thus, for instance, Green expressly

says:—“Should the question be asked, If this self-consciousness is

not derived from nature, what then is its origin? the answer is, that

it has no origin. It never began because it never was not. It is the

condition of there being such a thing as beginning or end. Whatever

begins or ends does so for it, or in relation to it” (_Prolegomena to

Ethics_, p. 119). To this I can only answer that for my own part I feel

as convinced as I am of the fact of my self-consciousness itself that

it had a beginning in time, and was afterwards the subject of a gradual

development. “Das Ich ist ein Entwicklungsprodukt, wie der ganze Mensch

ein Entwicklungsprodukt ist” (Wundt).

[129] “Of all the neolithic implements the axe was by far the most

important. It was by the axe that man achieved his greatest victory

over nature” (Boyd Dawkins, _Early Man in Britain_, p. 274).

[130] Galton, _Tropical South Africa_, p. 213. The author adds, “Once,

while I watched a Dammara floundering hopelessly in a calculation on

one side of me, I observed Dinah, my spaniel, equally embarrassed on

the other. She was overlooking half a dozen of her new-born puppies,

which had been removed two or three times from her, and her anxiety was

excessive, as she tried to find out if they were all present, or if any

were still missing. She kept puzzling and running her eyes over them,

backwards and forwards, but could not satisfy herself. She evidently

had a vague notion of counting, but the figure was too large for her

brain. Taking the two as they stood, dog and Dammara, the comparison

reflected no great honour on the man.” As previously stated, I taught

the chimpanzee “Sally” to give one, two, three, four, or five straws at

word of command.

[131] The boy’s name was Ernest, and was thus called by all other

members of the household. As I could not find any imitative source of

the dissimilar name used by his sister, this is probably an instance

of the spontaneous invention of names by young children, which has

already been considered at the close of my chapter on “Articulation.”

Touching the use of adjectives by young children, I may quote the

following remark from Professor Preyer:—“A very general error must be

removed, which consists in the supposition that all children on first

beginning to speak use substantives only, and later pass on to the use

of adjectives. This is certainly not the case.” And he proceeds to give

instances drawn from the daily observations of his own child, such as

the use of the word “heiss” in the twenty-third month.

[132] We shall subsequently see that at this stage of mental evolution

there is no well-defined distinction between the different parts of

speech. Therefore here, and elsewhere throughout this chapter, I use

the terms “noun,” “adjective,” “verb,” &c., in a loose and general

sense.

[133] I have seen a terrier of my own (who habitually employed this

gesture-sign in the same way as Preyer’s child, namely, as expressive

of desire), assiduously though fruitlessly “beg” before a refractory

bitch.

[134] Many dogs will significantly bark, and cats significantly mew,

for things which they desire to possess or to be done. For significant

crying by children, see above, p. 158.

[135] For the case of the ape in this connection see above, p. 126.

I took my daughter when she was seven years of age to witness the

understanding of the ape “Sally.” On coming away, I remarked to her

that the animal seemed to be “quite as sensible as Jack”—_i.e._ her

infant brother of eighteen months. She considered for a while, and then

replied, “Well, I think she is sensibler.” And I believe the child was

right.

[136] Or, if any opponent were to suggest this, he would be committing

argumentative surrender. For the citadel of his argument is, as we

know, the faculty of conception, or the distinctively human power of

objectifying ideas. Now, it is on all hands admitted that this power

is impossible in the absence of self-consciousness. Will it, then, be

suggested that my daughter had attained to self-consciousness and the

introspective contemplation of her own ideas before she had attained

to the faculty of speech, and therefore to the very _condition_ to the

naming of her ideas? If so, it would follow that there may be concepts

without names, and thus the whole fortress of my opponents would

crumble away.

[137] See pp. 81-83, where it is shown that even in cases where

conceptual thought is necessary for the original formation of a

name, the name may afterwards be used without the agency of such

thought—just in the same way as actions originally due to intelligence

may, by frequent repetition, become automatic. At the close of the

present chapter it will be shown that the same is true even of full or

formal predication.

[138] In this connection it is interesting to observe the absence of

the copula. Notwithstanding the strongly imitative tendencies of a

child’s mind, and notwithstanding that our English children hear the

copula expressed in almost every statement that is made to them, their

own propositions, while still in the preconceptual phase, dispense with

it (see above, p. 204). In thus trusting to apposition alone, without

expressing any sign of relation, the young child is conveying in

spoken language an immediate translation of the mental acts concerned

in predication. As previously noticed, we meet with precisely the

same fact in the natural language of gesture, even after this has

been wrought up into the elaborate conceptual systems of the Indians

and deaf-mutes. Lastly, in a subsequent chapter we shall see that the

same has to be said of all the more primitive forms of spoken language

which are still extant among savages. So that here again we meet with

additional proof, were any required, of the folly of regarding the

copula as an essential ingredient of a proposition.

