Origin of

Human Faculty,!

George John Romanes

Prof. Romanes, who died suddenly at Oxford on May 23, was
born in Kingston, Canada, on May 20, 1848. He spent his boyhood
in England, France, Germany and Italy, receiving his early educa-
tion from tutors and in private schools. In 1867 he entered Gon-
ville and Caius College, Cambridge, graduated in natural science]
in 1S70, and was Burney Prize Essayist in 1873 and Croonian Lec-
turer to the Royal Society in 1875. He was made a Fellow of the
Royal Society in 1879, and in 1881 received the honorary degree
of LL.D. from the University of Aberdeen. He was made Fullerian
Professor of Physiology in the Royal Institution of London in
1889, and was also Rosebery Lecturer on Natural History in the
University of Edinburgh. While at Cambridge he formed an inti-
mate acquaintance with Charles Darwin, and afterward continued
to be an ardent member of the Darwinian School, which he rein-
forced effectively in his lectures and works, the long list of which
includes " Christian Prayer and General Laws : with Appendix on
the Physical Efficacy of Prayer " (1873) ; "A Candid Examination
of Theism" (1878); "Observations on the Locomotor System of
Medusa' " (1 878-1 880) ; "Animal Intelligence " (1881) ;" Charles
Darwin : his Character and Life " ; " The Scientific Evidences of
Organic Evolution" (1882); "Mental Evolution in Animals"
(i 883) ; " Jelly-Fish, Star Fish and Sea-Urchins : Nervous Systems "
(1885); " .Mental Evolution in Man "(1888); "Darwin and after
Darwin" (1892); and "Examination of Weismannism " (1893).
Besides these books, he contributed numerous papers, published in
the periodicals, to the progress of science and philosophy.

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MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN

BV THE SAME AUTHOR.

Croivn Szo. ^s.
JELLY-FISH, STAR-FISH, AND SEA-
URCHINS.
Being a Research on Primitive Nervous Systems.

\^I)iter}iational Scientific Scries.

Croivn "ivo. ^s.

ANIMAL INTELLIGENCE.

Fourth Edition.

[hiternational Scientific Series.

Demy ?>vo. I2s.

MENTAL EVOLUTION IN ANIMALS.

Second Thousand.

^Vith a Posthumous Essay on Instinct by

Charles Darwin, F.R.S.

London : Kegan Paul, Trench & Co.

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5

MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN

ORIGIN OF HUMAN FACULTY

GEORGE JOHN ROMANES, M.A., LL.D., F.R.S.

LONDON"

KKGAN I'AUL, TRENCH & CO., i, I'ATERNOSTER SQUARE

( The rights of translation and of rcjiroditction are f-escrfed.")

PREFACE.

In now carrying my study of mental evolution into the
province of human psychology, it is desirable that I should
say a few words to indicate the scope and intention of this
the major portion of my work. For it is evident that " Mental
Evolution in Man " is a subject comprehending so enormous
a field that, unless some lines of limitation are drawn within
which its discussion is to be confined, no one writer could
presume to deal with it.

The lines, then, which I have laid down for my own
guidance are these. My object is to seek for the principles
and causes of mental evolution in man, first as regards
the origin of human faculty, and next as regards the several
main branches into which faculties distinctively human after-
wards ramified and developed. In order as far as possible
to gain this object, it has appeared to me desirable to take
large or general views, both of the main trunk itself, and also of
its sundry branches. Therefore I have throughout avoided the
temptation of following any of the branches into their smaller
ramifications, or of going into the details of progressive
development. These, I have felt, are matters to be dealt
with by others who are severally better qualified for the task,
whether their special studies have reference to language,
archaeology, technicology, science, literature, art, politics,
morals, or religion. But, in so far as I shall subsequently
have to deal with these subjects, I will do so with the purpose
of arriving at general principles bearing upon mental evolu-
tion, rather than with that of collecting facts or opinions for

2051151

VI PREFACE.

the sake of their intrinsic interest from a purely historical
point of view.

Finding that the labour required for the investigation,
even as thus limited, is much greater than I originally
anticipated, it appears to me undesirable to delay publication
until the whole shall have been completed. I have therefore
decided to publish the treatise in successive instalments, of
which the present constitutes the first. As indicated by the
title, it is concerned exclusively with the Origin of Human
Faculty. Future instalments will deal with the Intellect,
Emotions, Volition, Morals, and Religion, It will, however, be
several years before I shall be in a position to publish these
succeeding instalments, notwithstanding that some of thein
are already far advanced.

Touching the present instalment, it is only needful to
remark that from a controversial point of view it is, perhaps,
the most important. If once the genesis of conceptual thought
from non-conceptual antecedents be rendered apparent, the
great majority of competent readers at the present time
would be prepared to allow that the psychological barrier
between the brute and the man is shown to have been over-
come. Consequently, I have allotted what might otherwise
appear to be a disproportionate amount of space to my
consideration of this the origin of human faculty — dis-
proportionate, I mean, as compared with what has afterwards
to be said touching the development of human faculty in its
several branches already named. Moreover, in the present
treatise I shall be concerned chiefly with the psychology of
my subject — reserving for my next instalment a full con-
sideration of the light which has been shed on the mental and
social condition of early man by the study of his own remains
on the one hand, and of existing savages on the other. Even
as thus restricted, however, the subject-matter of the present
treatise will be found more extensive than most persons
would have been prepared to expect. For it does not appear
to me that this subject-matter has hitherto received at the
hands of psychologists any approach to the amount of

PREFACE. VI 1

analysis of which it is susceptible, and to which — in view of
the general theory of evolution — it is unquestionably entitled.
But I have eveiywhere endeavoured to avoid undue prolixity,
trusting that the intelligence of any one who is likely to read
the book will be able to appreciate the significance of
important points, without the need of expatiation on the part
of the writer. The only places, therefore, where I feel that
I may be fairly open to the charge of unnecessary reitera-
tion, are those in which I am endeavouring to render fully
intelligible the newer features of my analysis. But even here
I do not anticipate that readers of any class will complain of
the efforts which are thus made to assist their understanding
of a somewhat complicated matter.

As no one has previously gone into this matter, I have
found myself obliged to coin a certain number of new terms,
for the purpose at once of avoiding continuous circumlocution,
and of rendering aid to the analytic inquiry. For my own
part I regret this necessity, and therefore have not resorted
to it save where I have found the force of circumstances
imperative. In the result, I do not think that adverse
criticism is likely to fasten upon any of these new terms as
needless for the purposes of my inquiry. Every worker is
free to choose his own instruments ; and when none are
ready-made to suit his requirements, he has no alternative
but to fashion those which may.

To any one who already accepts the general theory of
evolution as applied to the human mind, it may well appear
that the present instalment of my work is needlessly elaborate.
Now, I can quite .sympathize with any evolutionist who may
thus feel that I have brought steam-engines to break
butterflies ; but I must ask such a man to remember two
things. First, that plain and obvious as the truth may seem
to him, it is nevertheless a truth that is very far from having
received general recognition, even among more intelligent
members of the community : seeing, therefore, of how much
importance it is to establish this truth as an integral part of
the doctrine of descent, I cannot think that either time or

VI II PREFACE.

energy is wasted in a serious endeavour to do so, even though
to minds already persuaded it may seem unnecessary to have
slain our opponents in a manner quite so mercilessly minute.
Secondly, I must ask these friendly critics to take note that,
although the discussion has everywhere been thrown into the
form of an answer to objections, it really has a much wider
scope : it aims not only at an overthrow of adversaries, but
also, and even more, at an exposition of the principles
which have probably been concerned in the " Origin of
Human P'aculty."

The Diagram which is reproduced from my previous work
on " Mental Evolution in Animals," and which serves to
represent the leading features of psychogenesis throughout
the animal kingdom, will re-appear also in succeeding instal-
ments of the work, when it will be continued so as to represent
the principal stages of " Mental Evolution in Man."

i8, Cornwall Terrace, Regent's Park,
July, 1888.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER PAGE

I. Man axd Brute ... ... ... ... i

II. Ideas ... ... ... ... ... 20

III. Logic of Recepts ... ... ... .. 40

I\'. Logic of Concepts ... ... ... 70

y. Language ... ... ... ... .. 85

VI. Tone and Gesture ... ... ... 104.

\'II. Articulation ... ... ... ... 121

\'III. Relation of Tone and Gesture to Words 145

IX. Speech ... ... ... ... ... 163

X. Self-Consciousness .... ... ... 194

XI. The Transition in the Individual ... ... 213

XII. Comparative Philologv ... ... ... 238

XIII. Roots of Language .. ... .... ... 264

XI\'. The Witness of Philology ... ... 294

X\'. The Witness of Philology— con/iui/ed ... 326

XVI. The Transition in the Race ... ... 360

X\'II. General SUiMMarv and Concluding Remarks 390

MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

CHAPTER I.

MAN AND BRUTE.

Taking up the problems of psychogenesis where these were
left in my previous work, I have in the present treatise to
consider the whole scope of mental evolution in man. Clearly
the topic thus presented is so large, that in one or other of its
branches it might be taken to include the whole history of
our species, together with our pre-historic development from
lower forms of life, as already indicated in the Preface. How-
ever, it is not my intention to write a history of civilization,
still less to develop any elaborate hypothesis of anthropogeny.
My object is merely to carry into an investigation of human
psychology a continuation of the principles which I have
already applied to the attempted elucidation of animal psycho-
logy. I desire to show that in the one province, as in the
other, the light which has been shed by the doctrine of evolu-
tion is of a magnitude which we are now only beginning to
appreciate ; and that by adopting the theory of continuous
development from the one order of mind to the other, wc are
able scientifically to explain the whole mental constitution of
man, even in those parts of it which, to former generations,
have appeared inexplicable.

In order to accomplish this purpose, it is not needful that
I should seek to enter upon matters of detail in the applica-
tion of those principles to the facts of history. On the contrary,

15

2 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

I think that any such endeavour — even were I quaUfied to
make it — would tend only to obscure my exposition of those
principles themselves. It is enough that I should trace the
operation of such principles, as it were, in outline, and leave
to the professed historian the task of applying them in special
cases.

The present work being thus a treatise on human psycho-
logy in relation of the theory of descent, the first question
which it must seek to attack is clearly that as to the evidence
of the mind of man having been derived from mind as we
meet with it in the lower animals. And here, I think, it is
not too much to say that we approach a problem which is not
merely the most interesting of those that have fallen within
the scope of my own works ; but perhaps the most interesting
that has ever been submitted to the contemplation of our
race. If it is true that " the proper study of mankind is
man," assuredly the study of nature has never before reached
a territory of thought so important in all its aspects as that
which in our own generation it is for the first time approach-
ing. After centuries of intellectual conquest in all regions of
the phenomenal universe, man has at last begun to find that
he may apply in a new and most unexpected manner the
adage of antiquity — Know thyself. For he has begun to per-
ceive a strong probability, if not an actual certainty, that his
own living nature is identical in kind with the nature of all
other life, and that even the most amazing side of this his own
nature— nay, the most amazing of all things within the reach of
his knowledge — the human mind itself, is but the topmost
inflorescence of one mighty growth, whose roots and stem and
many branches are sunk in the abyss of planetary time.
Therefore, with Professor Huxley we may say : — " The impor-
tance of such an inquiry is indeed intuitively manifest.
Brought face to face with these blurred copies of himself, the
least thoughtful of men is conscious of a certain shock, due
perhaps not so much to disgust at the aspect of what looks
like an insulting caricature, as to the awaking of a sudden
and profound mistrust of time-honoured theories and strongly

MAN AND BRUTE. 3

rooted prejudices regarding his own position in nature, and
his relations to the wider world of life ; while that which
remains a dim suspicion for the unthinking, becomes a vast
argument, fraught with the deepest consequences, for all
who are acquainted with the recent progress of anatomical
and physiological sciences." *

The problem, then, which in this generation has for the first
time been presented to human thought, is the problem of how
this thought itself has come to be. A question of the deepest
importance to every system of philosophy has been raised by
the study of biology ; and it is the question whether the mind
of man is essentially the same as the mind of the lower
animals, or, having had, either wholly or in part, some other
mode of origin, is essentially distinct — differing not only in
degree but in kind from all other types of psychical being.
And forasmuch as upon this great and deeply interesting
question opinions are still much divided — even among those
most eminent in the walks of science who agree in accepting
the principles of evolution as applied to explain the mental
constitution of the lower animals, — it is evident that the
question is neither a superficial nor an easy one. I shall,
however, endeavour to examine it with as little obscurity as
possible, and also, I need hardly say, with all the impartiality
of which I am capable, f

It will be remembered that in the introductory chapter of
my previous work I have already briefly sketched the manner
in which I propose to treat this question. Here, therefore, it
is sufficient to remark that I began by assuming the truth of
the general theory of descent so far as the animal kingdom

* Man^s Place in Nature, p. 59.

t It is perhaps desirable to explain from the first that by tlio words " difference
of kind," as used in the above paragraph and elsewhere throughout this treatise,
I mean difference of origin. This is the only real distinction that can be drawn
between the terms " difference of kind " and " difference of degree ; " and I should
scarcely have deemed it worth while to give the definition, had it not been for the
confused manner in which the terms are used by some writers — e.g. Professor
Sayce, who says, while speaking of the development of languages from a common
source, " differences of degree become in time differences of kind " {^Introduction
to the .^^cience of Language, ii. 309).

4 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

is concerned, both with respect to bodily and to mental
organization ; but in doing this I expressly excluded the
mental organization of man, as being a department of com-
parative psychology with reference to which I did not feel
entitled to assume the principles of evolution. The reason
why I made this special exception, I sufficiently explained ;
and I shall therefore now proceed, without further introduction,
to a full consideration of the problem that is before us.

First, let us consider the question on purely a priori
grounds. In accordance with our original hypothesis — upon
which all naturalists of any standing are nowadays agreed —
the process of organic and of mental evolution has been
continuous throughout the whole region of life and of mind,
with the one exception of the mind of man. On grounds of
analogy, therefore, we should deem it antecedently improbable
that the process of evolution, elsewhere so uniform and
ubiquitous, should have been interrupted at its terminal phase.
And looking to the very large extent of this analogy, the
antecedent presumption which it raises is so considerable, that
in my opinion it could only be counterbalanced by some very
cogent and unmistakable facts, showing a difference between
animal and human psychology so distinctive as to render it in
the nature of the case virtually impossible that the one could
ever have graduated into the other. This I posit as the first
consideration.

Next, still restricting ourselves to an a priori view, it is
unquestionable that human psychology, in the case of every
individual human being, presents to actual observation a
process of gradual development, or evolution, extending from
infancy to manhood ; and that in this process, which begins
at a zero level of mental life and may culminate in genius,
there is nowhere and never observable a sudden leap of
progress, such as the passage from one order of psychical being
to another might reasonably be expected to show. Therefore,
it is a matter of observable fact that, whether or not human
intelligence differs from animal in kind, it certainly does

MAN AND BRUTE. 5

admit of gradual development from a zero level. This I posit
as the second consideration.

Again, so long as it is passing through the lower phases
of its development, the human mind assuredly ascends through
a scale of mental faculties which are parallel with those that
are permanently presented by the psychological species of the
animal kingdom. A glance at the Diagram which I have
placed at the beginning of my previous work will serve to
show in how strikingly quantitative, as well as qualitative, a
manner the development of an individual human mind
follows the order of mental evolution in the animal kingdom.
And when we remember that, at all events up to the level
where this parallel ends, the diagram in question is not an
expression of any psychological theory, but of well-observed
and undeniable psychological fact, I think every reasonable
man must allow that, whatever the explanation of this
remarkable coincidence may be, it certainly must admit of
some explanation — i.e. cannot be ascribed to mere chance.
But, if so, the only explanation available is that which is
furnished by the theory of descent. These facts, which I
present as a third consideration, tend still further — and,
I think, most strongly — to increase the force of antecedent
presumption against any hypothesis which supposes that the
process of evolution can have been discontinuous in the region
of mind.

Lastly, it is likewise a matter of observation, as I shall
fully show in the next instalment of this work, that in the
history of our race — as recorded in documents, traditions,
antiquarian remains, and flint implements — the intelligence of
the race has been subject to a steady process of gradual
development. The force of this consideration lies in its
proving, that if the process of mental evolution was suspended
between the anthropoid apes and primitive man, it was again
resumed with primitive man, and has since continued as un-
interruptedly in the human species as it previously did in the
animal species. Now, upon the face of these facts, or from
a merely antecedent point of view, such appears to me, to say

6 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

the least, a highly improbable supposition. At all events, it
certainly is not the kind of supposition which men of science
are disposed to regard with favour elsewhere ; for a long and
arduous experience has taught us that the most paying kind of
supposition which we can bring with us into our study of nature,
is that which recognizes in nature the principle oi continuity.

Taking, then, these several a priori considerations together,
they must, in my opinion, be fairly held to make out a very
strong prima facie case in favour of the view that there has
been no interruption of the developmental process in the
course of psychological history ; but that the mind of man,
like the mind of animals— and, indeed, like everything else in
the domain of living nature — has been evolved. For these
considerations show, not only that on analogical grounds any
such interruption must be held as in itself improbable ; but
also that there is nothing in the constitution of the human
mind incompatible with the supposition of its having been
slowly evolved, seeing that not only in the case of every
individual life, but also during the whole history of our species,
the human mind actuall}- does undergo, and lias undergone,
the process in question.

In order to overturn so immense a presumption as is thus
erected on a priori grounds, the psychologist must fairly be
called upon to supply some very powerful considerations of
an a posteriori kind, tending to show that there is something
in the constitution of the human mind which renders it
virtually impossible — or at all events exceedingly difficult to
imagine — that it can have proceeded by way of genetic
descent from mind of lower orders. I shall therefore proceed
to consider, as carefully and as impartially as I can, the
arguments which have been adduced in support of this thesis.

In the introductory chapter of my previous work I
obscr\-ed, that the question whether or not human intelligence
has been evolved from animal intelligence can only be dealt
with scientifically by comparing the one with the other, in
order to ascertain the points wherein they agree and the points

MAN AND BRUTE. 7

wherein they differ. I shall, therefore, here begin by briefly
stating the points of agreement, and then proceed more care-
fully to consider all the more important views which have
hitherto been propounded concerning the points of difference.

If we have regard to Emotions as these occur in the
brute, we cannot fail to be struck by the broad fact that the
area of psychology which they cover is so nearly co-extensive
with that which is covered by the emotional faculties of man.
In my previous works I have given what I consider unquestion-
able evidence of all the following emotions, which I here name
in the order of their appearance through the psychological
scale, — fear, surprise, affection, pugnacity, curiosity, jealous}',
anger, play, sympathy, emulation, pride, resentment, emotion
of the beautiful, grief, hate, cruelty, benevolence, revenge, rage,
shame, regret, deceitfulness, emotion of the ludicrous.*

Now, this list exhausts all the human emotions, with the
exception of those which refer to religion, moral sense, and
perception of the sublime. Therefore I think we are fully
entitled to conclude that, so far as emotions are concerned, it
cannot be said that the facts of animal psychology raise any
difficulties against the theory of descent. On the contrary,
the emotional life of animals is so strikingly similar to the
emotional life of man — and especially of young children —
that I think the similarity ought fairly to be taken as direct
evidence of a genetic continuity between them.

And so it is with regard to Instinct. Understanding this
term in the sense previously defined,t it is unquestionably
true that in man — especially during the periods of infancy
and youth — sundry well-marked instincts are presented,
which have reference chiefly to nutrition, self-preservation,
reproduction, and the rearing of progeny. No one has

* See Men/al Evolution in Aiii»tals, chapter on tlie Emotions.

t Mental Evoltilion in Animals, p. 159. "The term is a generic one, com-
prising all the faculties of mind which are concerned in conscious and adaptive
action, antecedent to individual experience, without necessary knowledge of the
relation between means employed and ends attained, but similarly performed
under similar and frequently recurring circumstances by all individuals of the
same species."

8 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IN MAN.

ventured to dispute that all these instincts are identical with
those which we observe in the lower animals ; nor, on the
other hand, has any one ventured to suggest that there is any-
instinct which can be said to be peculiar to man, unless the
moral and religious sentiments are taken to be of the nature
of instincts. And although it is true that instinct plays a
larger part in the psychology of many animals than it does
in the psychology of man, this fact is plainly of no importance
in the present connection, where we are concerned only with
identity of principle. If any one were childish enough to
argue that the mind of a man differs in kind from that of a
brute because it does not display any particular instinct —
such, for example, as the spinning of webs, the building of
nests, or the incubation of eggs, — the answer of course would
be that, by parity of reasoning, the mind of a spider must be
held to differ in kind from that of a bird. So far, then, as
instincts and emotions are concerned, the parallel before us is
much too close to admit of any argument on the opposite side.

With regard to Volition more will be said in a future
instalment of this work. Here, therefore, it is enough to say,
in general terms, that no one has seriously questioned the
identity of kind between the animal and the human will, up
to the point at which so-called freedom is supposed by some
dissentients to supervene and characterize the latter. Now,
of course, if the human will differs from the animal will in
any important feature or attribute such as this, the fact must
be duly taken into account during the course of our subsequent
analysis. At present, however, we are only engaged upon a
preliminary sketch of the points of resemblance between
animal and human psychology. So far, therefore, as we are
now concerned with the will, we have only to note that up to
the point where the volitions of a man begin to surpass those
of a brute in respect of complexity, refinement, and foresight,
no one disputes identity of kind.

Lastly, the same remark applies to the faculties of Intellect*

* Of course my opponents will not allow that this word can be properly
applied to the psychology of any brute. But I am not now using it in a question-

MAN AND BRUTE. 9

Enormous as the difference undoubtedly is between these
faculties in the two cases, the difference is conceded not to be
one of kind ab initio. On the contrary, it is conceded that up
to a certain point — namely, as far as the highest degree of
intelligence to which an animal attains — there is not merely
a similarity of kind, but an identity of correspondence.
In other words, the parallel between animal and human
intelligence which is presented in my Diagram, and to which
allusion has already been made, is not disputed. The
question, therefore, only arises with reference to those super-
added faculties which are represented above the level marked
28, where the upward growth of animal intelligence ends, and
the growth of distinctively human intelligence begins. But
even at level 28 the human mind is already in possession of
many of its most useful faculties, and these it does not after-
wards shed, but carries them upwards with it in the course of
its further development — as we well know by observing the
psychogenesis of every child. Now, it belongs to the very
essence of evolution, considered as a process, that when one
order of existence passes on to higher grades of excellence,
it does so upon the foundation already laid by the previous
course of its progress ; so that when compared with any
allied order of existence which has not been carried so far in
this upward course, a more or less close parallel admits of
being traced between the two, up to the point at which the
one begins to distance the other, Avhere all further comparison
admittedly ends. Therefore, upon the face of them, the facts
of comparative psychology now before us are, to say the
least, strongly suggestive of the superadded powers of the
human intellect having been due to a process of evolution.

Lest it should be thought that in this preliminary sketch
of the resemblances between human and brute psychology I
have been endeavouring to draw the lines with a biased hand,

begging sense : I am using it only to avoid tiic otherwise necessary cxpediL-nt of
coining a new term. Whatever view we may tal<e as to the relations between
human and animal psychology, we must in some way distinguish between the
different ingredients of each, and so between the instinct, the emotion, and the
intelligence of an animal. See Mental Evolution in Animah, p. 335, el scq.

10 ME XT A L EVOLUTIOX IN MAX.

I will here quote a short passage to show that I have not
misrepresented the extent to which agreement prevails
among adherents of otherwise opposite opinions. And for
this purpose I select as spokesman a distinguished naturalist,
who is also an able psychologist, and to whom, therefore, I
shall afterwards have occasion frequently to refer, as on both
these accounts the most competent as well as the most
representative of my opponents. In his Presidential Address
before the Biological Section of the British Association in
1879, Mr. Mivart is reported to have said : —

" I have no wish to ignore the marvellous powers of
animals, or the resemblance of their actions to those of man.
No one can reasonably deny that many of them have feelings,
emotions, and sense-perceptions similar to our own ; that
they exercise voluntary motion, and perform actions grouped
in complex ways for definite ends ; that they to a certain
extent learn by experience, and combine perceptions and
reminiscences so as to draw practical inferences, directly
apprehending objects standing in different relations one to
another, so that, in a sense, they may be said to apprehend
relations. They will show hesitation, ending apparently,
after a conflict of desires, with what looks like choice or
volition ; and such animals as the dog will not only exhibit
the most marvellous fidelity and affection, but will also
manifest evident signs of shame, which may seem the outcome
of incipient moral perceptions. It is no great wonder, then,
that so many persons, little given to patient and careful
introspection, should fail to perceive any radical distinction
between a nature thus gifted and the intellectual nature of man."

We may now turn to consider the points wherein human and
brute psychology have been by various writers alleged to differ.

The theory that brutes are non-sentient machines need
not detain us, as no one at the present day is likely to
defend it.* Again, the distinction between human and brute

* If any one should be disposed to do so, I can only reply to him in the words
of Professor Huxley, who puts the case tersely and well :— " What is the value of

MAN AND BRUTE. II

psychology that has always been taken more or less for
granted — namely, that the one is rational and the other
irrational — may likewise be passed over after what has been
said in the chapter on Reason in my previous work. For it
is there shown that if we use the term Reason in its true, as
distinguished from its traditional sense, there is no fact in
animal psychosis more patent than that this psychosis is capable
in no small degree of ratiocination. The source of the very
prevalent doctrine that animals have no germ of reason is,
I think, to be found in the fact that reason attains a much
higher level of development in man than in animals, while
instinct attains a higher development in animals than in man :
popular phraseology, therefore, disregarding the points of
similarity while exaggerating the more conspicuous points
of difference, designates all the mental faculties of the animal
instinctive, in contradistinction to those of man, which are
termed rational. But unless we commit ourselves to an
obvious reasoning in a circle, we must avoid assuming that
all actions of animals are instinctive, and then arguing that,
because they are instinctive, therefore they differ in kind from
those actions of man which are rational. The question really
lies in what is here assumed, and can only be answered by
examining in what essential respect instinct differs from
reason. This I have endeavoured to do in my previous work
with as much precision as the nature of the subject permits ;
and I think I have made it evident, in the first place, that
there is no such immense distinction between instinct and
reason as is generally assumed — the former often being

the evidence which leads one to believe that one's fellow-man feels ? The only
evidence in this argument from analogy is the similarity of his structure and of
his actions to one's own, and if that is good enough to prove that one's fellow-man
feels, surely it is good enough to prove that an ape feels," etc. {Critiqties and
Addresses, p. 282). To this statement of the case Mr. Mivart offers, indeed, a
criticism, but it is one of a singularly feeble character. He says, "Surely it is
not by similarity of structure or actions, but by language that men are placed
in communication with one another." To this it seems sufficient to ask, in the
first place, whether language is not action ; and, in the next, whether, as ex-
pressive of suffering, articulate speech is regarded by us as more "eloquent"
than inarticulate cries and gestures?

12 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

blended with the latter, and the latter as often becomnig
transmuted into the former, — and, in the next place, that all
the higher animals manifest in various degrees the faculty of
inferring. Now, this is the faculty of reason, properly so called ;
and although it is true that in no case does it attain in
animal psychology to more than a rudimentary phase of
development as contrasted with its prodigious growth in
man, this is clearly quite another matter where the question
before us is one concerning difference of kind.*

Again, the theological distinction between men and
animals may be passed over, because it rests on a dogma with
which the science of psychology has no legitimate point of
contact. Whether or not the conscious part of man differs
from the conscious part of animals in being immortal, and
whether or not the " spirit " of man differs from the " soul " of
animals in other particulars of kind, dogma itself would main-
tain that science has no voice in either affirming or denying.
For, from the nature of the case, any information of a positive
kind relating to these matters can only be expected to come
by way of a Revelation ; and, therefore, however widely dogma
and science may differ on other points, they are at least agreed
upon this one — namely, if the conscious life of man differs thus
from the conscious life of brutes, Christianity and Philosophy
alike proclaim that only by a Gospel could its endowment
of immortality have been brought to light.!

Another distinction between the man and the brute which
wet often find asserted is, that the latter shows no signs of

* Of course where the term Reason is intended to signify Introspective
Thought, the above remarks do not apply, further than to indicate the misuse of
the term.

t I here neglect to consider the view of Bishop Butler, and others who have
followed him, that animals may have an immortal principle as well as man ; for,
if this view is maintained, it sen'es to identify, not to separate, human and brute
psycholog}'. The dictum of Aristotle and Buffon, that animals differ from man in
having no power of mental apprehension, may also be disregarded ; for it appears
to be sufficiently disposed of by the following remark of Bureau de la Malle,
which I here quote as presenting some historical interest in relation to the theorj'
of natural selection. He says : "Si les animaux n'etaient pas susceptibles
d'apprendre les moyens de se conserver, les especes se seraient aneanties."

MAN AND BRUTE. 1 3

mental progress in successive generations. On this alleged
distinction I may remark, first of all, that it begs the whole
question of mental evolution in animals, and, therefore, is
directly opposed to the whole body of facts presented in my
work upon this subject. In the next place, I may remark
that the alleged distinction comes with an ill grace from
opponents of evolution, seeing that it depends upon a recog-
nition of the principles of evolution in the history of mankind.
But, leaving aside these considerations, I meet the alleged dis-
tinction with a plain denial of both the statements of fact on
which it rests. That is to say, I deny on the one hand that
mental progress from generation to generation is an invariable
peculiarity of human intelligence ; and, on the other hand,
I deny that such progress is never found to occur in the case
of animal intelligence.

Taking these two points separately, I hold it to be a state-
ment opposed to fact to say, or to imply, that all existing
savages, when not brought into contact with civilized man,
undergo intellectual development from generation to genera-
tion. On the contrary, one of the most generally applicable
statements we can make with reference to the psychology of
uncivilized man is that it shows, in a remarkable degree, what
we may term a vis iiierticB as regards upward movement.
Even so highly developed a type of mind as that of the
Negro — submitted, too, as it has been in millions of individual
cases to close contact with minds of the most progressive type,
and enjoying as it has in many thousands of individual cases
all the advantages of liberal education — has never, so far as I
can ascertain, executed one single stroke of original work in
any single department of intellectual activity.

Again, if we look to the whole history of man upon this
planet as recorded by his remains, the feature which to my
mind stands out in most marked prominence is the almost
incredible slowness of his intellectual advance, during all the
earlier millenniums of his existence. Allowing full weight to
the consideration that "the Palaeolithic age, referring as the
phrase does to a stage of culture, and not to any chronological

I^ ME XT A L EVOLUTION- IN MAN.

period, is somcthincj which has come and gone at very-
different dates in different parts of the world ; " * and that the
same remark may be taken, in perhaps a smaller measure, to
apply to the Neolithic age ; still, when we remember what
enormous lapses of time these ages may be roughly taken to
represent, I think it is a most remarkable fact that, during the
many thousands of years occupied by the former, the human
mind should have practically made no advance upon its
primitive methods of chipping flints ; or that during the time
occupied by the latter, this same mind should have been so
slow in arriving, for example, at even so simple an invention
as that of substituting horns for flints in the manufacture of
weapons. In my next volume, where I shall have to deal
especially with the evidence of intellectual evolution, I shall
have to give many instances, all tending to show its extra-
ordinarily slow progress during these sons of prehistoric time.
Indeed, it was not until the great step had been made of sub-
stituting metals for both stones and horns, that mental
evolution began to proceed at anything like a measurable
rate. Yet this was, as it were, but a matter of yesterday. So
that, upon the whole, if we have regard to the human species
generally — whether over the surface of the earth at the present
time, or in the records of geological history, — we can no longer
maintain that a tendency to improvement in successive
generations is here a leading characteristic. On the contrary,
any improvement of so rapid and continuous a kind as that
which is really contemplated, is characteristic only of a small
division of the human race during the last few hours, as it
were, of its existence.

On the other hand, as I have said, it is not true that
animal species never display any traces of intellectual improve-
ment from generation to generation. Were this the case, as
already remarked, mental evolution could never have taken
place in the brute creation, and so the phenomena of mind
would have been wholly restricted to man : all animals would
have required to present but a vegetative form of life. But,

* John Fiske, Excursions of an Evolutionist, pp. 42, 43 (1SS4).

MAN AND BRUTE. I 5

apart from this general consideration, we meet with many
particular instances of mental improvement in successive
generations of animals, taking place even within the limited
periods over which human observations can extend. In my
previous work numerous cases will be found (especially in the
chapters on the plasticity and blended origin of instincts),
showing that it is quite a usual thing for birds and mammals
to change even the most strongly inherited of their instinctive
habits, in order to improve the conditions of their life in
relation to some change which has taken place in their
environments. And if it should be said that in such a case
" the animal still does not rise above the level of birdhood or of
beasthood," the answer, of course, is, that neither does a
Shakespeare or a Newton rise above the level of manhood.

On the whole, then, I cannot see that there is any valid
distinction to be drawn between human and brute psychology
with respect to improvement from generation to generation.
Indeed, I should deem it almost more philosophical in any
opponent of the theory of evolution, who happened to be
acquainted with the facts bearing upon the subject, if he were
to adopt the converse position, and argue that for the pur-
poses of this theory there is not a sufficient distinction between
human and brute psychology in this respect. For when we
remember the great advance which, according to the theory
of evolution, the mind of palaeolithic man must already have
made upon that of the higher apes, and when we remember
that all races of existing men have the immense advantage
of some form of language whereby to transmit to progeny the
results of individual experience, — when we remember these
things, the difficulty appears to me to lie on the side of
explaining why, with such a start and with such advantages,
the human species, both when it first appears upon the pages
of geological history, and as it now appears in the great
majority of its constituent races, should so far resemble
animal species in the prolonged stagnation of its intellectual
life.

I shall now pass on to consider the views of Mr. Wallace

1 6 MENTAL EVOLUTION JN HI AN.

and Mr. Mivart on the distinction between the mental endow-
ments of man and of brute. Both these authors are skilled
naturalists, and also professed evolutionists so far as the
animal world is concerned : moreover, they further agree in
maintaining that the principles of evolution cannot be held
to apply to man. But it is curious that, so far as psychology
is concerned, they base their arguments in support of their
common conclusion on precisely opposite premisses. For
while Mr. Mivart argues that human intelligence cannot be
the same in kind as animal intelligence, because the mind of
the lowest savage is incomparably superior to that of the
highest ape ; Mr. Wallace argues for the same conclusion on
the ground that the intelligence of savages is so little removed
from that of the higher apes, that the fact of their brains being
proportionately larger must be held to point prospectiv^ely
towards the needs of civilized life. "A brain," he says,
"slightly larger than that of the gorilla would, according to
the evidence before us, fully have sufficed for the limited
mental development of the savage ; and we must therefore
admit that the large brain he actually possesses could never
have been developed solely by any of the laws of evolution." *

* Natural Selection, p. 343. It will subsequently appear, as a general conse-
quence of our investigation of savage psychology, that of these two opposite
opinions the one advocated by Mr. Mivart is best supported by facts. But I may
here adduce one or two considerations of a more special nature bearing upon this
point. First, as to cerebral structure, the case is thus summed up by Professor
Huxley : — " The difference in weight of brain between the highest and the lowest
man is far greater, both relatively and absolutely, than that between the lowest
man and the highest ape. The latter, as has been seen, is represented by, say
12 ounces of cerebral substance absolutely, or by 32: 20 relatively ; but, as the
largest recorded human brain weighed between 65 and 66 ounces, the former
difference is represented by more than 33 ounces aljsolutely, or by 65 : 32 relatively.
Regarded systematically, the cerebral differences of man and apes are not of more
than generic value — his family distinction resting chiefly on his dentition, his
pelves, and his lower limbs " [Man^s Place in Nature, p. 103). Next, concerning
ctr&hxoX function, Mr. Chauncey Wright well remarks : — "A psychological analysis
of the faculty of language shows that even the smallest proficiency in it might
require more brain power than the greatest proficiency in any other direction "
(North American Revieiv, Oct. 1870, p. 295). After quoting this, Mr. Darwin
observes of savage man, " He has invented and is able to use various weapons,
tools, traps, &c., with which he defends himself, kills or catches prey, and other-

MAN AND BRUTE. 1/

Now, I have presented these two opinions side by side be-
cause I deem it an interesting, if not a suggestive circumstance,
that the two leading dissenters in this country from the general
school of evolutionists, although both holding the doctrine that
man ought to be separated from the rest of the animal
kingdom on psychological grounds, are nevertheless led to
their common doctrine by directly opposite reasons.

The eminent French naturalist, Professor Quatrefages, also
adopts the opinion that man should be separated from the
rest of the animal kingdom as a being who, on psychological
grounds, must be held to have had some different mode of
origin. But he differs from both the English evolutionists in
drawing his distinction somewhat more finely. For while
Mivart and Wallace found their arguments upon the mind
of man considered as a whole, Quatrefages expressly limits
his ground to the faculties of conscience and religion. In
other words, he allows — nay insists — that no valid distinction
between man and brute can be drawn in respect of rationality
or intellect. For instance, to take only one passage from his
writings, he remarks : — " In the name of philosophy and
psychology, I shall be accused of confounding certain
intellectual attributes of the human reason with the exclusively
sensitive faculties of animals. I shall presently endeavour
to answer this criticism from the standpoint which should
never be quitted by the naturalist, that, namely, of experiment
and observation. I shall here confine myself to saying that,
in my opinion, the animal is intelligent, and, although an
(intellectually) rudimentary being, that its intelligence is
nevertheless of the same nature as that of man." Later on
he says : — " Psychologists attribute religion and morality to

wise obtains food. He has made rafts or canoes for fishing, or crossing over to
neighbouring fertile islands. He has discovered the art of making fire. . . .
Those several inventions, by wliich man in the rudest state has become so pre-
eminent, are the direct results of the development of his powers of observation,
memory, curiosity, imagination, and reason. I cannot, therefore, understand
how it is that Mr. Wallace maintains that 'natural selection could only have
endowed the savage with a brain a little superior to that of an ape' " {Descent of
Man, pp. 48, 49).

C

I 8 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAM.

the reason, and make the latter an attribute of man (to the
exclusion of animals). But with the reason they connect the
highest phenomena of the intelligence. In my opinion, in so
doing they confound, and refer to a common origin, facts
entirely different. Thus, since they are unable to recognize
either morality or religion in animals, which in reality do not
possess these two faculties, they are forced to refuse them
intelligence also, although the same animals, in my opinion,
give decisive proof of their possession of this faculty every
moment."*

Touching these views I have only two things to observe.
In the first place, they differ toto ccelo from those both of Mr.
Wallace and Mr. Mivart ; and thus we now find that the tJwee
principal authorities who still stand out for a distinction of
kind between man and brute on grounds of psychology, far
from being in agreement, are really in fundamental opposition,
seeing that they base their common conclusion on premisses
which are all mutually exclusive of one another. In the next
place, even if we were fully to agree with the opinion of the
French anthropologist, or hold that a distinction of kind has
to be drawn only at religion and morality, we should still be
obliged to allow — although this is a point which he does not
himself appear to have perceived — that the sujoeriority of
human intelligence is a necessary condition to both these
attributes of the human mind. In other words, whether or
not Ouatrcfages is right in his view that religion and morality
betoken a difference of kind in the only animal species which
presents them, at least it is certain that neither of these
faculties could have occurred in that species, had it not also
been gifted with a greatly superior order of intelligence. For
even the most elementary forms of religion and morality
depend upon ideas of a much more abstract, or intellectual,
nature than are to be met w^ith in any brute. Obviously,
therefore, the first distinction that falls to be considered is the
intellectual distinction. If analysis should show that the
school represented by Quatrefages is right in regarding this

* The Llitman Species, English trans., p. 22.

MAN AND BRUTE. 19

distinction as one of degree — and, therefore, that the school
represented by Mivart is wrong in regarding it as one of kind, —
the time will then have arrived to consider, in the same con-
nection, these special faculties of morality and religion. Such,
therefore, is the method that I intend to adopt. The whole of
the present volume will be devoted to a consideration of " the
origin of human faculty " in the larger sense of this term, or
in accordance with the view that distinctively human faculty
begins with distinctively human ideation. When this matter
has been thoroughly discussed, the ground will have been
prepared for considering in subsequent volumes the more
special faculties of Morality and Religion.*

* Sundry other and still more special distinctions of a psychological kind have
been alleged by various writers as obtaining between man and the lower animals —
such as making fire, employing barter, wearing clothes, using tools, and so forth.
But as all these distinctions are merely particular instances, or detailed illustrations,
of the more intelligent order of ideation which belongs to mankind, it is needless
to occupy space with their discussion. Here, also, I may remark that in this
work I am not concerned with the popular objection to Darwinism on account of
" missing-links," or the absence of fossil remains structurally intermediate between
those of man and the anthropoid apes. This is a subject that belongs to palaeon-
tology, and, therefore, its treatment would be out of place in these pages. Never-
theless, I may here briefly remark that the supposed difficulty is not one of any
magnitude. Although to the popular mind it seems almost self-evident that if
there ever existed a long series of generations connecting the bodily structure of
man with that of the higher apes, at least some few of their bones ought now to
be forthcoming ; the geologist too well knows how little reliance can be placed on
such merely negative testimony where the record of geology is in question.
Countless other instances may now be quoted of connecting links having been
but recently found between animal groups which are zoologically much more
widely separated than are apes and men. Indeed, so destitute of force is this
popular objection held to be by geologists, that it is not regarded by them as
amounting to any objection at all. On the other hand, the close anatomical
resemblance that subsists between man and the higher apes — every bone, muscle,
nerve, vessel, etc., in the enormously complex structure of the one coinciding,
each to each, with the no less enormously complex structure of the other — speaks
so voluminously in favour of an uninterrupted continuity of descent, that, as before
remarked, no one who is at all entitled to speak upon the subject has ventured to
dispute this continuity so far as the corporeal structure is concerned. All the few
naturalists who still withhold their assent from the theory of evolution in its
reference to man, expressly base their opinion on those grounds of psychology
which it is the object of the ])rescnt treatise to investigate.

MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

CHAPTER II.

IDEAS. *

I NOW pass on to consider the only distinction which in my
opinion can be properly drawn between human and brute
psychology. This is the great distinction which furnishes a
full psychological explanation of all the many and immense
differences that unquestionably do obtain between the mind
of the highest ape and the mind of the lowest savage. It is,
moreover, the distinction which is now universally recognized
by psychologists of every school, from the Romanist to the
agnostic in Religion, and from the idealist to the materialist
in Philosophy.