[139] See p. 166.

[140] Thus far, it will be observed, the case of predication is

precisely analogous to that of denomination, alluded to in the

foot-note on page 226. Just as instincts may arise by way of “lapsed

intelligence,” so may originally conceptual names, and even originally

conceptual propositions, become worn down by frequent use, until they

are, as it were, degraded into the pre-conceptual order of ideation. Be

it observed, however, that the paragraphs which _follow_ in the text

have reference to a totally different principle—namely, that there may

be propositions strictly conceptual as to form, which, nevertheless,

need never at any time have been conceptual as to thought.

[141] _Logic_, vol. i., p. 108.

[142] _Encyclopædia Britannica_, eighth edition, 1857, Art. “Language.”

[143] Of course in classical times, when there was no theological

presumption against the theory of development, this alternative met

with a fuller recognition; as, for example, by the Latin authors,

Horace, Lucretius, and Cicero. Before that time Greek philosophers had

been much exercised by the question whether speech was an intuitive

endowment (analogists), or a product of human invention (anomalists);

and, earlier still, astonishing progress had been made by the

grammarians of India in a truly scientific analysis of language-growth.

But in the text I am speaking of modern times; and here I think there

can be no doubt that till the middle of the present century the

possibility of language having been the result of a natural growth was

not sufficiently recognized. Among those who did recognize it, Herder,

Monboddo, Sir W. Jones, Schlegel, Bopp, Humboldt, Grimm, and Pott, are

most deserving of mention. The same year that witnessed the publication

of the _Origin of Species_ (1859), gave to science the first issue of

Steinthal’s _Zeitschrift für Völkerpsychologie und Sprachwissenschaft_.

From that date onwards the theory of evolution in its application to

philology has held undivided sway.

[144] _Encycl. Brit._, _loc. cit._ Remembering that the above was

published two years before the _Origin of Species by means of Natural

Selection_, this clear enunciation of the struggle for existence in the

field of philology appears to me deserving of notice.

[145] _Science of Thought_, preface, p. xi.

[146] _Darwinism tested by the Science of Language_, p. 41.

[147] There is a difference of opinion among philologists as to the

extent in which modifying constants were themselves originally roots.

The school of Ludwig regards demonstrative elements as never having

enjoyed existence as independent words; but, even so, they must have

had an independent existence of some kind, else it is impossible to

explain how they ever came to be employed as constantly modifying

different roots in the same way. Moreover, as Max Müller well observes,

“to suppose that Khana, Khain, Khanana, Khaintra, Khatra, &c., all

tumbled out ready-made, without any synthetical purpose, and that

their differences were due to nothing but an uncontrolled play of the

organs of speech, seems to me an unmeaning assertion.... What must be

admitted, however, is that many suffixes and terminations had been

wrongly analyzed by Bopp and his school, and that we must be satisfied

with looking upon most of them as in the beginning simply demonstrative

and modificatory” (_loc. cit._, pp. 224 and 225). See also Farrar,

_Origin of Language_, pp. 100, _et seq._; Donaldson, _Greek Grammar_,

pp. 67-79; and Hovelacque, _Science of Language_, p. 37. It will be

remarked that this question does not affect the exposition in the text.

[148] _Grundriss der Sprachwissenschaft_, I. i. 77. This estimate is

accepted by Professor Sayce, _Introduction to the Science of Language_,

vol. ii., p. 32.

[149] Hovelacque, _Science of Language_, English trans., p. 37.

[150] This method of representation was devised by Schleicher, who

carries it further than I have occasion to do in the text. See _Memoirs

of Academy of St. Petersburg_, vol. i., No. 7, 1859.

[151] Hovelacque, _loc. cit._, p. 130.

[152] Sayce, _Introduction, &c._, i. 126.

[153] _Introduction, &c._, vol. i., p. 374.

[154] _Ibid._, vol. i., pp. 375, 376.

[155] _Ibid._, p. 120. See also his _Principles of Comparative

Philology_, 2nd ed., p. ix.

[156] Sayce, _Introduction, &c._, i., 125, 126.

[157] Hovelacque, _Science of Language_, p. 130.

[158] “What we most need to note is the very narrow limitation of

our present knowledge. Even among the neighbouring families like the

Algonquin, Troquois, and Dakota, whose agreement in style of structure

(polysynthetic), taken in connection with the accordant race-type of

their speakers, forbids us to regard them as ultimately different, no

material correspondence, agreements in words and meanings, is to be

traced; and there are in America all degrees of polysynthetism, down

to the lowest, and even to its entire absence. Such being the case, it

ought to be evident that all attempts to connect American languages as

a body with languages of the Old World are, and must be, fruitless:

in fact, all discussions of the matter are at present unscientific”

(Professor Whitney in _Encycl. Brit._, art. “Philology,” 1885).

[159] _Introduction, &c._, i. 120.

[160] _Ibid._, i. 116.

[161] “The number of separate families of speech now existing in

the world, which cannot be connected with one another, is at least

seventy-five; and the number will doubtless be increased when we have

grammars and dictionaries of the numerous languages and dialects which

are still unknown, and better information as regards those with which

we are partially acquainted. If we add to these the innumerable groups

of speech which have passed away without leaving behind even such

waifs as the Basque of the Pyrenees, or the Etruscan of ancient Italy,

some idea will be formed of the infinite number of primæval centres or

communities in which language took its rise” (Sayce, _Introduction,

&c._, ii. 323).

[162] _Life and Growth of Language_, p. 259.

[163] _Ibid._, p. 262.

[164] I may add that the hypothesis admits of corroboration from

sources not mentioned by its author. For Archdeacon Farrar wrote in

1865:—“The neglected children in some of the Canadian and Indian

villages, who are left alone for days, can and do invent for themselves

a sort of _lingua franca_, partially or wholly unintelligible to

all except themselves;” and he quotes Mr. R. Moffat as “testifying

to a similar phenomenon in the villages of South Africa (_Mission

Travels_).” He also alludes to the fact that “deaf-mutes have an

instinctive power to develop for themselves a language of signs,”

which, as we have seen in an earlier chapter, embraces the use of

arbitrary articulations, even though in this case the speakers cannot

themselves hear the sounds which they make.

While this work is passing through the press an additional paper has

been published by Dr. Hale, entitled, _The Development of Language_. It

supplies further evidence in support of this hypothesis.

[165] Wundt, _Vorlesungen, &c._, ii., 380, 381.

[166] Sayce, _Introduction to Science of Language_, ii, 13.

[167] The difference of opinion in question seems to arise from

individual prepossessions with regard to the ulterior question

whether or not the aboriginal roots of all languages must have been

polysyllabic. For my own part, and for the reasons already given, I can

see no presumption in favour of the view that primitive languages must

all have presented the “polysinthetic genius.”

[168] _Histoire des Langues Semitique_, p. 138.

[169] _Etymological Dictionary_, p. 746.

[170] See Max Müller, _Science of Thought_, p. 332.

[171] _Ibid._, p. 404.

[172] _Ethnologische Forschungen_, ii., s. 73, _et seq._ He here quotes

Varro to the effect that the roots of Latin amount to about a thousand.

[173] _Language and the Study of Language_, p. 256.

[174] Sayce, _Introduction to the Science of Language_, ii., p. 4.

[175] Geiger, _Ursprung der Sprache_, s. 16.

[176] Sayce, _loc. cit._, ii. p. 6.

[177] Wedgwood, _Etymol. Dict._, p. iii.

[178] Farrar, _Origin of Language_, p. 53.

[179] _Science of Thought_, p. 439.

[180] _Science of Thought_, p. 549.

[181] _Science of Thought_, pp. 551, 552.

[182] _Ibid._, pp. 551, 552.

[183] “The Aryan languages are the languages of a civilized race; the

parent speech to which we may inductively trace them was spoken by men

who stood on a relatively high level of culture” (Sayce, _Introduction,

&c._, i. 56). “The primitive tribe which spoke the mother-tongue

of the Indo-European family was not nomadic alone, but had settled

habitations, even towns and fortified places, and addicted itself in

part to the rearing of cattle, in part to the cultivation of the earth.

It possessed our chief domesticated animals—the horse, the ox, the

goat, and the swine, besides the dog: the bear and the wolf were foes

that ravaged its flocks; the mouse and the fly were already domestic

pests.... Barley, and perhaps also wheat, was raised for food, and

converted into meal. Mead was prepared from honey, as a cheering and

inebriating drink. The use of certain metals was known; whether iron

was one of them admits of question. The art of weaving was practised;

wool and hemp, and possibly flax, being the materials employed....