The distinction has been clearly enunciated by many
writers, from Aristotle downwards, but I may best render it in
the words of Locke : —

" If it may be doubted, whether beasts compound and
enlarge their ideas that way to any degree ; this I think I
may be positive in, that the power of abstracting is not at all
in them ; and that the having of general ideas is that which
puts a perfect distinction betwixt man and brutes, and is an
excellency which the faculties of brutes do by no means attain

* In my previous work I devoted a chapter to " Imagination," in which I
treated of the psychology of ideation so far as animals are concerned. It is now
needful to consider ideation with reference to man ; and, in order to do this, it is
further needful to revert in some measure to the ideation of animals. I will, how-
ever, try as far as possible to avoid repeating myself, and therefore in the three
following chapters I will assume that the reader is already acquainted with my
previous work. Indeed, the argument running through the three following
chapters cannot be fully appreciated unless their perusal is preceded by that f
chapters ix. and x. of Mental Evolution in Animals.

IDEAS. 21

to. For it is evident we observe no footsteps in them of
making use of general signs for universal ideas ; from which
we have reason to imagine, that they have not the faculty of
abstracting, or making general ideas, since they have no use
of words, or any other general signs.

"Nor can it be imputed to their want of fit organs to frame
articulate sounds that they have no use or knowledge of general
Avords ; since many of them, we find, can fashion such sounds,
and pronounce words distinctly enough, but never with any
such application ; and, on the other side, men, who through
some defect in the organs want words, yet fail not to express
their universal ideas by signs, which serve them instead of
general words ; a faculty which we see beasts come short in.
And therefore I think we may suppose, that it is in this that
the species of brutes are discriminated from men ; and it is
that proper difference wherein they are wholly separated, and
which at last widens to so vast a distance ; for if they have
any ideas at all, and are not bare machines (as some would
have them), we cannot deny them to have some reason. It
seems evident to me, that they do some of them in certain
instances reason, as that they have sense ; but it is only in
particular ideas, just as they received them from their senses.
They are the best of them tied up within those narrow bounds,
and have not (as I think) the faculty to enlarge them by any
kind of abstraction." *

* Human Understanding, bk. ii., chap, ii., lo, ii. To this passage Berkeley
objected that it is impossible to form an abstract idea of quality as apart from any
concrete idea of object ; e.g. an idea of motion distinct from that of any body
moving. (See Principles of Human Knozvledge, Introd. vii.-xix.). This is
a point which I cannot fully treat without going into the philosophy of the
great discussion on Nominalism, Realism, and Conceptualism — a matter which
would take me beyond the strictly psychological limits within which I desire to
confine my work. It will, therefore, be enough to point out that Berkeley's
criticism here merely amounts to showing that Locke did not pursue sufficiently
far his philosophy of Nominalism. What Locke did was to see, and to slate, that
a general or abstract idea embodies a perception of likeness between indiviihials
of a kind while disregarding the differences ; what he failed to do was to take the
further step of showing that such an idea is not an idea in the sense of being a
mental image ; it is merely an intellectual symbol of an actually impossible
existence, namely, of quality apart from <jlijcct. Intellectual symbolism of this

22 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

Here, then, we have stated, with all the common-sense
lucidity of this great writer, what we may term the initial or
basal distinction of which we are in search : it is that " proper
difference" which, narrow at first as the space included be-
tween two lines of rails at their point of divergence, "at last
widens to so vast a distance" as to end almost at the opposite
poles of mind. For, by a continuous advance along the same
line of development, the human mind is enabled to think
about abstractions of its own making, which are more and
more remote from the sensuous perception of concrete objects;
it can unite these abstractions into an endless variety of ideal
combinations ; these, in turn, may become elaborated into
ideal constructions of a more and more complex character ;
and so on until we arrive at the full powers of introspective
thought with which we are each one of us directly cognisant.

We now approach what is at once a matter of refined
analysis, and a set of questions which are of fundamental
importance to the whole superstructure of the present work.
I mean the nature of abstraction, and the classification of
ideas. No small amount of ambiguity still hangs about these
important subjects, and in treating of them it is impossible to
employ terms the meanings of which are agreed upon by all
psychologists. But I will carefully define the meanings which
I attach to these terms myself, and which I think arc the
meanings that they ought to bear. Moreover, I will end by
adopting a classification which is to .some extent novel, and
by fully giving my reasons for so doing.

Psychologists are agreed that what they call particular

kind is performed mainly through the agency of verbal or other conventional signs
(as we shall see later on), and it is owing to a clearer understanding of this
process that Realism was gradually vanquished by Nominalism. The only
difference, then, between Locke and Berkeley here is, that the nominalism of the
former was not so complete or thorough as that of the latter. I may remark that
if in the following discussion I appear to fail in distinctly setting forth the doctrine
of nominalism, I do so only in order that my investigation may avoid needless
collision with conceptualism. For myself I am a nominalist, and agree with Mill
that to say we think in concepts is only another way of saying that we think in
class names.

IDEAS. 23

ideas, or ideas of particular objects, are of the nature of mental
images, or memories of such objects — as when the sound of a
friend's voice brings before my mind the idea of that particu-
lar man. Psychologists are further agreed that what they
term general ideas arise out of an assemblage of particular
ideas, as when from my repeated observation of numerous
individual men I form the idea of Man, or of an abstract being
who comprises the resemblances between all these individual
men, without regard to their individual differences. Hence,
particular ideas answer to percepts, while general ideas answer
to concepts : an individual preception (or its repetition) gives
rise to its mnemonic equivalent as a particular idea ; while a
group of similar, though not altogether similar perceptions,
gives rise to its mnemonic equivalent as a conception, which,
therefore, is but another name for a general idea, thus gene-
ratedhy an assemblage of particular ideas. Just as Mr. Galton's
method of superimposing on the same sensitive plate a
number of individual images gives rise to a blended photo-
graph, wherein each of the individual constituents is partially
and proportionally represented ; so in the sensitive tablet of
memory, numerous images of previous perceptions are fused
together into a single conception, which then stands as a
composite picture, or class-representation, of these its con-
stituent images. Moreover, in the case of a sensitive plate it
is only those particular images which present more or less
numerous points of resemblance that admit of being thus
blended into a distinct photograph ; and so in the case of the
mind, it is only those particular ideas which admit of being run
together in a class that can go to constitute a clear concept.*
So much, then, for ideas as particular and general. Next,
the term abstract has been used by different psychologists
in different senses. For my own part, I will adhere to
the usage of Locke in the passage above quoted, which is
the usage adopted by the majority of modern writers upon
these subjects. According to this usage, the term "abstract

* This simile has been previously used by Mr. Gallon himself, and also by Mr.
Huxley in his work on Hume.

24 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

idea " is practically synonymous with the term " general
idea." For the process of abstraction consists in mentally
analysing the complex which is presented by any given
object of perception, and ideally extracting those features or
qualities upon which the attention is for the time being
directed. Even the most individual of objects cannot fail to
present an assemblage of qualities, and although it is true
that such an object could not be divided into all its
constituent qualities actually, it docs admit of being so
divided ideally. The individual man whom I know as John
Smith could not be disintegrated into so much heat, flesh,
bone, blood, colour, &c., without ceasing to be a man at all ;
but this does not hinder that I may ideally abstract his heat
(by thinking of him as a corpse), his flesh, bones, and
blood (by thinking of him as a dissected "subject"), his white
colour of skin, his black colour of hair, and so forth. Now,
it is evident that in the last resort our power of forming
general ideas, or concepts, is dependent on this power of
abstraction, or the power of ideally separating one or more
of the qualities presented by percepts, i.e. by objects of
particular ideas. My general idea of heat has only been
rendered possible on account of my having ideally abstracted
the quality of heat from sundry heated bodies, in most of
which it has co-existed with numberless different associations
of other qualities. But this does not hinder that, wherever
I meet with that one quality, I recognize it as the same ; and
hence I arrive at a general or abstract idea of heat, apart
from any other quality with which in particular cases it may
happen to be associated.*

This faculty of ideal abstraction furnishes the conditio sine

* Hence, the only valid distinction that can be drawn between abstraction and
generalization is that which has been drawn by Hamilton, as follows : " Abstrac-
tion consists in concentration of attention upon a particular object, or particular
quality of an object, and diversion of it from everything else. The notion of the
figure of the desk before me is an abstract idea — an idea that makes part of the
total notion of that body, and on which I have concentrated my attention, in order
to consider it exclusively. This idea is abstract, but it is at the same time
individual : it represents the figure of this particular desk, and not the figure of
any other body." Generalization, on the other hand, consists in an ideal

IDEAS. 25

qua lion to all grades in the development of thought ; for by
it alone can we compare idea with idea, and thus reach ever
onwards to higher and higher levels, as well as to more and
more complex structures of ideation. As to the history of
this development we shall have more to say presently.
Meanwhile I desire only to remark two things in connection
with it. The first is that throughout this history the develop-
ment is a dcvclopinent : the faculty of abstraction is every-
where the same in kind. And the next thing is that this
development is everywhere dependent on the faculty of
language. A great deal will require to be said on both these
points in subsequent chapters ; but it is needful to state the
facts thus early — and they are facts which psychologists of
all schools now accept, — in order to render intelligible the
next step which I am about to make in my classification of
ideas. This step is to distinguish between the faculty of
abstraction where it is not dependent upon language, and
where it is so dependent. I have just said that the faculty
of abstraction is eveiywhei'e the same in kind ; but, as I
immediately proceeded to afiirm that the development of
abstraction is dependent upon language, I have thus far left
the question open whether or not there can be any
rudimentary abstraction without language. It is to this
question, therefore, that we must next address ourselves.

compounding of abstractions, "when, comparing a number of objects, we seize on
their resemblances ; when we concentrate our attention on these points of
similarity. . . . The general notion is thus one which makes us know a quality,
property, power, notion, relation, in short, any point of view under which we
recognize a plurality of objects as a unity." Thus, there may be abstraction
without generalization ; but inasmuch as abstraction has then to do only with
particulars, this phase of it is disregarded by most writers on psychology, who
therefore employ abstraction and generalization as convertible terms. Mill says,
" By abstract I shall always, in Logic proper, mean the opposite oi concrete ; by an
abstract name the name of an attribute ; by a concrete name, the name of an
object " {Logic, i. § 4). Such limitation, however, is arbitrary — it being the same
kind of mental act to "concentrate attention upon a particular object" as it is to
do so upon any "particular quality of an object." Of course in this usage Mill is
following the schoolmen, and he expressly objects to the change first introduced
(apparently) by Locke, and since generally adopted. But it is of little consequence
in which of the two senses now exjilained a writer chooses to employ the word
"abstract," provided he is consistent in his own usage.

26 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

On the one hand it may be argued that by restricting- the
term abstract to ideas which can only be formed by the aid of
language, we are drawing an arbitrary line — fixing upon one
degree in the continuous scale of a faculty which is throughout
the same in kind. For, say some psychologists, it is evident
that in our own case most of our more simple abstract or
general ideas are not dependent for their existence upon words.
Or, if this be disputed, these psychologists are able to point to
infants, and even to the lower animals, in proof of their as-
sertion. For an infant undoubtedly exhibits the possession
of simple general ideas prior to the possession of any articulate
language ; and after it begins to use such language it does so
by spontaneously widening the generality of signification at-
taching to its original words. In proof of both these state-
ments numberless observations might be quoted, and further
on will be quoted ; but here I need only wait to give one in
proof of each. As regards the first, Professor Preyer tells us
that at eight months old,* and therefore long before it was
able to speak, his child was able to classify all glass bottles
as resembling — or belonging to the order of — a feeding-bottle.f
As regards the second, M. Taine tells us of a little girl
eighteen months old, who was amused by her mother hiding
in play behind a piece of furniture, and saying " Coucou."
Again, when her food was too hot, when she went too near
the fire or candle, and when the sun was warm, she was told
" ^a brule." One day, on seeing the sun disappear behind a
hill, she exclaimed, *' 'A b'ule coucou," thereby showing both
the formation and combination of general ideas, "not only
expressed by words which we do not employ (and, therefore,
not by any other words that she can have previously em-
ployed), but also corresponding to ideas, consequently to classes

* The age here mentioned closely corresponds with that which is given by
M. Perez, who says : — "At seven months he compares better than at three ; and
he appears at this age to have visual perceptions associated with ideas of kind:
for instance, he connects the different flavours of a piece of bread, of a cake, of
fruit, with their different forms and colours " {First Three Years of Childhood,
English trans., p. 31).

t Die Seele des A'iiides, s. 87.

IDEAS. 27

of objects and general characters which in our cases have dis-
appeared. The hot soup, the fire on the hearth, the flame of
the candle, the noonday heat in the garden, and last of all, the
sun, make up one of these classes. The figure of the nurse
or mother disappearing behind a hill, form the other class." *
Coming next to the case of brutes, and to begin with the
simplest kind of illustrations, all the higher animals have
general ideas of "Good-for-eating," and "Not-good-for-eating,"
quite apart from any particular objects of which either of these
qualities happens to be characteristic. For, if we give any of
the higher animals a morsel of food of a kind which it has
never before met with, the animal does not immediately snap
it up, nor does it immediately reject our offer ; but it subjects
the morsel to a careful examination before consigning it to
the mouth. This proves, if anything can, that such an
animal has a general or abstract idea of sweet, bitter, hot, or, in
general, Good-for-eating and Not-good-for-eating — the motives
of the examination clearly being to ascertain which of these
two general ideas of kind is appropriate to the particular
object examined. When we ourselves select something which
we suppose will prove good to eat, we do not require to call
to our aid any of that higher class of abstract ideas for which
we are indebted to our powers of language : it is enough to
determine our decision if the particular appearance, smell, or
taste of the food makes us feel that it probably conforms to
our general idea of Good-for-eating. And, therefore, when
we see animals determining between similar alternatives by
precisely similar methods, we cannot reasonably doubt that
the psychological processes are similar ; for, as we know that
these processes in ourselves do not involve any of the higher
powers of our minds, there is no reason to doubt that the
processes, which in their manifestations appear so similar,
really are what they appear to be — the same. Again, if I see
a fox prowling about a farm-yard, I infer that he has been
led by hunger to go where he has a general idea that there
arc a good many eatable things to be fallen in with — ^just
* Tainc, /ittelUgcnce, p. 18.

28 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

as I myself am led by a similar impulse to visit a restaurant.
Similarly, if I say to my dog the word " Cat," I arouse in his
mind an idea, not of any cat in particular — for he sees so
many cats, — but of a Cat in general. Or when this same dog
accidentally crosses the track of a strange dog, the scent of
this strange dog makes him stiffen his tail and erect the hair
on his back in preparation for a fight ; yet the scent of an
unknown dog must arouse in his mind, not the idea of any
dog in particular, but an idea of the animal Dog in general.

Thus far, it will be remembered, I have been presenting
evidence in favour of the view that both infants and animals
show themselves capable of forming general ideas of a simple
order, and, therefore, that to the formation of such ideas the
use of language is not essential. I will next consider what
has to be said on the other side of the question ; for, as pre-
viously remarked, many — I may say most — psychologists
repudiate this kind of evidence i7i toto, as not germain to the
subject of debate. First, therefore, I will consider their ob-
jections to this kind of evidence ; next I will sum up the whole
question ; and, lastly, I will suggest a classification of ideas
which in my opinion ought to be accepted by both sides as
constituting a common ground of reconciliation.

To begin with another quotation from Locke, " How far
brutes partake in this faculty \_i.e. that of comparing ideas] is
not easy to determine ; I imagine they have it not in any
great degree : for though they probably have several ideas
distinct enough, yet it seems to me to be the prerogative of
human understanding, when it has sufficiently distinguished
any ideas, so as to perceive them to be perfectly different, and
so consequently two, to cast about and consider in what cir-
cumstances they are capable to be compared : and therefore
I think beasts compare not their ideas further than some
sensible circumstances annexed to the objects themselves.
The other power of comparing, which may be observed in
men, belonging to general ideas, and useful only to abstract
reasonings, we may probably conjecture beasts have not.

"The next operation we may observe in the mind about

IDEAS. 29

its ideas, is composition ; whereby it puts together several of
those simple ones it has received from sensation and reflection,
and combines them into complex ones. Under this head of
composition may be reckoned also that of enlarging ; wherein,
though the composition does not so much appear as in more
complex ones, yet it is nevertheless a putting several ideas
together, though of the same kind. Thus, by adding several
units together, we make the idea of a dozen ; and by putting
together the repeated ideas of several perches, we frame that
of a furlong.

" In this, also, I suppose, brutes come far short of men ; for
though they take in, and retain together several combinations
of simple ideas, as possibly the shape, smell, and voice of his
master make up the complex idea a dog has of him, or rather
are so many distinct marks whereby he knows him ; yet I do
not think they do of themselves ever compound them, and
make complex ideas. And perhaps even where vv^e think they
have complex ideas, it is only one simple one that directs
them in the knowledge of several things, which possibly they
distinguish less by sight than we imagine ; for I have been
credibly informed that a bitch will nurse, play with, and be
fond of young foxes, as much as, and in place of, her puppies ;
if you can but get them once to suck her so long, that her
milk may go through them. And those animals, which have
a numerous brood of young ones at once, appear not to have
any knowledge of their number : for though they are mightily
concerned for any of their young that are taken from them
whilst they are in sight or hearing ; yet if one or two be stolen
from them in their absence, or without noise, they appear
not to miss them, or have any sense that their number is
lessened." *

Now, from the whole of this passage, it is apparent that
the "comparing," "compounding," and " enlarging" of ideas
which Locke has in view, is the conscious or intentional com-
paring, compounding, and enlarging that belongs only to the
province of reflection, or thought. He in no way concerns
* Unman Understanding, bk. ii., ch. ii., §§ 5-7.

30 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

liimsclf with such powers of " comparing and compounding of
ideas" as he allows that animals present, unless it can be
shown that animals are able to " cast about and consider in
what circumstances they are capable to be compared." And
tlien he adds, " Therefore, I think, beasts compare not their
idQdiS further than sonic sensible circiiuistaiices annexed to the
objects themselves. The other power of comparing, which may
be observed in men, belonging to general ideas, and usefnl only
to abstract reasonings, we may probably conjecture beasts hav^e
not." So far, then, it seems perfectly obvious that Locke
believed animals to present the power of "comparing and
compounding " " simple ideas," up to the point where such
comparison and composition begins to be assisted by the
power of reflective thought. Therefore, when he immediately
afterwards proceeds to explain abstraction thus : " The same
colour being observed to-day in chalk or snow, which the
mind yesterday received from milk, it considers that appear-
ance alone, makes it a representative of all of that kind ; and
having given it the name whiteness, it by that sound signifies
the same quality, wheresoever it be imagined or met with ;
and thus universals, whether ideas or terms, are made " — when
he thus proceeds to explain abstraction, we can have no
doubt that what he means by abstraction is the power of
ideally contemplating qualities as separated from objects, or,
as he expresses it, " considermg appearances alone." Therefore
I conclude, without further discussion, that in the terminology
of Locke the word abstraction is applied only to those higher
developments of the faculty which arc rendered possible by
reflection.

Now, on what does this power of reflection depend ? As
we shall see more fully later on, it depends on Language, or
on the power of affixing names to abstract and general ideas.
So far as I am aware, psychologists of all existing schools
are in agreement upon this point, or in holding that the
power of affixing names to abstractions is at once the condition
to reflective thought, and the explanation of the difference
between man and brute in respect of ideation.

IDEAS. 3 1

It seems needless to dwell upon a matter where all are
agreed, and concerning which a great deal more will require
to be said in subsequent chapters. At present I am only
endeavouring to ascertain the ground of difference between
those psychologists who attribute, and those who deny to
animals the faculty of abstraction. And I think I am now
in a position to render this point perfectly clear. As we have
already seen, and we shall frequently see again, it is allowed
on all hands that animals in their ideation are not shut up
to the special imaging (or remembering) of particular per-
ceptions ; but that they do present the power, as Locke
phrases it, of " taking in and retaining together several
combinations of simple ideas." * The only question, then,
really is whether or not this power is the power of abstraction.
In the opinion of some psychologists it is : in the opinion
of other psychologists it is not. Now, on what does an answer
to this question depend .'' Clearly it depends on whether we
hold it essential to an abstract or general idea that it should
be incarnate as a word. Under one point of view, to "take
in and retain together several combinations of simple ideas,"
is to form a general concept of so many percepts. But, under
another point of view, such a combination of simple ideas
is only then entitled to be regarded as a concept, when it has
been conceived by the mind as a concept, or when, in virtue
of having been bodied forth in a name, it stands before the
mind as a distinct and organic offspring of mind — so becoming
an object as well as a product of ideation. For then only can
the abstract idea be known as abstract, and then only can it
be available as a definite creation of thought, capable of being
built into any further and more elaborate structure of ideation.
Or, to quote M. Taine, who advocates this view with great
lucidity, " Of our numerous experiences \i.e. individual percep-
tions of a show of araucarias] there remain on the following

* If required, prouf of this fact is to he found in abundance in the chapter on
" Imagination," Mental Evolution in Animals, pp. 142-158. It is there shown that
imagination in animals is not dependent only on associations aroused by sensuous
impressions from without, but reaches the level of carrying on a train of mental
imagery per se.

32 MEXTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

day four or five more or less distinct recollections, which
obliterated themselves, leave behind in us a simple, colourless,
vague representation, into which enter as components various
reviving sensations, in an utterly feeble, incomplete, and
abortive state. But this representation is not the general or
abstract idea. It is but its accompaniment, and, if I may say
so, the one from which it is extracted. For the representation,
though badly sketched, is a sketch, the sensible sketch of a
distinct individual ; in fact, if I make it persist and dwell
upon it, it repeats some special visual sensation ; I see mentally
some outline which corresponds only to some particular
araucaria, and, therefore, cannot correspond to the whole class :
now, my abstract idea corresponds to the whole class ; it differs,
then, from the representation of an individual. Moreover, my
abstract idea is perfectly clear and determinate ; now that I
possess it, I never fail to recognize an araucaria among the
various plants I may be shown ; it differs, then, from the con-
fused and floating representation I have of some particular
araucaria. What is there, then, within me so clear and
determinate, corresponding to the abstract character, corre-
sponding to all araucarias, and corresponding to it alone ? A
class-name, the name araucaria. . . . Thus we conceive the
abstract characters of things by means of abstract names
which are our abstract ideas, and the formation of our abstract
ideas is nothing more than the formation of names." *

The real issue, then, is as to what we are to understand
by this term abstraction, or its equivalents. If Ave are to
limit the term to the faculty of " taking in and retaining
together several combinations of simple ideas," J?h(s the
faculty of giving a name to the resulting compound, then

* Loc. ci'L, pp. 397-399. Allusion may also be here conveniently made to an
interesting and suggestive work by another French writer, M. Binet (La Psycho-
logie du Kaisoitnemeiit, 18S6). His object is to show that all processes of reason-
ing are fundamentally identical with those of perception. In order to do this he
gives a detailed exposition of the general fact that processes of both kinds depend
on " fusions" of states of consciousness. In the case of perception the elements
thus fused are sensations, while in the case of reasoning they are perceptions — in
both cases the principle of association being alike concerned.

IDEAS. 33

undoubtedly animals differ from men in not presenting the
faculty of abstraction ; for this is no more than to say that
animals have not the faculty of speech. But if the term in
question be not thus limited — if it be taken to mean the first
of the above-named processes irrespective of the second, —
then, no less undoubtedly, animals resemble men in pre-
senting the faculty of abstraction. In accordance with the
former definition, it necessarily follows that " we conceive the
abstract characters of things by means of abstract names zvhich
ARE 07ir abstract ideas ; " and, therefore, that " the formation
of our abstract ideas is nothing more than the formation of
names." But, in accordance with the latter view, great as
may be the importance of affixing a name to a compound of
simple ideas for the purpose of giving that compound greater
clearness and stability, the essence of abstraction consists in
the act of compounding, or in the blending together of
particular ideas into a general idea of the class to which the
individual things belong. The act of bestowing upon this
compound idea a class-name is quite a distinct act, and one
which is necessarily subsequent to the previous act of com-
pounding : why then, it may be asked, should we deny that
such a compound idea is a general or abstract idea, only
because it is not followed up by the artifice of giving it a
name .'*

In my opinion so much has to be said in favour of both of
these views that I am not going to pronounce against either.
What I have hitherto been endeavouring to do is to reveal
clearly that the question whether or not there is any difference
between the brute and the man in respect of abstraction, is
nothing more than a question of terminology. The real
question will arise only when we come to treat of the faculty
of language : the question before us now is merely a question
of psychological classification, or of the nomenclature of ideas.
Now, it appears to me that this question admits of being
definitely settled, and a great deal of needless misunder-
standing removed, by a slight re-adjustmcnt and a closer
definition of terms. For it must be on all hands atlmittcd

D

34 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

that, whether or not we choose to denominate by the word
abstraction the faculty of compounding simple ideas without
the faculty of naming the compounds, at the place where this
additional faculty of naming supervenes, so immense an
accession to the previous faculty is furnished, that any
system of psychological nomenclature must be highly
imperfect if it be destitute of terms whereby to recognize the
difference. For even if it were conceded by psychologists of
the opposite school that the essence of abstraction consists
in the compounding of simple ideas, and not at all in the
subsequent process of naming the compounds ; still the effect
of this subsequent process — or additional faculty — is so pro-
digious, that the higher degrees of abstraction which by it
are rendered possible, certainly require to be marked off, or to
be distinguished from, the lower degrees. Without, therefore,
in any way prejudicing the question as to whether we have
here a difference of degree or a difference of kind, I will
submit a classification of ideas which, while not open to
objection from either side of this question, will greatly help
us in our subsequent treatment of the question itself

The word " Idea " I will use in the sense defined in my
previous work — namely, as a generic term to signify indiffer-
ently any product of imagination, from the mere memory of
a sensuous impression up to the result of the most abstruse
generalization.*

By " Simple Idea," " Particular Idea," or " Concrete Idea,"
I understand the mere memory of a particular sensuous
perception.

By " Compound Idea," " Complex Idea," or " Mixed Idea,"
I understand the combination of simple, particular, or concrete
ideas into that kind of composite idea which is possible with-
out the aid of language.

Lastly, by "General Idea," "Abstract Idea," "Concept,"
or " Notion," I understand that kind of composite idea which
is rendered possible only by the aid of language, or by the
process of naming abstractions as abstractions.

* Mental Evolution in Animals, p. Ii8.

IDEAS. 35

Now in this classification, notwithstanding that it is
needful to quote at least ten distinct terms which are either
now in use among psychologists or have been used by
classical English writers upon these topics, we may observe
that there are really but three separate classes to be
distinguished. Moreover, it will be noticed that, for the
sake of definition, I restrict the first three terms to denote
memories of particular sensuous perceptions — refusing, there-
fore, to apply them to those blended memories of many
sensuous perceptions which enable animals and infants (as
well as ourselves) to form compound ideas of kind or class
without the aid of language. Again, the first division of
this threefold classification has to do only with what are
termed percepts, while the last has to do only with what
are termed concepts. Now there does not exist any
equivalent word to meet the middle division. And this fact
in itself shows most forcibly the state of ambiguous confusion
into which the classification of ideas has been wrought.
Psychologists of both the schools that we are considering —
namely, those who maintain and those who deny that there
is any difference of kind between the ideation of men and
animals — are equally forced to allow that there is a great
difference between what I have called a simple idea and what
I have called a compound idea. In other words, it is a
matter of obvious fact that the only distinction between ideas
is not that between the memory of a particular percept and
the formation of a named concept ; for between these two
classes of ideas there obviously lies another class, in virtue
of which even animals and infants are able to distinguish
individual objects as belonging to a sort or kind. Yet this
large and important territory of ideation, lying between the
other two, is, so to speak, unnamed ground. Even the words
"compound idea," " complex idea," and "mixed idea," are by
me restricted to it without the sanction of previous usage ;
for, as above remarked, so completely has the existence of
this intermediate land been ignored, that we have no word
at all which is applicable to it in the same way that Percept

36 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

and Concept are applicable to the lands on either side of it.
The consequence is that psychologists of the one school
invade this intermediate province of ideation with terms that
are applicable only to the lower province, while psychologists
of the other school invade it with terms which are applicable
only to the higher : the one matter upon which they all
appear to agree being that of ignoring the wide area which
this intermediate territory covers — and, consequently, also
ignoring the great distance by which the territories on either
side of it are separated.

In addition, then, to the terms Percept and Concept, I
coin the word Recept. This is a term which seems exactly to
meet the requirements of the case. For as perception literally
means a taking wholly, and conception a taking together,
reception means a taking again. Consequently, a recept is
that which is taken again, or a re-cognition of things
previously cognized. Now, it belongs to the essence of what
I have defined as compound ideas (recepts), that they arise
in the mind out of a repetition of more or less similar
percepts. Having seen a number of araucarias, the mind
receives from the whole mass of individuals which it perceives
a composite idea of Araucaria, or of a class comprising all
individuals of that kind — an idea which differs from a general
or abstract idea only in not being consciously fixed and
signed as an idea by means of an abstract name. Compound
ideas, therefore, can only arise out of a repetition of more or
less similar percepts ; and hence the appropriateness of
designating them recepts. Moreover, the associations which
we have with the cognate words. Receive, Reception, &c., are
all of the passive kind, as the associations which we have
with the words Conceive, Conception, &c., are of the active
kind. Now, here again, the use of the word recept is seen to
be appropriate to the class of ideas in question, because in
receiving such ideas the mind is passive, as in conceiving
abstract ideas the mind is active. In order to form a
concept, the mind must intentionally bring together its
percepts (or the memories of them), for the purpose of

IDEAS. 37

binding them up as a bundle of similars, and labelling the
bundle with a name. But in order to form a recept, the mind
need perform no such intentional actions : the similarities
among the percepts with which alone this order of ideation is
concerned, are so marked, so conspicuous, and so frequently
repeated in observation, that in the very moment of perception
they sort themselves, and, as it were, fall into their appropriate
classes spontaneously, or without any conscious effort on the
part of the percipient. We do not require to name stones to
distinguish them from loaves, nor fish to distinguish them
from scorpions. Class distinctions of this kind are conveyed
in the very act of perception— ^.^. the case of the infant
with the glass bottles, — and, as we shall subsequently see, in
the case of the higher animals admit of being carried to a
wonderful pitch of discriminative perfection. Recepts, then,
are spontaneous associations, formed unintentiojially as what
may be termed iinperceived abstractions*

* In this connection I may quote the following very lucid statements from a
paper by the Secretary of the Victoria Institute, which is directed against the
general doctrine that I am endeavouring to advance, i.e. that there is no distinc-
tion of kind between brute and human psychology.

"Abstraction and generalization only become intellectual when they are
utilized by the intellect. A bull is irritated by a red colour, and not by the object
of which redness is a property ; but it would be absurd to say that the bull
voluntarily abstracts the phenomenon of redness from these objects. The process
is essentially one of abstraction, and yet at the same time it is essentially
automatic." And with reference to the ideation of brutes in general, he con-
tinues : — "Certain qualities of an object engage his attention to the exclusion
of other qualities, which are disregarded ; and thus he abstracts automatically.
The image of an object having been imprinted on his memory, the feelings which
it excited are also imprinted on his memory, and on the reproduction of the image
these feelings and the actions resulting therefrom are reproduced, likewise
automatically : thus he acts from experience, automatically still. The image
may be the image of the same object, or the image of another object of the same
species, but the effect is the same, and thus he generalizes, automatically also."
Lastly, speaking of inference, he says: — "This method is common to man and
brute, and, like the faculties of abstraction, &c., it only becomes inlelleclual when
we choose to make it so." (E. J. Morshead, in an essay on Co»i/>arative Psycliology,
Journ. Vic. /nsi., vol. v., pp. 303, 304, 1870.) In the work of M. IJinet ahcaily
alluded to, the distinction in question is also recognized. For lie says that the
"fusion" of sensations which takes place in an act of perception is performed
automatically (i.e. is receplual) ; while the "fusion" of perceptions which are
concerned in an act of reason is performed intentionally (i.e. is conceptual).

38 MENTAL EVOLUTION- IN MAN.

One further remark remains to be added before our
nomenclature of ideas can be regarded as complete. It will
have been noticed that the term " general idea " is equally
appropriate to ideas of class or kind, whether or not such
ideas are named. The ideas Good-for-cating and Not-good-
for-eating are as general to an animal as they are to a man,
and have in each case been formed in the same way — namely,
by an accumulation of particular experiences spontaneously
assorted in consciousness. General ideas of this kind,
however, have not been contemplated by previous writers
while dealing with the psychology of generalization : hence
the term "general," like the term "abstract," has by usage
become restricted to those higher products of ideation which
depend on the faculty of language. And the only words that
I can find to have been used by any previous writers to
designate the ideas concerned in that lower kind of generali-
zation which does not depend on language, are the words
above given — namely, Complex, Compound, and Mixed.
Now, none of these words are so good as the word General,
because none of them express the notion of geiuis or class ;
and the great distinction between the idea which an animal
or an infant has, say of an individual man and of men in
general, is not that the one idea is simple, and the other
complex, compound, or mixed ; but that the one idea is
particular and the other general. Therefore consistency
would dictate that the term "general" should be applied to
all ideas of class or kind, as distinguished from ideas of
particulars or individuals — irrespective of the degree of
generality, and irrespective, therefore, of the accident whether
or not, qua general, such ideas are dependent on language.
Nevertheless, as the term has been through previous usage
restricted to ideas of the higher order of generality, I will not
introduce confusion by extending its use to the lower order,
or by speaking of an animal as capable of generalizing. A
parallel term, however, is needed ; and, therefore, I will speak
of the general or class ideas which are formed without the aid
of language ^sgoieric. This word has the double advantage of

IDEAS. 39

retaining a verbal as well as a substantial analogy with the
allied term general. It also serves to indicate that generic
ideas, or recepts, are not only ideas of class or kind, but have
been generated from the intermixture of individual ideas — i.e.
from the blended memories of particular percepts.

My nomenclature of ideas, therefore, may be presented in
a tabular form thus : —

I General, Abstract, or Notional = Concepts.
Complex, Compound, or Mixed = Recepts, or Generic Ideas.
Simple, Particular, or Concrete = IMemories of Percepts.*

* The more elaborate analysis of German psychologists has yielded five
orders instead of three ; namely, Wahrnehinitng, Anschatiung, Vorstelliingeti,
Erfahntngsbegriff, and Verstandcsbegriff. But for the purposes of this treatise it
is needless to go into these liner distinctions.

40 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IN MAN.

CHAPTER III.

LOGIC OF RECEPTS.

We have seen that the great border-land, or terra media, lying
between particular ideas and general ideas has been strangely
neglected by psychologists, and we may now be prepared to
find that a careful exploration of this border-land is a matter
of the highest importance for the purposes of our inquiry. I
will, therefore, devote the present chapter to a full consider-
ation of what I have termed generic ideas, or recepts.

It has already been remarked that, in order to form any of
these generic ideas, the mind does not require to combine
intentionally the particular ideas which go to construct it : a
recept differs from a concept in that it is received, not conceived.
The percepts out of which a recept is composed are of so
comparatively simple a character, are so frequently repeated in
observation, and present among themselves resemblances or
analogies so obvious, that the mental images of them run
together, as it were, spontaneously, or in accordance with the
primary laws of merely sensuous association, without requir-
ing any conscious act of comparison. This is a truth which
has been noticed by several previous writers. For instance, I
have in this connection already quoted a passage from M.
Taine, and, if necessary, could quote another, wherein he very
aptly likens what I have called recepts to the unelaborated
ore out of which the metal of a concept is afterwards smelted.
And still more to the purpose is the following passage, which
I take from Mr. Sully:— "The more concrete concepts, or
generic images, are formed to a large extent by a passive
process of assimilation. The likeness among dogs, for ex-

LOGIC OF REG EFTS. 4 1

ample, is so great and striking that when a child, already
familiar with one of these animals, sees a second, he recognizes
it as identical with the first in certain obvious respects. The
representation of the first combines with the representation
of the second, bringing into distinct relief the common dog
features, more particularly the canine form. In this way the
images of different dogs come to overlap, so to speak, giving
rise to a typical image of dog. Here there is very little of
active direction of the mind from one thing to another in
order to discover where the resemblance lies : the resemblance
forces itself upon the mind. When, however, the resemblance
is less striking, as in the case of more abstract concepts, a
distinct operation of active comparison is involved." *

Similarly, M. Perez remarks, " the necessity which children
are under of seeing in a detached and scrappy manner in order
to see well, makes them continually practise that kind of
abstraction by which we separate qualities from objects.
From those objects which the child has already distinguished
as individual, there come to him at different moments particu-
larly vivid impressions. . . . Dominant sensations of this kind,
by their energy or frequency, tend to efface the idea of the
objects from which they proceed, to separate or abstract them-
selves. . . . The flame of a candle is not always equally bright
or flickering ; tactile, sapid, olfactory, and auditive impres-
sions do not always strike the child's sensorium with the
same intensity, nor during the same length of time. This is
why the recollections of individual forms, although strongly
graven on their intelligence, lose by degrees their first pre-
cision, so that the idea of a tree, for instance, furnished by
direct and perfectly distinct memories, comes back to the
mind in a vague and indistinct form, which might be taken
for a general idea." t

Again, in the opinion of John Stuart Mill, " It is the
doctrine of one of the most fertile thinkers of modern times,

* Outlines of Psycholo,<iy, p. 342. The italics arc mine. Il will be observed
that Mr. Sully here uses the term " generic " in exactly the sense which I iJropose.
t Finl Three Years 0/ Childhood, English trans., pp. 180-1S2.

42 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

Auguste Comtc, that besides the logic of signs, there is a
logic of images, and a logic of feelings. In many of the
familiar processes of thought, and especially in uncultured
minds, a visual image serves instead of a word. Our visual
sensations, perhaps only because they are almost always
present along with the impressions of our other senses, have a
facility of becoming associated with them. Hence, the charac-
teristic visual appearance of an object easily gathers round it,
by association, the ideas of all other peculiarities which have,
in frequent experience, co-existed with that appearance ; and,
summoning up these with a strength and certainty far sur-
passing that of merely casual associations which it may also
raise, it concentrates the attention on them. This is an image
serving for a sign — the logic of images. The same function
may be fulfilled by a feeling. Any strong and highly interest-
ing feeling, connected with one attribute of a group, spontane-
ously classifies all objects according as they possess, or do not
possess, that attribute. We may be tolerably certain that the
things capable of satisfying hunger form a perfectly distinct
class in the mind of any of the more intelligent animals ;
quite as much as if they were able to use or understand the
word food. We here see in a strong light the important truth
that hardly anything universal can be affirmed in psychology
except the laws of association." *

Furthermore, Mansel tersely conveys the truth which I am
endeavouring to present, thus : — " The mind recognizes the
impression which a tree makes on the retina of the eye : this is
presentative consciousness. It then depicts it. From many
such pictures it forms a general notion, and to that notion it
at last appropriates a name."-f- Almost in identical language

* Exatnination of Hamilton^ s Philosophy, p. 403.

t To this, Max Miiller objects on account of its veiled conceptualism — seeing
that it represents the "notion" as chronologically prior to the "name " {Science
of Thought, p. 26S). With this criticism, however, I am not concerned. Whether
" the many pictures" which the mind thus forms, and blends together into what
Locke terms a "compound idea," deserve, when so blended, to be called "a
general notion " or a " concept " — this is a question of terminology of which I
steer clear, by assigning to such compound ideas the term recepts, and reserving
the term notions, or concepts, for compound ideas after they have been named.

LOGIC OF EEC EFTS. 43

the same distinction is conveyed by Noire thus : — "All trees
hitherto seen by me may leave in my imagination a mixed
image, a kind of ideal representation of trees. Quite different
from this is the concept, which is never an image." *

And, not to overburden the argument with quotations, I
Avill furnish but one more, which serves if possible with still
greater clearness to convey exactly what it is that I mean by a
recept. Professor Huxley writes : — "An anatomist who occu-
pies himself intently with the examination of sev^eral specimens
of some new kind of animal, in course of time acquires so
vivid a conception of its form and structure, that the idea may
take visible shape and become a sort of waking dream." f

Although the use of the word " conception " here is unfortu-
nate in one way, I regard it as fortunate in another : it shows
how desperate is the need for the word which I have coined.

The above quotations, then, may be held sufficient to show
that the distinction which I have drawn has not been devised
merely to suit my own purposes. All that I have endeavoured
so far to do is to bring this distinction into greater clearness,
by assigning to each of its parts a separate name. And in
doing this I have not assumed that the two orders of generaliza-
tion comprised under recepts and concepts are the same in
kind. So far I have left the question open as to whether a
mind which can only attain to recepts differs in degree or
in kind from the intellect which is able to go on to the
formation of concepts. Had I said, with Sully, " When the
resemblance is less striking, as in the case of more abstract

* Logos, p. 175, quoted by Max Miiller, who adds : — "The followers of Hume
might possibly look upon the faded images of our memory as abstract ideas. Our
memory, or, what is often equally important, our oblivescence, seems to them able
to do what abstraction, as Berkeley shows, never can do ; and under its silent
sway many an idea, or cluster of ideas, might seem to melt away till nothing is
left but a mere shadow. These shadows, however, though they may become very
vague, remain percepts ; they are not concepts " {Science of Thought, p. 453).
Now, I say it is equally evident that these shadows are not percepts : they are the
result of \\\& fusion of percepts, no one of which corresponds to their generic sum.
Seeing, then, that they are neither percepts nor concepts, and yet such highly
important elements in ideation, I coin for them the distinctive name of recepts.
t Life of Hume, p. 96.