The weapons of offence and defence were those which are usual among

primitive peoples, the sword, spear, bow, and shield. Boats were

manufactured and moved by oars.... The art of numeration was learned,

at least up to a hundred; there is no general Indo-European word for

‘thousand.’ Some of the stars were noticed and named; the moon was the

chief measurer of time. The religion was polytheistic, a worship of

the personified powers of nature” (Whitney, _Language and the Study

of Language_, pp. 207, 208). For a more detailed account of this

interesting people, see Poescher, _Die Arier_.

[184] “Unsere Wurzeln sind die Urwurzeln nicht; wir haben vielleicht,

von keiner einzigen die erste, ursprüngliche Laut-form mehr vor uns,

ebensowenig wohl die Urbedeutung” (Geiger, _Ursprung der Sprache_, s.

65). And this opinion, so far as I know, is adopted as an axiom by all

other philologists.

[185] “It is impossible to bring down the epoch at which the Aryan

tribes still lived in the same locality, and spoke practically the same

language, to a date much later than the third millennium before the

Christian era” (Sayce, _Introduction_, _&c._, ii., p. 320).

[186] This fact alone would be sufficient to dispose of what I cannot

but consider, from any and every point of view, the transparent

absurdity of the doctrine that “the formation of thought is the first

and natural purpose of language, while its communication is accidental

only” (_Science of Thought_, p. 40). Such a “purpose” would imply

“thought” as already formed; and, therefore, the doctrine must suppose

a purpose to precede the conditions of its own possibility.

[187] I use the term “verbs” merely for the sake of brevity and

clearness. Of course there cannot have been verbs, strictly so-called,

before there were parts of speech of any kind. The more accurate

statement is given in the next sentence, and is the one which I desire

to be understood hereafter in the short-hand expression “verbs.”

[188] “It must be borne in mind that primitive man did not distinguish

between phenomena and volitions, but included everything under the head

of actions, not only the involuntary actions of human beings, such

as breathing, but also the movements of inanimate things, the rising

and setting of the sun, the wind, the flowing of water, and even such

purely inanimate phenomena as fire, electricity, &c.; in short, all

the changing attributes of things were conceived as voluntary actions”

(Sweet, _Words, Logic and Grammar_, p. 486).

[189] As a matter of fact, and as we shall subsequently see, there is

an immense body of purely philological evidence to show that verbs are

really a much later product of linguistic growth than either nouns or

pronouns. This is proved by their comparative paucity in many existing

languages of low development (their place being taken by pronominal

appositions, &c.); and also by tracing the origin of many of them to

other parts of speech. (See especially Garnett’s _Essays, Pritchard on

the Celtic Languages_, _Quart. Rev._, Sept. 1876; _The Derivation of

Words from Pronominal and Prepositional Roots_, _Proc. Philol. Soc._

vol. ii.; and _On the Nature and Analysis of the Verb_, ibid., vol.

iii.) Later on it will be shown that in the really primitive stages of

language-growth there is no assignable distinction between any of the

parts of speech. Archdeacon Farrar well remarks, “The invention of a

verb requires a greater effort of abstraction than that of a noun....

We cannot accept it as even _possible_ that from roots meaning _to

shine_, _to be bright_, names were formed for _sun_, _moon_, _stars_,

&c.... In some places, indeed, Professor Müller appears to hold the

correct view, that at first ‘roots’ stood for any and every part of

speech, just as the monosyllabic expressions of children do” (_Chapters

on Language_, pp. 196, 197; see, also, some good remarks on the subject

by Sir Graves Haughton, _Bengali Grammar_, p. 108).

[190] “Standst du dabei, als sich der Brust des noch stummen Urmenschen

der erste Sprachlaut entrang? und verstandst du ihn? Oder hat man

dir die Urwurzeln jener ersten Menschen vor hundert tausend Jahren

überliefert? Sind das, was du als Wurzeln hinstellst, und was wirklich

Wurzeln sein mögen, auch Wurzeln der Urzeit, unveränderte Reflexlaute?

Sind jene deine Wurzeln älter als sechstausend, als zehntausend Jahre?

und wie viel mögen sie sich in den früheren Jahrzehntausenden verändert

haben? wie mag sich ihre Bedeutung verändert haben?” (Steinthal,

_Zeits. b. Volkerpysch. u. Sprachwiss._, 1867, s. 76).

[191] _Supra_, p. 68, _et seq._

[192] _Ursprung der Sprache_, s. 74. To the same effect, and from

the side of psychology, I may quote Wundt:—“Oft hat man desshalb in

der Sprache einen Ubergang vom Abstrakten zum Konkreten zu finden

geglaubt, weil dieselbe thatsächlich zunächst umfassendere, dann

individuellere Vorstellungen bezeichnet und erst zuletzt wieder die

Namen individueller Objekte zu Gemeinnamen stempelt. Aber was am Anfang

dieser Reihe liegt ist etwas ganz anderes als was den Schluss derselben

bildet: Gemeinnamen sind wirkliche Zeichen für Allgemeinvorstellungen

und Begriffe. Jene ersten Vorstellungen, welche das Bewusstsein bildet

und die Sprache ausdrückt, sind nicht _Allgemein_vorstellungen sondern

_umfassende_ Vorstellungen. Beides ist wesentlich aus einander zu

halten” (_Vorlesungen, &c._, ii. 382). The passage then proceeds to

discuss the psychology of the subject.

[193] _Introduction, &c._, ii. 5, 6.

[194] And even as regards this minority (such as “to be,” “to think,”

“to do,” &c.), we must remember an important consideration on which

Geiger bestows a number of excellent pages. Briefly put, this

consideration is that the offspring of words are everywhere proved

to have progressively changed their meanings by successive steps and

in divergent lines: applying this general law to the case of roots,

it follows that the oldest meaning which philology is able to trace

as expressed by a root, need not be anywhere near the meaning which

attached to its remoter parents: the latter may have been much less

conceptual.

[195] Professor Max Müller says in one place, “The Science of Language,

by inquiring into the origin of general terms, has established two

facts of the highest importance, namely, first, that all terms were

originally general; and, secondly, that they could not be anything

but general” (_Science of Thought_, p. 456). Elsewhere, however, he

says, “Although during the time when the growth of language becomes

historical and most accessible, therefore, to our observation, the

tendency certainly is from the general to the special, I cannot

resist the conviction that before that time there was a pre-historic

period during which language followed an opposite direction. During

that period roots, beginning with special meanings, became more and

more generalized, and it was only after reaching that stage that they

branched off again into special channels” (_ibid._, pp. 383, 384).

Again, in his earlier work on the _Science of Language_ (vol. i.,

pp. 425-432), he argues in favour of terms having been aboriginally

general. It will thus be seen that with reference to this question he

is not consistent. Touching the first of his doctrines above quoted,

Geiger pertinently observes that against such a conclusion there lies

the obvious absurdity, that if a language were to consist exclusively

of general terms, it would be _ipso facto_ unintelligible to its own

speakers; “for what hope could there be of any mutual understanding

with a language comprising only such words as “to bind,” “to sound,”

&c.? (_Ursprung der Sprache_, s. 16). Clearly, Professor Max Müller’s

difficulties regarding this subject are quite imaginary, and would

disappear if he were to entertain the natural alternative that there is

no reason to suppose aboriginal words were exclusively restricted to

being either special or general—_i.e._ generic.

[196] Bunsen, _Philosophy of Universal History_, ii. 131.

[197] Professor Max Müller in all his works; but it is observable that

his opposition to what he calls the “bow-wow and pooh-pooh theory” was

more strenuous in his earlier publications than it is in his later.

[198] It is needless to say that innumerable instances might be quoted

of this metaphorical change in the meanings of words, even in existing

languages,—so much so, indeed, that, as Richter says, all languages

are but dictionaries of forgotten metaphors. For example, there is

a single Hebrew word of three letters which may bear any one of the

following significations:—to mix, to exchange, to stand in place of,

to pledge, to interfere, to be familiar, to disappear, to set, to do

a thing in the evening, to be sweet, a fly or beetle, an Arabian, a

stranger, the weft of cloth, the evening, a willow, and a raven. (See

Farrar, _Chapters on Language_, p. 229. He adds, “Assuming that all

these significations are ultimately deducible from one and the same

root, we see at once the extent to which metaphor must have been at

work.” For further examples of the same principle, see _ibid._, pp.

234, 251, 252.)

[199] _Science of Thought_, pp. 317, 318.

[200] Or, as Heyse puts it, many onomatopœias are not “old fruitful

roots of language, but modern inventions which remain isolated in

language, and are incapable of originating any families of words,

because their meaning is too limited and special to admit of a

manifold application” (_System_, s. 92, quoted by Farrar, _Chapters on

Language_, p. 152, who also shows that words of onomatopoetic origin

are not invariably sterile. When such origin is not so remote as to

have become wholly obscured by a widely connotative extension, it

does remain possible to trace its progeny through areas of smaller

extension).