44 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

concepts, a distinct operation of active comparison is involved,"
I should have been assuming that there is only a difference
of degree between a recept and a concept : designating both
by the same term, and therefore implying that they differ only
in their level of abstraction, I should have assumed that what
he calls the " passive process of assimilation," whereby an
infant or an animal recognizes an individual man as belonging
to a class, is really the same kind of psychological process as
that which is involved " in the case of more abstract concepts,"
where the individual man is designated by a proper name, while
the class to which he belongs is designated by a common name.
Similarly, if I had said, with Thomas Brown, that in the process
of generalization there is, " in the first place, the perception
of two or more objects [percept] ; in the second place, the
feeling of their resemblance [recept] ; and, lastly, the expres-
sion of this common relative feeling by a name, afterwards
used as a general name [concept] ; " — if I had spoken thus,
I should have virtually begged the question as to the universal
continuity of ideation, both in brutes and men. Of course
this is the conclusion towards which I am working ; but my
endeavour in doing so is to proceed in the proof step by step,
without anywhere prejudging my case. These passages,
therefore, I have quoted merely because they recognize more
clearly than others which I have happened to meet with what
I conceive to be the true psychological classification of ideas ;
and although, with the exception of that quoted from Mill,
no one of the passages shows that its writer had before his
mind the case of animal intelligence — or perceived the
immense importance of his statements in relation to the
question which we have to consider, — this only renders of more
value their independent testimony to the soundness of my
classification.*

* Steinthal and Lazarus, however, in dealing with the problem touching the
origin of speech, present in an adumbrated fashion this doctrine of receptual
ideation with special reference to animals. For instance, Lazarus says, " Es gibt
in der gewohnlichen Erfahrung kein so einfaches Ding von cinfacher Beschaffen-
heit, dass wir es durch due Sinnesempfindung wahrnehmen kdnnten ; erst aus
der Sammlung seiner Eigenschaften, d. h. erst aus der Verbindung der mehreren

LOGIC OF RECEPTS. 45

The question, then, which we have to consider is whether
there is a difference of kind, or only a difference of degree,
between a recept and a concept. This is really the question
with which the whole of the present volume will be concerned,
and as its adequate treatment will necessitate somewhat

Empfindungen ergibt sich die Wahi-nehnmng eines Dinges : erst indem wir die
weisse Farbe sehen, die Harte fiihlen und den siissen Geschmack empfinden,
erkennen wir ein Stiick Zucker" {Das Leben der Seek (i8^j), 8, ii. 66). This
and other passages in the same work follow the teaching of Steinthal ; e.g. "Die
Anschauung von einem Dinge ist der Complex der sammtlichen Empfindungser-
kenntnisse, die wir von einem Dinge haben . . . die Anschauung ist eine Synthesis,
aber eine unmittelbare, die durch die Einheit der Seele gegeben ist." And,
following both these writers, Friedrich Miiller says, " Diese Sammlung und
Einigung der verschiedenen Empfindungen gemass der in den Dingen verbun-
denen Eigenschaften heisst Anschauung " ( Gi-undriss der Sprachwissenschaft, i. 26).
On the other hand, their brother philologist, Geiger, strongly objects to this use
of the term Anschatmng, under which, he says, " wird theils etwas von der
Sinneswahrnehmung gar nicht Unterschiedenes verstanden, theils auch ein dunkles
Etwas, welches, ohne dass die Bedingungen und Ursachen zu erkennen sind, die
Einheit der Wahrnehmungen zu kleineren und grossern Complexen bewirken soil.
... So dass ich eine solche ' Synthesis ' nicht auch bei dem Thiere ganz ebenso
wie bei dem Menschen voraussetze : ich glaube im Gegentheile, dass es sich mit
der Sprache erst entwickelt " {Ursprung der Sprache, 177, 178). Now, I have
quoted these various passages because they serve to render, in a brief and
instructive form, the different views which may be taken on a comparatively
simple matter owing to the want of well-defined terms. No doubt the use of the
term Anschauung by the above writers is unfortunate ; but by it they appear to me
clearly to indicate a nascent idea of what I mean by a recept. They all three fail
to bring out this idea in its fulness, inasmuch as they restrict the powers of
non-conceptual "synthesis" to a grouping of simple perceptions furnished by
different sense-organs, instead of extending it to a synthesis of syntheses of
perceptions, whether furnished by the same or also by different senses. But these
three philologists are all on the right psychological track, and their critic Geiger
is quite wrong in saying that there can be no synthesis of (non-conceptual) ideas
without the aid of speech. As a matter of fact the dunk/es Etrvas which he
complains of his predecessors as importing into the ideation of animals, is an Elwas
which, when brought out into clearer light, is fraught with the highest importance.
For, as we shall subsequently see, it is nothing less than the needful psychological
condition to the subsequent development both of speech and thought. The term
Apperception as used by some German psychologists is also inclusive of what
I mean by receptual ideation. But as it is also inclusive of conceptual, nothing
would here Vje gained by its adoption. Indeed F. Miiller expressly restricts its
meaning to conceptual ideation, for he says, " Alle psychischen Processe bis
einschliesslich zur Perception lassen sich ohne Sprache ausfiihren und voll-
kommen begreifen, die Apperception dagegen liisst sich nur an der Hand der
Sprache denken " (loc. cit. i. , 29).

46 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

laborious inquiries in several directions, I will endeavour to
keep the various issues distinct by fully working out each
branch of the subject before entering upon the next.

First of all I will show, by means of illustrations, the
highest levels of ideation that are attained within the domain
of rccepts ; and, in order to do this, I will adduce my evidence
from animals alone, seeing that here there can be no suspicion
— as there might be in the case of infants — that the logic of
recepts is assisted by any nascent growth of concepts. But,
before proceeding to state this evidence, it seems desirable to
say a few words on what I mean by the term just used, namely,
Logic of Recepts.

As argued in my previous work, all mental processes of
an adaptive kind are, in their last resort, processes of classifi-
cation : they consist in discriminating between differences and
resemblances. An act of simple perception is an act of
noticing resemblances and differences between the objects of
such perception ; and, similarly, an act of conception is the
taking together — or the intentional /z^^*////^ together — of ideas
which are recognized as analogous. Hence abstraction has to
do with the abstracting of analogous qualities ; reason is
ratiocination, or the comparison of ratios ; and thus the highest
operations of thought, like the simplest acts of perception, are
concerned with the grouping or co-ordination of resemblances,
previously distinguished from differences.* Consequently, the
middle ground of ideation, or the territory occupied by recepts,
is concerned with this same process on a plane higher than
that which is occupied by percepts, though lower than that
which is occupied by concepts. In short, the object or use,
and therefore the method or logic, of all ideation is the same.
It is, indeed, customary to restrict the latter term to the
higher plane of ideation, or to that which has to do with
concepts. But, as Comte has shown, there is no reason why,
for purposes of special exposition, this term should not be
extended so as to embrace all operations of the mind, in so

* As stated in a previous foot-note, this truth is well exhibited by M. Binet,
loc. cit.

LOGIC OF RECEPTS. 47

far as these are operations of an orderly kind. For in so far
as they are orderly or adaptive — and not merely sentient or
indifferent — such operations all consist, as we have just seen,
in processes of ideal grouping, or binding together* And
therefore I see no impropriety in using the word Logic for the
special purpose of emphasizing the fundamental identity of all
ideation — so far, that is, as its method is concerned, I object,
however, to the terms " Logic of Feelings " and " Logic of
Signs." For, on the one hand, "Feelings," have to do primarily
with the sentient and emotional side of mental life, as dis-
tinguished from the intellectual or ideational. And, on the
other hand, " Signs " are the expressions of ideas ; not the ideas
themselves. Hence, whatever method, or meaning, they may
present is but a reflection of the order, or grouping, among
the ideas which they are used to express. The logic, there-
fore, is neither in the feelings nor in the signs ; but in the ideas.
On this account I have substituted for the above terms what
I take to be more accurate designations — namely, the Logic
of Recepts, and the Logic of Concepts.!

In the present chapter we have only to consider the logic
of recepts, and, in order to do so efficiently, we may first of
all briefly note that even within the region of percepts we
meet with a process of spontaneous grouping of like with like,
which, in turn, leads us downwards to the purely unconscious
or mechanical grouping of stimuli in the lower nerve-centres.
So that, as fully argued out in my previous work, on its
objective face the method has everywhere been the same :

* The word Logic is derived from \6yos, which in turn is derived from Klyw, to
arrange, to lay in order, to pick up, to bind together.

t Tiie terms Logic of Feelings and Logic of Signs were first introduced and
extensively employed by Comte. Afterwards they were adopted, and still more
extensively employed by Lewes, who, however, seems to have thought that he so
employed them in some different sense. To me it appears that in this Lewes was
mistaken. Save that Comte is here, as elsewhere, intoxicated with theology, I
think that the ideas he intended to set forth under these terms are the same as
those which are advocated by Lewes — although his incohercncyjustifies the remark
of his follower : — " lieing unable to understand this, I do not criticize it " {/'robs,
of Life and Mind, iii., p. 239). The terms in question are also sanctioned by
Mill, as shown by the above quotation (p. 42).

48 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

whether in the case of reflex action, of sensation, perception,
reception, conception, or reflection, on the side of the nervous
system, the method of evolution has been uniform: "it has
everywhere consisted in a progressive development of the
power of discriminating between stimuli, joined with the com-
plementary power of adaptive response." * But although
this is a most important truth to recognize (as it appears to
have been implicitly recognized — or, rather, accidentally
implied — by using a variant of the same term to designate
the lowest and the highest members of the above-named
series of faculties), for the purposes of psychological as
distinguished from physiological inquiry, it is convenient to
disregard the objective side of this continuous process, and
therefore to take up our analysis at the place where it is
attended by a subjective counterpart — that is, at Perception.

So much has already been written on what is termed the
" unconscious judgments" or " intuitive judgments " incidental
to all our acts of perception, that I feel it is needless to occupy
space by dwelling at any length upon this subject. The
familiar illustration of looking straight into a polished bowl,
and alternately perceiving it as a bowl and a sphere, is enough
to show that here we do have a logic of feelings : without any
act of ideation, but simply in virtue of an automatic grouping
of former percepts, the mind spontaneously infers — or uncon-
sciously judges — that an object, which must either be a bowl or
a sphere, is now one and now the other.f From which we

* Mental Evolution in Animals, p. 62.

t Special attention, however, may be drawn to the fact that the term
" unconscious judgment " is not metaphorical, but serves to convey in a technical
sense what appears to be the precise psychology of the process. For the dis-
tinguishing element of a judgment, in its technical sense, is that it involves an
element of belief. Now, as Mill remarks, "when a stone lies before me, I am
conscious of certain sensations which I receive from it ; but if I say that these
sensations come to me from an external object which I perceive, the meaning of
these words is, that receiving the sensations, I intuitively believe that an external
cause of those sensations exists" {Logic, i., p. 58). In cases, such as that
mentioned in the text, where the "unconscious judgment" is wrong — i.e. the
perception illusory — it may, of course, be over-ridden by judgment of a higher
order, and thus we do not end by believing that the bowl is a sphere. Neverthe-
less, so far as it is dependent on the testimony of our senses, the mind judges

LOGIC OF RECEPTS. 49

gather that all our visual perceptions are thus of the nature
of automatic inferences, based upon previous correspondencies
between them and perceptions of touch. From which, again,
we gather that perceptions of every kind depend upon
previous grouping, whether between those supplied by the
same sense only, or also in combination with those supplied
by other senses.

Now, if this is so well known to be the case with percepts,
obviously it must also be the case with recepts. If we thus
find by experiment that all our perceptions are dependent on
sub-conscious co-ordination wholly automatic, much more
may we be prepared to find that the simplest of our ideas
are dependent on spontaneous co-ordinations almost equally
automatic. Accordingly, it requires but a slight analysis of
our ordinary mental processes to prove that all our simpler
ideas are group-arrangements, which have been formed as
I say spontaneously, or without any of that intentionally
comparing, sifting, and combining process which is required
in the higher departments of ideational activity. The com-
paring, sifting, and combining is here done, as it were, for
the conscious agent ; not by him. Recepts are received: it is
only concepts that require to be conceived. For a recept is
that kind of idea the constituent parts of which — be they but
the memories of percepts, or already more or less elaborated
as recepts — unite spontaneously as soon as they are brought
together. It matters not whether this readiness to unite is
due to obvious similarity, or to frequent repetition : the point
is that there is so strong an affinity between the elementary
constituents, that the compound is formed as a consequence

erroneously in perceiving tlic bowl as a sphere. In his work on Illusions, Mr.
Sully has shown that illusions of perception arise through the mental "application
of a rule, valid for the majority of cases, to an exceptional case." In other words,
an erroneous judgment is made by the non-conceptual faculties of perception — this
judgment being formed upon the analogies supplied by past experience. Of
course, such an act of merely perceptual inference is not a judgment, strictly
so called ; but it is clearly allied to judgment, and convenience is consulted i)y
following established custom in designating it " unconscious," " intuitive,"
or " perceptual judgment."

E

50 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

of their mere apposition in consciousness. If I am crossing
a street and hear behind me a sudden shout, I do not require
to wait in order to predicate to myself that there is probably
a hansom cab just about to run me down : a cry of this kind,
and in those circumstances, is so intimately associated in my
mind with its purpose, that the idea which it arouses need
not rise above the level of a recept ; and the adaptive move-
ments on my part which that idea immediately prompts, are
performed without any intelligent reflection. Yet, on the
other hand, they are neither reflex actions nor instinctive
actions : they are what may be termed receptual actions, or
actions depending on recepts.

This, of course, is an exceedingly simple illustration, and
I have used it in order to make the further remark that actions
depending on recepts, although they often thus lie near to
reflex actions, are by no means bound to do so. On the
contrary, as we shall immediately find, actions depending on
recepts are often so highly " intelligent," that in our own case
it is impossible to draw the line between them and actions
depending on concepts. That is to say, in our own case there
is a large border-land where introspection is unable to deter-
mine whether adjustive action is due to recepts or to concepts ;
and hence it is only in the case of animals that we can be
certain as to the limits of intelligent adjustment which are
possible under the operation of recepts alone. The question
therefore, now arises, — How far can this process of spontane-
ous or unintentional comparing, sifting, and combining go
without the intentional co-operation of the conscious agent ?
To what level of ideation can recepts attain without the aid of
concepts ? We have seen in the last chapter that animals
display generic or receptual ideas of Good-for-eating, Xot-
good-for-eating, &c. ; and we know that in our own case we
" instinctively " avoid placing our hands in a flame, without
requiring to formulate any proposition upon the properties of
flame. How far, then, can this kind of unnamed or non-con-
ceptional ideation extend ? Or, in other words, how far can
mind travel without the vehicle of LanGTuajje ? For the

LOGIC OF RECEPTS. 51

reasons already given, I will answer this question by fastening
attention exclusively on the mind of brutes.

To lead off with a few instances which have been already
selected for substantially the same purpose by Mr. Darwin : —

" Houzeau relates that, while crossing a wide and arid
plain in Texas, his two dogs suffered greatly from thirst, and
that between thirty and forty times they rushed down the
hollows to search for water. These hollows were not valleys,
and there were no trees in them, or any other difference in the
vegetation ; and as they were absolutely dry, there could have
been no smell of damp earth. The dogs behaved as if they
knew that a dip in the ground offered them the best chance of
finding water, and Houzeau has often witnessed the same be-
haviour in other animals." *

I have myself frequently observed this association of ideas
between hollow ground and probability of finding water in the
case of setter-dogs, which require much water while working ;
and it is evident that the ideas associated are of a character
highly generic.

Further, Mr. Darwin writes : — " I have seen, as I dare say
have others, that when a small object is thrown on the ground
beyond the reach of one of the elephants in the Zoological
Gardens, he blows through his trunk on the ground beyond
the object, so that the current reflected on all sides may drive
the object within his reach. Again, a well-known ethnologist,
Mr. Westropp, informs me that he observed in Vienna a bear
deliberately making with his paw a current in some water,
which was close to the bars of his cage, so as to draw a piece
of floating bread within his reach." *

In Animal Intelligence it will be seen that both these
observations are independently confirmed by letters which I
have received from correspondents ; so that the facts must be
accepted. And they imply a faculty of forming generic ideas
of a high order of complexity. Indeed, these arc not unlike
the generic ideas of intelligent water-dogs with reference to

* Descent of Man, p. 76.

52 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

water-currents, which induce the animals to make allowance
for the force of the current by running in the opposite direction
to its flow before entering the water. Dogs accustomed to
tidal rivers, or to swimming in the sea, acquire a still further
generic idea of uncertainty as to the direction of the flow at any
given time ; and therefore some of the more intelligent of these
dogs first ascertain the direction in which the tide is running
by placing their fore-paws in the stream, and then proceed to
make their allowance for drift-way accordingly. *

Lastly, Mr. Darwin writes : — " When I say to my terrier
in an eager voice (and I have made the trial many times), ' Hi,
hi, where is it?' she at once takes it as a sign that something
is to be hunted, and generally first looks quickly all around,
and then rushes into the nearest thicket, to scout for any
game, but finding nothing, she looks up into any neighbouring
tree for a squirrel. Now, do not these actions clearly show
that she had in her mind a general idea, or concept, that some
animal is to be discovered and hunted ? " f

From the many instances which I have already given in
Animal Intelligence of the high receptual capabilities of ants,
it will here be sufficient to re-state the following, which is
quoted from Mr. Belt, whose competency as an observer no
one can dispute.

" A nest was made near one of our tramways, and to get
to the trees the ants had to cross the rails, over which the
waggons were continually passing and re-passing. Every
time they came along a number of ants were crushed to
death. They persevered in crossing for some time, but at
last set to work and tunnelled underneath each rail. One
day, when the waggons were not running, I stopped up the
tunnels with stones ; but although great numbers carrying
leaves were thus cut off from the nest, they would not cross the
rails, but set to work making fresh tunnels underneath them."

* See Animal Intelligence, pp. 465, 466.

t Of course the words "general idea " and "concept " here are open to that
psychological objection for the avoidance of which I have coined the terms generic
idea and recept.

LOGIC OF RECEPTS. 53

These facts cannot be ascribed to " instinct," seeing that
tram-cars could not have been objects of previous experience
to the ancestors of the ants ; and therefore the degree of
receptual intelHgence, or "practical inference," which was
displayed is highly remarkable. Clearly, the insects must
have appreciated the nature of these repeated catastrophes,
and correctly reasoned out the only way by which they could
be avoided.

As this is an important branch of my subject, I will add
a few more illustrations drawn from vertebrated animals,
beginning with some from the writings of Leroy, who had
more opportunity than most men of studying the habits of
animals in a state of nature.*

He says of the wolf :—"■ When he scents a flock within
its fold, memory recalls to him the impression of the shepherd
and his dog, and balances that of the immediate neighbour-
hood of the sheep ; he measures the height of the fence,
compares it with his own strength, takes into account the
additional difficulty of jumping it when burdened with his
prey, and thence concludes the uselessness of the attempt.
Yet he will seize one of a flock scattered over a field, under
the very eyes of the shepherd, especially if there be a wood
near enough to offer him a hope of shelter. He will resist
the most tempting morsel when accompanied by this alarming
accessory [the smell of man] ; and even when it is divested of
it, he is long in overcoming his suspicions. In this case the
wolf can only have an abstract idea of danger — the precise
nature of the trap laid for him being unknown. . . . Several
nights are hardly sufficient to give him confidence. Though
the cause of his suspicions may no longer exist, it is reproduced
by memory, and the suspicion is unremovcd. The idea of
man is connected with that of an unknown danger, and makes
him distrustful of the fairest appearances." f

Leroy also well observes: — "Animals, like ourselves, are

* In my previous works I have already quoted facts of animal intelligence
narrated by this author, but not any of those which I am now about to use.
t IiitcUigcnce of Atiiiiuils, English trans., p. 20.

54 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

forced to make abstractions. A dog which has lost his
master runs towards a group of men, by virtue of a general
abstract idea, which represents to him the quahties possessed
in common with these men by his master. He then experiences
in succession several less general, but still abstract ideas of sen-
sation, until he meets the particular sensation which he seeks." *
Again, with regard to the stag, this author writes : — " He
exhausts every variety and every design of which the action
of flight consists. He has perceived that in thickets, where
the passage of his body leaves a strong trace, the dogs follow
him ardently, and without any checks ; he therefore leaves
the thicket and plunges into the forests where there is no
underwood, or else skirts the high-road. Sometimes he
leaves that part of the country altogether, and depends wholly
on his speed for escape. But even when out of hearing of
the dogs, he knows that they will soon come up with him ;
and, instead of giving himself up to false security, he avails
himself of this respite to invent new artifices to throw them
out. He takes a straight course, returns on his steps, and
bounding from the earth many times consecutively, throws
out the sagacity of the dogs. . . . When hard pressed he will
often drop down in the hope that their ardour will carry
them beyond the track, and should it do so he retraces his
steps. Often he seeks the company of others of his species,
and when his friend is sufficiently heated to share the peril
with, he leaves him to his fate and escapes by rapid flight.
Frequently the quarry is thus changed, and this artifice is one
the success of which is most certain." f

" Often (when not being hunted at all), instead of returning
home in confidence and straightway lying down to rest, he
will wander round the spot ; he enters the wood, leaves it,

• Ibid., p. 107. This identical illustration appears to have occurred independ-
ently both to Mr. Darwin and Mr. Leslie Stephen. All these writers use the
terms " abstract " and " general " as above ; but, of course, as shown in my last
chapter, this is merely a matter of terminolog>' — in my opinion, however,
objectionable, because appearing to assume, without analysis, that the ideation of
brutes and of men is identical in kind.

t Ibid., pp. 43, 44.

LOGIC OF R EC EFTS. 55

goes and returns on his steps many times. Without having
any immediate cause for his uneasiness, he employs the same-
artifices which he would have employed to throw out the
dogs, if he were pursued by them. This foresight is an
evidence of remembered facts, and of a series of ideas and
suppositions resulting from those facts." *

It is remarkable enough that an animal should seek to
confuse its trail by such devices, even when it knows that the
hounds are actually in pursuit ; but it is still more so when
the devices are resorted to in order to confuse imaginary
hounds which may possibly be on the scent. Perhaps to some
persons it may appear that such facts argue on the part of
the animals which exhibit them some powers of representative
thought, or some kind of reflection conducted without the
aid of language. Be it remembered, therefore, I am not
maintaining that they do not : I am merely conceding that
the evidence is inadequate to justify the conclusion that they
do ; and all I am now concerned with is to make it certain
that in animals there is a logic, be it a logic of recepts only,
or likewise what I shall afterwards explain as a logic of prc-
concepts.

Again, Leroy says of the fox : — " He smells the iron of
the trap, and this sensation has become so terrible to him,
that it prevails over every other. If he perceives that the
snares become more numerous, he departs to seek a safe
neighbourhood. But sometimes, grown bold by a nearer and
oft-repeated examination, and guided by his unerring scent, he
manages, without hurt to himself, to draw the bait adroitly out
of the trap. . . . If all the outlets of his den are guarded by
traps, the animal scents them, recognizes them, and will suffer
the most acute hunger rather than attempt to pass them. I
have known foxes keep their dens a whole fortnight, and only
then make up their minds to come out because hunger left
them no choice but as to the mode of death. . . . There is
nothing he will not attempt in order to save himself He
will dig till he has worn away his claws to effect his exit by a

* //'/(/., p. 39.

56 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

fresh opening, and thus not unfrequcntly escapes the snares
of the sportsman. If a rabbit imprisoned with him gets
caught in one of the snares, or if by any other means one
should go off, he infers that the machine has done its duty,
and walks boldly and securely over it." *

Lastly, this author gives the case, which has since been
largely quoted — although its source is seldom given — of crows
which it is desired to shoot upon their nests, in order to destroy
birds and eggs at the same time. The crows will not return
to their nests during daylight, if they see any one waiting to
shoot them. If, to lull suspicion, a hut is made below the

* Ibid., p. 30. In the present connection, also, I may refer to the chapter
on Imagination in my previous work, where sundr>' illustrations are given of this
faculty as it occurs in animals ; for wherever imagination leads to appropriate action,
there is evidence of a Logic of Recepts, which in the higher levels of
imagination, characteristic of man, passes into a Logic of Concepts.

Since publishing the chapter just alluded to, I have received an additional
and curious illustration of the imaginative faculty in animals, which I think
deserves to be published for its own sake. Of course we may see in a general
way that dogs and cats resemble children in their play of " pretending" that in-
animate objects are alive, and this betokens a comparatively high level of the
imaginative faculty. The case which I am about to quote, however, appears to
show that this kind of imaginative play may extend in animals, as in children, to
the still higher level of not only pretending that inanimate objects are alive, but of
"peopling space with fancy's airy forms." I shall quote the facts in the words of
my correspondent, who is Miss Bramston, the authoress.

' ' IVatch is a collie dog belonging to the Archbishop of Canterbuiy ; but lives
with me a good deal, as Lambeth does not suit him. He is a very remarkable
dog in many ways, which I will not inflict on you. He is very intelligent, under-
stands many words, and can perform tricks. What I mention him for, however,
is that he is the only dog I ever met with a dramatic faculty. His favourite drama
is chasing imaginary pigs. He used now and then to be sent to chase real pigs
out of the field, and after a time it became a custom for Miss Benson to open the
door for him after dinner in the evening, and say, ' Pigs ! ' when he always ran
about, wildly chasing imaginary pigs. If no one opened the door, he went to it
himself wagging his tail, asking for his customary drama. He now reaches a
furthur stage, for as soon as we get up after our last meal he begins to bark
violently, and if the door is open he rushes out to chase imaginary pigs with no
one saying the word ' pigs ' at all. He usually used to be sent out to chase pigs
after prayers in the evening, and when he came to my small house it was amusing
to see that he recognized the function of prayers, performed with totally different
accompaniments, to be the same as prayers performed in an episcopal chapel, so
far as he expected ' Pigs ' to be the end of both. The word ' Pigs,' uttered in
any tone, will always set him off playing the same drama."

LOGIC OF RECEPTS. 57

rookery and a man conceal himself in it with a gun, he waits
in vain if the bird has ever before been shot at in a similar
manner. " She knows that fire will issue from the cave into
which she saw a man enter." Leroy then goes on to say : — "To
deceive this suspicious bird, the plan was hit upon of sending
two men into the watch-house, one of whom passed on while
the other remained ; but the crow counted and kept her dis-
tance. The next day three went, and again she perceived
that only two returned. In fine it was found necessary to
send five or six men to the watch-house in order to put her out
of her calculation."

Now, as Leroy is not a random writer, and as his life's
work was that of Ranger at Versailles, we must not lightly
set aside this statement as incredible, more especially as he
adds that the " phenomenon is always to be repeated when
the attempt is made," and so is to be regarded as "among
the very commonest instances of the sagacity of animals."*
If it is once granted that a bird has sagacity enough
to infer that where she has observed two men pass in and
only one come out, therefore the second man remains behind,
it is only a matter of degree how far the differential perception
may extend. Of course it would be absurd to suppose that
the bird counts out the men by any process of notation, but
we know that for simple ideas of number no symbolism in the
way of figures is necessary. If we were to see three men pass
into a building and only two come out, we should not require
to calculate 3 — 2=1 ; the contrast between the simultaneous
sense-perception of A -f B -f C, when receptually compared
with the subsequently serial perceptions of A and B, would
be sufficient for the spontaneous inference that C must still be
in the building. And this process would in our own case
continue possible up to the point at which the simultaneous
perception was not composed of too many parts to be after-
wards receptually analysed into its constituents.!

* li'id., pp. 125, 126.

t Professor Prcyer has ascertained experimentally llic number of objects (such
as shot-corns, pins, or dots on a piece of paper), which atlmit of being siinul-

58 ME XT A L EVOLUTIOX IN MAX.

In this connection also I may state that, with the assistance
of the keeper, I have succeeded in teaching the Chimpanzee
now at the Zoological Gardens to count correctly as far as
five. The method adopted is to ask her for one straw, two
straws, three straws, four straws, or five straws — of course
without observing any order in the succession of such requests.
If more than one straw is asked for, the ape has been taught
to hold the others in her mouth until the sum is completed,
so that she may deliver all the straws simultaneously. For
instance, if she is asked for four straws, she successively
picks up three straws and puts them in her mouth : then she
picks up the fourth, and hands over all the four together.
This method prevents any possible error arising from her
interpretation of vocal tones, which might well arise if each
straw were asked for separately. Thus there can be no doubt
that the animal is able to distinguish receptually between the
numbers i, 2, 3, 4, 5, and understands the name for each.
Further than this I have not attempted to take her. I
may add that her performance has been witnessed by the
officers of the Zoological Society and also by other naturalists,
who will be satisfied with the accuracy of the above account.
But the ape is capricious, and, unless she happens to be
in a favourable mood at the time, visitors must not be dis-
appointed if they fail to be entertained by an exhibition of
her learning.

The great physiologist Miiller and the great philosopher
Hegel are quoted by Mr. Mivart as maintaining, that " to
form abstract conceptions of such operations as of something
common to many under the notion of cause and effect, is a
perfect impossibility to them " (animals *) ; and no doubt
many other illustrious names might be quoted in support of
the same statement. But it seems to me that needless

taneously estimated with accuracy. (Si/zungs berichten der Gesellschaft fiir
Median und Natiirwissenshaft, 29 Juli, 1 881.) The number admits of being
largely increased by practice, until, with an exposure to view of one second's
duration, the estimate admits of being correctly made up to between twenty and
thirty objects. (See also Mental Evolution in Animals, p. 138.)
* Lessons from Xature, pp. 219, 220.

LOGIC OF RECEPTS. 59

obscurity is imported into this matter, by not considering in
what our own idea of causahty consists. It is clear that to
attain a general idea of causality as universal, &c., demands
higher powers of abstract thought than are possessed by any
animals, or even by the great majority of men ; but it is no
less clear that all men and most animals have a generic idea
of causality, in the sense of expecting uniform experience
under uniform conditions. A cat sees a man knock at the
knocker of a door, and observes that the door is afterwards
opened : remembering this, when she herself wants to get in
at that door, she jumps at the knocker, and waits for the
door to be opened.* Now, can it be denied that in this act
of inference, or imitation, or whatever name we choose to call
it, the cat perceives such an association between the knocking
and the opening as to feel that the former as antecedent was
in some way required to determine the latter as consequent }
And what is this but such a perception of causal relation as is
shown by a child who blows upon a watch to open the case —
thinking this to be the cause of the opening from the uniform
deception practised by its parent, — or of the savage who
plants nails and gunpowder to make them grow .■' And
endless illustrations of such a perception of causality might
be drawn from the everyday life of civilized man : indeed,
how seldom does any one of us wait to construct a general
proposition about causality in the abstract before we act on
our practical knowledge of it. And that this practical
knowledge in the case of animals enables them to form a
generic idea, or recept, of the equivalency between causes and
effects — such that a perceived equivalency is recognized by
them as an explanation — would appear to be rendered evident
by the following fact, which I carefully observed for the
express purpose of testing the question, I quote the incident
from an already-published lecture, which was given before
the British Association at Dublin, in 1878.

" I had a setter dog which was greatly afraid of thunder.
One day a number of apples were being shot upon the

* 'T)^q. Animal Intelligence, pp. 422-424.

60 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

wooden floor of an apple-room, and, as each bag of apples
was shot, it produced through the rest of the house a noise
resembling that of distant thunder. My dog became terror-
stricken at the sound ; but as soon as I brought him to the
apple-room and showed him the true cause of the noise, he
became again buoyant and cheerful as usual." *

The importance of clearly perceiving that animals have a
generic, as distinguished from an abstract, idea of causation
— and, indeed, must have such an idea if they are in any way
at all to adjust their actions to their circumstances — the
importance of clearly perceiving this is, that it carries with it
a proof of the logic of recepts being able to reach generic
ideas oi principles, as well as of objects, qualities, and actions.
In order to prove this important fact still more unquestionably,
I will here quote a passage from the biography of the cebus
which I kept for the express purpose of observing his intelli-
gence.

"To-day he obtained possession of a hearth-brush, one of
the kind which has the handle screwed into the brush. He
soon found the way to unscrew the handle, and, having done
that, he immediately began to try to find out the way to screw
it in again. This he in time accomplished. At first he put
the wrong end of the handle into the hole, but turned it round
and round the right way for screwing. Finding it did not
hold, he turned the other end of the handle, carefully stuck it
into the hole, and began again to turn it the right way. It
was, of course, a very difficult feat for him to perform, for he
required both his hands to hold the handle in the proper
position, and to turn it between his hands in order to screw
it in ; and the long bristles of the brush prevented it from
remaining steady, or with the right side up. He held the

* I may here observe that the earliest age in the infant at which I have
observed such appreciation of causality to occur is during the sixth month. With
my own children at that age I noticed that if I made a knocking sound with my
concealed foot, they would look round and round the room with an obvious desire
to ascertain the cause that was producing the sound. Compare, also, Mental
Evolution in Animals, pp. 1 56- 1 58, on emotions aroused in brutes by sense of the
mysterious — i.e. the unexplained.

LOGIC OF RECEPTS. 6 1

brush with his hind hands, but even so it was very difficult for
him to get the first turn of the screw to fit into the thread ;
he worked at it, however, with the most unwearying perse-
verance until he got the first turn of the screw to catch, and
he then quickly turned it round and round until it was
screwed up to the end. The most remarkable thing was
that, however often he was disappointed in the beginning, he
never was induced to try turning the handle the wrong way ;
he always screwed it from right to left. As soon as he had
accomplished his wish, he unscrewed it again, and then
screwed it on again the second time rather more easily than
the first, and so on many times."

The above is extracted from the diary kept by my sister.
I did not myself witness the progress of this research with the
hearth-brush, as I did so many of the other investigations suc-
cessfully pursued by that wonderful animal. But I have a per-
fect confidence in the accuracy of my sister's observation, as
well as in the fidelity of her account ; and, moreover, the point
with which I am about to be concerned has reference to what
followed subsequently, as to which I had abundant oppor-
tunities for close and repeated observations. For the point is
that, after having thus discovered the mechanical principle of
the screw in that one particular case, the monkey forthwith
proceeded to generalize, or to apply his newly gained know-
ledge to every other case where it was at all probable that the
mechanical principle in question was to be met with. The
consequence was that the animal became a nuisance in the
house by incessantly unscrewing the tops of fire-irons, bell-
handles, &c., &c., which he was by no means careful always to
replace. Here, therefore, I think we have unquestionable
evidence of intelligent recognition of a principle, which in the
first instance was discovered by " the most unwearying per-
severance " in the way of experiment, and afterwards sought
for in multitudes of wholly dissimilar objects.*

* The reader is referred to the whole biography of this monkey {Animal Inlclli-
geitce, pp. 484-498) for a number of other facts serving to show to how high a
level ol inteUigcnt grouping — or of "logic " — rccepts may attain without the aid

62 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

To these numerous facts I will now add one other, which
is sufficiently remarkable to deserve republication for its own
sake. I quote the account from the journal Science, in
which it appeared anonymously. But finding on inquiry that
the observer was Mr. S. P. Langley, the well-known astrono-
mer, and being personally assured by him that he is certain
there is no mistake about the observation, I will now give the
latter in his own words.

•' The interesting description by Mr. Larkin {^Science, No.
58) of the lifting by a spider of a large beetle to its nest,
reminds me of quite another device by which I once saw a
minute spider (hardly larger than the head of a pin) lift a
house-fly, which must have been more than twenty times its
weight, through a distance of over a foot. The fly dangled by a
single strand from the cross-bar of a window-sash, and, when it
first caught my attention, was being raised through successive
small distances of something like a tenth of an inch each ; the
lifts following each other so fast, that the ascent seemed
almost continuous. It was evident that the weight must have
been quite beyond the spider's power to stir by a ' dead lift ; '
but his motions were so quick, that at first it was difficult to
see how this apparently impossible task was being accom-
plished. I shall have to resort to an illustration to explain it ;
for the complexity of the scheme seems to belong less to what
we ordinarily call instinct than to intelligence, and that in a
degree we cannot all boast ourselves.

" The little spider proceeded as follows : —
" ^ <5 is a portion of the window-bar, to which level the fly
was to be lifted, from his original position at F vertically
beneath a; the spider's first act was to descend halfway to
the fly (to d), and there fasten one end of an almost invisible
thread ; his second to ascend to the bar and run out to l\
where he made fast the other end, and hauled on his guy

of concepts. In the same connection I may refer to the chapter on " Imagination "
in Mental Evolution in Aiiimals, and also to the following pages in Animal In-
telligence :—\2%-\o ; 181-97, 219-222, 233, 311-335. zii, 338. 340, 348-352,

377-385, 397-410, 4i3-425> 426-436, 445-470, 478-498.

LOGIC OF RECEPTS. 65

with all his might. Evidently the previously straight line
must yield somewhat in the middle, whatever the weight of
the fly, who was, in fact, thereby brought into position F', to
the right of the first one and a little
higher. Beyond this point, it might
seem, he could not be lifted ; but the
guy being left fast at b, the spider
now went to an intermediate point c
directly over his victim's new posi-
tion, and thus spun a new vertical
line from c, which was made fast at
the bend at d\ after which a d was
cast off, so that the fly now hung
vertically below c, as before below a^ but a little higher.

" The same operation was repeated again and again, a new
guy being occasionally spun, but the spider never descending
more than about halfway down the cord, whose elasticity
was in no way involved in the process. All was done with
surprising rapidity. I watched it for some five minutes
(during which the fly was lifted perhaps six inches), and then
was called away."

Without further burdening the argument with illustrative
proof, it must now be evident that the " ore " out of which
concepts are formed is highly metalliferous : it is not merely
a dull earth which bears no resemblance to the shining sub-
stance smelted from it in the furnace of Language ; it is
already sparkling to such an extent that we may well feel
there is no need of analysis to show it charged with that sub-
stance in its pure form — that what we see in the ore is the
same kind of material as we take from the melting-pot, and
differs from it only in the degree of its agglomeration. Never-
theless, I will not yet assume that such is the case. Before
wo can be perfectly sure that two things which seem to the
eye of common sense so similar arc really the same, we must
submit them to a scientific analysis. Iwen though it be
certain that the one is extracted from the other, there still

64 MENTAL EVOLVTIOX IN MAN.

remains a possibility that in the melting-pot some further
ingredient may have been added. Human intelligence is un-
doubtedly derived from human experience, in the same way
as animal intelligence is derived from animal experience ; but
this does not prove that the ideation which we have in
common with brutes is not supplemented by ideation of some
other order, or kind. Presently I shall consider the arguments
which are adduced to prove that it has been, and then it will
become apparent that the supplement, if any, must have been
added in the smelting-fire of Language — a fact, be it observed,
which is conceded by all modern writers who deny the genetic
continuity of mind in animal and human intelligence. Thus
far, then, I have attempted nothing more than a preliminary
clearing of the ground — first by carefully defining my terms
and impartially explaining the psychology of ideation ; next
by indicating the nature of the question which has presently
to be considered ; and, lastly, by showing the level to which
intelligence attains under the logic of recepts, without any
possibility of assistance from the logic of concepts.

Only one other topic remains to be dealt with in the
present chapter. We continually find it assumed, and con-
fidently stated as if the statement did not admit of question,
that the simplest or most primitive order of ideation is that
which is concerned only with particulars, or with special objects
of perception. The nascent ideas of an infant are supposed to
crystallize around the nuclei furnished by individual percepts ;
the less intelligent animals — if not, indeed, animals in general
— are supposed, as Locke says, to deal " only in particular
ideas, just as they receive them from the senses." Now, I
fully assent to this, if it is only meant (as I understand Locke
to mean) that infants and animals are not able consciously,
intentionally, or, as he says, " of themselves, to compound and
make complex ideas." In order thus intentionally, or of
themselves, to compound their ideas, they would require to
tJiink about their ideas as ideas, or consciously to set one idea
before another as two distinct objects of thought, and for the

LOGIC OF KECEP7S. 65

knotvn purpose of composition. To do this requires powers of
introspective reflection ; therefore it is a kind of mental
activity impossible to infants or animals, since it has to do
with concepts as distinguished from recepts. But, as we have
now so fully seen, it does not follow that because ideas cannot
be thus compounded by infants or animals intentionally, there-
fore they cannot be compounded at all. Locke is very clear
in recognizing that animals do " take in and retain together
several combinations of simple ideas to make up a complex
idea : " he only denies that animals " do of themselves ever
compound them and make complex ideas." Thus, Locke
plainly teaches my doctrine of recepts as distinguished from
concepts ; and I do not think that any modern psycho-
logist— more especially in view of the foregoing evidence — will
so far dispute this doctrine. But the point now is that, in my
opinion, many psychologists have gone astray by assuming
that the most primitive order of ideation is concerned only with
particulars, or that in chronological order the memory of
percepts precedes the occurrence of recepts. It appears to
me that a very little thought on the one hand, and a very
little observation on the other, is enough to make it certain
that so soon as ideas of any kind begin to be formed at all,
they are formed, not only as memories of particular percepts,
but also as rudimentary recepts ; and that in the subsequent
development of ideation the genesis of recepts everywhere
proceeds pari passu with that of percepts. I say that a very
little thought is enough to show that this must be so, while
a very little observation is enough to show that it is so. For,
a priori, the more unformed the powers of perception, the less
able must they be to take cognizance of particulars. The
development of these powers consists in the ever-increasing
efficiency of their analysis, or cognition of smaller and smaller
differences of detail ; and, consequently, of their recognition
of these differences in different combinations. Hence, the
feebler the powers of perception, the more must they occupy
themselves with the larger or class distinctions between
objects of sensuous experience, and the less with the smaller

F

66 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX I.V MAN.

or more individual distinctions. Or, if \vc like, what after-
wards become class distinctions, are at earlier stages of
ideation the only distinctions ; and, therefore, all the same as
what are afterwards individual distinctions. But what follows .''
Surely that — be it in the individual or the race — when these
originally individual distinctions begin to grow into class
distinctions, they leave in the mind an indelible impress of
their first nativity : they were the original recepts of memory,
and if they are afterwards slowly differentiated as they slowly
become organized into many particular parts, this does not
hinder that throughout the process they never lose their
organic unity : the mind must always continue to recognize
that the parts which it subsequently perceived as successively
unfolding from what at first was knowm only as a whole, are
parts which belong to that whole — or, in other words, that the
more newly observed particulars arc members of what is now
perceived as a class. Therefore, I say, on merely a priori
grounds we might banish the gratuitous statement that the
lower the order of ideation the more it is concerned with
particular distinctions, or the less with class distinctions. The
truth must be that the more primitive the recepts the larger
are the class distinctions with which they arc concerned —
provided, of course, that this statement is not taken to apply
beyond the region of sensuous perception.