[201] “Nichtsdestoweniger bleibt es eine wichtige psychologische

Thatsache, dass die Laute einen onomatopoetischen Werth haben, dass

wir diesen Werth heute noch fühlen. Nur ist dieses Gefühl nicht sicher

genug, um als wissenschaftlicher Beweis zu gelten, wie es denn auch bei

den verschiedenen Racen verschieden ist. Die Sprachen der mongolischen

Race haben zur Bezeichnung von Naturereignissen viele Onomatopöien,

welche wir nicht mitfühlen. Und das ist weder zu verwundern, noch ist

es ein Beweis gegen die geistige Einheit des Menschengeschlechtes. Das

Gefühl wird ja vielfach durch Associationen der Vorstellungen bestimmt.

Andere Associationen aber walten im Kaukasier, andere im Mongolen”

(_Zeits. b. Volkerpsych. u. Sprachwissen._, 1867, s. 76).

[202] _Introduction, &c._, i., p. 108. He points out that “_bilbit_,

_glut-glut_, and _puls_, are all attempts to represent the same sound.”

[203] _Chapters on Language_, p. 154.

[204] _Ueber Namen des Donners_, 1855.

[205] Steinthal’s _Zeitschrift_, &c.

[206] Professor Max Müller has argued that in the Indo-European

languages the apparently onomatopoetic words signifying “thunder” are

derived from the root _tan_, to “stretch,” and therefore were not of

imitative origin. But Farrar has satisfactorily met this objection,

even as regards this one particular case, by showing that even if not

originally onomatopoetic, these words afterwards “became so from a

feeling of the need that they should be” (_Origin of Language_, p. 82).

See also, _Chapters on Language_, pp. 178-182; Heyse, _System_, s. 93;

and Wundt, _Vorlesungen, &c._, ii. 396.

[207] See also Nodier, _Dictionnaire des Onomatopées_; and Wedgwood,

_Dictionary of English Etymology_.

[208] Probably the explanation of this apparent inconsistency is to be

found in the fact that Noiré’s special version of the onomatopoetic

theory comes within easy distance of a hypothesis which Max Müller had

himself previously sanctioned. This hypothesis, originally propounded

by Heyse in his _System der Sprachwissenschaft_, is that, just as

every inorganic substance in nature gives out a particular sound when

struck—metal one sound, wood another, stone another, &c.—so different

animals have inherent tendencies (or “instincts”) to emit distinctive

sounds. In the case of primitive man this inherent tendency was in the

direction of articulate speech. For my own part, I do not see that this

theory explains anything; and therefore agree with Geiger, who says of

it:—“Die Annahme eines jetzt erloschenen Vermögens der Sprachschöpfung

und die damit zusammenhängende von einem vollkommenen Urzustande des

Menschen ist eine Zuflucht zum Unbegreiflichen, und nicht weit von dem

Eingeständnisse entfernt, dass es uns der Natur der Dinge nach für

immer unmöglich sei, den wahren Sinn der Urwurzeln zu erkennen und den

Vorgang des Sprachursprunges zu erklären. Wir würden mit einer solchen

Annahme auf einen mystischen Standpunkt zurückgeführt sein, da doch

schon Herder das ‘Gespenst vom Wort Fähigkeit’ bekämpft und gesagt

hat: ‘Jch gebe den Menschen nicht gleich plötzlich neue Kräfte, keine

sprachschaffende Fähigkeit, wie eine willkürliche qualitas occulta’”

(_Ursprung der Sprache_, s. 24). Sayce, also, well remarks of this

hypothesis, “It really rests upon an _a priori_ conception of the

origin of speech, which is neither borne out by linguistic facts nor

easily intelligible.... Such a theory of language is plainly mystical”

(_Introduction to Science of Language_, vol. i., pp. 66, 67).

[209] _Encyclo. Brit._, art. “Philology,” vol. xviii., p. 769.

[210] See, for instance, Farrar, _Chapters on Language_, p. 184.

[211] See above, pp. 138-144.

[212] See above, pp. 121, 122.

[213] See _Vorlesungen, &c._, ii. 394, 395.

[214] See above, pp. 132-136.

[215] _Introduction to the Science of Language_, ii. 302.

[216] See above, pp. 138-143.

[217] _Der Ursprung der Sprache_, s. 31. His own answer to the

question is as follows:—“Sind die Wörter Produkte der Natur order der

Willkür? Beides und beides nicht. Kein Wort hat naturnothwendig seine

bestimmte Bedeutung; insofern sind sie alle willkürlich: aber keines

ist zu seiner Bedeutung durch menschliche Willensthätigkeit gekommen”

(_ibid._, s. 113).

[218] Schelling, _Einl. in die Philos. d. Mythologie_, s. 51.

[219] _Anthropologie der Naturvölker_, i., 272. See also, F. Müller,

_Grundriss der Sprachwissenshaft_, I. i. 49.

[220] _Science of Language_, ii. 91, 92.

[221] _Grund. d. Sprachwiss._, i., 43.

[222] _Ægypten_, i. 324.

[223] Sayce, _Introduction, &c._, i. 119, 120.

[224] _Science of Thought_, 423-440.

[225] Sayce, _Introduction, &c._, i. 111.

[226] _Ibid._, i. 113, 114.

[227] Sayce, _Introduction, &c._, i. 121.

[228] _Science of Thought_, p. 242.

[229] Garnett, _Philolo. Essays_, p. 87.

[230] _Ibid._, 77, 78.

[231] Farrar, _Origin of Language_, p. 99. The passage continues,

“We might have conjectured this from the fact already noticed, that

children learn to speak of themselves in the third person—_i.e._

regard themselves as objects—long before they acquire the power of

representing their material selves as the instrument of an abstract

entity.” He also alludes to “some admirable remarks to this effect in

Mr. F. Whalley Harper’s excellent book on the _Power of Greek Tenses_;”

and recurs to the subject in his more recently published _Chapters on

Language_, p. 62. I could quote other authorities who have commented

upon this philological peculiarity of early pronouns; but will only

add the following in order to show how the peculiarity in question may

continue to survive even in languages still spoken. “The Malay _ulun_,

‘I,’ is still ‘a man’ in Lampong, and the Kawi _ugwang_, ‘I,’ cannot

be separated from _nwang_, ‘a man’” (Sayce, _Introduction_, ii. 26).

Lastly, Wundt has pointed out that this impersonal form of speech is

distinctive, not only of early pronominal elements, but also of early

forms of predication. For instance, “Die ersten Urtheile, die in das

Bewusstsein hereinbrechen, _subjektlose_ Urtheile sind, und dass die

Prädikate derselben stets eine sinnliche Vorstellung ausdrücken. ‘Es

leuchtet es glänzt, es tönt,’—solcher Art sind die Urtheile, die

der Mensch zuerst denkt und zuerst ausspricht. Jenes Prädikat, dass

sogleich bei der Wahrnehmung eines Gegenstandes sich aufdrängt, wird

zur Bezeichnung des Gegenstandes selber. ‘Das Leuchtende, Glänzende,

Tönende,’—solcher Art find die Wörter, die ursprünglich in der Sprache

gebildet werden” (_loc. cit._, ii. 377).

[232] _Science of Thought_, p. 221.

[233] _Ibid._, p. 554.

[234] _Ibid._, 241.

[235] Sayce, _Introduction, &c._, ii. 25; see also to the same effect,

Bleek, _Ursprung der Sprache_, 70-72; F. Müller, _Grundriss der

Sprachwissenshaft_, I., i., s. 40; and Noiré, _Logos_, p. 186. The

chief ground of this scepticism is that it is difficult to conceive how

a word could ever have gained a footing if it did not from the first

present some independent predicative meaning. But it seems to me that

the force of this objection is removed if we remember the sounds which

are arbitrarily invented by young children and uneducated deaf-mutes,

not to mention the inarticulate clicks of the Bushmen. Moreover, there

is nothing inimical to the pronominal theory in the supposition that

pronominal elements, even of the most aboriginal kind, were survivals

of still more primitive sentence-words—a supposition which would of

course remove the difficulty in question. But, as explained in the

text, this difficulty, even if it could not be thus met, would really

not be one of any importance to my exposition.

[236] _Introduction, &c._, i. 117.

[237] _Introduction, &c._, ii. 301. Or, as Wundt puts it, “Die

demonstrative Wurzel ist daher eine demonstrirende Pantomime in einen

Laut übersetzt” (_Vorlesungen, &c._, ii. 392).

[238] Sayce, _Introduction, &c._, i. 415. See also F. Müller, _loc.

cit._, I. i. 2, p. 2, for another statement of the same facts referred

to by Sayce.

[239] Sayce, _Introduction, &c._, i. 416.

[240] Sweet, _Words, Logic, and Grammar_, in _Trans. Philo. Soc._,

1867, p. 493.