Accordingly we find, as a matter of fact, both in infants
and in animals, that the lower the grade of intelligence, the
more is that intelligence shut up to a perception of class
distinctions. "We pronounce the word Papa before a child
in its cradle, at the same time pointing to his father. After a
little, he in turn lisps the word, and we imagine that he under-
stands it in the same sense that we do, or that his father's
presence only will recall the word. Not at all. When another
person — that is, one similar in appearance, with a long coat,
a beard, and loud voice — enters the room, he calls him also
Papa. The name was individual ; he has made it general.
In our case it is applicable to one person only ; in his, to a
class. ... A little boy, a year old, had travelled a good deal

LOGIC OF R EC EFTS. 6y

by railway. The engine, with its hissing sound and smoke,
and the great noise of the train, struck his attention, and the
first word he learned to pronounce was Fcfer (chemin de fer).
Then afterwards, a steam-boat, a cofifee-pot with spirit lamp —
ever)'thing that hissed or smoked was a Fcfcr*

Now, I have quoted such familiar instances from this
author because he adduces them as proof of the statement
that "here there appears a delicacy of impression which is
special to man." Without waiting to inquire whether this
statement is justified by the evidence adduced, or even
whether the infant has personally distinguished his father
from among other men at the time when he first calls all men
by the same name ; it is enough for my present purposes to
observe the single fact, that when a child is first able to show
us the nature of its ideation by means of speech, it furnishes
us with ample evidence that this ideation is what I have
termed generic. The dress, the beard, and the voice go to
form a recept to which all men are perceived to correspond :
the most striking peculiarities of a locomotive are vividly
impressed upon the memory, so that when anything resembling
them is met with elsewhere, it is receptually classified as be-
longing to an object of analogous character. Only much later,
when the analytic powers of perception have greatly developed,
does the child begin to draw its distinctions with sufficient
"refinement" to perceive that this classification is too crude —
that the resemblances which most struck its infant imagina-
tion were but accidental, and that they have to be disregarded
in favour of less striking resemblances which were originally
altogether unnoticed. But although the process of classifi-
cation is thus perpetually undergoing improvement with
advancing intelligence, from the very first it has been classi-
fication— although, of course, thus far only within the region of
sensuous perception. And similarly with regard to animals,
it is sufficiently evident from such facts as those already
instanced, that the imagery on which their adaptive action
depends is in large measure generic.

* 'I'niiic, Oil /iitclli:^cii<r, pp. \(\ 17.

68 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

Tl.crefore, without in any way picjudgini^ the question as
to whether or not there is any radical distinction between a
mind thus far gifted and the conceptual thought of man, I
may take it for granted that the ideation of infants is from
the first generic; and hence that those psychologists are
greatly mistaken who thoughtlessly assume that the forma-
tion of class-ideas is a prerogative of more advanced intelli-
gence. No doubt their view of the matter seems plausible
at first sight, because within the region of conceptual thought
we know that progress is marked by increasing powers of
generalization — that it is the easiest steps which have to do
with the cognition of particulars ; the more difficult which
have to do with abstractions. But this is to confuse recepts
with concepts, and so to overlook a distinction between the
two orders of generalization which it is of the first importance
to be clear about. A generic idea is generic because the
particular ideas of which it is composed present such obvious
points of resemblance that they spontaneously fuse together
in consciousness ; but a general idea is general for precisely
the opposite reason — namely, because the points of resemblance
which it has seized are obseured from immediate perception,
and therefore could never have fused together in consciousness
but for the aid of intentional abstraction, or of the power of
a mind knowingly to deal with its own ideas as ideas. In
other words, the kind of classification wath which recepts are
concerned is that which lies nearest to the kind of classifica-
tion with which all processes of so-called "intuitive inference"
depend — such as mistaking a bowl for a sphere. But the
kind of classification with which concepts are concerned is
that which lies furthest from this purely automatic grouping
of perceptions. Classification there doubtless is in both
cases ; but the one order is due to the closeness of
resemblances in an act of perception, while in the other
order it is an expression of their remoteness from merely
perceptual associations.

Or, to put the matter in yet another light, if we think it
sounds less paradoxical to speak of the process of classifica-

LOGIC OF RECEPTS. 69

tion as ev^erywhere the same in kind, we must conclude that
the groupings of recepts stand to those of concepts in much
the same relation as the groupings of percepts do to those of
recepts. In each case it is the lower order of grouping which
furnishes material for the higher : and the object of this
chapter has been to show, first, that the unintentional
grouping which is distinctive of recepts may be carried to
a wonderful pitch of perfection without any aid from the
intentional grouping which is distinctive of concepts ; and,
second, that from the very beginning conscious ideation has
been concerned with grouping. Not only, or not even chiefly,
has it had to do with the registration in memory of particular
percepts ; but much more has it had to do with the
spontaneous sorting of such percepts, with the spontaneous
arrangement of them in ideal (or imagery) systems, and,
consequentl}', with the spontaneous I'eflection in conscionsness of
many among the less complex relations — or the less abstruse
principles — which have been uniformly encountered by the
mind in its converse with an orderly world.

70 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

CHAPTER IV.

LOfllC OF CONCEPTS.

The device of applying symbols to stand for ideas, and then
using the symbols as ideas, operates to the formation of more
highly abstract ideas in a manner that is easily seen. For
instance, because we observe that a great many objects
present a certain quality in common, such as redness, we
find it convenient to give this quality a name ; and, having
done so, we speak of redness in the abstract, or as standing
apart from any particular object. Our word "redness" then
serves as a sign or symbol of a quality, apart from any
particular object of which it may happen to be a quality ;
and having made this symbolic abstraction in the case of a
simple quality, such as redness, we can afterwards compound
it with other symbolic abstractions, and so on till we arrive
at verbal symbols of more and more abstract or general
qualities, as well as qualities further and further removed
from immediate perception. Thus, seeing that many other
objects agree in being yellow, others blue, and so on, we
combine all these abstractions into a still more general
concept of Colour, which, giid more abstract, is further
removed from immediate perception — it being impossible
that we can ever have a percept answering to the amalgamated
concept of colour, although we have many percepts answering
to the constituent concepts of colours.

So in the analogous case of objects. The proper names
Peter, Paul, John, &c., stand in my mind as marks of my
individual concepts : the term Man serves to sum up all the

LOGIC OF CO XC EFTS. 7 1

points of agreement between them — and also between all
other individuals of their kind — without regard to their points
of disagreement : the word Animal takes a still wider range,
and so with nearly all words denoting objects. Like words
connoting qualities, they may be arranged in rank above
rank according to the range of their generality : and it is
obvious that the wider this range the further is their meaning
withdrawn from anything that can ever have been an object
of immediate perception.

We shall afterwards find it is of the highest importance
to note that these remarks apply quite as much to actions
and states as they do to objects and qualities. Verbs, like
nouns and adjectives, may be merely the names of simple
recepts, or they may be compounds of other concepts — in
either case differing from nouns and adjectives only in that
they have to do with actions and states. To sow, to dig, to
spin, &c., are names of particular actions ; to labour is the
name of a more general action ; to live is the symbol of
a concept yet more general. And it is obvious that here,
as previously, the more general concepts are built out of
the more special.

Later on I will adduce evidence to show that, whether we
look to the growing infant or to the history of mankind as
newly unearthed by the researches of the philologist, we alike
find that no one of these divisions of simple concepts —
namely, nouns, adjectives, and verbs — appears to present
priority over the others. Or, if there is any evidence of such
priority, it appears to incline in favour of nouns and verbs.
But the point on which I desire to fasten attention at present
is the enormous leverage which is furnished to the faculty of
ideation by thus using words as the mental equivalents of
ideas. For by the help of these symbols we climb into
higher and higher regions of abstraction ; by thinking in
verbal signs we think, as it were, with the semblance of
ideas : we dispense altogether with the necessity of actual
images, whether of precepts or of recepts : we quit the sphere
of sense, and rise to that of thought.

72 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

Take, for example, another t)'pe of abstract ideation,
and one which not only serves better than most to show
the importance of signs as substitutes for ideas, but also
best illustrates the extraordinary results to which such
symbolism may lead when carried out persistently. I refer
to mathematics. Of course, before the idea of number or of
relation can arise at all, the faculty of conception must have
made great advances ; but let us take this faculty at the
point where the artifice of substituting signs for ideas has
gone as far as to enable a mind to count by means of simple
notation. It would clearly be impossible to conduct the
least intricate trains of reasoning which invoke any ideas of
number or proportion, were we deprived of the power of
attaching particular signs to particular ideas of number.
We could not even tell whether a clock had struck eleven or
twelve, unless we were able to mark off each successive stroke
with some distinctive sign ; so that when it is said, as it often
is, that an animal cannot count, we must remember that
neither could a senior wrangler count if deprived of his
symbols. " Man begins by counting things, grouping them
visibly \i.e. by the Logic of Recepts]. He then learns to
count simply the numbers, in the absence of things, using
his fingers and toes for symbols. He then substitutes
abstract signs, and Arithmetic begins. From this he passes
to Algebra, the signs of which are not merely abstract but
general ; and now he calculates numerical relations, not
numbers. From this he passes to the higher calculus of
relations."

And just as in mathematics the symbols that are employed
contain in an easily manipulated form enormous bodies of
meaning — possibly, indeed, the entire meaning of a long
calculation, — so in all other kinds of abstract ideation, the
symbols which we employ — whether in gesture, speech, or
writing — contain more or less condensed masses of significa-
tion. Or, to take another illustration, which, like the last
example, I quote from Lewes, " It is the same with the
development of commerce. Men begin by exchanging things.

LOGIC OF COXCEPTS. 73

They pass to the exchange of values. First money, then
notes or bills, is the symbol of value. Finally men simply
debit and credit one another, so that immense transactions
are effected by means of this equation of equations. The
complicated processes of sowing, reaping, collecting, shipping,
and delivering a quantity of wheat, are condensed into the
entry of a few words in a ledger."

Thus, without further treatment, it must be obvious that
it is impossible for us to over-estimate the importance of
Language as the handmaid of Thought. "A sign," as Sir
William Hamilton says, "is necessary to give stability to our
intellectual progress — to establish each step in our advance
as a new starting-point for our advance to another beyond.
. . . Words are the fortresses of thought. They enable us
to make every intellectual conquest the basis of operations
for others still beyond." Moreover, thought and language
act and react upon one another ; so that, to adopt a happy
metaphor from Professor Max Mliller, the growth of thought
and language is coral-like. Each shell is the product of life,
but becomes in turn the support of new life. In the same
manner each word is the product of thought, but becomes in
turn a new support for the growth of thought.

It seems needless to say more in order to show the
immense importance of sign-making to the development of
ideation — the fact being one of universal recognition by
writers of every school. I will, therefore, now pass on to the
theme of the present chapter, which is that of tracing in
further detail the logic of this faculty, or the method of its
development.

From what I have already said, it may have been gathered
that the simplest concepts are merely the names of recepts ;
while concepts of a higher order are the names of other
concepts. Just as recepts may be either memories of par-
ticular percepts, or the results of many percepts {i.e. sundry
other recepts) grouped as a class ; so concepts may be
cither names of particular recepts, or the results of many

74 MENTAL EVOLUTION LX MAN.

named recepts {i.e. sundry other concepts) grouped as a class.
The word "red," for example, is my name for a particular
recept ; but the word *' colour " is my name for a whole
group of named recepts. And similarly with words signifying
objects, states, and actions. Hence, we may broadly distinguish
between concepts as of two orders — namely, those which have
to do with recepts, and those which have to do with other
concepts. For a concept is a concept even though it be
nothing more than a named recept ; and it is still a concept,
even though it stands for the highest generalization of
thought. I will make this distinction yet more clear by
means of better illustrations.

Water-fowl adopt a somewhat different mode of alighting
upon land, or even upon ice, from that which they adopt
when alighting upon water ; and those kinds which dive from
a height (such as terns and gannets) never do so upon land or
upon ice. These facts prove that the animals have one recept
answering to a solid substance, and another answering to a
fluid. Similarly, a man will not dive from a height over hard
ground or over ice, nor will he jump into water in the same
way as he jumps upon dry land. In other words, like the
water-fowl, he has two distinct recepts, one of which answers
to solid ground, and the other to an unresisting fluid. But,
unlike the water-fowl, he is able to bestow upon each of these
recepts a name, and thus to raise them both to the level of
concepts. So far as the practical purposes of locomotion are
concerned, it is of course immaterial whether or not he thus
raises his recepts into concepts ; but, as we have seen, for
many other purposes it is of the highest importance that he is
able to do this. Now, in order to do it, he must be able to
set his recept before his own mind as an object of his own
thought : before he can bestow upon these generic ideas the
names of " solid " and " fluid," he must have cognized t\\&Tc\ as
ideas. Prior to this act of cognition, these ideas differed
in no respect from the recepts of a water-fowl ; neither for
the ordinary requirements of his locomotion is it needful that
they should : therefore, in so far as these requirements are

LOGIC OF CONCEPTS. 75

concerned, the man makes no call upon his higher faculties of
ideation. But, in virtue of this act of cognition, whereby he
assigns a name to an idea known as such, he has created
for himself — and for purposes other than locomotion — a
priceless possession : he has formed a concept.

Nevertheless, the concept which he has formed is an
extremely simple one — amounting, in fact, to nothing more
than the naming of one among the most habitual of his
recepts. But it is of the nature of concepts that, when once
formed, they admit of being intentionally compared ; and thus
there arises a new possibility in the way of grouping ideas —
namely, no longer by means of sensuous associations, but by
means of symbolic representations. The names of recepts
now serve as symbols of the recepts themselves, and so admit
of being grouped Avithout reference to the sensuous per-
ceptions out of which they originally sprang. No longer
restricted to time, place, circumstance, or occasion, ideas may
now be called up and manipulated at pleasure ; for in this
new method of ideation the mind has, as it were, acquired an
algebra of recepts : it is no longer necessary that the actual
recepts themselves should be present to sensuous perception,
or even to representative imagination. And as concepts are
thus symbols of recepts, they admit, as I have said, of being
compared and combined without reference to the recepts
which they serve to symbolize. Thus we become able, as it
were, to calculate in concepts in a way and to an extent that
would be quite impossible in the merely perceptual medium
of recepts. Now, it is in this algebra of the imagination th:it
all the higher work of ideation is accomplished ; and as the
result of long and elaborate syntheses of concepts we turn out
mental products of enormous intricacy — which, nevertheless,
may be embodied in single words. Such words, for example,
as Virtue, Government, Mechanical Equivalent, stand for
immensely more elaborated concepts than the words Solid
or Fluid — seeing that to the former there are no possible
equivalents in the way of recepts.

Hence I say we must begin by recognizing the great reach

^6 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

of intellectual territory which is covered by what are called
concepts. At the lowest level they arc nothing more than
named recepts ; beyond that level they become the names of
other concepts ; and eventually they become the named
products of the highest and most complex co-ordinations of
concepts which have been achieved by the human mind. By
the term Loiver Concepts, then, I will understand those which
are nothing more than named recepts, while by the term
Higher Concepts I will understand those w'hich are compounded
of other concepts.

The next thing I wish to make clear is that concepts of
the lower order of which I speak, notwithstanding that they
are the simplest kind of concepts possible, are already some-
thing more than the names of particular ideas : they are the
names of what I have called generic ideas, or recepts. Wc
may search through the whole dictionary of any language and
not find a single word which stands as a name for a truly
particular idea— /.^. for the memory of a particular percept.
Proper names are those which most nearly approach this
character ; but even proper names are really names of recepts
(as distinguished from particular percepts), seeing that every
object to which they are applied is a highly complex object,
presenting man)' and diverse qualities, all of which require to
be registered in memory as appertaining to that object if it
is again to be recognized as the same.

Names, then, are not concerned with particular ideas,
strictly so called : concepts, even of the lowest order, have to
do with generic ideas. Furthermore, the generic ideas with
which they have to do are for the most part highly generic :
even before a recept is old enough to be baptized — or
sufficiently far developed to be admitted as a member of the
body conceptual, — it is already a highly organized product of
ideation. We have seen in the last chapter how wonderfully
far the combining power of imagination is able to go without
the aid of language ; and the consequence of this is, that
before the advent of language mind is alread}' stored with a

LOGIC OF CONCEPTS. "J "J

rich accumulation of orderly ideas, grouped together in many
systems of logical coherency. When, therefore, the advent of
language does take place, it is needless that this work of
logical grouping should be recommenced ab initio. What
language does is to take up the work of grouping where it
has been left by generic ideation ; and if it is found expedient
to name any generic ideas, it is the more generic as well as
the less generic that are selected for the purpose. In short,
immense as is the organizing power of the Logos, it does not
come upon the scene of its creative power to -find only that
which is without form and void : rather does it find a fair
structure of no mean order of system, shaped by prior
influences, and, so far as thus shaped, a veritable cosmos.

Again, all concepts in their last resort depend on recepts,
just as in their turn recepts depend on percepts. This fact
admits of being abundantly proved, not only by general con-
siderations, but also by the etymological derivation of abstract
terms. The most highly abstract terms are derived from terms
less abstract, and these from others still less abstract, until, by
two or three such steps at the most, we are in all cases led
directly back to their origin in a " lower concept " — i.e. in the
name of a recept. As I will prove later on, there is no abstract
word or general term in any language which, if its origin admits
of being traced at all, is not found to have its root in the name of
a recept. Concepts, therefore, are originally nothing more than
named recepts ; and hence it is a priori impossible that any
concept can be formed unless it does eventually rest upon
the basis of recepts. Owing to the elaboration which it
subsequent))' undergoes in the region of symbolism, it ma\-,
indeed, so far cease to bear any likeness to its parentage that
it is only the philologist who can trace its lineage. When we
speak of Virtue, we need no longer think about a man, nor
need we make any conscious reference to the steering of a
ship when we use the word Government. But it is none the
less obvious that both these highly abstract words have
originated in the naming of recepts (the one of an object, the
other of an action) ; and that their subsequent elevation in the

78 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

scale of generality has been due to a progressive widening
of conceptual significance at the hands of symbolical thought
In other words, and to revert to my previous terminology,
" higher concepts" can in no case originate de novo: they can
only be born of " lower concepts," which, in turn, are the
progen}' of recepts.

I must now recur to a point with which we were con-
cerned at the close of the last chapter. I there showed that
the kind of classification, or mental grouping of ideas, which
goes to constitute the logic of recepts, differs from the mental
grouping of ideas which constitutes the logic of concepts, in
that while the former has to do with similarities which are
most obvious to perception, and therefore with analogies
which most obtrude themselves upon attention, the latter have
to do with similarities which are least obvious to perception,
and therefore with analogies which are least readily apparent
to the senses. Classification there is in both cases ; but while
in the one it depends on the closeness of the resemblances in
an act of perception, in the other it is expressive of their
remoteness. Now, from this it follows that the more con-
ceptual the classification, the less obvious to immediate per-
ception are the similarities between the things classified ; and,
consequently, the higher a generalization the greater must be
the distance by which it is removed from the merely auto-
matic groupings of receptual ideation.

For example, the earliest classification of the animal king-
dom with which we are acquainted, grouped together, under
the common designation of " creeping things," articulat;),
mollusca, reptiles, amphibia, and even certain mammals, such
as weasels, &c. Here, it is evident, the classification reposed
only on the very superficial resemblances which are exhibited
by these various creatures in their modes of locomotion. As
yet conceptual thought had not been directed to the anatomy
of animals ; and, therefore, when it undertook a classification
of animals, in the first instance it went no further than to note
the most obvious differences as to external form and move-

LOGIC OF COXCEPTS. 79

ment. In other words, this carHest conceptual classification
was little more than the verbal statement of a receptual
classification. But when the science of comparative anatomy
vv'as inaugurated by the Greeks, a much more conceptual
classification of animals emerged — although the importance
of anything like a systematic arrangement of the animal
kingdom as a whole was so little appreciated that it does not
appear to have been attempted, even by Aristotle. For,
marvellous as is the advance of conceptual grouping here
displayed by him, he confined himself to drawing anatomical
comparisons between one group of animals and another ; he
neither had any idea of group subordinate to group which
afterwards constituted the leading principle of taxonomic
research, nor does he anywhere give a tabular statement of
his own results, such as he could scarcely have failed to give
had he appreciated the importance of classifying the animal
kingdom as a systematic whole. Lastly, since the time of Ray
the best thought of the best naturalists has been bestowed upon
this work, with the result that conceptual ideation has con-
tinuously ascended through wider and wider generalizations, or
generalizations more and more chastened by the intentional and
combined accumulations of knowledge. How enormous, then, is
the contrast between the first simple attempt at classification
as made by the early Jews, and the elaborate body of abstract
thought which is presented by the taxonomic science of
to- day.

Similar illustrations might be drawn from any of the other
departments of conceptual evolution, because everywhere such
evolution essentially consists in the achievement of ideal
integrations further and further removed from simple per-
ceptions. Or, as Sir W. Hamilton puts it, "by a first general-
ization we have obtained a number of classes of resembling
individuals. But these classes we can compare together,
observe their similarities, abstract from their differences, and
bestow on their common circumstance a common name. On
the second classes we can again perform the same operation,
and thus, ascending through the .scale of general notions,

80 MENTAL EVOLUTION L\ MAN.

throwing out of view always a greater number of differences,
and seizing always on fewer similarities in the formation of
our classes, we arrive at length at the limit of our ascent in
the notion of being or existence." *

Now, the point on which I wish to be perfectly clear about
is, that this process of conceptual ideation, whereby ideas
become general, must be carefully distinguished from the pro-
cesses of receptual ideation, whereby ideas become generic.
For these latter processes consist in particular ideas, which
are given immediately in sense perception, becoming by
association of similarity or contiguity automatically fused
together ; so that out of a number of such associated percepts
there is formed a recept, without the need of any intentional
co-operation of the mind in the matter. On the other hand, a
general idea, or concept, can only be formed by the mind
itself intentionally classifying its recepts known as such — or, in
the case of creating "higher concepts," performing the same
process with its already acquired general ideas, for the purpose
of constructing ideas still more general. A generic idea, then,
is generalized in the sense that a naturalist speaks of a lowly
organism as generalized — i.e. as not yet differentiated into the
groups of higher and more specialized structures that subse-
quently emanate therefrom. But a general idea is generalized
in the sense of comprising a group of such higher and more
specialized structures, already formed and named under a
common designation w^ith reference to their points of resem-
blance. Classification there is in all cases ; but in the recep-
tual order it is automatic, while in the conceptual order it is
introspective.

So far as my analysis has hitherto gone, I do not
anticipate criticism or dissent from any psychologist, to what-
ever school he may belong. But there is one matter of
subordinate importance which I may here most conveniently
dispose of, although my views with regard to it may not meet
with universal assent.

* Lectures, vol. ii., p. 290.

LOGIC OF CONCEPTS. 8 1

It appears to me an obvious feature of our introspective
life that we are able to carry on elaborate processes of
ideation without the aid of words — or, to put it paradoxically,
that we are able to conceive without concepts. I am, of
course, aware that this apparently obvious power of bein"-
able to think without any mental rehearsal of verbal sio-ns
(the vcrbuiii vicntalc of scholasticism) is denied by several
writers of good standing — notably, for instance, by Professor
Max Miiller, who seeks with much elaboration to prove that
" not only to a considerable extent, but always and altogether,
we think by means of names." * Now this statement appears
to me either a truism or untrue : it is either tautological in
expression, or erroneous in fact. If we restrict the term
" thought " to the operation of naming, it is merely a truism
to say that there can be no thought without language ; for
this is merely to say that there can be no naming without
names. But if the term "thought" is taken to cover all
processes of ideation which we do not share with brutes, I
hold that the statement is opposed to obvious fact ; and,
therefore, I agree with the long array of logicians and
philosoi^hers whom Professor Max Miiller quotes as showing
what he calls " hesitation " in accepting a doctrine which in
his opinion is the inevitable conclusion of Nominalism. For
to me it appears evident that within the region of concepts,
the frequent handling of those with which the mind is
familiar enables the mind to deal with them in somewhat
the same automatic manner as, on a lower plane of co-
ordinated action, the pianist deals with his chords and phrases.
Whereas at first it required intentional and laborious effort
to perform these many varied and complex adjustments, by
practice their performance passes more and more out of the
range of conscious effort, until they come to be executed in a
manner well-nigh mechanical. So in the case of purely mental
operations, even of the highest order. At first every link in
the chain of ideation requires to be separately fastened to
attention by means of a word : every step in a process of

* Science of Thought, p. 35. For his whole argument, see pp. 30-O4.

G

82 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

reasoning requires to be taken on tlie solid basis of a pro-
position. But by frequent habit the thinking faculty ceases
to be thus restricted : it passes, so to speak, from one end of
the chain to the other without requiring to pause at every
link : for its original stepping-stones it has substituted a
bridge, over which it can pass almost at a bound. Or, again,
to change the metaphor, there arises a method of short-hand
thinking, wherein even the symbols of ideas (concepts) need
no longer appear in consciousness : judgment follows judgment
in logical sequence, yet without any articulate expression by
the vcrbiini mcntalc. This, I say, is a matter of fact which it
appears to me a very small amount of introspection is enough
to verify. On reading a letter, for instance, we may instan-
taneously decide upon our answer, and yet have to pause
before we are able to frame the propositions needed to
express that answer. Or, while writing an essay, how often
does one feel, so to speak, that a certain truth stands to be
stated, although it is a truth which we cannot immediately
put into words. We know, in a general way, that a truth
is there, but we cannot supply the vehicle which is to
bring it here ; and it is not until we have tried many devices,
each of which involve long trains of sequent propositions,
that we begin to find the satisfaction of rendering explicit in
language what was previously implicit in thought. Again,
in playing a game of chess we require to take cognizance of
many and complex relations, actual and contingent ; so that
to play the game as it deserves to be played, we must make
a heavy demand on our powers of abstract thinking. Yet in
doing this we do not require to preach a silent monologue as
to all that we might do, and all that may be done by our
opponent. Lastly, to give only one other illustration, in
some forms of aphasia the patient has lost every trace of
verbal memory, and yet his faculties of thought for all the
practical purposes of life are not materially impaired.

On the whole, therefore, I conclude that, although language
is a needful condition to the original construction of con-
ceptional thought, when once the building has been completed,

LOGIC OF CONCEPTS. 83

the scaffolding may be withdrawn, and yet leave the edifice
as stable as before. In this way familiar concepts become,
as it were, degraded into recepts, but recepts of a degree of
complexity and organization which would not have been
possible but for their conceptional parentage. With Geiger
we may say, " So ist denn uberall die Sprache primar, der
Begriff entsteht durch das Wort." * Yet this does not hinder
that with Friedrich Muller we should add, " Sprechen ist
nicht Denken, sondern es ist nur Ausdruck des Denkens."t

With the exception of the last paragraph, my analysis, as
already observed, will probably not be impugned by any
living psychologist, either of the evolutionary or non-evolu-
tionary schools ; for, with the exception of this paragraph, I
have purposely arranged my argument so as thus far to avoid
debatable questions. And it will be observed that even this
paragraph has really nothing to do with the issue which lies
before us ; seeing that the question with which it deals is
concerned only with intellectual processes exclusively human.
But now, after having thus fully prepared the way by a
somewhat lengthy clearing of preliminary ground, we have to
proceed to the question whether it is conceivable that the
faculty of speech, with all the elaborate structure of ideation
to which it has led, can have arisen by way of a natural

* Ur sprung der sprache, s. 91.

t Grundriss der Sprach'vissenshaft, i., s. 16. It will be observed that tliere is
an obvious analogy between the process above described, whereby conceptual
ideation becomes degraded into receptual, and that whereby, on a lower plane of
mental evolution, intelligence becomes degraded into instinct. In my former work
I devoted many pages to a consideration of this subject, and showed that the con-
dition to intelligent adjustments thus becoming instinctive is invariably to be found
in frequency of repetition. Instincts of this kind (" secondary instincts ") may be
termed degraded recepts, just as the recepts spoken of in the text are degraded
concepts ; neither could be what it now is, but for its higher parentage. Any one
who is specially interested in the question whether there can be thought without
words, may consult the correspondence between Prof. Max Miiller, Mr. Francis
Galton, myself, and others, in Nalure, May and June, 1887 (since published in a
separate form) ; between the former and Mr. Mivart, in Nature, March, 1SS8.
Also an article by Mr. Justice Stephen in the Niueteenth Century, April, 188S.
Prof. Whitney has some excellent remarks on this subject in his Language and the
Study of Language, pp. 405-41 1.

84 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

genesis from the lower faculties of mind. As we have now
seen, it is on all hands agreed that the one and only distinction
between human and animal psychology consists in the former
presenting this faculty which, otherwise stated, means, as we
have likewise seen, the power of translating ideas into symbols,
and using these symbols in the stead of ideas.

This, I say, is the one distinction upon which all arc
agreed ; the only question is as to whether it is a distinction
of kind or of degree. Since the time w^hen the ancient Greeks
applied the same word to denote the faculty of language and
the faculty of thought, the philosophical propriety of the iden-
tification has become more and more apparent. Obscured as
the truth may have become for a time through the fogs of
Realism, discussion of centuries has fully cleared the philo-
sophical atmosphere so far as this matter is concerned.
Hence, in these latter days, the only question here presented
to the evolutionist is — Why has no mere brute ever learnt to
communicate with its fellows .'' Why has man alone of ani-
mals been gifted with the Logos .-' To answer this question
we must undertake a somewhat laborious investigation of the
philosophy of Language.

( 85 )

CHAPTER V.

LANGUAGE.

ExYiMOLOGlCALLV the word Language means sign-making by-
means of the tongue, i.e. articulate speech. But in a wider
sense the word is habitually used to designate sign-making in
general, as when we speak of the "finger-language" of the
deaf-and-dumb, the "language of flowers," &c. Or, as Pro-
fessor Broca says, " there are several kinds of language ; every
system of signs which gives expression to ideas in a manner
more or less intelligible, more or less perfect, or more or less
rapid, is a language in the general sense of the word. Thus
speech, gesture, dactylology, writing both hieroglyphic and
phonetic, are all so many kinds of language. There is, then,
a general faculty of language which presides over all these
modes of expression, and which may be defined — the faculty
of establishing a constant relation between an idea and a sign,
be this a sound, a gesture, a figure, or a drawing of any kind."

The best classification of the sundry exhibitions of sign-
making faculty which I have met with, is one that is given by
Mr. Mivart in his Lessons from Nature (p. 83). This classifi-
cation, therefore, I will render in his own words.

"We may altogether distinguish six different kinds of
language : —

" I. Sounds which are neither articulate nor rational, such
as cries of pain, or the murmur of a mother to her infant.

" 2. Sounds which are articulate but not rational, such as
the talk of parrots, or of certain idiots, who will repeat, with-
out comprehending, every phrase they hear.

86 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

" 3. Sounds which arc rational but not articulate, ejacula-
tions by which wc sometimes express assent to, or dissent
from, given propositions.

"4. Sounds which arc both rational and articulate, consti-
tuting true speech.

" 5. Gestures which do not answer to rational conceptions,
but are merely the manifestations of emotions and feelings.

"6. Gestures which do answer to rational conceptions,
and are therefore ' external,' but not oral manifestations of
. the verbum lucntalc."

To this list of the "Categories of Language" a seventh
must be added, to contain all kinds of written signs ; but with
such obvious addition I assent to the classification, as including
all the species that can possibly be included under the genus
Language, and therefore as excluding none.

Now the first thing to be noticed is, that the signs made
may be made either intentionally or unintentionally ; and
the next is, that the division of intentional signs may be
conveniently subdivided into two classes — namely, inten-
tional signs which are natural, and intentional signs which
are conventional.

The subdivision of conventional signs may further be split
into those which are due to past associations, and those which
are due to inferences from present experience. A dog which
" begs " for food, or a parrot which puts down its head to be
scratched, may do so merely because past experience has taught
the animal that by so doing it receives the gratification it
desires; here is no need for reason — i.e. inference — to come into
play. But if the animal has had no such previous experience,
and therefore could not know by special association that such
a particular gesture, or sign, would lead to such a particular
consequence, and if under such circumstances a dog should
see another dog beg, and should imitate the gesture on
observing the result to which it led ; or if under such analogous
circumstances a parrot should spontaneously depress its head
for the purpose of making an expressive gesture, — then the
sign might strictly be termed a rational one.

LANGUAGE. 8/

But it is evident that rational signs admit of almost
numberless degrees of complexity and elaboration ; so that
reason itself does not present a greater variety of manifesta-
tions in this respect than does the symbolism whereby it is
expressed: an algebraical formula is included in the same
category of sign-making as the simplest gesture whereby we
intentionally communicate the simplest idea. Rational signs,
therefore, may be made by gesture, by tone, by articulation,
or by writing — using each of these words in its largest
sense.*

The following schema may serve to show this classification
in a diagrammatic form — i.e. the classification which I have
myself arrived at, and which follows closely the one given by
Mr. Mivart. Indeed, there is no difference at all between the
two, save that I have endeavoured to express the distinction
between signs as intentional, unintentional, natural, conven-
tional, emotional, and intellectual. The subdivision of the
latter into denotative, connotative, denominative, and pre-
dicative, will be explained in Chapter VIII.

* From this it will be seen that by u>ing such terms as " inference," "reason,"
"rational," &c., in alluding to mental processes of the lower animals, I am in no
way prejudicing the question as to the distinction between man and brute. In
the higher region of recepts both the man and the brute attain in no small def^ree
to a perception of analogies or relations : this is inference or ratiocination in its
most direct form, and differs from the process as it takes place in the sphere of
conceptual thought only in that it is not itself an object of knowledge. But,
considered as a process of inference or ratiocination, I do not see that it should
make any diflerence in our terminology whether or not it happens to be itself an
object of knowledge. Therefore I do not follow those numerous writers who
restrict such terms to the higher exhibitions of the process, or to the ratiocination
which is concerned only with introspective thought. It may be a matter of straw-
splitting, but I think it is best to draw our distinctions where the distinctions
occur ; and I cannot see that it modifies the process of inference, as inference,
whether or not the mind, in virtue of a superadded faculty, is able to think about
the process as a process — not any more, for instance, than the process of associa-
tion is altered by its becoming itself an object of knowledge. Therefore, I hope I
have made it clear that in maintaining the rationality of brutes I am not arguing
for anything more than that they have the power, as Mr. Mivart himself allows,
of drawing "practical inferences." Hitherto, then, my difference with Mr.
Mivart — and, so far as I know, with all other modern writers who maintain the
irrationality of brutes— is only one of terminology.

88 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

LANGUAGE, OR SIGN-MAKING.

I 3 2

Unintentional.

1
Intentional. Wi

thout understanding.

4
1

1 5
1

Natural.

Conventional.
6 1 7
1 1

Emotional.

A

1
Intellectual.

1 B

Connotative.
C 1 D

1
Detonative

1. . 1 .
Denominative. Predicative.

Or, neglecting the unintentional and merely initiative
signs as not, properly speaking, signs at all, every kind of
intentional sign may be represented diagrammatically as in
the illustration opposite.

Now, thus far we have been dealing with matters of fact
concerning which I do not think there can be any question.
That is to say, no one can deny any of the statements which
this schema serves to express ; a difference of opinion can
only arise when it is asked whether the sundry faculties
(or cases) presented by the schema are developmentally
continuous with one another. To this topic, therefore, we
shall now address ourselves.

First let it be observed that there can be no dispute
about one point, namely, that all the faculties or cases
presented by the schema, with the single exception of the
last (No. 7), are common to animals and men. Therefore we
may begin by taking as beyond the reach of question the
important fact that animals do present, in an unmistakable
manner, a genu of the sign-making faculty. But this fact is
so important in its relation to our subject, that I shall here
pause to consider the modes and degrees in which the faculty
is exhibited by animals.

Huber says that when one wasp finds a store of honey,

LANGUAGES.

89

Predicative

Denotatiue

Denominative

,Gonnotatiue

Signs

90 MENTAL EVOLUTION LN MAN.

" it returns to the nest and brings off in a short time a
hundred other wasps ; " and this statement is confirmed by
Dujardin. Again, the very able observer, F. Mliller, writes,
in one of his letters to Mr. Darwin, that he observed a queen
bee depositing her eggs in a nest of 47 cells. In the process
she overlooked four of the cells, and when she had filled
the other. 43, supposing her work to have been completed,
prepared to retire. " But as she had overlooked the four
cells of the new comb, the workers ran impatiently from this
part to the queen, pushing her in an odd manner with their
heads, as they did also the other workers they met with.
In consequence, the queen began again to go round on the
two older combs ; but, as she did not find any cell wanting
an cgQ, she tried to descend, yet everywhere she was pushed
back by the workers. This contest lasted rather a long while,
till the queen escaped without having completed her work.
Thus the workers knew how to advise the queen that some-
thing was yet to be done ; but they knew not how to show
her where it had to be done."

According to De Fraviere, Landois, and some other
observers, bees have a number of different notes, or tones,
whereby they communicate information to one another ; *
but there seems to be little doubt that the means chiefly
employed are gestures made with the antennae. For example,
Huber divided a hive into two chambers by means of a
partition : great excitement prevailed in the half of the hive
deprived of the queen, and the bees set to work to build royal
cells for the creation of a new queen. Huber then divided
a hive in exactly the same manner, with the difference only
that the screen, or partition, was made of trellis work, through
the openings of which the bees on either side could pass
their antennas. Under these circumstances the bees in the
queenless half of the hive exhibited no disturbance, nor did
they construct any royal cells : the bees in the other, or
separated, half of the hive were able to inform them that the
queen was safe.

* ^QQ. Animal IiiliiUgence, p. 158.

LANGUAGE. 91

Turning now to ants, the extent to which the power of
communicating by signs is here carried cannot fail to strike
us as highly remarkable. In my work on Aniiiinl Intelli-
gence I have given many observations by different naturalists
on this head, the general results of which I will here render.

When we consider the high degree to which ants carry the
principle of co-operation, it is evident that they must have
some means of intercommunication. This is especially true
of the Ecitons, which so strangely mimic the tactics of military
organization. " The army marches in the form of a rather
broad and regular column, hundreds of yards in length. The
object of the march is the capture and plunder of other
insects, &c., for food ; and as the well-organized host advances,
its devastating legions set all other terrestrial life at defiance.
From the main column there are sent out smaller lateral
columns, the component individuals of which play the part
of scouts, branching off in various directions, and searching
about with the utmost activity for insects, grubs, &c., over
every log, under every fallen leaf, and in every nook and
cranny where there is any chance of finding prey. When their
errand is completed, they return into the main column. If
the prey found is sufficiently small for the scouts themselves
to manage, it is immediately seized, and carried back to the
main column ; but if the amount is too large for the scouts to
deal with alone, messengers are sent back to the main column,
whence there is immediately despatched a detachment large
enough to cope with the requirements. . . . On either side of
the main column there are constantly running up and down
a few individuals of smaller size and lighter colour than the
other ants, which seem to play the part of officers ; for they
never leave their stations, and while running up and down
the outsides of the column, they every now and again stop to
touch antenna with some member of the rank and file, as if to
give instructions. When the scouts discover a wasps'-ncst in
a tree, a strong force is sent out from the main army, tlie nest
is pulled to pieces, and all the larvae carried to the rear of the
army, while the wasps fly around defenceless against the

92 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAN.

invading multitude. Or, if the nest of any other species of
ant is found, a similarly strong force — or perhaps the whole
army — is deflected towards it, and with the utmost energy the
innumerable insects set to work to sink shafts and dig mines
till the whole nest is rifled of its contents. In these mining
operations the ants work with an extraordinary display of
organized co-operation ; for those low down in the shafts do
not lose time by carrying up the earth which they excavate,
but pass the pellets to those above ; and the ants on the sur-
face, when they receive the pellets, carry them — with an
appearance of forethought which quite staggered Mr. Bates —
only just far enough to insure that they shall not roll back
again into the shaft, and, after depositing them, immediately
hurry back for more. But there is not a rigid (or merely
mechanical) division of labour : the work seems to be performed
by intelligent co-operation amongst a host of eager little
creatures ; for some of them act at one time as carriers of
pellets, and at another as miners, while all shortly afterwards
assume the office of conveyers of the spoil." *

Mr, Belt writes : — " The Ecitons and most other ants
follow each other by scent, and I believe they can communi-
cate the presence of danger, of booty, or other intelligence to
a distance by the different intensity or qualities of the odours
given off". I one day saw a column running along the foot of
a nearly perpendicular tramway cutting, the side of which
was about six feet high. At one point I noticed a sort of
assembly of about a dozen individuals that appeared in
consultation. Suddenly one ant left the conclave, and ran
with great speed up the perpendicular face of the cutting
without stopping. . . . On gaining the top of the cutting,
the ants entered some brushwood suitable for hunting. In a
very short time the information was communicated to the
ants below, and a dense column rushed up in search of prey."

Again, Mr. Bates writes: — "When I interfered with the
column, or abstracted an individual from it, news of the
disturbance was quickly communicated to a distance of several

* Animal Intelligence, pp. I14-116.

LANGUAGE. 93

yards to the rear, and the column at that point commenced
retreating."

On arriving at a stream of water, the marching cokimn
first endeavours to find some natural bridge whereby to cross
it. Should no such bridge be found, " they travel along the
bank of the river until they arrive at a flat sandy shore. Each
ant now seizes a bit of dry wood, pulls it into the water and
mounts thereon. The hinder rows push the front ones farther
out, holding on to the wood with their feet and to their
comrades with their jaws. In a short time the water is
covered with ants, and when the raft has grown too large to
be held together by the small creatures' strength, a part breaks
itself off, and begins the journey across, while the ants left
on the bank pull the bits of wood into the water, and work
at enlarging the ferry-boat until it breaks again. This is
repeated as long as an ant remains on shore." *

So much, then, to give a general idea of the extent to
which co-operation is exhibited by Ecitons — a fact which must
be taken to depend upon some system of signs. Turning next
to still more definite evidence of communication, Mr. Hague,
the geologist, writing to Mr. Darwin from South America, says
that on the mantel-shelf of his sitting-room there were three
vases habitually filled with fresh flowers. A nest of red ants
discovered these flowers, and formed a line to them, constantly
passing upwards and downwards between the mantel-shelf
and the floor, and also between the mantel-shelf and the
ceiling. For several days in succession Mr. Hague frequently
brushed the ants in great numbers from the wall to the floor,
but, as they were not killed, the line again reformed. One
day, however, he killed with his finger some of the ants upon
the mantel-shelf "The efi"ect of this was immediate and
unexpected. As soon as those ants which were approaching
arrived near to where their fellows lay dead and suffering,
they turned and fled with all possible haste. In half an hour
the wall above the mantel-shelf was cleared of ants. During
the space of an hour or two the colony from below continued
* Krcplin, quoted liy Ijliclincr.