[241] _Science of Thought_, p. 442.

[242] See especially Garnett, _On the Nature and Analysis of the Verb_.

[243] _Science of Thought_, p. 223.

[244] _Ibid._, p. 442.

[245] Sayce, _Introduction, &c._

[246] I refer the reader to what is said on both these aspects of the

verb in question by my opponents (see pp. 165-167.)

[247] Farrar, _Origin of Language_, pp. 105, 106.

[248] Garnett, _On the Nature and Analysis of the Verb_, _Proc. Philo.

Soc._, vol. iii.

[249] Sayce, _Introduction, &c._, i. 415.

[250] Geiger, _Development of the Human Race_, English trans., p. 22.

[251] Sweet, _Words, Logic, and Grammar_, in _Trans. Philol. Soc._,

1876, pp. 486, 487.

[252] Sweet, _loc. cit._, pp. 489, 490.

[253] Bleek, _Ursprung der Sprache_, s. 69, 70.

[254] _Science of Thought_, p. 241.

[255] Steinthal, _Charakteristik, &c._, 165, 173.

[256] Garnett, _Philological Essays_, p. 310.

[257] _Ibid._, p. 311.

[258] _Ibid._, p. 312.

[259] _Ibid._, p. 314.

[260] See Chapter on Speech, p. 166.

[261] I may remark that it was Aristotle who first fell into the error

of identifying the copula with the verb _to be_, by which it happens

to be expressed in Greek. For many centuries afterwards this error

was a fruitful source of endless confusions; but it is curious to

find a wholly new fallacy springing from it in the latter half of the

nineteenth century. Touching the subject and predicate, Aristotle, of

course, never contemplated any more primitive relation between them

than that which obtained in the only forms of speech with which he

was acquainted. As regards his “categories” the following remarks by

Professor Max Müller are worth quoting:—

“These categories, which proved of so much utility to the early

grammarians, have a still higher interest to the students of the

science of language and thought. Whereas Aristotle accepted them simply

as the given forms of predication in Greek, after that language had

become possessed of the whole wealth of its words, we shall have to

look upon them as representing the various processes by which those

Greek words, and all our own words and thoughts, too, first assumed

a settled form. While Aristotle took all his words and sentences as

given, and simply analyzed them in order to discover how many kinds of

predication they contained, we ask how we ever came into possession of

such words as _horse_, _white_, _many_, _greater_, _here_, _now_, _I

stand_, _I fear_, _I cut_, _I am cut_. Anybody who is in possession

of such words can easily predicate, but we shall now have to show

that every word by itself was from the first a predication, and that

it formed a complete sentence by itself. To us, therefore, the real

question is, how these primitive sentences, which afterwards dwindled

away into mere words, came into existence. The true categories, in

fact, are not those which are taught by grammar, but those which

produced grammar, and it is these categories which we now proceed to

examine” (_Science of Thought_, p. 439).

[262] Sayce, _Introduction, &c._, ii. 229. He adds, “Had Aristotle been

a Mexican, his system of logic would have assumed a wholly different

form.”

[263] _Introduction, &c._, i, 15.

[264] In these considerations I find myself able largely to reconcile

what has always been regarded as a contradiction between the views

of Professor Whitney and those of other philologists on the subject

of sentence-words. Partly following Schleicher—who maintains the

doctrine still more unequivocally—he regards the word as having

been historically prior to the sentence. This, of course, is in

contradiction to the doctrine of the sentence having been historically

prior to the word, which, as we have seen, is the doctrine now held

by philologists in general. But, now, what the latter doctrine

really amounts to is, that words were sentences before they were

names—predicative before they were nominative; and, as I understand

it, Whitney’s objection to this doctrine is really raised on grounds of

psychology. If so, the above considerations show that he is perfectly

right. Intellectually, primitive man was fully capable of acquiring the

use of words as names; and, therefore, psychologically considered, it

was only an accident of social environment which prevented him from so

doing.

[265] _Science of Thought_, pp. 432, 433.

[266] Pp. 281, 282, note.

[267] _Ursprung der Sprache_, s. 65. For the original German, see the

passage as previously quoted on page 273, note.

[268] As pointed out in a previous chapter, curious ambiguity attaches

to this term. For, as used in biology, it means the _hitherto

undifferentiated_, while in psychology and elsewhere a “generalization”

means the _synthetically integrated_. But, as psychologists never speak

of ideas as “generalized,” I here use the word in its biological sense.

[77] For meaningless articulation by idiots, see Scott’s _Remarks on