94 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

to ascend until reaching the lower bevelled edge of the shelf,
at which point the more timid individuals, although unable
to sec the vase, somehow became aware of the trouble, and
turned without further investigation ; while the more daring
advanced hesitatingly just to the upper edge of the shelf,
when, extending their antennae and stretching their necks,
they seemed to peep cautiously over the edge until they beheld
their suffering companions, when they too turned and followed
the others, expressing by their behaviour great excitement
and terror. An hour or two later the path or trail leading
from the lower colony to the vase was entirely free from ants.
... A curious and invariable feature of their behaviour was
that when an ant, returning in fright, met another approach-
ing, the two would always communicate ; but each would
pursue its own way, the second ant continuing its journey to
the spot where the first ant had turned about, and then
following that example. For some days after this there were
no ants visible on the wall, either above or below the shelf.
Then a few ants from the lower colony began to reappear ; but
instead of visiting the vase, which had been the scene of the
disaster, they avoided it altogether, and, following the lower
front edge of the shelf to the tumbler standing near the middle,
made their attack upon that with precisely the same result."

Lastly, Sir John Lubbock made some experiments with
the express purpose of testing the power of communication
by ants. He found that if an ant discovered a deposit of
larvae outside the nest, she would return to the nest, and,
even though she might have no larv<-E to show, was able to
communicate her need of assistance — a number of friends
proceeding to follow her as a guide to the heap of larvee
which she had found.

In one very instructive experiment Sir John arranged
three parallel pieces of tape, each about two and a half feet
lono- : one end of each piece of tape was attached to the nest,
and the other dipped into a glass vessel. In the glass at the
end of one of the tapes he placed a considerable number of
larvse (300 to 600) : in the glass at the end of another of the

LANGUAGE. 95

pieces he put only two or three larva;, while the third glass
he left empty. The object of the empty glass was to see
whether any of the ants would come to the glass under such
circumstances by mere accident. He then took two ants, one
of which he placed in the glass with the many larvae, and the
other in the glass with the few. Each ant took a larva, car-
ried it to the nest, then returned for more, and so on. After
each journey he put another larva in the glass with the few
larvae, in order to replace the one which had been removed.
The result of the experiment was that during 47J hours the
ants which had gone to the glass containing numerous larvae
brought 257 friends to their assistance, while during 53 hours
those which had gone to the glass containing only two or three
larvae brought only 82 friends ; and no single ant came to the
glass which contained no larva. Now, as all the glasses were
exposed to similar conditions, and as the roads to the first
two must, in the first instance at all events, have been equally
scented by the passage of ants over them, these results
appear very conclusive as proving some power of definite
communication, not only that larvae are to be found, but even
where the largest store is to be met with.

As to the means of communication, or method of sign-
making, there can be no doubt that this in ants, as in bees, is
mainly gestures made by the antennae ; but that gestures of
other kinds are also employed is sufificiently well proved by
the following observation of the Rev. Dr. M'Cook. " I have
seen an ant kneel down before another and thrust forward
the head, drooping quite under in fact, and lie there motion-
less, thus expressing as plainly as sign-language could, her
desire to be cleansed. I at once understood the gesture, and
so did the supplicated ant, for she at once went to work."

So much, then, for the power of sign-making displayed by
the Hymenoptcra. As I have not much evidence of sign-
making in any of the other Invertebrata,* I shall pass on at
once to the Vertebrata.

* The best instances of sign-making among Invertebrata other than the
Ilymcnoptera which I have met with is one that I have myself olxservcd and

96 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

Ray observed the different tones used by the common
hen, and found them uniformly significant of different
ideas, or emotional states ; therefore we may properly
regard this as a system of language, though of a very
rudimentary form. He distinguishes altogether nine or ten
distinct tones, which are severally significant of as many
distinct emotions and ideas — namely, brooding, leading forth
the brood, finding food, alarm, seeking shelter, anger, pain,
fear, joy or pride in having laid an (tg^. Houzeau, who
independently observed this matter, says that the hen utters
at least twelve significant sounds.*

Many other cases could be given among Birds, and a still
greater number among Mammals, of vocal tones being used
as intentionally significant of states of feeling and of definite
ideas ; but to save space I will only render a few facts in a
condensed form.

"In Paraquay, the Cebits azarcB when excited utters at least
six distinct sounds, which excite in other monkeys similar
emotions (Rengger). ... It is a more remarkable fact that
the dog, since being domesticated, has learned to bark in at
least four or five distinct tones : . . . the bark of eagerness,
as in the chase ; that of anger, as well as growling ; the yelp,
or howl of despair, when shut up ; the baying at night ; the
bark of joy when starting on a walk with his master ; and the
very distinct one of demand or supplication, as when wishing
for a door or window to be opened." f

I may next briefly add allusions to those instances of the

already recorded in Mental Evohition in Animals (p. 343, note). The animal is
the processional caterpillar. These larvae migrate in the form of a long line,
crawling Indian file, with the head of the one touching the tail of the next in the
series. If one member of the series be removed, the next member in advance
immediately stops and begins to wag its head in a peculiar manner from side to
side. This serves as a signal for the next member also to stop and wag his head,
and so on till all the members in front of the interruption are at a standstill, all
wagging their heads. But as soon as the interval is closed up by the advance of
the rear of the column, the front again begins to move forward, when the head-
wagging ceases.

* Fac. Ment. des Animaux, tom. ii., p. 348.

t Darwin, Descent 0/ Man, pp. 84, 85.

LANGUAGE. 97

use of signs b}- mammals which arc full}' detailed in Animal
Intelligence.

Mr. S. Goodbehere tells me of a pony which used to push
back the inside bolt of a gate in its paddock, and neigh for
an ass which was loose in the yard beyond ; the ass would
then come and push up the outside latch, thus opening the
gate and releasing the pony (p. 333).

With respect to gestures, Mrs. K. Addison wrote me of
her jackdaw — which lived in a garden, and which she usually
supplied with a bath — reminding her that she had forgotten to
place the bath, by coming before her and going through the
movements of ablution upon the ground (p. 316).

Youatt gives the case of a pig which was trained to point
game with great precision (pp. 339,340), and this, as in the case
of the dog, implies a high development of the sign-making
faculty. Every sportsman must know how well a setter
understands its own pointing, and also the pointing of otJier
dogs, as gesture-signs. As regards its own pointing, if at any
distance from the sportsman, the animal will look back to see
if the "point" has been noticed ; and, if it has, the point will
be much more "steady" and prolonged than if the animal
sees that it has not been observed. As regards the pointing
of other dogs, the " backing " of one by another means that
as soon as one dog sees another dog point he also stands and
points, whether or not he is in a position to scent the game.
In my previous work, while treating of artificial instincts, I
have shown (as Mr. Darwin had previously remarked) that in
well-bred sporting dogs a tendency to " back," more or less
pronounced, is intuitive. But I have also observed among
my own setters that even in cases where a young dog does
not show any innate disposition to " back," by working him
with other dogs for a short time he soon acquires the habit,
without any other instruction than that which is supplied by
his own observation. I have also noticed that all sporting
dogs are liable to be deceived by the attitude which their
companions strike when defalcating ; but this is probably
due to their line of sight being so much lower than that of a

II

98 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

man, that slight differences of attitude are not so perceptible
to them as to ourselves.

Major Skinner writes of a large wild elephant which he saw
on a moonlight night coming out of a wood that skirted some
water. Cautiously advancing across the open ground to with-
in a hundred yards of the water, the animal stood perfectly
motionless — the rest of the herd, still concealed in the wood,
being all the while so quiet and motionless that not the least
sound proceeded from them. Gradually, after three successive
advances, halting some minutes after each, he moved up to
the water's edge, in which however he did not think proper
to quench his thirst, but remained for several minutes
listening in perfect stillness. He then returned cautiously
and slowly to the point at which he had issued from the
wood, whence he came back with five other elephants,
with which he proceeded, somewhat less slowly than before,
to within a few yards of the tank, where he posted them as
patrols. He then re-entered the wood and collected the whole
herd, which must have amounted to between eighty and a
hundred, and led them across the open ground, with the most
extraordinary composure and quiet, till they came up to the
five sentinels, when he left them for a moment and again
made a reconnaissance at the edge of the tank. At last,
being apparently satisfied that all was safe, he turned back,
and obviously gave the order to advance ; " for in a moment,"
says Major Skinner, " the whole herd rushed to the watc-r,
with a degree of unreserved confidence so opposite to the
caution and timidity which had marked their previous
movements, that nothing will ever persuade me that there
was not rational and preconcerted co-operation throughout
the whole party" — and so, of course, some definite communi-
cation by signs (p. 40 1).

With regard to the use of gesture-signs by cats, I have
given such cases as those of their imitating the begging of a
terrier on observing that the terrier received food in answer to
this gesture (p. 414) ; making a peculiar noise on desiring to
have a door opened, which, if not attended to, was followed

LANGUAGE. 9")

up by "pulling one's dress with its claws, and then, having
succeeded in attracting the desired attention, it would walk to
the street door and stop there, making the same cry until let
out" (p. 414) ; also of a cat which, on seeing her friend the
parrot " flapping its wings and struggling violently up to its
knees in dough," ran upstairs after the cook to inform her of
the catastrophe — " mewing and making what signs she could
for her to go down," till at last " she jumped up, seized her
apron, and tried to drag her down," so that the cook did go
down in time to save the bird from being smothered. This
gesture-sign of pulling at clothing, in order to induce one to
visit a scene of catastrophe, is of frequent occurrence both in
cats and dogs. Several instances are likewise given of cats
jumping on chairs and looking at bells when they want milk
(this being intended as a sign that they desire the bell pulled
to call the servant who brings the milk), placing their paws
upon the bell as a still more emphatic sign, or even themselves
ringing the bell (p. 416).

Concerning gesture-signs made by dogs (other than point-
ing), I may allude to a terrier which I had, and which when
thirsty used to signify his desire for water by begging before
a wash-stand, or any other object where he knew that
water was habitually kept. And Sir John Lefroy, F.R.S,,
gave me a similar, though still more striking, case of his
terrier, which it was the duty of a maid-servant to supply
with milk. One morning this servant was engaged on some
needlework, and did not supply the milk. "The dog en-
deavoured in every possible way to attract her attention and
draw her forth, and at last pushed aside the curtain of a
closet, and, although never having been taught to fetch or
carry, took between his teeth the cup she habitually used, and
brought it to her feet " (p. 466). Another case somewhat simi-
lar is given on the same page.

Again, Mr. A. H. Browning wrote me : — " My attention
was called to my dog appearing in a great state of excitement,
not barking (he seldom barks) but whining, and performing
all sorts of antics (in a human subject I should have said

TOO MEXTAL EVOLUTIOX IN MAN.

gesticulating). The hcrdmcn and myself returned to the sty ;
we caught but one pig, and put him back ; no sooner had we
done so, than tlie dog ran after each pig in succession, brought
him back to the sty by the ear, and then went after another,
until the whole number were again housed " (p. 450).

Further, I give an observation of my own (p. 445) on one
terrier making a gesture-sign to another. Terrier A being
asleep in my house, and terrier B lying on a wall outside, a
strange dog, C, ran along below the wall on the public road
following a dog-cart. Immediately on seeing C, B jumped
off the wall, ran upstairs to where A was asleep, woke him up
by poking him with his nose in a determined and suggestive
manner, which A at once understood as a sign : he jumped
over the wall and pursued the dog C, although C was by that
time far out of sight, round a bend in the road.

On page 447 I give, on the authority of Dr. Bcattie, the
case of a dog which saved his master's life (who had fallen
through the ice, and was supporting himself with a gun
placed across the opening), by running into a neighbouring
village, and pulling a man by the coat in so significant a
manner that he followed the animal and rescued the gentle-
man. Many cases more or less similar to this one are recorded
in the anecdote books.

Concerning the use of gesture-signs by monkeys, I give on
page 472 the remarkable case recorded by James Forbes,
F.R.S., of a male monkey begging the body of a female
which had just been shot. " The animal," says Forbes, " came
to the door of the tent, and, finding threats of no avail, began
a lamentable moaning, and by the most expressive gestures
seemed to beg for the dead body. It was given him ; he took
it sorrowfully in his arms and bore it away to his expecting
companions. They who were witnesses of this extraordinary
scene resolved never again to fire at one of the monkey race."

Again, Captain Johnson writes of a monkey which he shot
upon a tree, and which then, as he says, " instantly ran down
to the lowest branch of a tree, as if he were going to fly at me,
stopped suddenly, and coolly put his paw to the part wounded.

LA.YGUAGE. 10 1

covered with blood, and held it out for me to see. I was S3
much hurt at the time that it has left an impression never to
be effaced, and I have never since fired a gun at any of the
tribe. Almost immediately on my return to the party, before
I had fully described what had passed, a Syer came to inform
us that the monkey was dead. We ordered the Syer to bring
it to us ; but by the time he returned the other monkeys had
carried the dead one off, and none of them could anywhere be
seen " (p. 475).

And Sir William Hoste records a closely similar case. One
of his officers, coming home after a long day's shooting, saw a
female monkey running along the rocks, with her young one
in her arms. He immediately fired, and the animal fell. On
his coming up, she grasped her little one close to her breast,
and with her other hand pointed to the wound which the ball
had made, and which had entered above her breast. Dipping
her finger in the blood and holding it up, she seemed to
reproach him with having been the cause of her pain, and
also of that of the young one, to which she frequently
pointed. " I never," says Sir William, " felt so much as when
I heard the story, and I determined never to shoot one of
these animals as long as I lived " (p. 476).

Lastly, as proof that the more intelligent of the lower
animals admit of being taught the use of signs of the most con-
ventional character (or most remote from any natural ex-
pression of their feelings and ideas), I may allude to the
recent experiments by Sir John Lubbock on "teaching ani-
mals to converse." These experiments consisted in writing
on separate and similar cards such words as "bone," " water,"
" out," " pet me," &c., and teaching a dog to bring a card
bearing the word expressive of his want at the time of bring-
ing it. In this way an association of ideas was established
between the appearance of a certain number and form of
written signs, and the meaning which they severally betokened.
Sir John Lubbock found that his dog learnt the correct use
of those signs.* Of course in these experiments marks of

* NiUiirc, A|iri] 10, 1SS4, pji. 547, 548.

103 ME XT A L EVOLUTION IN MAN

any other kind would have served as well as written words ;
for it clearly would be absurd to suppose that the dog could
read the letters, so as mentally to construct them into the
equivalent of a spoken word, in any such way as a child would
spell b-o-n-e, bone. But, all the same, these experiments
are of great interest as showing that it falls within the
mental capacity of the more intelligent animals to appreciate
the use of signs so conventional as those which constitute a
stage of writing above the drawing of pictures, and below the
employment of an alphabet.

Enough has now been said to prove incontestably that
animals present what I have called the germ of the sign-
making faculty. As the main object of these chapters is to
estimate the probability of human language having arisen by
v»-ay of a continuous development from this germ, we may
next turn to take a general survey of human language in its
largest sense, or as comprising all the manifestations of the
sign-making faculty.

Referring again to the schema (page 88), it is needless to
consider cases i and 2, for evidently these are on a psycho-
logical level in man and animals. Case 3, also, especially in the
direction of its branch 4, is to a large extent psychologically
equivalent in men and animals: so far as there is any difference
it depends on the higher psychical nature of man being much
more rich in ideas which find their natural expression in
gestures or tones, and which, therefore, are impossible in brutes.
But it will be conceded that here there is nothing to explain.
The fact that man has a mind more richly endowed with
ideas carries with it, as a matter of course, the fact that
their natural expression is more multiplex.

The case, however, is different when we arrive at con-
ventional signs ; for these attain so enormous a development
in man as compared with animals, that the question whether
they do not really depend on some additional mental faculty,
distinct in kind, becomes fully admissible.

The first thing, then, we have to notice with regard to con-

LANGUAGE. I03

ventional signs as used by man is, that no line of strict
demarcation can be drawn between them and natural signs ;
the latter shade off into the former by gradations, which it
becomes impossible to detect over large numbers of individual
cases. With respect to tones, for example, it cannot be said,
in many instances, whether this and that modulation, which is
now recognized as expressive of a certain state of feeling, has
always been thus expressive, or has only become so by con-
ventional habit; although, if \ve consider the different tones by
which different races of mankind express some of their similar
feelings, we may be sure that in these cases one or other of the
differences must be due to conventional habit — ^just as in the
converse cases, in which all mankind use the same tones to
express the same feelings, we may be sure that this mode
of expression is natural. And so with gestures. Many which
at first sight we should, judging from our own feelings alone,
suppose to be natural — such, for instance, as kissing —are
shown by observation of primitive races to be conventional ;
while others which we should probably regard as conventional
— such, for instance, as shrugging the shoulders — are shown
by the same means to be natural.*

But for our present purposes it is clearly a matter of no
consequence that we should be able to classify all signs as
natural or conventional. For it is certain that animals employ
both; and hence no distinction between the brute and the man
can be raised on the question of the kind of signs which they
severally employ as natural or conventional. This distinction,
therefore, may in future be disregarded, and natural and
conventional signs, if made intentionally as signs, I shall con-
sider as identical. For the sake of method, however, I shall
treat the sign-making faculty as exhibited by man in the
order of its probable evolution ; and this means that I shall
begin with the most natural, or least conventional, of the
systems. This is the language of tone and gesture.

* For information on all these points, see Darwin, Expression of the Emotions.

104 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

CHAPTER VI.

TONE AND GESTURE.

Tone and Gesture, considered as means of communication,
may be dealt with simultaneously. For while it cannot be
said that either historically or psychologically one is prior to
the other, no more can it be said that in the earliest phases of
their development one is more expressive than the other. All
the more intelligent of the lower animals employ both ; and
the hissings, spittings, growling.s, screamings, gruntings, coo-
ings, &c., which in different species accompany as many
different kinds of gesture, are assuredly not less expressive of
the various kinds of feelings which are expressed. Again, in
our own species, tone is quite as general, and, within certain
limits, quite as expressive as gesture. Nay, even in fully
developed speech, rational meaning is largely dependent for
its conve)-ance upon slight differences of intonation. The
five hundred words which go to constitute the Chinese
language are raised to three times that number by the use of
significant intonation ; and even in the most highly developed
languages shades of meaning admit of being rendered in this
way which could not be rendered in any other.

Nevertheless, the language of tone, like the language of
gesture, clearly lies nearer to, and is more immediately
expressive of the logic of recepts, than is the language of
articulation. This is easily proved by all the facts at our dis-
posal. We know that an infant makes considerable advance
in the language of tone and gesture before it begins to speak;
and, according to Dr. Scott, who has had a large experience

TONE AND GESTURE. I05

in the instruction of idiotic children, "those to whom there is
no hope of teaching more than the merest rudiments of speech,
are yet capable of receiving a considerable amount of know-
ledge by means of signs, and of expressing themselves by
them." * Lastly, among savages, it is notorious that tone,
gesticulation, and grimace play a much larger part in con-
versation than they do among ourselves. Indeed, w^e have
some, though not undisputed, evidence to show that in the
case of many savages gesticulation is so far a necessary aid
to articulation, that the latter without the former is but very
imperfectly intelligible. For example, "those who, like the
Arapahos, possess a very scanty vocabulary, pronounced in a
quasi-intelligible way, can hardly converse with one another
in the dark." \ And, as Mr. Tylor says, " the array of
evidence in favour of the existence of tribes whose language
is incomplete without the help of gesture-signs, even for
things of ordinary import, is very remarkable." % A fact
which, as he very properly adds, " constitutes a telling
argument in favour of the theory that the gesture-language
is the original utterance of mankind [as it is ontogenetically
in the individual man], out of wdiich speech has developed
itself more or less fully among different tribes." %

In support of the same general conclusions I may here
also quote the following excellent remarks from Colonel
Mallery's laborious work on Gesture-language : — §

" The wishes and emotions of very young children arc
conveyed in a small number of sounds, but in a great variety
of gestures and facial expressions. A child's gestures are in-
telligent long in advance of speech ; although very early and
persistent attempts are made to give it instruction in the
latter but none in the former, from the time when it begins
risu cogfioscere viatrein. It learns words only as they are

* Quoted by Tylor, Early History 0/ Mankind, p. 80.
t I'urton, Cily of the Saints, j). 151.
X f.oc. cit., p. 78.

§ Sii;n-la7iguage among the North American Indians, b'c, by Lieut. -Col. Garrick
-Mailery {^First Annual R>poii of the Bureau of Ethnology, Washington, 18S1).

JO) mi;. VTA L EVOLUTIO.W IX MAX.

taught, and learns them through the medium of signs which
are not expressly taught. Long after famiharity with speech,
it consults the gestures and facial expressions of its parents
and nurses, as if seeking thus to translate or explain their
words. These facts are important in reference to the biologic
law that the order of development of the individual is the
same as that of the species. . . . The insane understand and
obey gestures when they have no knowledge whatever of
words. It is also found that semi-idiotic children who cannot
be taught more than the merest rudiments of speech can
receive a considerable amount of information through signs,
and can express themselves by them. Sufferers from aphasia
continue to use appropriate gestures. A stammerer, too,
works his arms and features as if determined to get his
thoughts out, in a manner not only suggestive of the physical
struggle, but of the use of gestures as a hereditary expedient."

Words, then, in so far as they are not intentionally imi-
tative of other sounds, and so approximate to gestures, are
essentially more conventional than are tones immediately
expressive of emotions, or bodily actions which appeal to the
eye, and which, in so far as they are intentionally significant,
are made, as far as possible, intentionally pictorial. Therefore,
either to make or to understand these more conventional
signs requires a higher order of mental evolution ; and on this
account it is that we everywhere find the language of tone
and gesture preceding that of articulate speech, as at once
the more simple, more natural, and therefore more primitive
means of conveying receptual ideas.

We find the same general truth exemplified in the fact
that the language of tone and gesture is always resorted to
by men who do not understand each others' articulate speech ;
and although among the races in which gesture-language has
been carried to its highest degree of elaboration most of the
signs employed have become more or less conventional, in the
main they are still pictorial. This is directly proved, without
the need of special analysis, by the fact that the members of
such races are able to communicate with one another in a

TONE AND GESTURE. TO"

manner so singularly complete that to an onlooker the result
seems almost magical.

Thus "the Indians who have been shown over the
civilized East have often succeeded in holding intercourse by
means of their invention and application of principles, in what
may be called the voiceless mother utterance, with white deaf-
mutes, who surely have no semiotic code more nearly
connected with that attributed to the Indians than is derived
from their common humanity. They showed the greatest
pleasure in meeting deaf-mutes, precisely as travellers in a
foreign country are rejoiced to meet persons speaking their
language." *

Again, Tylor says, " Gesture-language is substantially the
same all the world over," and Mallery confirms this by the
remark that " the writer's study not only sustains it, but shows
a surprising number of signs for the same idea which are
substantially identical, not only among savage tribes, but
among all peoples that use gesture-signs with any freedom.
Men, in groping for a mode of communication with each other,
and using the same general methods, have been under many
varying conditions and circumstances which have determined
differently many conceptions and their semiotic execution, but
there have also been many of both which were similar."

Such being the case, it is a matter of interest to determine
the syntax of this language ; for we may be sure that by so
doing we are at work upon the root-principles of the sign-
making faculty where it arises out of the logic of recepts,
and not upon the developed ramifications of this faculty
where we find it wrought up into the more highly conven-
tional logic of concepts characteristic of speech. But before I
enter upon this branch of our subject, I shall say a few words
to show to what a high degree of perfection gesture-language
admits of being developed.

* Mallery, loc. cit., p. 320. The author gives several very interesting records
of such conversations, and adds that the mutes show more aptitude in understand
ing the Indians than vice versa, because to them " the 'action, action, action,' of
Di'mosthenes is their only oratory, and not a heightening of it, however vahinhle."

I08 MEXTAL EVOLUTIOX IN MAX.

Tylor observes : — " As a means of communication, there is
no doubt that the Indian pantomime is not merely capable of
expressing a few simple and ordinary notions, but that to the
uncultured savage, with his few and material ideas, it is a very
fair substitute for his scanty vocabulary." * And Colonel
Mallcry, in the admirable treatise already referred to, shows in
detail to what a surprising extent this " Indian pantomime" is
thus available as a substitute for speech. The following may be
selected from among the numerous dialogues and discourses
which he gives, and which all present the same general
character. It is communicated by Mr. Ivan Pehoff, who took
notes of the conversation at the time. The two convcrsers
were Indians of different tribes.

"(i) Kenaitze. — Left hand raised to height of eye, palm
outward, moved several times from right to left rapidly ;
fingers extended and closed ; pointing to strangers with left
hand. Right hand describes a curve from north to east. —
' Which of the north-eastern tribes is yours ? '

"(2) Tennanal. — Right hand, hollowed, lifted to mouth,
then extended and describing waving line gradually descend-
ing from right to left. Left hand describing mountainous
outline, apparently one peak rising above the other. Said by
Chalidoolts to mean, ' Tenan-tnu-kohtana, Mountain-river-
men.'

"(3) K. — Left hand raised to height of eye, palm outward,
moved from right to left, fingers extended. Left index
describes curve from east to west. Outline of mountain and
river as in preceding sign. — ' How many days from Mountain-
river ? '

"(4) T. — Right hand raised towards index, and thumb
forming first crescent and then ring. This repeated three
times. — 'Moon, new and full three times.'

"(5) Right hand raised, palm to front, index raised and
lowered at regular intervals— 'Walked.' Both hands imitating
paddling of canoe, alternately right and left. — ' Travelled three
months on foot and by canoe.'

* Loc. (it. , ji. 39.

TONE AND GESTURE. ICQ

"(6) Both arms crossed over breast, simulating shivering.
— ' Cold, winter.'

" (7) Right index pointing toward speaker. — ' I ' ; left hand
pointing to the west — ' travelled westward.'

"(8) Right hand lifted cup-shaped to mouth — 'Water.'
Right hand describing waving line from right to left gradually
descending, pointing to the west. — ' River running westward.'

"(9) Right hand gradually pushed forward, palm upward,
from height of breast. Left hand shading eyes ; looking at
great distance. — 'Very wide.'

"(10) Left and right hands put together in shape of
sloping shelter. — ' Lodge, camp.'

"(11) Both hands lifted height of eye, palm inward, fingers
spread. — ' Many times.'

"(12) Both hands closed, palm outward, height of hips. —
' Surprised.'

"(13) Index pointing from eye forward. — 'See.'

" (14) Right hand held up, height of shoulder, three fingers
extended, left hand pointing to me. — 'Three white men.'

"(15) K. — Right hand pointing to me, left hand held up,
three fingers extended. — 'Three white men.'

"(16) Making Russian sign of cross — ' Russians.' — ' Were
the three white men Russians } '

"(17) T. — Left hand raised, palm inward, two fingers
extended sign of cross with right. — 'Two Russians.'

"(18) Right hand extended, height of eye, palm outward,
moved outward a little to right. — ' No.'

" (19) One finger of left hand raised. — 'One.'

"(20) Sign of cross with right. — 'Russian.'

"(21) Right hand, height of eye, fingers closed and
extended, palm outward a little to right. — ' Yes.'

"(22) Right hand carried across chest, hand extended,
palm upward, fingers and thumb closed as if holding some-
thing. Left hand in same position carried across the right,
palm downward. — 'Trade.'

"(23) Left hand upholding one finger, right pointing to
me. — ' One white man.'

no MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MA.y.

"(24) Right hand held horizontally, palm downward,
about four feet from ground. — 'Small.'

"(25) Forming rings before eyes with index and thumb. —
* Eye-glasses.'

"(26) Right hand clinched, palm upward, in front of chest,
thumb pointing inward. — ' Gave one.'

"(27) Forming cup with right hand, simulating drinking.
— ' Drink.'

" (28) Right hand grasping chest repeatedly, fingers
curved and spread. — ' Strong.'

" (29) Both hands pressed to temple, and head moved
from side to side.—' Drunk, headache.'

"(30) Both index fingers placed together extended, point-
ing forward. — ' Together.'

"(31) Fingers interlaced repeatedly. — 'Build.'

"(32) Left hand extended, fingers closed, placed slopingly
against left. — ' Camp.'

"(33) Both wrists placed against temples, hands curved
upward and outward, fingers spread. — ■' Horns.'

"(34) Both hands horizontally lifted to height of shoulder,
right arm extended gradually full length, hand drooping a
little at the end. — ' Long back, moose.'

"(35) Both hands upright, palm outward, fingers extended
and spread, placing one before the other alternately. — ' Trees,
dense forest.'

" (36) Sign of cross. — ' Russian.'

" (37) Motions of shooting again. — ' Shot.'

" (38) Sign for moose (Nos. 33, 34) ; showing two fingers of
left hand. — ' Two.'

"(39) Sign for camp as before (No. 10). — 'Camp.'

" (40) Right hand describing curve from east to west,
twice. — ' Two days.'

"(41) Left hand lifted height of mouth, back outward,
fingers closed as if holding something ; right hand simulating
motion of tearing off, and placing in mouth. — ' Eating moose
meat'

" (42) Right hand placed horizontally against heart ;

TOXE AND GESTURE. I I I

fingers closed, moved forward a little and raised a little
several times. — ' Glad at heart.'

"(43) Fingers of left hand and index of right hand
extended and placed together horizontally, pointing forward
height of chest. Hands separated, right pointing eastw^ard,
and left westward. — ' Three men and speaker parted, going
west and east' "

And so on, the conversation continuing up to 116 para-
graphs. No doubt some of these gestures appear conventional,
and such is undoubtedly the case with a great many which
Colonel ]\Iallery gives in his Dictionary of Indian Signs. But
this only shows that no system of signs can be developed in
any high degree without becoming more or less conventional.
The point I desire to be noticed is, that gesture-language
continues as far as possible — or as long as possible — to be the
natural expression of the logic of recepts. As INIallery else-
where observes, " the result of the studies, so far as presented
is, that that which is called the sign- language of Indians is
not, properly speaking, one language ; but that it, and the
gesture-systems of deaf-mutes, and of all peoples, constitute
together one language — the gesture-speech of mankind — of
which each system is a dialect." As showing this, and at the
same time to give other instances of the perfection of gesture-
language, I may quote one instance of the employment of
such language by other nations, and one of is employment
by deaf-mutes. The first which I select is recorded by
Alexander Dumas.

" Six weeks after this, I saw a second example of this
faculty of mute communication. This was at Naples. I was
walking with a young man of Syracuse. We passed by a
sentinel. The soldier and my companion exchanged two or
three grimaces, which at another time I should not even ha\'c
noticed ; but the instances I had before seen led me to give
attention. ' Poor fellow ! ' sighed my companion. ' What did
he say to you } ' I asked. ' Well,' said he, ' I thought that I
recognized him as a Sicilian, and I learned from him, as \\c
passed, from what place he came ; he said he was frcm

I I 2 MEXTAL EVOLUTION IN MAX.

Syracuse, and that he knew riie well. Then I asked him how he
liked the Neapolitan service ; he said he did not like it at all,
and if his officers did not treat him better he should certainly
end by deserting. I then signified to him that if he ever
should be reduced to that extremity, he might rely upon me,
and that I would aid him all in my power. The poor fellow
thanked me with all his heart, and I have no doubt that one
day or other I shall see him come.' Three days after I was
at the quarters of my Syracusan friend, when he was told
that a man asked to see him who would not give his name ;
he went out and left me nearly ten minutes. ' Well,' said he
on returning, 'just as I said.' 'What.'' said I. 'That the
poor fellow would dc.-crt.' "

The instance which I select of gesture-language as em-
ployed by a deaf-mute occurred in the National Deaf-Mute
College at Washington, to which Colonel Mallery took seven
Uta Indians on March 6, 1880.

" Another deaf-mute gestured to tell us that, when he was
a boy, he went to a melon-field, tapped several melons,
finding them to be green or unripe : finally, reaching a good
one, he took his knife, cut a slice and ate it. A man made
his appearance on horseback, entered the patch on foot,
found the cut melon, and, detecting the thief, threw the
melon towards him, hitting him in the back, whereupon he
ran away crying. The man mounted and rode off in an
opposite direction.

"All of these signs were readily comprehended, although
some of the Indians varied very slightly in their translation.
When the Indians were asked whether, if they (the deaf-
mutes) were to come to the Uta country, they would be
scalped, the answer was given, ' Nothing would be done to
you ; but we would be friends,' as follows : —

"The palm of the right hand was brushed toward the
right over that of the left (' nothing '), and the right made to
grasp the palm of the left, thumbs extended over, and lying
upon the back of the opposing hand (' friends ').

"This was readily understood b)- the deaf-mutes. Deaf-

TONE AND GESTURE. 1 1 3

mute sign of milking a cow and drinking the milk was fully
and quickly understood.

"The narrative of a boy going to an apple tree, hunting
for ripe fruit, and filling his pockets, being surprised by the
owner and hit upon the head with a stone, was much
appreciated by the Indians and completely understood."

Innumerable other instances of the same kind might be
given ; * but I have now said enough to establish the only
points with which I am here concerned — namely, that gesture-
language admits of being developed to a degree which
renders it a fair substitute for spoken language, where the
ideas to be conveyed are not highly abstract ; and that it
admits of being so developed without departing further from
a direct or natural expression of ideation (as distinguished
from a conventional or artificial) than allows it to be readily
understood by the sign-talkers, without any preconcerted
agreement as to the meanings to be attached to the particular
signs em.ployed.

Such being the case, it is of importance next to note that,
as all the existing races of mankind are a word-speaking race,
we are not now able to eliminate this factor, and to say how
far the sign-making faculty, as exhibited in the gesture-
language of man, is indebted to the elaborating influence
produced by the constant and parallel employment of spoken
language. We can scarcely, however, entertain any doubt
that the reflex influence of speech upon gesture must have
been considerable, if not immense. Even the case of the
deaf-mutes proves nothing to the contrary ; for these
unfortunate individuals, although not able themselves to
speak, nevertheless inherit in their human brains the psycho-
logical structure which has been built up by means of speech ;
their sign-making faculty is as well developed as in other
men, though, from a physiological accident, they are deprived
of the ordinary means of displaying it. Therefore we have

• .See especially Tylor, loc. cif., pp. 28-30, where an interesting account is
given of the elaborate and yet self-speaking signs \vhcrcl)y an adult deaf-mute gave
directions for the drawing up of his will,

I

1 1 4 MENTA L EVOL UTION IN MA N.

no evidence to show to what level of excellence the sign-
making faculty of man would have attained, if the race had
been destitute of the faculty of speech. I shall have to
return to this consideration in the next chapter, and only
mention it here to avoid an undue estimate being prematurely
formed of the importance of gesture as a means of thought-
formation, or distinct from that of thought-expression.

I shall now proceed to analyze in some detail the syntax
of gesture-language. And here again I must depend for my
facts upon the two writers who have best studied this kind of
language in a properly scientific manner.

Mr. Tylorsays : — "The gesture-language has no grammar,
properly so called ; it knows no inflections of any kind, any
more than the Chinese. The same sign stands for 'walk,'
'walkest,' 'walking,' 'walked,' 'walker.' Adjectives and
verbs are not easily distinguished by the deaf and dumb.
' Horse, black, handsome, trot, canter,' would be the rough
translation of the signs by which a deaf-mute would state
that a black handsome horse trots and canters. Indeed, our
elaborate system of parts of speech is but little applicable to
the gesture-language, though, as will be more fully said in
another chapter, it may perhaps be possible to trace in spoken
language a Dualism, in some measure resembling that of the
Gesture-language, with its two constituent parts, the bringing
forward objects and actions in actual fact, and the mere
suggestion of them by imitation. ... It has, however, a syn-
tax which is worthy of careful examination. The syntax of
speaking man differs according to the language he may learn,
'equus niger,' 'a black horse;' 'hominem amo,' 'j'aime
I'homme.' But the deaf-mute strings together the signs of the
various ideas he wishes to connect, in what appears to be the
natural order in which they follow one another in his mind,
for it is the same among the mutes in different countries, and
is wholly independent of the syntax which may happen to
belong to the language of their speaking friends. For
instance, their usual construction is not ' Black horse,' but
' Horse black ; ' not ' Bring a black hat,' but ' Hat black bring ; '

TONE AND GESTURE. 115

not ' I am hungry, give me bread,' but ' Hungry me, bread
give.' ...

"The fundamental principle which regulates the order of
the deaf-mutes' signs, seems to be that enunciated by Schmalz :
that which seems to him the most important he always acts
before the rest, and that which seems to him superfluous he
leaves out. For instance, to say, ' My father gave me an
apple,' he makes the sign for ' apple,' then that for ' father,'
and then that for ' I,' without adding that for ' give.' The
following remarks, sent to me by Dr. Scott, seem to agree
with this view : With regard to the two sentences you give
(I struck Tom with a stick — Tom struck me with a stick), the
sequence in the introduction of the particular parts would in
some measure depend on the part that most attention was
wished to be drawn towards. If a mere telling of the fact
was required, my opinion is that it would be arranged so, ' I-
Tom-struck-a-stick,' and the passive form in a similar
manner with the change of ' Tom/ first.

" Both these sentences are not generally said by the deaf-
and-dumb without their having been interested in the fact,
and then, in coming to tell of them, they first give that part
they are most anxious to impress on their hearer. Thus, if a
boy had struck another boy, and the injured party came to
tell us, if he was desirous to acquaint us with the idea that a
particular boy did it, he would point to the boy first. But if
he was anxious to draw attention to his own suffering, rather
than to the person by whom it was caused, he would point to
himself and make the act of striking, and then point to the
boy ; or if he was wishful to draw attention to the cause of
his suffering, he might sign the striking first, and then tell us
afterwards by whom it was done.

" Dr. Scott is, so far as I know, the only person who has
attempted to lay down a set of distinct rules for the syntax
of the gesture-language. ' The subject comes before the
attribute, the object before the action.' A third construction
is common, though not necessary, ' the modifier after the
modified.' The first construction, by which the 'horse' is put

Il6 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

before the ' black,' enables the deaf-mute to make his s)-ntax
supply, to some extent, the distinction between adjectives and
substantives, which his imitative signs do not themselves
express.

" The other two are well exemplified by a remark of the
Abb^ Sicard's : A pupil to whom I one day put this question,
' Who made God ? ' and who replied, ' God made nothing,'
left me in no doubt as to this kind of inversion, usual to the
deaf-and-dumb, when I went on to ask him, ' Who made the
shoe ? ' and he answered, ' The shoe made the shoemaker.'
So when Laura Bridgman, who was blind as well as deaf-
and-dumb, had learnt to communicate ideas by spelling words
on her fingers, she would say, ' Shut door,' ' Give book ; ' no
doubt because she had learnt these sentences whole, but when
she made sentences for herself, she would go back to the
natural deaf-and-dumb syntax, and spell out 'Laura bread
give,' to ask for bread to be given her, and ' Water drink
Laura,' to express that she wanted to drink water. . . .

" A look of inquiry converts an assertion into a question,
and fully seems to make the difference between ' The master
is come,' and ' Is the master come ? ' The interrogative pro-
nouns 'Who?' 'What?' are made by looking or pointing
about in an inquiring manner ; in fact, by a number of
unsuccessful attempts to say, ' he,' ' that' The deaf-and-
dumb child's way of asking, ' Who has beaten you } ' would be,
' You beaten ; who was it ? ' Though it is possible to render
a great mass of simple statements and questions, almost
gesture for word, the concretism of thought which belongs to
the deaf-mute, whose mind has not been much developed by
the use of written language, and even to the educated one
when he is thinking and uttering his thoughts in his native
signs, commonly requires more complex phrases to be recast,
A question so common amongst us as, ' What is the matter
with you ? ' would be put, ' You crying } You have been
beaten } ' and so on. The deaf-and-dumb child does not ask,
' What did you have for dinner yesterday } ' but ' Did you
have soup ? Did you have porridge ? ' and so forth. A con-

TONE AND GESTURE. II7

junctive sentence he expresses by an alternative or contrast ;
' I should be punished if I were lazy and naughty,' would be
put, ' I lazy, naughty, no ! — lazy, naughty, I punished, yes ! '
Obligation may be expressed in a similar way ; ' I must love
and honour my teacher,' may be put, ' Teacher, I beat, deceive,
scold, no ! — I love, honour, yes ! ' As Steinthal says in his
admirable essay, it is only the certainty which speech gives to
a man's mind in holding fast ideas in all their relations,
which brings him to the shorter course of expressing only the
positive side of the idea, and dropping the negative, . . .

" To ' make ' is too abstract an idea for the deaf-mute ; to
show that the tailor makes the coat, or that the carpenter
makes the table, he would represent the tailor sewing the
coat, and the carpenter sawing and planing the table. Such
a proposition as ' Rain makes the land fruitful,' would not
come into his way of thinking : ' rain fall, plants grow,'
would be his pictorial expression. . . . The order of the signs
by which the Lord's Prayer is rendered is much as follows : —
' Father our, heaven in — name Thy hallowed — kingdom Thy
come — will Thy done — earth on, heaven in, as. Bread give us
daily — trespasses our forgive us, them trespass against us,
forgive as. Temptation lead not — but evil deliver from —
Kingdom power glory thine for ever.' " *

I shall now add some quotations from Colonel Mallery on
the same subject.

" The reader will understand without explanation that
there is in sign-language no organized sentence such as is in
the language of civilization, and that he must not look for
articles or particles, or passive voice or case or grammatic
gender, or even what appears in those languages as a
substantive or a verb, as a subject or a predicate, or as
qualifiers or inflexions. The sign radicals, without being
specifically any of our parts of speech, may be all of them in
turn. Sign-language cannot show by inflection the reciprocal
(lepciidencc of words and sentences. Degrees of motion
corresponding with vocal intonations are only used rhctori-

* Early History 0/ Maii/Jiui, pp. 24-32.

Il8 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

cally, or for degrees of comparison. The relations of ideas
and objects are therefore expressed by placement, and their
connection is established when necessary by the abstraction
of ideas. The sign-talker is an artist, grouping persons and
things so as to show the relations, and the effect is that which
is seen in a picture. But though the artist has the advantage
in presenting in a permanent connected scene the result of
several transient signs, he can only present it as it appears at
a single moment. The sign-talker has the succession of time
at his disposal, and his scenes move and act, are localized and
animated, and their arrangement is therefore more varied
and significant." *

The following is the order in which the parable of the
Prodigal Son would be translated by a cultivated sign-talker,
with Colonel Mallery's remarks thereon : —

" ' Once, man one, sons two. Son younger say. Father
property your divide: part my, me give. Father so.— Son
each, part his give. Days few after, son younger money all
take, country far go, money spend, wine drink, food nice eat.
Money by and by gone all. Country everywhere food little :
son huno-ry very. Go seek man any, me hire. Gentleman
meet. Gentleman son send field swine feed. Son swine husks
eat, see — self husks eat want — cannot — husks him give nobody.
Son thinks, say, father my, servants many, bread enough, part
give away can — I none — starve, die. I decide : Father I go
to, say I bad, God disobey, you disobey — name my hereafter
S071, no — I unworthy. You me work give servant like. So
son begin go. Father far look : son see, pity, run, meet,
embrace. Son father say, I bad, you disobey, God disobey —
name my hereafter son, no — I unworthy. But father servants
call, command robe best bring, son put on, ring finger put on,
shoes feet put on, calf fat bring, kill. We all eat, merry. Why?
Son this my formerly dead, now alive : formerly lost, now
found : rejoice.'

" It may be remarked, not only from this example, but
from general study, that the verb ' to be ' as a copula or

* Loc. cit., p. 54.

TONE AND GESTURE. II9

predicant does not have any place in sign-language. It is
shown, however, among deaf-mutes as an assertion of presence
or existence by a sign of stretching the arms and hands
forward and then adding the sign of affirmation. Time as
referred to in the conjunctions zvheii and then is not gestured.
Instead of the form, ' When I have had a sleep I will go to
the river,' or ' After sleeping I will go to the river,' both deaf-
mutes and Indians would express the intention by ' Sleep done,
I river go.' Though time present, past, and future is readily
expressed in signs, it is done once for all in the connection to
which it belongs, and once established is not repeated by any
subsequent intimation, as is commonly the case in oral speech.
Inversion, by which the object is placed before the action, is
a striking feature of the language of deaf-mutes, and it
appears to follow the natural method by which objects and
actions enter into the mental conception. In striking a rock
the natural conception is not first of the abstract idea of
striking or of sending a stroke into vacancy, seeing nothing
and having no intention of striking anything in particular,
when suddenly a rock rises up to the mental vision and
receives the blow ; the order is that the man sees the rock,
has the intention to strike it, and does so ; therefore he
gestures, ' I rock strike.' For further illustration of this
subject, a deaf-mute boy, giving in signs the compound action
of a man shooting a bird from a tree, first represented the
tree, then the bird as alighting upon it, then a hunter coming
toward and looking at it, taking aim with a gun, then the
report of the latter and the falling and the dying gasps of
the bird. These are undoubtedly the successive steps that an
artist would have taken in drawing the picture, or rather
successive pictures, to illustrate the story. . . . Degrees of
comparison are frequently expressed, both by deaf-mutes and
by Indians, by adding to the generic or descriptive sign that
for ' big' or ' little.' Damp would be ' wet — little ' ; cool, ' cold
— little ' ; /iot, ' warm — much.' The amount or force of motion
also often indicates corresponding diminution or augmenta-
tion, but sometimes expresses a different shade of meaning,

I20 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

as is reported by Dr. Matthews with reference to the sign for
bad and contempt. This change in degree of motion is, how-
ever, often used for emphasis only, as is the raising of the
voice in speech or italicizing and capitalizing in print. The
Prince of Wied gives an instance of a comparison in his sign
for excessively hard, first giving that for hard, viz. : Open the
left hand, and strike against it several times with the right
(with the backs of the fingers). Afterwards he gives hai'd,
excessively, as follows : Sign for hard, then place the left
index finger upon the right shoulder, at the same time extend
and raise the right arm high, extending the index finger
upward, perpendicularly."

I have entered thus at some length into the syntax of
gesture-language because this language is, as I have before
remarked, the most natural or immediate mode of giving
expression to the logic of recepts ; it is the least symbolic or
conventional phase of the sign-making faculty, and therefore
a study of its method is of importance in such a general
survey of this faculty as we are endeavouring to take. The
points in the above analysis to which I would draw attention
as the most important are, the absence of the copula and of
many other " parts of speech," the order in which ideas are
expressed, the pictorial devices by which the ideas are pre-
sented in as concrete a form as possible, and the fact that no
ideas of any high abstraction are ever expressed at all.*

* Further informalion of a kind corroborating what has been given in the
foregoing chapter concerning gesture-language may be found in Long's Expedition
to the Rocky Mountains, and Klcinpaul's paper in VolkerpsycJiolo^i^ie, &fc., vi.
352-375. The subject was first dealt with in a philosophical manner by Leibnitz,
in 17 1 7, Collectanea Etymologia, ch. ix.

( 121 )

CHAPTER VII.

ARTICULATION.

It will be my aim in this chapter to take a broad view of
Articulation as a special development of the general faculty of
sign-making, reserving for subsequent chapters a consideration
of the philosophy of Speech.

On the threshold of articulate language, then, we have four
several cases to distinguish : first, articulation by way of
meaningless imitation ; second, meaningless articulation by
way of a spontaneous or instinctive exercise of the organs of
speech ; third, understanding of the signification of articulate
sounds, or words ; and fourth, articulation with an intentional
attribution of the meaning understood as attaching to the
words. I shall consider each of these cases separately.

The meaningless imitation of articulate sounds occurs in
talking birds, young children, not unfrequently in savages,
in idiots, and in the mentally deranged. The faculty of such
meaningless imitation, however, need not detain us ; for it is
evident that the mere re-echoing of a verbal sound is of no
further psychological significance than is the mimicking of
any other sound.

Meaningless articulation of a spontaneous or instinctive
kind occurs in young children, in uneducated deaf-mutes, and
also in idiots.* Infants usually (though not invariably) begin

* For meaningless articuLition Ijy idiots, sec Scott's Remarks on Education of
Idiots. The fact is alluded to by most writers on idiot psychology, and I liave fre-
quently observed it myself. But the case of uneducated deaf-mutes is here more

122 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

with such syllables as " alia," " tata," " mama," and " papa "
(with or without the reduplication) before they understand
the meaning of any word. One of my own children could
say all these syllables very distinctly at the age of eight months
and a half; and I could detect no evidence at that time
of his understanding words, or of his having learnt these
syllabic utterances by imitation. Another child of mine,
which was very long in beginning to speak, at fourteen and a
half months old said once, and only once, but very distinctly
" Ego." This was certainly not said in imitation of any one
having uttered the word in her presence, and therefore I
mention the incident to show that meaningless articulation in
young children is spontaneous or instinctive, as well as
intentionally imitative ; for at that age the only other syllables
which this child had uttered were those having the long a,
as above mentioned. Were it necessary, I could give many
other instances of this fact ; but, as it is generally recognized
by writers on infant psychology, I need not wait to do so.

We now come to the third of our divisions, or the under-
standing of articulate sounds. And this is an important matter
for us, because it is evident that the faculty of appreciating
the meaning of words betokens a considerable advance in the
general faculty of language. As we have before seen, tone
and gesture, being the natural expression of the logic of
recepts — and so even in their most elaborated forms being
intentionally pictorial, — are as little as possible conventional ;

to 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 ordinai-y 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 Bridg-
man (who was blind as well as deaQ are in this connection even still more
conclusive (see ibid., pp. 74, 75).

ARTIC ULA TION. 1 2 3

but words, being coined expressly for the subservience of
concepts, are always less graphic, and usually arbitrary.
Therefore, although it would of course be wrong to say that
a higher faculty is required to learn the arbitrary association
between a particular verbal sound and a particular act or
phenomenon, than is required to depict an abstract idea in
gesture ; this only shows that where higher faculties are
present, they are able to display themselves in gesture as well as
in speech. The consideration which I now wish to present is
that understanding a word implies (other things equal, or
supposing the gesture not to be so purely conventional as a
word) a higher development of the sign-making faculty than
does the understanding of a tone or gesture — so that, for
instance, if an animal were to understand the word "Whip,"
it would show itself more intelligent in appreciating signs than
it would by understanding the gesture of threatening as with
a whip.

Now, the higher animals unquestionably do understand the
meanings of words ; idiots too low in the scale themselves to
speak are in the same position ; and infants learn the signifi-
cation of many articulate sounds long before they begin them-
selves to utter them.* In all these cases it is of course im-
portant to distinguish between the understanding of words
and the understanding of tones ; for, as already observed, both
in the animal kingdom and in the growing child it is evident
that the former represents a much higher grade of mental
evolution than does the latter — a fact so obvious to common
observation that I need not wait to give illustrations. But
although the fact is obvious, it is no easy matter to distinguish
in particular cases whether the understanding is due to an
appreciation of words, to that of tones, or to both combined.

* Writers on infant psycliology differ as to tlie 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. Dar-
win's observations showed that in the case of his children the understanding of
words and sentences was unmistakable between the tenth and twelfth months.

124 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

We may be sure, however, that words arc never understood
unless tones arc Hkewise so, and that understanding of words
may be assisted by understanding of the tones in which they
are uttered. Therefore, the only method of ascertaining
where words as such are first understood, is to find where they
are first understood irrespective of the tones in which they are
uttered. This criterion — so far, at least, as my evidence goes
— excludes all cases of animals obeying commands, answering
to their names, &c., with the exception of the higher
mammalia. That is to say, while the understanding of
certain tones of the human voice extends at least through
the entire vertebrated series, * and occurs in infants only a
few weeks old ; the understanding of words without the assist-
ance of tones appears to occur only in a few of the higher
mammalia, and first dawns in the growing child during the
second year.t

The fact that the more intelligent Mammalia are able to
understand words irrespective of tones is, as I have said,
important ; and therefore I shall devote a few sentences to
prove it.

My friend Professor Gerald Yeo had a terrier, which was
taught to keep a morsel of food on its snout till it received
the verbal signal " Paid for ; " and it was of no consequence
in what tones these words were uttered. For even if they
were introduced in an ordinary stream of conversation, the
dog distinguished them, and immediately tossed the food into
his mouth. Seeing this, I thought it worth while to try
whether the animal would be able to distinguish the words
"Paid for" from others presenting a close similarity of sound;

* See Anhiial 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.

t 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 under-
stood meaningless syllables may be spontaneously or instinctively articulated.

AR TICULA TION. 1 2 5

and, therefore, while he was expecting the signal, I said
" Pinafore ; " the dog gave a start, and very nearly threw
the food off his nose ; but immediately arrested the move-
ment, evidently perceiving his mistake. This experiment was
repeated many times with these two closely similar verbal
sounds, and always with the same result : the dog clearly
distinguished between them. I have more recently repeated
this experiment on another terrier, which had been taught the
same trick, and obtained exactly the same results.

The well-known anecdote told of the poet Hogg may be
fitly alluded to in this connection. A Scotch collie was able
to understand many things that his master said to him, and,
as proof of his ability, his master, while in the shepherd's
cottage, said in as calm and natural tone as possible, " I'm
thinking the cow's in the potatoes." Immediately the dog,
which had been lying half asleep on the floor, jumped up, ran
into the potato-field, round the house, and up the roof to take
a survey ; but finding no cow in the potatoes, returned and
lay down again. Some little time afterwards his master said
as quietly as before, " I'm sure the cow's in the potatoes,"
when the same scene was repeated. But on trying it a third
time, the dog only wagged his tail. Similarly, Sir Walter
Scott, among other anecdotes of his bull terrier, says : — " The
servant at Ashestiel, when laying the cloth for dinner, would
say to the dog as he lay on the mat by the fire, ' Camp, my
good fellow, the sheriff's coming home by the ford,' or ' by
the hill ; ' and the poor animal would immediately go forth to
welcome his master, advancing as far and as fast as he was
able in the direction indicated by the words addressed to him."
And numberless other anecdotes of the same kind might be
quoted.*

But the most remarkable display of the faculty in question
on the part of a brute which has happened to fall under my
own observation, is that which many other English naturalists
must have noticed in the case of the chimpanzee now in the

* See, for instance, Watson's Reasoning Pozver in Animals, pp. 137-149, and
Mcunier's Les Animaux Per/cctibles, ch. xii.

126 MEiVTAL EVOLUTION- AV MAN.

Zoological Gardens. This ape has learnt from her keeper the
meanings of so many words and phrases, that in this respect
she resembles a child shortly before it begins to speak. More-
over, it is not only particular words and particular phrases
which she has thus learnt to understand ; she also understands,
to a large extent, the combination of these words and phrases
in sentences, so that the keeper is able to explain to the animal
what it is that he requests her to do. For example, she will
push a straw through any particular meshes in the network of
her cage which he may choose successively to indicate by such
phrases as — " The one nearest your foot ; now the one next
the key-hole ; now the one above the bar," &c., &c. Of
course there is no pointing to the places thus verbally desig-
nated, nor is any order observed in the designation. The
animal understands what is meant by the words alone, and
this even when a particular mesh is named by the keeper re-
marking to her the accident of its having a piece of straw
already hanging through it.

In connection with the subject of the present treatise it
appears to me difficult to overrate the significance of these
facts. The more that my opponents maintain the fundamental
nature of the connection between speech and thought, the
greater becomes the importance of the consideration that the
higher animals arc able in so surprising a degree to participate
with ourselves in the understanding of words. From the ana-
logy of the growing child we well know that the understand-
ing of words precedes the utterance of them, and therefore
that the condition to the attainment of conceptual ideation is
given in this higher product of receptual ideation. Surely,
then, the fact that not a few among the lower animals
(especially elephants, dogs, and monkeys) demonstrably share
with the human infant this higher excellence of receptual
capacity, is a fact of the largest significance. For it proves at
least that these animals share with an infant those qualities of
mind, which in the latter are immediately destined to serve as
the vehicle for elevating ideation from the receptual to the
conceptual sphere : the faculty of understanding words in so

ARTICULATION. 12/

considerable a degree brings us to the very borders of the
faculty of using words with an intelligent appreciation of their
meaning.

Familiarity with the facts now before us is apt to blunt
this their extraordinary significance ; and therefore I invite
my opponents to reflect how differently my case would have
stood, supposing that none of the lower animals had happened
to have been sufficiently intelligent thus to understand the
meanings of words. How much greater would then have
been the argumentative advantage of any one who undertook
to prove the distinctively human prerogative of the Logos.
No mere brute, it might have been urged, has ever displayed
so much as the first step in approaching to this faculty : from
its commencement to its termination the faculty belongs
exclusively to mankind. But, as matters actually stand, this
cannot be urged : the lower animals share with us the order of
ideation which is concerned in the understanding of words —
and words, moreover, so definite and particular in meaning
as is involved in explaining the particular mesh in a large
piece of wire-netting through which it is required that a straw
shall be protruded. While watching this most remark-
able performance on the part of the chimpanzee, I felt more
than ever disposed to agree with the great philologist Geiger,
where he says " there is scarcely a more wonderful relation-
ship upon the earth than this accession \i.e. the understanding
of words] by the intelligence of animals to that of man."*

I take it then, as certainly proved, that the germ of the
sign-making faculty which is present in the higher animals is
so far developed as to enable these animals to understand
not merely conventional gestures, but even articulate sounds,
irrespective of the tones in which they are uttered. There-
fore, in view of this fact, together with the fact previously
established that these same animals frequently make use of
conventional gesture-signs themselves, I think we are justified
in concluding a priori, that if these animals were able to
articulate, they would employ simple words to express simple

* Ursprung der Spraclic, p. 122.

128 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IN MAN.

ideas. I do not say, nor do I think, that they would form
propositions ; but it seems to me Httlc less than certain that
they would use articulate sounds, as they now use natural or
conventional tones and gestures, to express such ideas as
they now express in either of these ways. For instance, it
would involve the exercise of no higher psychical faculty to
say the word " Come," than it does to pull at a dress or a
coat to convey the same idea ; or to utter the word " Open,"
instead of mewing in a conventional manner before a closed
door; or, yet again, to utter the word " Bone," than to select
and carry a card with the word written upon it. If this is
so, we must conclude that the only reason why the higher
Mammalia do not employ simple words to convey simple
ideas, is that which we may term an accidental reason, so far
as their psychology is concerned ; it is an anatomical reason,
depending merely on the structure of their vocal organs not
admitting of articulation.*

Of course at this point my attention will be called to
the case of talking birds ; for it is evident that in them we
have the anatomical conditions required for speech, though
assuredly occurring at a most unlikely place in the animal
series ; and therefore these animals may be properly

* 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
Acadtinie 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, Januaiy, 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 telejjhones, 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.

ARTICULATIOy.

129

adduced to test the validity of my a priori inference — namely,
that if the more intelligent brutes could articulate, they would
make a proper use of simple verbal signs. Let it, however,
be here remembered that birds are lower in the psychological
scale than dogs, or cats, or monkeys ; and, therefore, that
the inference which I drew touching the latter need not
necessarily be held as applying also to the former. Never-
theless, it so happens that even in the case of these psycho-
logically inferior animals the evidence, such as it is, is not
opposed to my inference : on the contrary, there is no small
body of facts which goes to support it in a very satisfactory
manner. A consideration of this evidence will now serve to
introduce us to the fourth and last case presented in the
programme at the beginning of this chapter, or the case of
articulation with attribution of the meaning understood as
attaching to the words.

Taking, first, the case of proper names, it is unquestionable
that many parrots know perfectly well that certain names
belong to certain persons, and that the way to call these
persons is to call their appropriate names. I knew a parrot
which used thus to call its mistress as intelligently as any
other member of the household ; and if she went from home
for a day, the bird became a positive nuisance from its
incessant calling for her to come.

And in a similar manner talking birds often learn correctly
to assign the names of other pet animals kept in the same
house, or even the names of inanimate objects. There can
thus be no question as to the use by talking birds of proper
names and noun-substantives.

With respect to adjectives, Houzeau very properly remarks
that the apposite manner in which some parrots habitually
use certain words shows an aptitude correctly to perceive
and to name qualities as well as objects. Nor is this any-
thing more than we might expect, seeing, on the one hand,
as already shown, that animals possess generic ideas of many
qualities, and, on the other, that an obvious quality is as much a

K

,30 MEXTAL EVOLUTION IX MAX.

matter of immediate observation — and so of sensuous associa-
tion as is the object of which it may happen to be a quahty.

Again, it is no less certain that many parrots will under-
stand the meaning of active and passive verbs, whether as
uttered by others or by themselves. The request to " Scratch
Poll " or the anouncement " Poll is thirsty," when intentionally
used as signs, show as true an appreciation of the meaning of
verbs — or rather, let us say, of verbal signs indicative of actions
and states — as is shown by the gesture-sign of a dog or a cat
in pulling one's dress to indicate " come," or mewing before
an open door to signify " open."

But not only may talking birds attach appropriate signifi-
cations to nouns, adjectives, and verbs ; they may even use
short sentences in a way serving to show that they appreciate
not, indeed, their grammatical structure— -but their applic-
ability as a whole to particular circumstances.* But this
again is not a matter to excite surprise. For all such

♦ 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 Aniin., torn, ii., p. 309, et secj.) ; 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 Aniniaitx 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 lau<^hter, 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 feel-
ings which it is desired to excite. I have myself kept selected parrots, and can
fully corroborate all the above statements from my own observations.

A R TICULA TlOy. 1 3 1

instances of the apposite use of words or phrases by talking
birds are found on inquiry to be due, as antecedently we
should expect that they must, to the principle of association.
The bird hears a proper name applied to a person, and so, on
learning to say the name, henceforth associates it with that
person. And similarly with phrases. These with talking
birds are mere vocal gestures, which in themselves present
but little more psychological significance than muscular
gestures. The verbal petition, " Scratch poor poll," does not
in itself display any further psychological development than
the significant gesture already alluded to of depressing the
head against the bars of the cage ; and similarly with all
cases of the appropriate use of longer phrases. Thus,
supposing it to be due to association alone, a verbal sign of
any kind is not much more remarkable, or indicative of
intelligence, than is a gesture sign, or a vocal sign of any
other kind. The only respect in which it differs from such
other signs is in the fact that it is wholly arbitrary or
conventional ; and although, as I have previously said, I do
consider this an important point of difference, I am not at all
surprised that even the intelligence of a bird admits of such
special associations being formed, or that a wholly arbitrary
sign of any kind should here be acquired by this means, and
afterwards used as a sign.

And that the verbal signs used by talking birds are due to
association, and association only, all the evidence I have met
with goes to prove. As showing how association acts in this
case, I may quote the following remarks of Dr. Samuel
Wilks, F.R.S., on his own parrot, which he carefully observed.
He says that when alone this bird used to " utter a long
catalogue of its sayings, more especially if it heard talking at
a distance, as if wishing to join in the conversation, but at
other times a particular word or phrase is only spoken when
suggested by a person or object. Thus, certain friends who
have addressed the bird frequently by some peculiar ex-
pression, or the whistling of an air, will always be welcomed
by the same words or tune, and as regards myself, when I

I -, 2 ME. VTA L EVOL UTIOX LV MA X

enter the house — for my footstep is recognized — the bird will
repeat one of my sayings. If the servants enter the room
Poll will be ready with one of their expressions, and in their
own tone of voice. It is clear that there is a close association
in the bird's mind between certain phrases and certain persons
or objects, for their presence or voice at once suggests some
special word. For instance, my coachman, when coming for
orders, has so often been told half-past two, that no sooner
does he come to the door than Poll exclaims, ' Half-past two.'
Again, having at night found her awake, and having said,
'G'^ to sleep,' if I have approached the cage after dark the
same words have been repeated. Then, as regards objects,
if certain words have been spoken in connection with them,
these are ever afterwards associated together. For example,
at dinner time the parrot, having been accustomed to have
savory morsels given to her, I taught her to say, ' Give
me a bit.' This she now constantly repeats, but only
and appropriately at dinner-time. The bird associates the
expression with something to eat, but, of course, knows no
more than the infant the derivation of the words she is using.
Again, being very fond of cheese, she easily picked up the
word, and always asks for cheese towards the end of the
dinner course, and at no other time. Whether the bird
attaches the word to the true substance or not I cannot say,
but the time of asking for it is always correct. She is also
fond of nuts, and when these are on the table she utters a
peculiar squeak ; this she has not been taught, but it is Poll's
own name for nuts, for the sound is never heard until the fruit
is in sight. Some noises which she utters have been obtained
from the objects themselves, as that of a cork-screw at the
sight of a bottle of wine, or the noise of water poured into a
tumbler on seeing a bottle of water. The passage of the
servant down the hall to open the front door suggests a
noise of moving hinges, followed by a loud whistle for a cab."*
Concerning the accuracy of these observations I hav-e no
doubt, and I could corroborate most of them were it necessary.

* Journal of Mental Science, 1\i\y, 1879.

ARTICULATION. 1 33

It appears, then, first, that talking birds may learn to associate
certain words with certain objects and qualities, certain other
words or phrases with the satisfaction of particular desires
and the observation of particular actions ; words so used we
may term vocal-gestures. Second, that they may invent
sounds of their own contriving, to be used in the same way ;
and that these sounds may be either imitative of the objects
designated, as the sound of running fluid for " Water," or
arbitrary, as the " particular squeak " that designated " Nuts."
Third, but that in a much greater number of cases the sounds
(verbal or otherwise) uttered by talking birds are imitative
only, without the animals attaching to them any particular
meaning. The third division, therefore, we may neglect as
presenting no psychological import ; but the first and second
divisions require closer consideration.

In designating as " vocal gestures " * the correct use
(acquired by direct association) of proper names, noun-
substantives, adjectives, verbs, and short phrases, I do not
mean to disparage the faculty which is displayed. On the
contrary, I think this faculty is precisely the same as that
whereby children first learn to talk ; for, like the parrot, the
infant learns by direct association the meanings of certain
words (or sounds) as denotative of certain objects, connotative
of certain qualities, expressive of certain desires, actions, and
so on. The only difference is that, in a few months after its
first commencement in the child, this faculty develops into
proportions far surpassing those which it presents in the bird,
so that the vocabulary becomes much larger and more
discriminative. But the important thing to attend to is that
at first, and for several months after its commencement, the
vocabulary of a child is always designative of particular
objects, qualities, actions, or desires, and is acquired by direct
association. The distinctive peculiarity of human speech,
which elevates it above the region of animal gesticulation, is
of later growth — the peculiarity, I mean, of using words, no

* This term has been previously used by some philologists to signify cjacula-
on by man. It will be observed that I u£.c it in a more extended sense.

134 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

longer as stereotyped in the framework of special and direct
association, but as movable types to be arranged in any
order that the meaning before the mind may dictate. When
this stage is reached, we have the faculty of predication, or of
the grammatical formation of sentences which are no longer
of the nature of vocal gestures, designative of particular
objects, qualities, actions, or states of mind : but vehicles for
the conveyance of ever-changing thoughts.

We shall presently see that this distinction between the
naming and the predicating phases of language is of the
highest importance in relation to the subject of the present
treatise ; but meanwhile all we have to note is that the
naming phase of spoken language occurs — in a rudimentary
form, indeed, but still unquestionably — in the animal kingdom ;
and that the fact of its doing so is not surprising, if we
remember that in this stage language is nothing more than
vocal gesticulation. Psychologically considered, there is
nothing more remarkable in the fact that a bird which is able
to utter an articulate sound should learn by association to use
that sound as a conventional sign, than there is that it should
learn by association similarly to use a muscular action, as it
does in the act of depressing its head as a sign to have it
scratched. Therefore we may now, I think, take the position
as established a posteriori as well as a priori, that it is, so to
speak, a mere accident of anatomy that all the higher animals
are not able thus far to talk ; and that, if dogs or monkeys
were able to do so, we have no reason to doubt that their use
of words and phrases would be even more extensive and
striking than that which occurs in birds. Or as Professor
Huxley observes, " a race of dumb men, deprived of all
communication with those who could speak, would be little
indeed removed from the brutes. The moral and intellectual
differences between them and ourselves would be practically
infinite, though the naturalist should not be able to find a
single shadow even of specific structural difierence.*

* MaJt's Place in Nature, p. 52. I may here appropriately allude to a paper
uliich elicited a good deal of discussion some years ago. It was read before the

ARTICULA TIOX. I 3 5

We must next briefly consider the remaining feature in
the psychology of talking birds to which Dr. Wilks has drawn
attention, namely, that of inventing sounds of their own
contrivance to be used as designative of objects and qualities,

Victoria Institute in March, 1872, by Dr. Frederick Bateman, under the title
" Darwinism tested by Recent Researches in Language ; " and its oliject 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 un-
frequently display a correct appreciation of their use as signs. But what I have
here especially to consider is the anatomical branch of Dr. Batenian'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 Dar-
winian 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 jihysiological research.

I-»6 MEXTAL EVOLUTION JX MAX.

or expressive of desires — sounds which may be cither imitative
of the things designated, or wholly arbitrary. And this, 1
think, is a most important feature ; for it serves still more
closely to connect the faculty of vocal sign-making in animals
with the faculty of speech in man. Thus, turning first to the
case of a child beginning to speak, as Dr. Wilks points out —
and nearly all writers on the philosophy of language have
noticed — •" baby talk " is to a large extent onomatopoetic.
And although this is in part due to an inheritance of "nursery
language," the very fact that nursery language has come to
contain so large an element of onomatopoeia is additional
proof, were any required, that this kind of word-invention
appeals with ready ease to the infant understanding. But, on
the other hand, no one can have attended to the early
vocabulary of any child without having observed a fertile
tendency to the invention of words wholly arbitrary. As this
spontaneous invention of arbitrary words by young children
will be found of importance in later stages of my exposition,
I will conclude the present chapter by presenting evidence to
show the extent to which, under favourable circumstances, it
may proceed. Meanwhile, however, I desire to point out that
all such cases of the invention of arbitrary vocal signs by
young children differ from the analogous cases furnished by
parrots only in that the former are usually articulate, while
the latter are usually not so. But this difference is easily
explained when we remember that hereditary tendency makes
as strongly in the direction of inarticulate sounds in the case
of the bird, as in the case of the infant it makes in the
direction of articulate.

There still remains one feature in the psychology of talk-
ing birds to which I must now draw prominent attention. So
far as I can ascertain it has not been mentioned by any
previous writer, although I should think it is one that can
scarcely have escaped the notice of any attentive observer of
these animals. I allude to the aptitude which intelligent
parrots display of extending their articulate signs from one
object, quality, or action, to another which happens to be

ARTICULA TlOy. I 3 7

strikingly similar in kind. For example, one of the parrots
which I kept under observation in my own house learnt to
imitate the barking of a terrier, which also lived in the house.
After a time this barking was used by the parrot as a
denotative sound, or proper name, for the terrier — i.e. when-
ever the bird saw the dog it used to bark, whether or not the
dog did so. Next, the parrot ceased to apply this denotative
name to that particular dog, but invariably did so to any
other, or unfamiliar, dog which visited the house. Now, the
fact that the parrot ceased to bark when it saw my terrier
after it had begun to bark when it saw other dogs, clearly
showed that it distinguished between individual dogs, while
receptually perceiving their class resemblance. In other
words, the parrot's name for an individual dog became
extended into a generic name for all dogs. Observations of
this kind might no doubt have been largely multiplied, if
observers had thought it worth while to record such apparently
trivial facts.

In this general survey of articulate language, then, we
have reached these conclusions, all of which I take to be
established by the evidence of direct and adequate observa-
tion.

There are four divisions of the faculty of articulate sign-
making to be distinguished :— namely, meaningless imitation,
instinctive articulation, understanding words irrespective of
tones, and intentional use of words as signs. Cases falling
under the first division do not require consideration. Cases
belonging to the second, being due to hereditary influence,
occur only in infants, uneducated deaf-mutes and idiots.
Understanding of words is shown by animals and idiots as
Well as by infants, and implies, /i?r se, a higher development
of the sign-making faculty than does the understanding of
tones, or gestures — unless, of course, the latter happen to be
of as purely conventional a character as words. And, lastly,
concerning the intentional use of words as signs, we ha\e
noticed the followincr facts.

1 3 S I\1E.\ TA L EVOL UTION IN MA N.

Talkini;" birds — which happen to be the only animals whose
vocal organs admit of uttering articulate sounds — show them-
selves capable of correctly using proper names, noun-sub-
stantives, adjectives, verbs, and appropriate phrases, although
they do so by association alone, or without appreciation of
grammatical structure. Words are to them vocal gestures,
as immediately expressive of the logic of recepts as any other
signs would be. Nevertheless, it is important to observe that
this faculty of vocal gesticulation is the first phase of articulate
speech in a growing child, is the last to disappear in the
descending scale of idiocy, and is exhibited by talking birds
in so considerable a degree that the animals even invent
names (whether by making distinctive sounds, as a particular
squeak for " nuts," or by applying words to designate objects,
as "half-past-two" for the name of the coachman) — such in-
vention often clearly having an onomatopoetic origin, though
likewise often wholly arbitrary.

I will now conclude this chapter by detailing evidence to
show the extent to which, under favourable circumstances,
young children will thus likewise invent arbitrary signs, which,
however, for reasons already mentioned, are here almost
invariably of an articulate kind. It w^ould be easy to drav/
this evidence from sundry writers on the psychogenesis of
children ; but it will be sufficient to give a few quotations
from an able writer who has already taken the trouble to
collect the more remarkable instances which have been
recorded of the fact in question. The wTiter to whom I
allude is Mr. Horatio Hale, and the paper from which I quote
is published in the Proceedings of tJie American Association for
tJie Advancement of Science, vol. xxxv., 1886.

" In the year i860 two children, twin boys, were born in
a respectable family residing in a suburb of Boston. They
were in part of German descent, their mother's father having
come from Germany to America at the age of seventeen ; but
the German language, we are told, was never spoken in the
household. The children were so closely alike that their

ARTICULA TIOX. I 39

grandmother, who often came to see them, could only
distinguish them by some coloured string or ribbon tied
around the arm. As often happens in such cases, an intense
affection existed between them, and they were constantly
together. The remainder of their interesting story will be
best told in the words of the writer, to whose enlightened zeal
for science we are indebted for our knowledge of the facts.

" At the usual age these twins began to talk, but, strange
to say, not their 'mother-tongue.' They had a language of
their own, and no pains could induce them to speak anything
else. It was in vain that a little sister, five years older than
they, tried to make them speak their native language — as it
would have been. They persistently refused to utter a
syllable of English. Not even the usual first words, 'papa,'
' mamma,' ' father,' ' mother,' it is said, did they ever speak ;
and, said the lady who gave this information to the writer, —
who was an aunt of the children, and whose home was with
them, — they were never known during this interval to call
their mother by that name. They had their own name for
her, but never the English. In fact, though they had the
usual affections, were rejoiced to see their father at his re-
turning home each night, playing with him, &c., they would
seem to have been otherwise completely taken up, absorbed
with each other, . . , The children had not yet been to school ;
for, not being able to speak their 'own English,' it seemed
impossible to send them from home. They thus passed the
days, playing and talking together in their own speech, with
all the liveliness and volubility of common children. Their
accent was German — as it seemed to the family. They had
regular words, a few of which the family learned sometimes to
distinguish ; as that, for example, for carriage, which, on hear-
ing one pass in the street, they would exclaim out, and run to
the window. This word for carriage, we are told in another
place, was ' ni-si-boo-a,' of which, it is added, the syllables
were sometimes so repeated that they made a much longer
word."

The next case is quoted by Mr. Ilalc from iJr. E. R.

140 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX.

Ilun, who recorded it in the MoiitJiIy Jounial of PsycJto--
logical Medicine, 1 868.

"The subject of this observation is a girl aged four and a
lialf years, sprightly, intelligent, and in good health. The
mother observed, when she was two years old, that she was
backward in speaking, and only used the words ' papa ' and
' mamma.' After that she began to use words of her own
invention, and though she understood readily what she said,
never employed the words used by others. Gradually she
enlarged her vocabulary until it has reached the extent
described below. She has a brother eighteen months younger
than herself, who has learned her language, so that they can talk
freely together. He, however, seems to have adopted it only
because he has more intercaurse with her than the others ; and
in some instances he will use a proper word with his mother,
and his sister's word with her. She, however, persists in
using only her own words, though her parents, who are uneasy
about her peculiarity of speech, make great efforts to induce
her to use proper words. As to the possibility of her having
learned these words from others, it is proper to state that her
parents are persons of cultivation, who use only the English
language. The mother has learned French, but never uses
the language in conversation. The domestics, as well as the
nurses, speak English without any peculiarities, and the child
has heard even less than usual of what is called baby-talk.
Some of the words and phrases have a resemblance to the
French ; but it is certain that no person using that language has
frequented the house, and it is doubtful whether the child has
on any occasion heard it spoken. There seems to be no diffi-
culty about the vocal organs. She uses her language readily
and freely, and when she is with her brother they converse
with great rapidity and fluency.

" Dr. Hun then gives the vocabulary, which, he states, was
such as he had ' been able at different times to compile from
the child herself, and especially from the report of her mother.'
From this statement we may infer that the list probably did
not include the whole number of words in this child-language.

ARTICULATION. 14I

It comprises, in fact, only twent}'-one distinct words, though
many of these were used in a great variety of acceptations,
indicated by the order in which they were arranged, or by
compounding them in various ways. . . .

" Three or four of the words, as Dr. Hun remarks, bear an
evident resemblance to the French, and others might, by a
slight change, be traced to that language. He was unable, it
will be seen, to say positively that the girl had never heard
the language spoken ; and it seems not unlikely that, if not
among the domestics, at least among the persons who visited
them, there may have been one who amused herself, innocently
enough, by teaching the child a few words of that tongue. It
is, indeed, by no means improbable that the peculiar linguistic
instinct may thus have been first aroused in the mind of the
girl, when just beginning to speak. Among the words show-
ing this resemblance are fen (pronounced, we are expressly
told, like the French word), used to signify ' fire, light, cigar,
sun ; ' too (the French ' tout '), meaning ' all, everything ; ' and iie
pa (whether pronounced as in French, or otherwise, we are
not told), signifying ' not.' Pctee-petce, the name given to
the boy by his sister, is apparently the French ' petit,' little ;
and ma, ' I,' may be from the French ' moi,' ' me.' If, however,
the child was really able to catch and remember so readily
these foreign sounds at such an early age, and to interweave
them into a speech of her own, it would merely show how
readily and strongly in her case the language-making faculty
was developed.

"Of words formed by imitation of sounds, the language
shows barely a trace. The mewing of the cat evidently sug-
gested the word }nea, which signified both ' cat ' and ' furs.' For
the other vocables which make up this speech, no origin can
be conjectured. We can merely notice that in some of the
words the liking which children and some races of men have
for the repetition of sounds is apparent. Thus we have mig)io-
inigno, signifying ' water, wash, bath ; ' go-go, ' delicacies, as
sugar, candy, or dessert,' and waia-waiar, 'black, darkness, or
a negro.' There is, as will be seen from these examples, no

142 iVEXTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

special tciulcncy to the monosyllabic form. Gimiviigar, \vc
are told, signifies ' all the substantials of the table, such as
bread, meat, vegetables, &c. ; ' and the same word is used to
designate the cook. The boy, it is added, does not use this
word, but uses gna-niigiia, which the girl considers as a mis-
take. From which we may gather that even at their tender
age the form of their language had become with them an
object of thought ; and we may infer, moreover, that the
language was not invented solely by the girl, but that both
the children contributed to frame it.

" Of miscellaneous words may be mentioned ^(^r, 'horse ;'
deer, ' money of any kind ; ' deer, ' literature, books, or school ; '
peer, ' ball ;' da?/, 'soldier, music ; ' odo, ' to send for, to go out,
to take away ; ' ke/i, ' to soil ; ' pa-ma, ' to go to sleep, pillow,
bed.' The variety of acceptations which each word was
capable of receiving is exemplified in many ways. Thus fei/
might become an adjective, as ne-pa-/eu, ' not warm.' The
verb odo had many meanings, according to its position or the
■words which accompanied it. Ma odo, ' I (want to) go out ; '
gar odo, ' send for the horse ; ' too odo, ' all gone.' Gaan signi-
fied God ; and we are told — When it rains, the children often
run to the window, and call out, Gaan odo migno-migno, feii
odo, which means, ' God take away the rain, and send the sun '
— odo before the object meaning ' to take away,' and after the
object, ' to send.' From this remark and example we learn,
not merely that the language had — as all real languages must
have — its rules of construction, but that these were sometimes
different from the English rules. This also appears in the
form niea waia-waiaiv, ' dark furs ' (literally, ' furs dark '), where
the adjective follows its substantive,

" The odd and unexpected associations which in all
languages govern the meaning of words are apparent in this
brief vocabulary. We can gather from it that the parents
were Catholics, and punctual in church observances. The
words papa and mamma were used separately in their
ordinary sense ; but when linked together in the compound
term papa-mamma, they signified (according to the connec-

ARTICULATIOX. I.:|3

tion, we may presume), 'church,' 'prayer-book,' 'cross,"priest,'
' to say their prayers.' BaiL was ' soldier ; ' but, we are told,
from seeing the bishop in his mitre and vestments, thinking
he was a soldier, they applied the word ban to him. Gar odo
properly signified 'send for the horse;' but as the children
frequently saw their father, when a carnage was wanted, write
an order and send it to the stable, they came to use the same
expression {^gar odo) for pencil and paper.

"There is no appearance of inflection, properly speakin^-,
in the language ; and this is only what might be expected.
Very young children rarely use inflected forms in any
language. The English child of three or four 3'ears says,
'Mary cup,' for 'Mary's cup;' and 'Dog bite Harry' will
represent every tense and mood. It is by no means improb-
able that, if the children had continued to use their own
language for a few years longer, inflections would have been
developed in it, as we see that peculiar forms of construction
and novel compounds — which are the germs of inflection — had
already made their appearance.

" These two recorded instances of child-languages have
led to further inquiries, which, though pursued only for a
brief period, and in a limited field, have shown that cases of
this sort are by no means uncommon."

The author then proceeds to furnish other corroborative
instances ; but the above quotations are, I think, sufficient for
my purposes.* For they show (i) that the spontaneous antl

* 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) = driiikitig ox a driii/c, drinking-vessel, and hence a ^Az.r.f of any kind.
Vy = a/j.

Vy-'ta = window, i.e. the 'ta or af-ta {glass) on whicli a (ly walks.
Blow = candle.

Blow-hattie = a lamp, i.e. candle with a hat or shade.
'Nell = SLjloiuer, i.e. smell.

These words are clearly all of imitative origin. The following, however, seem
to have been purely arbitrary : —

144 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IN MAN.

to all appearances arbitrary word-making, which is more or
less observable in all children when first beginning to speak,
nia)', under favourable circumstances, proceed to an astonish-
ing degree of fulness and efficienc}- ; (2) that although the
words, or articulate signs, thus invented are sometimes of a
plainly onomatopoetic origin, as a general rule they are not so ;

(3) that the words are far from being always monosyllabic ;

(4) that they admit of becoming sufficiently numerous and
varied to constitute a not inefficient language, without as yet
having advanced to the inflexional stage ; and (5) that the
syntax of this language presents obvious points of re-
sem»blance to that of the gesture-languages of mankind
previously considered.

Numby =/^^f/of any kind (onomatupoetic).

Nunny = dress of any kind.

Milly = d7-essing, and any article used in dressing, e.g. a pin.

Lee = the jiame 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 " er," invented on learning the first letters of her

alphabet, and always afterwards used.

( 145 )

CHAPTER VIII.

RELATION OF TONE AND GESTURE TO WORDS.

We have already seen that spoken language differs from the
language of tone and gesture in being, as a system of signs,
more purely conventional. This means that for semiotic
purposes articulation is a higher product of mental evolution
than either gesticulation or intonation. It also means that as
an instrument of such evolution articulate speech is more
efficient. The latter point is an important one, so I shall
proceed to deal with it at some length.

As noticed in a previous chapter, our system of coinage,
bank-notes, and bills of sale is a more convenient system of
signifying value of labour or of property, than is the more
primitive and less conventional system of actually exchanging
the labour or bartering the property ; and our system of
arithmetic is similarly more convenient for the purpose of
calculation than is the more natural system of counting on the
fingers. But not only are these more conventional systems
more convenient ; they are likewise conducive to a higher
development of business transactions on the one hand, and of
calculation on the other. In the absence of such an improved
system of signs, it would be impossible to conduct as many or
such intricate transactions and calculations as we do conduct.
Similarly with speech as distinguished from gesture. Words,
like gestures, are signs of thoughts and feelings ; but in being
more conventional they are more pure as signs, and so admit
of being wrought up into a much more convenient f)r
efficient system, while at the same time they become more
constructive in their influence upon ideation. The great

L

146 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAN.

superiority of words over gestures in both these respects may
most easily be shown by the use of a few examples.

I open Colonel Mallery's book at random, and find the
following as the sign for a barking dog : —

" Pass the arched hand forward from the lower part of
the face, to illustrate elongated nose and mouth ; then, with
both forefingers extended, remaining fingers and thumbs
closed, place them upon either side of the lower jaw, pointing
upwards, to show lower canines, at the same time accompany-
ing the gesture with an expression of withdrawing the lips so
as to show the teeth snarling ; then, with the fingers of the
right hand extended and separated throw them quickly
forward and slightly upward (voice or talking)."

Here, be it observed, how elaborate is this pictorial
method of designating a dog barking as compared with the
use of two words ; and after all it is not so efficient, for the
signs were misunderstood by the Indians to whom they were
shown — the meaning assigned to them being that of a growl-
ing bear. What a large expenditure of thought is required
for the devising and the interpretation of such ideograms !
and, when they are formed and understood, how cumber-
some do they appear if contrasted with words ! Colonel
Mallery, indeed, says of gesture-language that, " when highly
cultivated, its rapidity on f^imiliar subjects exceeds that of
speech, and approaches to that of thought itself ; " but,
besides the important limitation " on familiar subjects," he
adds, — " at the same time it must be admitted that great
increase in rapidity is chiefly obtained by the system of pre-
concerted abbreviations before explained, and by the adoption
of arbitrary forms, in which naturalness is sacrificed and
conventionality established." *

But besides being cumbersome, gesture-language labours

* 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 w^hy 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).

RELATION OF TONE AND GESTURE TO WORDS. 1 47

under the more serious defect of not being so precise, and the
still more serious defect of not being so serviceable as spoken
language in the development of abstraction. We have
previously" seen how words, being more or less purely con-
ventional as signs, are not tied down, as it were, to material
objects ; although they have doubtless all originated as
expressive of sensuous perceptions, not being necessarily
ideographic, they may easily pass into signs of general ideas,
and end by becoming expressive of the highest abstrac-
tions. " Words are thus the easily manipulated counters of
thought," and so, to change the metaphor, are the progeny of
generalization. But gestures, in being always more or less
ideographic, are much more closely chained to sensuous
perceptions ; and, therefore, it is only when exercised on
" familiar subjects " that they can fairly be said to rival words
as a means of expression, while they can never soar into the
thinner medium of high abstraction. No sign-talker, with
any amount of time at his disposal, could translate into the
language of gesture a page of Kant.

Let it be observed that I am here speaking of gesture-
language as we actually find it. What the latent capabilities
of such language may be is another question, and one with
reference to which speculation is scarcely calculated to prove
profitable. Nevertheless, as the subject is not altogether
without importance in the present connection, I may quote
the following brief passage from a recent essay by Professor
Whitney. After remarking that " the voice has won to itself
the chief and almost exclusive part in communication," he
adds : —

" This is not in the least because of any closer connection
of the thinking apparatus with the muscles that act to
produce audible sounds than with those that act to produce
visible motions ; not because there are natural uttered names
for conceptions, any more than natural gestured names. It
is simply a case of ' survival of the fittest,' or analoi^ous to
the process by which iron has become the exclusive material
of swords, and gold and silver for money : because, n.-imcl}-,

148 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

experience has shown this to be the material best adapted to
this special use. The advantages of the voice are numerous
and obvious. There is first its economy, as employing a
mechanism that is available for little else, and leaving free
for other purposes those indispensable instruments, the hands.
Then there is its superior perceptibleness ; its nice differences
impress themselves upon the sense at a distance at which
visible motions become indistinct ; they are not hidden by
intervening objects ; they allow the eyes of the listeners as
well as the hands of the speaker to be employed in other
useful work ; they are as plain in the dark as in the light ;
and they are able to catch and command the attention of one
who is not to be reached in any other way." *

To these advantages we may add that words, in being as
we have seen less essentially ideographic than gestures, must
always have been more available for purposes of abstract ex-
pression. We must remember how greatly gesture-language,
as it now appears in its most elaborate form, is indebted
to the psychologically constructing influence of spoken
language ; and, thus viewed, it is a significant fact that even
now gesture language is not able to convey ideas of any high
degree of abstraction. Still, I doubt not it would be possible
to construct a wholly conventional system of gestures which
should answer to, or correspond with, all the abstract words
and inflections of a spoken language ; and that then the one
sign-system might replace the other — just as the sign-system
of writing is able similarly to replace that of speech. This,
however, is a widely different thing from supposing that such
a perfect system of gesture-signs could have grown by a
process of natural development ; and, looking to the essen-
tially ideographic character of such signs, I greatly question
whether, even under circumstances of the strongest necessity
(such as would have arisen if man, or his progenitors, had
been unable to articulate), the language of gesture could have
been developed into anything approaching a substitute for
the language of words.

* Encyclop. Brit , 9th ed., art. Thilology.

RELATION OF TONE AND GESTURE TO WORDS. 1 49

It may tend to throw some light on this hypothetical
question — which is of some importance for us — if we consider
briefly the psychological status of wholly uneducated deaf-
mutes ; for although it is true that their case is not fairly
parallel to that of a human race destitute of the faculty of
speech (seeing that the individual deaf-mute does not find any
elaborate system of signs prepared for him by the exertions
of dumb ancestors, as would doubtless have been the case
under the circumstances supposed), still, on the other hand,
and as a compensating consideration, we must remember that
the individual deaf-mute not only inherits a human brain, the
structure of which has been elaborated by the speech of his
ancestors, but is also surrounded by a society the whole
structure of whose ideation is dependent upon speech. So
far, therefore, as the complex conditions of the question
admit of being disentangled, the case of uneducated deaf-
mutes living in a society of speaking persons affords the best
criterion we can obtain of the prospect which gesture-language
would have had as a means of thought-formation in the
human race, supposing this race to have been destitute of the
faculty of speech. To show, therefore, the psychological
condition of an individual thus circumstanced, I will quote a
brief passage from a lecture of my own, which v%-as given
before the British Association in 1878.

" It often happens that deaf and dumb children of poor
parents are so far neglected that they are never taught finger-
language, or any other system of signs, whereby to converse
with their fellow-creatures. The consequence, of course, is
that these unfortunate children grow up in a state of intellec-
tual isolation, which is almost as complete as that of any of
the lower animals. Now, when such a child grows up and
falls into the hands of some competent teacher, it may of
course be educated, and is then in a position to record its
experiences when in its state of intellectual isolation. I have
therefore obtained all the evidence I can as to the mental
condition of such persons, and I find that their testimony is
perfectly uniform. In the absence of language, the mind is

150 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

able to think in the logic of feelings ; but can never rise to
any ideas of higher abstraction than those which the logic of
feelings supplies. The uneducated deaf-mutes have the same
notions of right and wrong, cause and effect, and so on, as \vc
have already seen that animals and idiots possess. They
always think in the most concrete forms, as shown by their
telling us (when educated) that so long as they were unedu-
cated they always thought in pictures. Moreover, that they
cannot attain to ideas of even the lowest degree of abstraction,
is shown by the fact that in no one instance have I been able
to find evidence of a deaf-mute who, prior to education, had
evolved for himself any form of supernaturalism. And this,
I think, is remarkable, not only because we might fairly
suppose that some rude form of fetishism, or ghost-worship,
would not be too abstract a system for the unaided mind of
a civilized man to elaborate ; but also because the mind in
this case is 7iot wholly unaided. On the contrary, the friends
of the deaf-mute usually do their utmost to communicate to
his mind some idea of whatever form of religion they may
happen to possess. Yet it is uniformly found that, in the
absence of language, no idea of this kind can be communi-
cated. For instance, the Rev. S. Smith tells me that one of
his pupils, previous to education, supposed the Bible to have
been printed by a printing-press in the sky, which was worked
by printers of enormous strength — this being the only inter-
pretation the deaf-mute could assign to the gestures whereby
his parents had sought to make him understand, that they
believed the Bible to contain a revelation from a God of
power who lives in heaven. Similarly, Mr. Graham Bell
informs me of another, though similar case, in which the deaf-
mute supposed the object of going to church to be that of
doing obeisance to the clergy."

To the same effect Mr. Tylor says, in the passage already
quoted, that deaf-mutes cannot form ideas of any save the
lowest degree of abstraction, and further on he gives some
interesting illustrations of the fact. Thus, for instance, a deaf-
mute who had been educated said that before his instruction

RELATION OF TONE AND GESTURE TO WORDS. 151

his fingers had taught him his numbers, and that when the
number was over ten, he made notches on a piece of wood.
Here we see the inherited capability of numerical computation
united with the crudest form of numerical notation, or sym-
bolism. And so in all other cases of deaf-mutes before
instruction ; they present an inherited capacity of abstract
ideation, and yet do not find their sign-language of much
service in assisting them to develop this capacity : it is too
essentially pictorial to go far beyond the region of sensuous
perception.

Thus, on the whole, although I deem it profitless to
speculate on what the language of gestures might have
become in the absence of speech, I think it is highly question-
able whether it would have reached any considerable level of
excellence ; and I think it is not improbable that, in the
absence of articulation, the human race would not have made
much psychological advance upon the anthropoid apes. For
we must never forget the important fact that thought is quite
as much the effect as it is the cause of language, whether of
speech or of gesture ; and seeing how inferior gesture is to
speech as a system of language, especially in regard to pre-
cision and abstraction, I do not think it probable that, in the
absence of speech, gesture alone would have supplied the
exact and delicate conditions which are essential to the
growth of any highly elaborate ideation.

The next point which I desire to consider is that, although
gesture language is not in my opinion so efficient a means of
developing abstract ideation as is spoken language, it must
nevertheless have been of much service in assisting the
growth of the latter, and so must have been of much service
in laying the foundation of the whole mental fabric which has
been constructed by the faculty of speech. Whether we look
to young children, to savages, or in a lesser degree to idiots,
we find that gesture plays an important part in assisting
speech ; and in all cases where a vocabulary is scanty or
imperfect, gesture is sure to be employed as the natural
means of supplementing speech. Therefore, supposing

i52 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

speecli to ha\-c liad a natural mode of genesis, it is, in
ni}- opinion, perfectly certain that its origin and develop-
ment must have been greatly assisted by gesture. In sub-
sequent chapters I will adduce direct evidence upon this
head. At present I wish to draw attention to another point.
This is, that although gesture psychologically precedes speech,
when once articulate sounds have been devised for the ex-
pression of ideas, the faculty of using these articulate sounds
as signs of their corresponding ideas does not involve the
presence of a higher psychological development than does
the faculty of using tones and gestures for the conveyance of
similar ideas.

As already shown, it is a matter of observable fact that
the only animals which are able to articulate arc able to
employ nouns, adjectives, and verbs, as expressive of concrete
ideas ; while animals which are not able to articulate similarly
employ tones, and in many cases are able to understand
words. Therefore, it is a matter of observable fact that the
psychological level required for using tones as vocal gestures,
understanding words as expressive of simple ideas, and even
uttering words with a correct appreciation of their meaning,
is a level not higher than that which obtains in some existing
animals.

If we turn from animals to man, we find the same truth
exemplified. For in the descending grade of human intelli-
gence as exhibited by idiots, we see that while the use of
simple gestures as signs occurs in idiots somewhat too low in
the scale to utter any articulate words, nevertheless the
interval between such an idiot and one capable of uttering
the simplest words is a short interval. Again, in the ascend-
ing grade of human intelligence, as exhibited by the growing
child, we find the same observation to apply ; although, on
account of some children requiring a longer time than others
to develop the mechanique of articulation, we might by con-
sidering their cases alone over-estimate the psychological
interval which separates gesticulation from speech. *

* It will be remembered that in a previous chapter I argued the impossibility

RELATION OF TONE AND GESTURE TO WORDS. 1 53

Thus all the evidence at our disposal goes to show that,
while the language of tone and gesture is distinctive, in its
least-developed form, of a comparatively low grade of mental
evolution, in all but its least-developed form it is not thus
distinctive ; for as soon as the language of gesture becomes in
the smallest degree conventional, so soon is the psychological
level sufficiently high to admit of the use of articulate sounds,
vocal gestures, or words expressive of concrete ideas — always
supposing that these are already supplied by the psycho-
logical environment. Whether or not articulate sounds are
then actually made depends, of course, on conditions of a
purely anatomical kind.

And here it may be as well to remember the point pre-
viously mentioned, namely, that although no existing quad-
rumanous animal has shown itself able to articulate, we may
be quite sure that this fact depends on anatomical as dis-
tinguished from psychological conditions ; for not only are
the higher monkeys much more intelligent than talking birds,
but they are likewise much more imitative of human gestures;
and for both these reasons they are the animals which, more
than any others, would be psychologically apt to learn the
use of words from man, were it not for some accident of
anatomy which stands in the way of their uttering them.
And in this connection it is worth while to bear in mind the
remark of Professor Huxley, that an imperceptibly small
difference of innervation, or other anatomical character of the
parts concerned, might determine or prevent the faculty of
making articulate sounds.

Looking to the direction in which my argument is tending,
this appears to be the most convenient place to dispose of a

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 \\\\\
refjuire to be said upon this point in a future chapter.

154 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

criticism that is not unlikely to arise. It may be suggested,
by way of objection to my views, that if all the foregoing
discussion is accepted as paving the way to the conclusion
that human intelligence has been developed from animal
intelligence, the discussion itself is proving too much. For, if
animals possess in so conspicuous a degree the germ of the
sign-making faculty, why, it may be asked, has this germ been
developed only in the case of our own ancestors ?

In answer to this question I must begin by reminding the
reader, that during the course of the present chapter I have
endeavoured to make good the following positions. First,
that in the absence of articulation, or of the power of forming
verbal signs, the faculty of language is not likely to have
made much advance in the animal kingdom. Second, seeing
that words are essentially less ideographic, as well as more
precise than gestures — and, therefore, more available for the
purpose both of expressing and constructing abstract ideas, —
I do not think it is probable that in the absence of articu-
lation the human race would have made much psychological
advance upon the anthropoid apes. Third, that although
gesture language is not so efficient a means of developing
abstract ideation as is articulate language, it must neverthe-
less have been of much service in assisting the growth of the
latter ; so that where the power of articulation was present,
both systems of sign-making would have co-operated in the
development of abstract thought : in the presence of articu-
lation, gestures would themselves gain additional influence
in this respect.

From these data there follows the important consequence
that only from some species of ape which possessed the
requisite anatomical conditions could the human mind have
taken its origin. In other words, the above considerations
are adduced to show the futility of arguing that, if the human
mind has been developed in virtue of the sign-making faculty
as this is exemplified in speech, we might therefore have
expected that from the same starting-point (namely, the anthro-
poid apes) some comparably well-elaborated mind should have

RELATION OF TONE AND GESTURE TO WORDS. 155

been developed in virtue of the sign-making faculty as this is
exemplified in gesture. I maintain that we can see very good
reason why (even if we suppose all the other conditions
parallel) the branch of the Primates which presented the
power — or the potentiality — of articulation should have been
able to rise in the psychological scale, as we evolutionists
believe that it has risen ; while all the companion branches,
being restricted in their language to gesture, should have
remained in their original condition.

To this it may be answered that the talking birds might
be looked to as the possible — or even probable — rivals of
articulating mammals in respect of potential intelligence ;
and, therefore, that according to the views which I am
advocating, it might have been expected that there should
now be existing upon the earth some race of bird-like creatures
ready to dispute the supremacy of man.

This, however, would be a very shallow criticism. The
veriest tyro in natural science is aware that, if there is any
truth at all in the general theory of descent, we are every-
where compelled to see that the conditions which determine
the development of a species in any direction are always of a
complex character. Why one species should remain constant
through inconceivably enormous lapses of geological time,
while others pass through a rich and varied history of upward
change — why this should be so in any case we cannot say.
We can only say, in general terms, that the conditions which
in any case determine upward growth or stationary type are
too numerous and complex to admit of our unravelling them
in detail; Now, if this is the case even as between the
structures of allied types — where there may be nothing to
indicate the difference of the conditions which have led to the
difference of results, — much more must it be the case between
animals so unlike as a parrot and an ape. I think he would
be a bold man who would affirm that even if the orang-
outang had been able to articulate, this ape would necessarily,
or probably, have become the progenitor of another human
race. Absurd, then, it is to argue that, if the human race

156 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN,

sprang from some other species of man-like creature, and
became human in virtue of the power of articulation plus all
the other conditions external and internal, therefore the
talking birds ought to have developed some similar progeny,
merely because they happen to satisfy one of these conditions.

Take a fair analogy. Flying is no doubt a very useful
faculty to all animals which present it, and it is shown to
be mechanically possible in animals so unlike one another as
Insects, Reptiles, Birds, and Mammals. We might therefore
suppose that, from the fact of bats being able to fly, many
other mammals should have acquired the art. But, as they have
not done so, we can only say that the reason is because the
complex conditions leading to the growth of this faculty have
been satisfied in the bats alone. Similarly " the flight of
thought " is a most useful faculty, and it has only been
developed in man. One of the conditions required for its
development — power of articulation— occurs also in a few birds.
But to argue from this that these birds ought to have developed
the faculty of thought, would be just as unwarrantable as to
argue that some other mammals ought to have developed the
faculty of flight, seeing that they all present the most important
of the needful conditions — to wit, bones and muscles actuated
by nerves. Indeed, the argument would be even more un-
warranted than this ; for we can see plainly enough that the
most important conditions required for the development of
thought are of a psychological and social kind — those which
are merely anatomical being but of secondary value, even
though, as I have endeavoured to indicate, they are none the
less indispensable.

In short, I am not endeavouring to argue that the influence
of articulation on the development of thought is in any way
magical. Therefore, the mere fact that certain birds are able
to make articulate sounds in itself furnishes no more difficulty
to my argument than the fact that they are able to imitate a
variety of other sounds. P'or \.hc psychological use of articulate
sounds can only be developed in the presence of many other
and highly complex conditions, few if any of which can be

RELATION OF TONE AND GESTURE TO WORDS. I 57

shown to obtain among birds. If any existing species of
anthropoid ape had prov^ed itself capable of imitating articulate
sounds, there might have been a little more force in the
apparent difficulty ; though even in that case the argument
would not have been so strong as in the above parallel with
regard to the great exception furnished by bats in the matter
of flight.

So far, then, as we have yet gone, I do not anticipate that
opponents will find it prudent to take a stand. Seeing that
monkeys use their voices more freely than any other animals
in the way of intentionally expressive intonation ; that all the
higher animals make use of gesture signs ; that denotative
words are (psychologically considered) nothing more than
vocal gestures ; that, if there is any psychological interval
between simple gesticulation and denotative articulation, the
interval is demonstrably bridged in the case alike of talking
birds, infants, and idiots ; — seeing all these things, it is
evident that opponents of the doctrine of mental evolution
must take their stand, not on the faculty of artiadatioii, but
on that of speech. They must maintain that the mere
power of using denotative words implies no real advance
upon the power of using denotative gestures ; that it there-
fore establishes nothing to prove the possibility, or even the
probability, of articulation arising out of gesticulation ; that
their position can only be attacked by showing how a sign-
making faculty, whether expressed in gesticulation or in
articulation, can have become developed into the faculty
of predication ; that, in short, the fortress of their argument
consists, not in the power which man displays of using denota-
tive words, but in his power of constructing predicative
propositions. This central position, therefore, we must next
attack. But, before doing so, I will close the present chapter
by clearly defining the exact meanings of certain terms as
they will afterwards be used by me.

By the indicative stage of language, or sign-making, I
will understand the earliest stage that is exhibited by
intentional sign-making. This stage corresponds to the

158 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

divisions marked four and six in my rcprcscntativ^c scheme
(p. 88), and, as we have now so fully seen, is common to
animals and human beings. Indicative signs, then, whether
in the form of gestures, tones, or words, are intentionally
significant. For the most part they are expressive of
emotional states, and simple desires. When, for example, an
infant holds out its arms to be taken by the nurse, or points
to objects in order to be taken to them, it cannot be said to
be naming anything ; yet it is clearly indicating its wants.
Infants also cry intentionally, or as a partly conventional sign
to show discomfort, whether bodily or mental.* They will
likewise at an early age learn wholly conventional signs
whereby to indicate — though not yet to name — particular
feelings, objects, qualities, and actions. My son, for instance,
was taught by his nurse to shake his head for " No," nod it
for " Yes," and wave his hand for " Ta-ta," or leave-taking:
all these indicative gestures he performed well and appropri-
ately Avhen eight and a half months old. This indicative
stage of language, or sign-making, is universally exhibited by
all the more intelligent animals, although not to so great an
extent as in infants. The parrot which depresses its head
to invite a scratching, the dog which begs before a wash-
stand, the cat which pulls one's clothes to solicit help for her
kittens in distress — all these animals are making what I call
indicative signs.

Following upon the indicative stage of language there is
what I have called denotative (7 A in the scheme on p. 88), This
likewise occurs both in animals and in children when first
beginning to speak — talking birds, for instance, being able to
learn and correctly use names as not(B, or marks, of particular

* " 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. loi.)

RELATION OF TONE AND GESTURE TO WORDS. I 59

objects, qualities, and actions. Yet such notcE — be they verbal
or otherwise — thus learned by special association, are not,
strictly speaking, names. By the use of such a sign the
talking bird merely affixes a vocal mark to a particular object,
quality, or action : it does not extend the sign to any other
similar objects, qualities, or actions of the same class ; and,
therefore, by its use of that sign does not really connote any-
thing of the particular object, quality, or action which it
denotes.

So much, then, for signs as denotative. By signs as
connotative, I mean signs which are in any measure attributive.
If we call a dog Jack, that is a denotative name : it does not
attribute any quality as belonging to that dog. But if we
call the animal " Smut," or " Swift," or by any other word
serving to imply some quality which is distinctive of that dog,
we are thereby connoting of the dog the fact of his presenting
such a quality. Connotative names, therefore, differ from
denotative, in that they are not merely iiotcv or marks of the
things named, but also imply some character, or characters,
as belonging to those things. And the character, or
characters, which they thus imply, by the mere fact of
implication, assign the things named to a group: hence these
connotative names are con-notcB, or the marking of one thing
along zvith another — i.e. express an act of nominative classifi-
cation. This is an important fact to remember, because, as
we shall afterwards find, all connotative terms arise from the
need which we experience of thus verbally classifying our
perceptions of likeness or analogy. Moreover, it is of even
still more importance to note that such verbal classification
may be either receptual or conceptual. For instance, the first
word (after Mamma, Papa., &c.) that one of my children learnt
to say was the word Star. Soon after having acquired this
word, she extended its signification to other brightly shining
objects, such as candles, gas-lights, &c. Here there was
plainly a perception of likeness or analogy, and hence the
term Star, from having been originally denotative, began to
be also connotative. l^ut this connotative extension of the

l6o MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

term must evidently have been what I term rcccptual. For it
is impossible to suppose that at that tender age the child was
capable of thinking about the term as a term, or of setting the
term before the mind as an object of thought, distinct from
the object which it served to name. Therefore, we can only
suppose that the extension of this originally denotative name
(whereby it began to be connotative) resembled the case of a
similar extension mentioned in the last chapter, where my
parrot raised its originally denotative sign for a particular
dog to an incipiently connotative value, by applying that sign
to all other dogs. That is to say, both in the case of the
child and the bird, connotation within these moderate limits
was rendered possible by means of reccptual ideation alone.
But, with advancing age and developing powers, the human
mind attains to conceptual ideation ; and it is then in a
position to constitute the names which it uses themselves
objects of thought. The consequence is that connotation may
then no longer represent the merely spontaneous expression
of likeness receptually perceived : it may become the inten-
tional expression of likeness conceptually thought out. In
the mind of an astronomer the word Star presents a very
different mass of connotative meaning from that which it
presented to the child, who first extended it from a bright
point in the sky to a candle shining in a room. And the
reason of this great difference is, that the conceptual thought
of the astronomer, besides having greatly added to the conno-
tation, has also greatly improved it. The only common
quality which the name served to connote when used by the
child was that of brightness ; but, although the astronomer is
not blind to this point of resemblance between a star and a
candle, he disregards it in the presence of fuller knowledge,
and will not apply the term even to objects so much more
closely resembling a star as a comet or a meteor. Now, this
greater accuracy of connotation, quite as much as the greater
mass of it, has been reached by the astronomer in virtue of
his powers of conceptual thought. It is because he has
thought about his names as names that he has thus been able

RELATION OF TOXES AXD GESTURES TO WORDS. l6l

with SO much accuracy to define their meanings — i.e. to limit
their connotations in some directions, as well as to extend
them in others.

Obviously, therefore, we are here in the presence of a
great distinction, and one which needs itself to be in some
way connoted. It is, indeed, but a special exhibition of the
one great distinction which I have carried through the whole
course of this work — namely, that between ideation as receptual
and conceptual. But it is none the less important to desig-
nate this special exhibition of it by means of well-defined
terms ; and I can only express surprise that such should not
already have been done by logicians. The terms which I
shall use are the following.

By a connotative name I will understand the connotative
extension of a denotative name, whether such extension be
great or small, and, therefore, whether it be extended re-
ceptually or conceptually. But for the exclusively conceptual
extension of a name I will reserve the convenient term
denomination. This term, like those previously defined, was
introduced by the schoolmen, and by them was used as
synonymous with connotation. But it is evident that they
(and all subsequent writers) only had before their minds the
case of conceptual connotation, and hence they felt no need
of the distinction which for present purposes it is obviously
imperative to draw. Now, I do not think that any two more
appropriate words could be found whereby to express this
distinction than are these words connotation and denomination,
if for the purposes of my own subsequent analysis I am
allowed to define them in accordance with their etymology.
For, when so defined, a connotative sign will mean a
classificatory sign, whether conferred receptually or con-
ceptually ; while a denominative sign will mean a connotative
sign which has been conferred as such with a truly conceptual
intention — i.e. with an introspective appreciation of its
function as ail that logicians understand by a name.

I will now sum up these sundry definitions.

By an indicative sign I will understand a significant tone

M

I 62 MENTAL EVOLUTION IX MAN.

or gesture intentionally expressive of a mental state ; but )'et
not in any sense of the word denominative.

By a denotative sign I will understand the receptual mark-
ing of particular objects, qualities, actions, &c.

By a connotative sign I will understand the classificator\'
attribution of qualities to objects named by the sign, whether
such attribution be due to receptual or to conceptual
operations of the mind.

By a denominative sign I will understand a connotative
sign consciously bestowed as such, or with a full conceptual
appreciation of its office and purpose as a name.

By a predicative sign I will mean a proposition, or the
conceptual apposition of two denominative terms, expressive
of the speaker's intention to connote something of the one by
means of the other.

( i63 )

CHAPTER IX.

SPEECH.

We are now coming to close quarters with our subject. All
the foregoing chapters have been arranged with a view to
preparing the way for what is hereafter to follow ; and, there-
fore, as already remarked, I have thus far presented material
over which I do not think it is possible that any dispute can
arise. But now we come to that particular exhibition of the
sign-making faculty which not only appears to be peculiar to
man, but which obviously presents so great an advance upon
all the lower phases hitherto considered, that it is the place
where my opponents have chosen to take their stand. When
a man maintains that there is a difference of kind between
animal and human intelhgence, he naturally feels himself
under some obligation to indicate the point where this
difference obtains. To say that it obtains with the appearance
of language, in the sense of sign-making, is obviously too
wide a statement ; for, as we have now so fully seen, language,
in this widest sense, demonstrably obtains among the lower
animals. Consequently, the line m.ust be drawn, not at
language or sign-making, but at that particular kind of sign-
making which we understand by Speech. Now the distinctive
peculiarity of this kind of sign-making — and one, therefore,
which docs not occur in any other kind — consists in predica-
tion, or the using of signs as movable types for the purpose
of making propositions. It does not signify whether or not
the signs thus used are words. The gestures of Indians and
deaf-mutes admit, as we have seen, of being wrought up into

1 64 MENTAL EVOLUTION L\ MAN.

a machinery of predication which, for all purposes of practical
life, is almost as efficient as speech. The distinction, therefore,
resides in the intellectual powers ; not in the symbols thereof.
So that a man means, it matters not by what system of signs
he expresses his meaning : the distinction between him and
the brute consists in his being able to j/iean a proposition.
Now, the kind of mental act whereby a man is thus enabled
to mean a proposition is called by psychologists an act of
Judgment. Predication, or the making of a proposition,
is nothing more nor less than the expression of a judgment ;
and a judgment is nothing more nor less than the appre-
hension of whatever meaning it may be that a proposition
serves to set forth. Therefore, it belongs to the very essence
of predication that it should involve a judgment ; and it
belongs to the very essence of a judgment that it should
admit of being stated in the form of a proposition.*

* 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, sHll the fact of
their existence tn7ist be recognized ; and the processes in question have reference
to them, not to their physical counterjjarts. It is, therefore, just as incorrect to

SPEECH. 165

Lastly, just as this is the place where my opponents take a
stand, so, as they freely allow, it is the only place where they
can take a stand. If once this chasm of speech were bridged,
there would be no further chasm to cross. From the simplest
judgment which it is possible to make, and therefore from the
simplest proposition which it is possible to construct, it is on
all hands admitted that human intelligence displays an other-
wise uniform or uninterrupted ascent through all the grades
of excellence which it afterwards presents. Here, then, and
here alone, we have what Professor Max Mliller calls the
Rubicon of Mind, which separates the brute from the man,
and over which, it is alleged, the army of Science can never
hope to pass.

In order to present the full difficulty which is here en-
countered, I will allow it to be stated by the ablest of my
opponents. As President of the Biological Section of the
British Association in 1879, Mr. Mivart expressed his matured
thought upon the subject thus : —

" The simplest element of thought seems to me to be a
'judgment,' with intuition of reality concerning some 'fact,'
regarded as a fact real or ideal. Moreover, this judgment is
not itself a modified imagination, because the imaginations
which may give occasion to it persist unmodified in the mind
side by side with the judgment they have called up. Let us
take, as examples, the judgments, 'That thing is good to eat,'
and ' Nothing can be and not be at the same time and in the
same sense.' As to the former, we vaguely imagine ' things
good to eat ;' but they must exist beside the judgment, not hi
it. They can be recalled, compared, and seen to co-exist. So
with the other judgment, the mind is occupied with certain
abstract ideas, though the imagination has certain vague

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 jiurposcly threw his
criticisms into a preposterous form.

1 66 MENTAL EVOLUTION IX MAX.

' images ' answering respectively to ' a thing being,' and ' a
thing not being,' and to 'at the same time' and 'in the same
sense;' but the images do not constitute the judgment itself,
any more than human 'swimming' is made up of limbs and
fluid, though without such necessary elements no such swim-
ming could take place.*

" This distinction is also shown by the fact that one and
the same idea may be suggested to, and maintained in, the
mind by the help of the most incongruous images, and very
different ideas by the very same image ; this we may see to
be the case with such ideas as ' number,' ' purpose,' ' motion,'
' identity,' &c.

" But the distinctness of ' thought ' from ' imagination ' may
perhaps be made clearer by the drawing out fully wliat we
really do when we make some simple judgment, as, e.^., ' A
negro is black.' Here, in the first place, we directly and
explicitly affirm that there is a conformity between the
external thing, 'a negro,' and the external quality 'blackness'
• — the negro possessing that quality. We affirm, secondarily
and implicit!)', a conformity between two external entities and
two corresponding internal concepts. And thirdly, and lastly,
we also implicitly affirm the existence of a conformity between
the subjective judgment and the objective existence." t

I will next allow this matter to be presented in the words
of another adversary, and one whom Mr. Mivart approvingly
quotes.

"The question is. Can the sense say anything — make a
judgment at all? Can it furnish the blank formula of a
judgment — the ' is ' in ' A is B ' .? The grass of the battlefield
was green, and the sense gave both the grass and the green-

* 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."

t A^ature, August 21, 1879.

SPEECH. 167

ness ; but did it affirm that ' the grass is green ' ? It may be
assumed that ' grass' and 'green ' together form one complex
object, which is an object under space and time, and therefore
of sense. But against this the rejoinder at once is, that the
sense may indeed take in and report (so to speak) a complex
object, but that in this case the question is, not about the com-
plex object, but about the complexity of the object. It is one
thing to see green grass, and evidently quite another to affirm
\\\Q greenness of the grass. The difference is all the difference
between seeing two things united, and seeing them as nnited.
... If a brute could think ' is,' brute and man would be
brothers. ' Is,' as the copula of a judgment, implies the
mental separation, and recombination of two terms that only
exist united in nature, and can therefore never have impressed
the sense except as one thing.* And 'is,' considered as a
substantive verb, as in the example ' This man is,' contains in
itself the application of the copula of judgment to the most
elementary of all abstractions — ' thing ' or ' something.' Yet if
a being has the power of thinking — ' thing,' it has the power
of transcending space and time by dividing or decomposing
the phenomenally one. Here is the point where instinct ends
and reason begins." f

It would be easy to add quotations from other writers to
the same effect as the above ; % but these may be held sufficient
to give material for the first stage of my criticism, which is of
a purely technical character. I affirm that all writers who
thus take their stand upon the distinctively human faculty of
predication are taking their stand at the wrong place. In
other words, without at present disputing whether we have to
do with a distinction of kind or of degree, I say, and say con-

• 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.

t Lessons from Nature, pp. 226, 227.

% For instance, Professor Francis Bowen, of Harvard College, in an essay on
'1 he Ifumau and Brute Mind, Princeton Ret'ieio, 1880.

168 MENTAL EVOLUriOX IX MAX.

fidently, that the distinction in question — i.e. between animal
and human intelligence — may be easily proved to occur
further back than at the faculty of predication, or the forming
of a proposition. The distinction occurs at the faculty of
denomination, or the bestowing of a name, known as such.
" The simplest element of thought " is 7iot a "Judgment:" the
simplest element of thought is a concept. That this is the
case admits of being easily demonstrated in several different
ways.

In the first place, it is evident that there could be no
judgments without concepts, just as there could bono proposi-
tions without terms. A judgment is the result of a comparison
of concepts, and this is the reason why it can only find ex-
pression in a proposition, which sets forth the relation between
the concepts by bringing into apposition their corresponding
terms. Judgments, therefore, are coniponnds of thought :
the elements are concepts.

In the second place, given the power of conceiving, and
the germ of judgment is implied, though not expanded into
the blossom of formal predication. For whenever we
bestow a name we are implicitly judging that the thing to
which we apply the name presents the attributes connoted by
that name, and thus we are virtually predicating the fact. For
example, when I call a man a "Negro," the very term itself
affirms blackness as the distinctive quality of that individual
— ^just as does the equivalent nurser}^ term, " IMack-man." To
utter the name Negro, therefore, or the name Black-man, is to
form and pronounce at least two judgments touching an indi-
vidual object of sensuous perception — to wit, that it is a man,
and that he is black. The judgments so formed and pro-
nounced are doubtless not so explicit as is the case when both
subject and predicate are associated in the full proposition —
"A negro is black ;" but in the single term Negro, or Black-
man, both these elements were already present, and must
have been so if the name were in any degree at all concep-
tual— i.e. denominative as distinguished from denotative. In
the illustration "Negro," or " Black-man," it so happens that the

SPEECH. 169

connotation of the name is directly given by the etymology of
the name ; but this circumstance is immaterial. Whether or
not the etymology of a connotative name happens to fit the
particular subject to which it is applied, the same kind of
classificatory judgment is required for any appropriate appli-
cation of the same. If, with Blumenbach, I am accustomed
to call a negro an Ethiopian, when I apply this name to any
representative of that race, I am performing the same mental
act as my neighbour who calls him a Negro, or my child who
calls him a Black-man. If it should be said that in all such
cases the act of naming is so immediately due to association
that no demand is made upon the powers of judgment, the
admission would be a dangerous one for my opponents to
make, since the same remark would apply to the full proposi-
tion, "That man is black." Moreover, the objection admits of
being easily disposed of by choosing instances of naming
where associations have not yet been definitively fixed. If I
am travelling in a strange continent, and amid all the unfamiliar
flora there encountered I suddenly perceive a plant which I
think I know, before I name it to my friend as that plant,
I would submit it to close scrutiny — i.e. carefully judge its
resemblances to the known or familiar species. In short, all
connotative names, when dcnominatively applied, betoken
acts of judgment, which differ from those concerned in full
predication only as regards the form of their expression. Or,
as Mill very tersely remarks, " whenever the names given to
objects convey any information, that is, whenever they have
properly any meaning, the meaning resides not in what they
denote, but in what they connote." And although in his
elaborate treatment of Names and Propositions he omits ex-
pressly to notice the point now before us, it is clearly implied
in the above quotation. The point is that connotative names
(or denominative terms)* are often in themselves of predicative
value ; and this point is clearly implied in the above quotation,

* Mill, following the schoolmen, uses the terms connotation and ilenominalion
as synonymous. For the distinction which I have drawn between tlieni sec above,
p. 162.

170 MENTAL EVOLUTION LN MAN.

because, whenever "names given to objects convey any infor-
mation," the information thus conveyed is virtually predicated :
the "meaning" connoted by the name is affirmed in the mere
act of bestowing the name, which thus in itself becomes a con-
densed proposition. "It is a truism of psychology that the
terms of a proposition, when closely interrogated, turn out to
be nothing but abbreviated judgments." *

This view of the matter, then, is the only one that can be
countenanced by psychology. It is likewise the only one
that can be countenanced by philology, or the study of
language in the making. Of this fact I will adduce abundant
evidence in a subsequent chapter, where it will be shown, as
Professor Max Mliller says, that " every name was originally
a proposition." But at present I am only concerned with one
of the most elementary points of purely psychological analysis,
and will therefore postpone the independent illumination of
the whole philosophy of predication which of late years has
been so splendidly furnished by the comparative study of
languages.

From whatever point of view, therefore, we look at the
matter, we are bound to conclude, either that the term "judg-
ment " must be applied indifferently to the act of denominating
and to the act of predicating, or else, if it be restricted to the
latter, that it must not be regarded as " the simplest element
of thought." And thus we are led back to the position
previously gained while treating of the Logic of Concepts.
For we then found that names are the steps of the intellectual
ladder whereby we climb into higher and higher regions of
ideation ; and although our progress is assisted by formal
predication, or discursive thought, this is but the muscular
energy, so to speak, which would in itself be useless but for
the rungs already supplied, and on which alone that energy
can be expended. Or, to vary the metaphor, conceptual
names are the ingredients out of which is formed the structure
of propositions ; and, in order that this formation should take
place, there must already be in the ingredients that element

* Sayce, Tutrod7ictic)i to the Srieuce of Language, \., 115.

SPEECH. I 7 r

of vitality which constitutes the vis formativa. Now, this
element of vitality is the element of conceptual ideation,
already exhibited in every denominative term.

Therefore, for the sake at once of clearness and of brevity,
I will hereafter speak of predication as material and formal.
By material predication I will mean conceptual denomination,
whereby, in the mere act of bestowing a connotative term, we
are virtually predicating of the thing thus designated some
fact, quality, or relation, which the name bestowed is intended
to indicate. By formal predication I will mean the apposition
of denominative terms, with the intention of setting forth some
relation which is thus expressed as subsisting between them.
But, as already observed, I regard this distinction as artificial.
Psychologically speaking, there is no line of demarcation be-
tween these two kinds of predication. Whether I say " Fool,"
or " Thou art a fool," I am similarly assigning the subject of
my remark to a certain category of men : I am similarly
giving expression to my judgment with regard to the qualities
presented by one particular man. The distinction, then,
between what I call material and formal predication is merely
a distinction in rhetoric : as a m.atter of psychology there is
no distinction at all.

If to all this it should be objected, in accordance with the
psychological doctrines set forth by Mr. Mivart, above quoted,
that a judgment as embodied in a proposition differs from a
concept as embodied in a name in respect of the copula, and
therefore in presenting the idea of existence as existence ; I
answer, in the first place, that every concept must necessarily
present this idea however implicitly ; and, in the next place,
that however explicitly it may be stated as a judgment, it is
not of more conceptual value than that of any other quality
belonging to a subject. As regards the first point, when an
object, a quality, an action, &c., is named, it is thereby
abstracted as a distinct creation of thought, separated out
from other things, and made to stand before the mind as a
distinct entity (see Chapter IV.). Therefore, in the very act
of naming we arc virtually predicating existence of the thing

1/2 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAN.

named : the power to " think is " is the power concerned in
the fonnatioji of a concept, not in the apposing of concepts
^vhen formed. All that is done in an act of such apposition is
to bring together two ideas of two things already conceived as
existing : were it not so there could be no-tJdngs to compare.*
And now, as regards the second point, so far is it from
being true that the predication of existence is the essential or
most important feature even of a full or formal proposition,
that it is really the least essential or least important. For
existence is the category to which everything must belong if
it is to be judged about at all, and therefore merely to judge
that A is and B is, is to form the most barren (or least signifi-
cant) judgment that can be formed with regard to A or B ; and
when we bring these two judgments (concepts) together in the
proposition A is B, the new judgment which we make has
nothing to do with the existence either of A or of B, nor has
it really anything to do with existence as such. The existence
both of A and of B has been already pre-supposed in the two
concepts, and when these two existing things are brought into
apposition, no third existence is thereby supposed to have
been created. The copula therefore really stands, not as a
symbol of existence, but as the symbol of relation, and might
just as well be replaced by any other sign (such as = ), or,
indeed, be dispensed with altogether. " As we use the verb
is, so the Latins use their verb est and the Greeks their
IgtI through all its declensions. Whether all other nations
of the world have in their several languages a word that
answereth to it, or not, I cannot tell ; but I am sure they
have no need of it. For the placing of two names in order
[i.e. in apposition^ may serve to signify their consequence, if it

* 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
sjieaker.

SPEECH. 173

were the custom, as well as the words is, to be, and the like.
And if it were so, that there were a language without any
v^erb answering to est, or is, or be, yet the men that used it
would be not a jot the less capable of inferring, concluding,
and of all kind of reasoning than were the Greeks and Latins."
This shrewd analysis by Hobbes is justly said by Mill to be
" the only analysis of a proposition which is rigorously true of
all propositions without exception ; " and Professor Max
Miiller says of it, " Hobbes, though utterly ignorant of the
historical antecedents of language, agrees with us in the most
remarkable manner." *

Thus, then, upon the whole, and without further treatment,
it may be concluded that whether we look to its simplest
manifestations or to its most complex, we must alike conclude
that it is the faculty of conception, not that of judgment — the
faculty of denomination, not that of predication — which we
have to regard as "the simplest element of thought." Of
course, if it were said that these two faculties are one in
kind — that in order to conceive we must judge, and in order
to name we must predicate — I should have no objection to
offer. All I am at present engaged upon is to make it clear
that the distinction between man and brute in respect of the

* In order to avoid misapprehension, I may olDserve 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 ajit
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 iiy the progress
of linguistic research.

174 MEXTAL EVOLUTIOX IN MAN.

Logos must be drawn at the place where this distuiction first
obtains ; and this place is where judi^ment is concerned with
conception, or with the bestowing of names in the sense
previously explained as denominative. The subsequent work-
ing up of names into propositions is merely a further exhi-
bition of the self-same faculty. It is as true of judgment when
displayed in denomination as it is of judgment when displayed
in predication, that " it is not itself a modified imagination,
because the imaginations which may give rise to it persist
unmodified in the mind side by side with it." For, as we have
seen, the act of denominating (as distinguished from deno-
tating) is in and of itself an act of predicating. When a
naturalist bestows a name upon a new species of plant or
animal, he \\2iSj?idged a. resemblance 2,\\^ predicates a fact — i.e.
that the hitherto un-named form belongs to certain genus or
kind. And so it is with all other names when conceptually
bestowed, because everywhere such names are expressions of
conceptual classification — the bringing together of like things,
or the separation of unlike. In short, all names which present
any conceptual meaning are in themselves condensed proposi-
tions, or " material predications ; " and only as such can they
afterwards become terms, i.e. constitute the essential elements
of any more extended proposition, or " formal predication."
Therefore it is the faculty of naming wherein is first displayed
— and, according to the doctrine of Nominalism, whereby is
first attained — that great and distinctive characteristic of the
human mind which Mr. Mivart and those who think with him
have in view ; and, unless we espouse the doctrine of Realism —
which neither these nor any other psychologists with whom
I have to do are likely now-a-days to countenance, — it is
plain that " the simplest element of thought " is a concept.

If I do not apologize for having occupied so much space
over so obvious a point, it is only because I believe that any
one who reads these pages will sympathize with my desire
to avoid ambiguity, and thus to reduce the question before
us to its naked reality. So far, it will be observed, this

SPEECH. 175

question has not been touched. I am not disputing that an
immense and an extraordinary distinction obtains, and I do
not anticipate that either Mr. Mivart or any one else will take
exception to this preliminary clearing of the ground, which
has been necessitated only on account of my opponents
having been careless enough to represent the Proposition as
the simplest exhibition of the Logos. But now the time has
arrived when we must tackle the distinction in serious
earnest.

Wherein does this distinction truly consist? It consists,
as I believe all my opponents will allow, in the power which
the human being displays of objectifying ideas, or of setting
one state of mind before another state, and contemplating
the relation between them. The power to " think is " — or,
as I should prefer to state it, the power to think at all — is the
poiver which is given by introspective reflection in the light of
self-conscioiiS7iess. It is because the human mind is able, so
to speak, to stand outside of itself, and thus to constitute its
own ideas the subject-matter of its own thought, that it is
capable of judgment in the technical sense above explained,
whether in the act of conception or in that of predication.
For thus it is that these ideas are enabled " to exist beside the
judgment, not in it ; " thus it is that they may themselves
become objects of thought. We have no evidence to show
that any animal is capable of thus objectifying its own ideas ;
and, therefore, we have no evidence that any animal is
capable of judgment. Indeed I will go further, and affirm
that we have the best evidence which is derivable from what
are necessarily ejective sources, to prove that no animal
can possibly attain to these excellencies of subjective life.
This evidence will gradually unfold itself as we proceed, so
at present it is enough to say, in general terms, that it consists
in a most cogent proof of the absence in brutes of the needful
conditions to the occurrence of these excellencies as they
obtain in themselves. From which it follows that the great
distinction between the brute and the man really lies behind
the faculties both of conception and predication : it resides in

176 MENTAL EVOLUTION JN MAN.

the conditions to the occurrence of either. What these con-
ditions are I will consider later on. Meanwhile, and in order
that we may be perfectly clear about the all-important dis-
tinction which is before us, I will re-state it in other terms.

What is the difference between a recept and a concept .'
I cannot answer this question more clearly or concisely than
in the words of the writer in the Dublin Review before quoted.
" The difference is all the difference between seeing two
things united, and seeing them as wiited.'" The difference
is all the difference between perceiving relations, and per-
ceiving the relations as related^ or between cognizing a truth,
and recognizing that truth as true. The diving bird, which
avoids a rock and fearlessly plunges into the sea, unquestion-
ably displays a receptual knowledge of certain " things,"
" relations," and " truths ; " but it does not know any of them
as such : although it knows them, it does not kuoiu that it
knozus tJieni : however well it knows them, it does not thi)ik
them, or regard the things, the relations, and the truths which
it perceives as tJieinsdves the objects of perception. Now, over
and above this merely receptual knowledge, man displays
conceptual, which means that he is able to do all these things
that the bird cannot do : in other words, he is able to set
before his mind all the recepts which he has in common with
the bird, to think about them as recepts, and by the mere
fact, or in the very act of so doing, to convert them into
concepts. Concepts, then, differ from recepts in that they
arc recepts wdiich have themselves become objects of know-
ledge, and the condition to their taking on this important
character is the presence of self-consciousness in the percipient
mind.*

I have twice stated the distinction as clearly as I am able ;
but, in order to do it the fullest justice, I will now render it
a third time in the words of Mr. Mivart — some of whose
terms I have borrowed in the above paragraph, and therefore

* Of 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.

SFEECFT. 177

need not now repeat. He begins by conveying the distinction
as it was stated by Bufifon, thus : —

" Far from denying feelings to animals, I concede to them
everything except thought and reflection. . . . They have
sensations, but no faculty of comparing them with one
another, that is to say they have not the power which pro-
duces ideas " — i.e. products of reflection. Then, after alluding
to Bufton's views on the distinction between " automatic
memory" and "intellectual memory" {i.e. the distinction
which I have recognized in the Diagram attached to my
previous work by calling the former " memory" and the latter
" recollection "), Mr. Mivart adds : — " The distinction is one
quite easy to perceive. That we have automatic memor}',
such as animals have, is obvious : but the presence of
intellectual memory may be made evident by searching
our minds (so to speak) for something which we have
fully remembered before, and thus intellectually remember
to have known, though we cannot now bring it before the
imagination. And as with memory, so with other of our
mental powers, we may, I think, distinguish between a higher
and a lower faculty of each ; between our higher, self-con-
scious, reflective mental acts — the acts of our intellectual
faculty — and those of our merely sensitive power. This dis-
tinction I believe to be one of the most fundamental of all the
distinctions of biology, and to be one the apprehension of
which is a necessary preliminary to a successful investigation
of animal psychology." *

Were it necessary, I could quote from his work, entitled

Lessons from Nature, sundry further passages expressing

the same distinction in other words ; but I have already been

careful, even to redundancy, in presenting this distinction, not

only because it is the distinction on which Mr. Mivart rests

his whole argument for the separation of man from the rest

of the animal kingdom as a being unique in kind ; but still

more because it is, as he is careful to point out, the one real

distinction which has hitherto always been drawn by philo-

* Nature, August 21, 1879.

N

1/8 MEXTAL EVOLUIIOX IN MAN.

sophers since the time of Aristotle. And, as I have already-
observed, it is a distinction which I myself fully recognize,
and believe to be the most important of all distinctions in
psychology. The only point of difference, therefore, between
my opinions and those — I will not say of Mr. Mivart, but — of
any other or possible opponent who understands the psycho-
logy of this subject, is on the question whether, in view of
the light which has now been shed on psychology by the
theory of evolution, this important distinction is to be
regarded as one of degree or as one of kind. I shall now
proceed to unfold the reasons which lead me to differ on this
point from Mr. Mivart, and so from all the still extensive
school of which he is, in my opinion, much the ablest
spokesman.

We have seen that the distinction in question consists in
the presence or absence of the faculty now fully explained, of
reflective thought, and that of this faculty the simplest
manifestation is, as alleged by my opponents, that which
is afforded by "judgment." But we have also seen that
this faculty of judgment does not first appear in predication,
unless we extend the term so as to embrace all acts of
denomination. In other words, we have seen that judgment
first arises with conception — and necessarily so, seeing that
neither of these things can occur without the other, but both
arise as direct exhibitions of that faculty of self-conscious
or reflective thought of which they are everywhere the
immediate expression. I will, therefore, begin with a careful
analysis of conceptual judgment.

We must first recur to the distinctions set forth at the
close of the last chapter, where it was shown that, without
any prejudice to the question touching the distinction
between man and brute, there are five different stages of
intentional sign-making to be recognized — namely, the in-
dicative, the denotative, the cotmotative, the denominative, and
the predicative. From what has now been said regarding the
essentially predicative nature of all conceptual names, we

SPEECH. 1 79

may disregard the last of these distinctions, and consider the
denominative phase of language as psychologically identical
Avith the predicative. Similarly, we may now neglect the
indicative phase, as one which bears no relation to the matters
at present before us. Thus we have to fasten attention only
upon the differences between the denotative, the connotative,
and the denominative phases of language. This has already
been done in general terms ; but must now be done in more
detail. And for the sake of being clear, even at the risk of
being tedious, I will begin by repeating the important dis-
tinctions already explained.

When a parrot calls a dog Boiv-zvozv (as a parrot, like a
child, may easily be taught to do), the parrot may be said, in
one sense of the word, to be naming the dog ; but it is not
predicating any characters as belonging to a dog, or per-
forming any act oi judgment with regard to a dog. Although
the bird may never (or but rarely) utter the name save
when it sees a dog, this fact is attributable to the laws of
association acting only in the receptual sphere : it furnishes
no shadow of a reason for supposing that the bird thinks
about a dog as a. dog, or sets the concept Dog before its
mind as a separate object of thought. Therefore, all my
opponents must allow that in one sense of the word there
may be names without concepts : whether as gestures or
as words (vocal gestures), there may be signs of things
without these signs presenting any vestige of predicative
value. Names of this kind I have called denotative : they
are marks affixed to objects, qualities, actions, &c., by
receptual association alone.

Next, when a denotative name has been formed and
applied as the mark of one thing, its use may be extended to
denote also another thing, which is seen to belong to the
same class or kind. When denotative names are thus
extended, they become what I have called connotative. The
degree to which such classificatory extension of a denotative
name may take place depends, of course, on the degree in
which the mind is able to take co^fnizance of resemblances

I So MEXTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

or analogies. Now, these degrees are as various as are the
degrees of intelHgence itself. Long before the differential
engine of Conception has come to the assistance of Mind, both
animals and human beings (as previously shown) are able to
go a long way in the distinguishing of resemblances, or
analogies, by means of reccptual ideation alone. When such
receptual discrimination is expressed by the corresponding
extension of denotative names, the degree of connotation which
such names may thus acquire depends upon the degree of this
receptual discrimination. Even my parrot was able to extend
its denotative name for a particular dog to any other dog which
it happened to see — thus precisely resembling my child, who
extended its first denotative word Star to a candle. Conno-
tation, then, begins in the purely receptual sphere of ideation;
and although in man it is afterwards carried up into the con-
ceptual sphere, it is obviously most imperative for the purposes
of this analysis to draw a distinction between connotation as
receptual and as conceptual.

This distinction I have drawn by assigning the word
deiiouiination to all connotation which is of a truly conceptual
nature — or to the bestowing of names consciously recognized
as such. And I have just shown that when connotation is
thus denominative or conceptual, it is psychologically the
same as predication. Therefore it is only in this denominative
sense of the word, or in cases where conceptual ideation is
concerned, that an act of naming involves an act of judg-
ment, strictly so called.

Such being the psychological standing of the matter, it is
evident that the whole question before us is narrowed down
to a clearing up of the relations that obtain between con-
notation as receptual and conceptual — or between connotation,
that is, and connotation that is not, denominative. To do
this I will begin by quoting an instance of un-denominative or
receptual connotation in the case of a young child.

" There is this peculiar to man — the sound which has
been associated in his case with the perception of some
particular individual is called up again, not only at the sight

SPEECH. 1 8 I

of absolutely similar individuals, but also by the presence of
individuals strikingly different, though in some respects com-
prised in the same class. In other words, analogies which do
not strike animals strike men. The child says Bozu-zvozu, first
to the house-dog, then, after a little, he says Bozv-ivoiv to the
terriers, mastiffs, and Newfoundlands he sees in the street.
A little later he does what an animal never does, he says
Bow-ivozv to a paste-board dog which barks when squeezed,
then to a paste-board dog which does not bark, but runs on
wheels, then to the silent motionless bronze dog which
ornaments the drawing-room, then to his little cousin who
runs about the room on all fours, then, at last, to a picture
representing a dog."*

Now, in this small but typical history we have a clear
exhibition, in a simple form, of the development of a con-
notative name within the purely receptual sphere. At first
the word Bow-wow was merely a denotative name — or a mark
affixed to a particular object of perception. But when the
child's mind took cognizance of the resemblances between
the house-dog, terriers, mastiffs, and Newfoundlands, it
expressed the fact by extending the name Bozv-zuozv to all
these dogs. The name, from being particular, thus became
generic, or indicative of resemblances; and, therefore, from
being merely denotative, became truly connotative : it now
served to express coviiuon attributes. Next, this receptual
connotation of the name was still further widened, so as to
include — or to signify — the resemblances between dogs and
their images, pictures, &c. Now, in these several and successive
acts of connotative naming, the child was obviously advancing
to higher and higher levels of receptual classification ; but,
no less obviously, it would be absurd to suppose that the
child was thus raising the name Bow-wotu to any conceptual
value. All that any child in such a case is doing is to extend
its receptual appreciation of resemblance through widening
circles of generic grouping, and correspondingly to extend
the receptual connotation of a denotative name. In order to
* Taine, Iiifel/igaict; pp. 399, 400.

lS2 MEXTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX.

do this (within the limits that wc are now considering), there
is no need for any introspective regarding of the name as a
name: there is no need to contemplate the widening connota-
tion of the name : there is no need to judge, to define, to
denominate. Such classification as is here effected can be
effected within the region of receptual consciousness alone (as
we well know from the analogous case of the parrot, and the
" practical inferences " of the lower animals generally) ; there-
fore, if the denotative name originally assigned to a particular
dog admitted of being so assigned as merely the mark of that
particular recept, there is no reason to suppose that its subse-
quent extension to the more generic recepts afterwards
experienced involves any demand upon the conceptual
faculty, or implies that the child could only extend this
name from a house-dog to a terrier by first performing an act
of introspective thought — which, indeed, as we shall see later
on, it is demonstrably impossible that a child of this age can
be able to do.

Nevertheless, it is evident that already the child has done
more than the parrot. For a parrot will never extend its
denotative name of a particular dog to the picture, or even to
the image of a dog. The utmost that a parrot will do is to
extend the denotative name from one particular dog to
another particular dog, which, however, may differ con-
siderably from the former as to size, colour, and general
appearance. Still, I presume, no one will maintain that thus
far there is the faintest evidence of a difference of kind
between the connotative faculty of the bird and that of the
child. All that these facts can be held to show is that — in
the words already quoted from M. Taine while narrating
these facts — "analogies which do not strike animals strike
men." Or, in my own phraseology, the receptual faculties of
a parrot do not go further than the receptual faculties of a
very young child : consequently, the denotative name in the
case of the parrot only undergoes the first step in the process
of receptual extension — namely, from a house-dog to a terrier,
a setter, a mastiff, a Newfoundland, &c. But in the case of

SFEECir. 183

the child, after having reached this stage, the process of
extension continues, so as to embrace images, and eventually
pictures of dogs. This difference, however, only shows an
adv^ance in the merely receptual faculties : does not suggest
that in order to carry the extension of the name through
these second and third stages, demand has yet been made on
the distinctively human powers of conceptual thought — any
more than such powers were required to carry it through the
first stage in the case of the parrot.

Hence we see again that the distinction already drawn
between denotative and connotative names is not co-extensive
with the distinction between ideas as receptual and conceptual.
Or, in other words, names may be in some measure con-
notative even in the absence of self-consciousness. For if we
say that a child is connoting resemblances when it extends
the name Bow-woiv from a particular dog to dogs in general,
clearly we must say the same thing of a parrot when we find
that thus far it goes with the child. Therefore it is that
I have distinguished between connotation as receptual and
conceptual — i.e. by calling the latter denomination. Recep-
tual connotation represents a higher level of ideational
faculty than mere denotation ; but a lower level than con-
ceptual connotation, or denomination. Moreover, receptual
connotation admits of many degrees before wc can discern
the smallest reason for supposing that it is even in the lowest
degree conceptual. Connotation of all degrees depending on
perceptions of resemblances or analogies, the higher the
receptual life, and therefore the greater the aptitude of
receptual classification, the more will such classification be-
come reflected in connotative expression. Therefore it is that
the child will not only surpass the parrot in its receptual con-
notation from dogs to pictures of dogs; but, as we shall after-
wards see, will go much further even than this before it gives
any signs at all of conceptual connotation, or true denomina-
tion. Thus we see that between the most rudimentary
receptual connotation which a very young child shares with
a parrot, and the fully conceptual connotation which it

1 84 MEXTAL EVOLUriOX IX MAX.

subsequently attains, there is a large intervening province
due to the acquisition of a higher rcceptual life. Or, to put
the same thing in other words, there is a large tract of idea-
tion lying between the highest receptual life of a brute and
the lowest conceptual life of a man : this tract is occupied by
the growing child from the time at which its ideation
surpasses that of the brute, until it begins to attain the
faculty of self-conscious reflection. This intervening tract of
ideation, therefore, may be termed " higher receptual," in
contradistinction to the lower receptual ideation which a
younger child shares with the lower animals.

At this point I must ask the reader carefully to fasten in
his mind these various distinctions. Nor will it be difficult
to do so after a small amount of attention. It will be
remembered that in Chapter IV. I instituted a distinction
between concepts as higher and lower, which was methodically
similar to that which I have now to institute between recepts.
A "lower concept" was defined to be nothing more than a
"named recept," * while a "higher concept" was understood
to be one that is " compounded of other concepts " — i.e. the
named result of a grouping of concepts, as when we speak of
the " mechanical equivalent of heat." So that altogether we
have four stages of ideation to recognize, each of which
occupies an immensely large territory of mind. These four
stages I will present in serial order.

(i) Lower Recepts^ comprising the mental life of all the
lower animals, and so including such powers of receptual
connotation as a child when first emerging from infancy
shares with a parrot.

(2) Higher Recepts, comprising all the extensive tract of
ideation that belongs to a child between the time when its
powers of receptual connotation first surpass those of a parrot,

* Or, as we may now more closely define it, a denominated recept. A merely
denolated recept (such as a parrot's name for its recept of dog) is not 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 Jt'.^y-conscious.

SPEECH. 185

up to the age at which connotation as merely denotative
begins to become also denominative.

(3) Lower Concepts, comprising the province of con-
ceptual ideation where this first emerges from the higher
receptual, up to the point where denominative connotation
has to do, not merely with the naming of recepts, but also
with that of associated concepts.

(4) Higher Concepts, comprising all the further ex-
cellencies of human thought.

Higher Recepts, then, are what may be conveniently
termed Pre-concepts : * they occupy the interval between the
receptual life of brute and the earliest dawn of the conceptual life
of man. A pre-concept, therefore, is that kind of higher recept
which is not to be met with in any brute ; but which occurs
in the human being after surpassing the brute and before attain-
ing self-consciousness. Be it observed that in thus coining the
words higher recepts or pre-concepts, I am not in any way pre-
judicing the case of my opponents ; I am merely marking off a
certain territory of ideation which has now for the first time
been indicated. Of course my object eventually is to show that
in the history of a growing child, just as sensations give rise
to percepts, and percepts to recepts (as they do among
animals), so do recepts give rise to pre-concepts, pre-concepts
to concepts, concepts to propositions, and propositions to
syllogisms. But in now supplying this intermediate link of
pre-concepts I am not in any way prc-judging the issue : I
am merely marking out the ground for discussion. No one
of my opponents can dispute my facts, which are too obvious
to admit of question. Therefore, if they object to my classifi-
cation of them so far as the novel division of pre-concepts is
concerned, it must be because they think that by instituting
this division I am surreptitiously bringing the mind of a child
nearer to that of an animal than they deem altogether safe.
What, then, I ask, would they have me do.' If I fail to

* 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 psycholo-
gists.

I 86 MENTAL EVOLUriOX IN MAN.

institute this division, I should have to prejudice the question
indeed. Either there is some distinction between the naming
powers of a parrot and those of a young child, or else there is
not. If there is no distinction, so much the better for the
purposes of my argument. But I allow that there is a
distinction, and I draw it at the first place where it can
possibly be said that the intelligence of a child differs in any
way at all from that of a parrot — i.e. where the naming
powers of a child demonstrably excel those of a parrot, or
any other brute. If this place happens to be before the rise
of conceptual powers, I am not responsible for the fact ; nor
in stating it am I at all disparaging the position of any
opponent who takes his stand upon these powers as distinctive
of man. If his position were worth anything before, it
cannot be affected by my drawing attention to the fact that,
while a parrot will extend its denotative name of a dog from
a terrier to a setter, it will not follow a child any further in
the process of receptual connotation.

Or, to put it in another way, when the child says Bozv-iuow
to a setter, after having learnt this name for a terrier, it is
either judging a resemblance and predicating a fact, or else
it is doing neither of these things. If my opponents elect to
say that the child is doing both these things, there is an end
of the only issue between us ; for in that case a parrot also is
able both to judge and to predicate. On the other hand, if
my opponents adopt the wiser course, and accept my dis-
tinction between names as receptual and conceptual, they
must also follow me in recognizing the border-land of pre-
concepts as lying betw^een the recepts of a bird and the
concepts of a man — i.e. the territory which is first occupied
by the higher receptual life of a child before this passes into
the conceptual life of a man, — for that such a border-land
does exist I will prove still more incontestably later on. There
is, then, as a matter of observable fact, a territory of ideation
which separates the highest recepts of a brute from the lowest
concepts of a human being ; and all that my term pre-concep-
tion is designed to do is to name this intervening territory.

SPEECH. 187

Now, if this is the case with regard to naming, clearly it must
also be the case with regard to judging : if there is a stage of
pre-conception, there must also be a stage of pre-judgment.
For we have seen that it is of the essence of a judgment that it
should be concerned with concepts : if the mind be concerned
merely with recepts, no act of true judgment can be said to
have been performed. When a child says Bozv-wow to the
picture of a dog, no one can maintain that he is actually
judging the resemblance of the picture to a dog, unless it be
supposed that for this act of receptual classification dis-
tinctively human powers of conceptual thought are required.
But, as just shown, no opponent of mine can afford to adopt
this supposition, because behind the case of the child there
stands that of the parrot. True, the parrot does not proceed
in its receptual classification further than to extend its name
for a particular dog to other living dogs ; but if any one were
foolish enough to stake his whole argument on so slender a
distinction as this — to maintain that at the place where the
connotation of a child first surpasses that of a parrot we have
evidence of a psychological distinction of kind, on the sole
ground that the child has begun to surpass the parrot — it would
be enough for me to remark that not every parrot will thus
extend its denotative sign from one dog to another of greatly
unlike appearance. Different birds display different degrees
of intelligence in this respect. Most of them will say Boiv-
wow, will bark, or utter any other denotative sign which they
may have learnt or invented, when they see dogs more or
less resembling the one to which the denotative sign was
originally applied ; but it is not every parrot which will thus
extend the sign from a terrier to a mastiff or a Newfoundland.
Therefore, if any one were to maintain that the difference
between the intelligence which can discern, and one which
cannot discern, the likeness of a dog in the image or the
picture of a dog, is a difference of kind, consistency should
lead him to draw a similar distinction between the intelligence
which can discern, and one which cannot discern, the likeness
of a terrier to a mastiff. But, if so, the intelligence of one

1 88 JMEXTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX.

parrot would be different in kind from that of another parrot ;
and the child's intelhgence at one age would differ in kind
from the intelligence of that same child when a week or two
older — both of which statements would be manifestly absurd.
The truth can only be that up to the point where the intelli-
gence of the child surpasses that of the bird they are both in
the receptual stage of sign-making ; and that the only reason
why the child does surpass the bird is not, in the first
instance, because the child there suddenly attains the power
of conceptual ideation, but because it gradually attains a
higher level of receptual ideation. This admits of direct
proof from the fact that animals more intelligent than parrots
are unquestionably able to recognize sculptured and even
pictorial representations : hence there can be no doubt that
if talking birds had attained a similar level of intelligence —
or if the other and more intelligent animals had been able,
like the talking birds, to use denotative signs, — the child
would not have parted company with the brute at quite so
early a stage of receptual nomenclature.*

* Touching the power of recognizing pictorial representations among animals,
this unquestionably occurs in dogs (see Ani»ial 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 {Coriniis) 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, X'af. 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. More-
over, always after that day when asked in that room, " Where's papa?" he used at
once to look up and point at the portrait. Another child of my own, which had not
seen this portrait till she was sixteen months old, immediately recognized it at first
sight, as was proved by her pointing to it and calling it "Papa." Two months
later I observed 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, gmnting for the pigs, &c.,
these sundry sounds having been taught her as name- by the nurse. She never

SPEECH. 1 89

What, then, are we to say about the faculty of judgment
in relation to these three stages of ideation — namely, the
receptual, pre-conceptual, and conceptual ? We can only
institute the parallel and consequent distinction between
judgment as receptual, pre-conceptual, and conceptual* As
now so often stated, the distinguishing features of a judgment
as fully displayed in any act of formal predication, are the
bringing together in self-conscious thought of two concepts,
and the distinguishing of some relation between them as such.
Therefore we do not say that a brute judges when, without
any self-conscious thought, it brings together certain remini-
scences of its past experience in the form of recepts, and
translates for us the results of its ideation by the performance
of what Mr. Mivart calls " practical inferences." Therefore,
also, if a brute which is able to name each of two recepts
separately (as is done by a talking bird), were to name the
two recepts simultaneously when thus combined in an act of
" practical inference," although there would then be the out-
ward semblance of a proposition, we should not be strictly
right in calling it a proposition. It would, indeed, be the
statement of a truth perceived; but not the statement of a
truth perceived as true.\

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 spread-
ing out a number of photographic portraits, and asking him " Which is mamma ?
Which is papa?" &c. Without any hesitation he indicated them all correctly.

• By using the word "judgment " in all these cases I am in no way prejudicing
the argument of my opponents. The explanation which immediately follows in
the text is sufficient to show that the qualifying terms "receptual" and "prc-
conceptuar' eflectually guard against any abuse of the term — quite as much, for
instance, as when psychologists speak of "perceptual judgments," or "uncon-
scious judgments," or " intuitive judgments," in connection with still lower levels
of mental operation. And it seems to me better thus to qualify an existing term
than to add to the already large number of words I have found it necessary to coin.

t I may here remark that this possibility of receptual predication on the part

Ic;o MEXTAL EVOLUTION IX MAX.

Now, if all this be admitted in the case of a brute — as it
must be by any one who takes his stand on the faculty of
true or conceptual judgment, — obviously it must also be
admitted in the case of the growing child. In other words,
if it can be proved that a child is able to state a truth before
it can state a truth as true, it is thereby proved that in the
psychological history of every human being there is first
the incompleted kind of judgment required for dealing with
receptual knowledge, and so for stating truths perceived, and
next the completed judgment, which deals with conceptual
knowledge, and so is enabled to state truths perceived as true.
Of course the condition to the raising of this lower kind of
judgment (if for convenience we agree so to term it) into the
higher, is given by the advent of self-consciousness; and
therefore the place where statement of truth passes into
predication of truth must be determined by the place at which
this kind of consciousness first supervenes. Where it does
first supervene we shall presently have to consider. Mean-
while I am but endeavouring to make clear the fact that,
unless my opponents abandon their position altogether, they
must allow that there is some difference to be recognized
between the connotative powers of a parrot and the connota-
tive powers of a man. But if they do allow this, they must
further allow that between the place where the connotative
powers of a child first surpass those of a parrot, and the place
where those powers first become truly conceptual, there is a
large tract of ideation which it is impossible to ignore. In
order, therefore, not to prejudice the question before us, I have

of talking birds is not entirely hypothetical : I have some evidence that it may be
actually realized. 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 litile better ; ' and when she asked him if he had not been very ill, he said,
' Cockie better; Cockie ever so much better.' . . , \Mien 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,''^

SPEECIL 191

thus far confined myself to a mere designation of these great
and obvious distinctions. But seeing that even this prelimi-
nary step has necessitated a great deal of explanation, I feel
it may conduce to clearness if I end the present chapter with
a tabular statement of the sundry distinctions in question,

'By receptual Jiidgniejits I will understand the same order
of ideation as Mr. IMivart expresses by his term " practical
inferences of brutes," instances of which have already been
given in Chapter III.

By pre-conceptiial judgments I will understand those acts
of virtual or rudimentary judgment which are performed by
children subsequent to the " practical inferences " which they
share with brutes, but prior to the advent of self-conscious
reflection. These pre-conceptual judgments may be expressed
either by gestures, connotative classifications, or by both com-
bined. Some instances of them have already been given in
the present chapter : further and better instances will be given
in the chapters which are to follow.

By conceptual Judgments I will understand full and complete
judgments in the ordinary acceptation of this term.

Receptual judgment, then, has to do with recepts ; pre-con-
ceptual judgment with pre-concepts ; and true judgments
with true concepts. Or, conversely stated, receptual know-
ledge leads to receptual judgment {e.g. when a sea-bird dives
into water but alights upon land) : pre-conceptual knowledge
leads to pre-conceptual judgment in the statement of such
knowledge {eg. when a child, by extending the name of a
dog to the picture of a dog, virtually affirms, though it docs
not conceive, the resemblance which it perceives) : and, lastly,
conceptual knowledge leads to conceptual or veritable judg-
ment, in the statement of such knowledge known as knowledge
{e.g. when, in virtue of his powers of reflective thought, a man
not only states a truth, but states that truth as true).

Thus far I doubt whether my opponents will find it easy
to meet me. They may, of course, cavil at some or all of the
above distinctions ; but, if so, it is for them to show cause for

192 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

complaint. They have raised objections to the theory of
evolution on purely psychological grounds. I meet their
objections upon these their own grounds, and therefore the
only way in which they can answer me is by showing that
there is something wrong in my psychological analysis. This
I fearlessly invite them to do. For all the distinctions which
I have made I have made out of consideration to the
exigencies of their argument. Although these distinctions
may appear somewhat bewilderingly numerous, I do not
anticipate that any competent psychologist will complain of
them on account of their having been over-finely drawn. For
each of them marks off an important territory of ideation, and
all the territories so marked off must be separately noted, if the
alleged distinction of kind between one and another is to be
seriously investigated. In his essays upon the theory of
evolution, Mr. Mivart not unfrequently complains of the dis-
regard of psychological analysis which is betokened by any
expression of opinion to the effect, that as between one
great territory of ideation and another there is only a
difference of degree. But surely this complaint comes with
an ill grace from a writer who bases an opposite opinion upon
a precisely similar neglect — or upon a bare statement of the
greatest and most obvious of all the distinctions in psychology,
without so much as any attempt to analyze it. Therefore, if
my own attempt to do this has erred on the side of over-
elaboration, it has done so only on account of my desire to do
full justice to the opposite side. In the result, I claim to have
shown that if it is possible to suggest a difference of kind
between any of the levels of ideation which have now been
defined, this can only be done at the last of them — or where
the advent of self-consciousness enables a mind, not only
to knozi\ but to knoiv that it knozvs ; not only to receive
knowledge, but also to conceive it ; not only to connotate, but
also to denominate ; not only to state a truth, but also to state
that truth as true. The question, therefore, which now lies
before us is that as to the nature of this self-consciousness —
or, more accurately, whether the great and peculiar distinction

SPEECH. 193

which this attribute confers upon the human intellect is to be
regarded as a distinction of degree only, or as a distinction of
kind. To answer this question we must first investigate the
rise of self-consciousness in the only place where its rise can
be observed, namely, in the psychogenesis of a child.*

* Lest there should still be any ambiguity about the numerous terms which
I have found it necessary to coin, I will here supply a table of definitions.

Lower recept = an automatic grouping of percepts.

Higher recept = pre-concept ; or a degree of receptual ideation which does not

occur in any brute.
Lower concept = named recept, provided that the naming be due to reflective

thought.
Higher concept = a named compound of concepts.

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

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

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

Receptual judgment = automatic, " practical," or unthinking inference.

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.

194 MEXTAL EVOLUTION IS MAN.

CHAPTER X.

SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS.

My contention in this chapter will be that, given the proto-
plasm of the sign-making faculty so far organized as to have
reached the denotative stage ; and given also the protoplasm
of judgment so far organized as to have reached the stage of
stating a truth, without the mind being yet sufficiently
developed to be conscious of itself as an object of thought,
and therefore not yet able to state to itself a truth as true ; by
a confluence of these two protoplasmic elements an act of
fertilization is performed, such that the subsequent processes
of mental organization proceed apace, and soon reach the
stage of differentiation between subject and object.

And here, to avoid misapprehension, I may as well make
it clear at the outset that in all which is to follow I am in no
way concerned with the philosophy of this change, but only
with its history. On the side of its philosophy no one can
have a deeper respect for the problem of self-consciousness
than I have ; for no one can be more profoundly convinced
than I am that the problem on this side does not admit of
solution. In other words, so far as this aspect of the matter
is concerned, I am in complete agreement with the most
advanced idealist ; and hold that in the datum, of self-
consciousness we each of us possess, not merely our only
ultimate knowledge, or that which only is " real in its own
right," but likewise the mode of existence which alone the
human mind is capable of conceiving as existence, and there-
fore the conditio sine qnd non to the possibility of an external

SELF-COXSCIOUSNESS. 1 95

world. With this aspect of the question, however, I am in no
way concerned. Just as the functions of an embryologist
are confined to tracing the mere history of developmental
changes of Hving structure, and just as he is thus as far as
ever from throwing any hght upon the deeper questions of the
how and the why of life ; so in seeking to indicate the steps
whereby self-consciousness has arisen from the lower stages
of mental structure, I am as far as any one can be from
throwing light upon the intrinsic nature of that the probable
genesis of which I am endeavouring to trace. It is no less
true to-day than it was in the time of Soloman, that "as thou
knowest not how the bones do grow in the womb of her that
is with child, thou knowest not what is the way of the
spirit."

If we are agreed that it is only in man that self-conscious-
ness is to be found at all, it follows that only to man can we
look for any facts bearing upon the question of its development.
And inasmuch as it is only during the first years of infancy
that a normal human being is destitute of self-consciousness,
the statement just made implies that only in infant psycho-
logy need we seek for the facts of which we are in search.
Further, as I maintain that self-consciousness arises out of an
admixture of the protoplasm of judgment with the proto-
plasm of sign-making (according to the signification of these
terms as already explained), I have now to make good this
opinion upon the basis of facts drawn from the study of
infant psychology.

Nevertheless, before I proceed to the heart of the subject,
I think it will be convenient to consider those faculties of
mind which, occurring both in the infant and in the animal, in
the former case precede the advent of self-consciousness, and,
according to my view, prepare the way for it.

It will, I suppose, on all hands be admitted that sclf-
consciousncss consists in paying the same kind of attention
to internal or psychical processes as is habitually paid to
external or physical processes — a bringing to bear upon

iqG mental evolutiox i\ max.

subjective phenomena the same powers of perception as are
brought to bear upon the objective. The degrees in which
such attention may be yielded are, of course, as various in
the one case as in the other ; but this does not affect my
psychological definition of self-consciousness.

Again, I suppose it will be further admitted that in the
mind of animals and in the mind of infants there is a world
of images standing as signs of outward objects ; and that
the only reason why these images are not attended to unless
called up by the sensuous associations supplied by their corre-
sponding objects, is because the mind is not yet able to leave
the ground of such association, so as to move through the higher
and more tenuous medium of introspective thought.* Neverthe-
less, this image world assuredly displays an internal activity
which is not wholly dependent on sensuous associations
supplied from without. That is to say, one image suggests
another, this another, and so on — although, as I have just con-
ceded, this cannot be due to successive acts of inward attention,
or of the self-conscious contemplation of images known as such.
Nevertheless, that an internal — though unintentional — play of
ideation takes place in the minds of brutes, without the
necessity of immediate associations supplied from present
objects of sense, admits of being amply proved from the
phenomena of dreaming, hallucination, home-sickness, pining
for absent friends, &c., which, as I have fully shown in my
previous work, can only be explained by recognizing such a
play of inward ideation.f Now, I hold it of importance to
note that such an internal play of ideation is thus possible
even in the absence of self-consciousness, because many
writers have assumed, without any justification, that unless
ideas are intentionally contemplated as such, they must be
wholly dependent for their occurrence upon associations
supplied by present objects of sense. Of course I do not
doubt that an agent who is capable of intentionally making
one idea stand as the object of another, is likewise capable of

* See above, Chapters II. and IV.

t See Mental Evohitmi in Animals, chapter on " Imagination."

S£LF-coxsc/orsxi:ss. 197

going very much further than a brute in the way of causing
one idea to start from another irrespective of immediate
stimulation from without. ]\Iy point here is merely to
remark that the ideation of brutes is not wholly dependent
on such stimulation ; but is capable, in a certain humble
degree, of forming independent chains of its own.

The next thing which I desire to be remembered in
connection with the ideation of brutes is, that it is not
restricted to the mere reproduction in memory of particular
objects of sensuous impressions ; but, as we have so fully seen
in Chapter III., admits of undergoing that amount of mental
elaboration which belongs to what I have termed recepts.

Furthermore, the foundations of self-consciousness are
largely laid in the fact that an organism is one connected
whole ; all the parts are mutually related in the unity
of individual sensibility. Every stimulus supplied from
without, every movement originating from within, carries
with it the character of belonging to that which feels and
moves. Hence a brute, like a young child, has learnt to
distinguish its own members, and likewise its whole body,
from all other objects ; it knows how to avoid sources of
pain, how to seek those of pleasure ; and it also knows that
particular movements follow from particular volitions, while
in connection with such movements it constantly experiences
the same muscular sensations. Of course such knowledge
and such experience all belong to the receptual order ; but
this does not hinder that they play a most important part in
laying the foundations of a consciousness of individuality.*

Lastly, and I believe of still more importance in the
present connection than any of the above-named antecedents,
a large proportional number of the recepts of a brute have
reference, not to objects of sense, or even to muscular
sensations, but to the mental states of other animals. That is

* In the opinion of Wundt, the most important of all conditions to the genesis
of self-consciousness is given by the muscular sense in acts of voluntary movement
( Vorlesungen iiber die Menschen und Thierseele, i8 vorl.). While agreeing with him
that this is a highly important condition, I think the others above mentioned arc
quite as much, or even more so.

1 98 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX.

to say, the logic of rccepts, even in brutes, is sufficient to
enable the mind to establish true analogies between its own
states (although these are not yet the objects of separate
attention, or of what may be termed subjective knowledge),
and the corresponding states of other minds. I need not
dwell upon this point, because I take it to be a matter of
general observation that animals habitually and accurately
interpret the mental states of other animals, while they also
well know that other animals are able similarly to interpret
theirs — as is best proved by their practising the arts of
cunning, concealment, hypocrisy, &c.* From which con-
siderations we reach the general conclusion, that intelligent
animals recognize a world of ejects as well as a world of
objects : mental existence is known to them cjectively,
though, as may be allowed, never thought upon subjectively. t
It is of importance further to observe that at this stage of
mental evolution the individual — whether an animal or an
infant — so far realizes its own individuality as to be informed
by the logic of recepts that it is one of a kind. I do not
mean that at this stage the individual realizes its own or any
other individuality as such ; but merely that it recognizes the
fact of its being one among a number of similar though
distinct forms of life. Alike in conflict, rivalry, sense of

* See for cases of this, Animal Intelligence, pp. 410, 443, 444, 450-452, 458,

494-

t 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
Hiimati Speci^Sj'i^'p. 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, ver}' 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 \\ould 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."

SELF- CO NSC 10 USX ESS. 1 99

liability to punishment or vengeance, &c., the truth is
continually being borne in upon the mind of an animal that
it is a separate individuality ; and this though it be conceded
that the animal is never able, even in the most shadowy
manner, to think about itself as such. In this way there
arises a sort of "outward self-consciousness," which differs
from true or inward self-consciousness only in the absence of
any attention being directed upon the inward mental states
as such. This outward self-consciousness is known to us all,
even in adult life — it being but comparatively seldom that
we pause in our daily activities to contemplate the mental
processes of which these activities are the expression.

Now, if these things are so, we encounter the necessity of
drawing the same distinction in our analysis of self-conscious-
ness, as we have had to draw in our previous analyses of all
the other faculties of mind : there is a self-consciousness that
is rcccptual, and a self-consciousness that is conceptual. No
doubt it is to the latter kind of self-consciousness alone that
the term is strictly applicable, just as it is to conceptual
naming or to conceptual predicating alone that the word
"judgment" is strictly applicable. Nevertheless, here, as
before, we must not ignore an important territory of mind only
because it has hitherto remained uncharted.* Receptual or
outward self-consciousness, then, is the practical recognition
of self as an active and a feeling agent ; while conceptual or
inward self-consciousness is the introspective recognition of

* Not, however, wholly so. Mr. Chauncey 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 J\fan,
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.

200 MEXTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

self as an object of knowledge, and, therefore, as a subject.
Hence, the one form of self-consciousness differs from the
other in that it is only objective and never subjective.*

I take it, then, as established that true or conceptual
self-consciousness consists in paying the same kind of
attention to inward psychical processes as is habitually paid to
outward physical processes ; that in the mind of animals and
infants there is a world of images standing as signs of
outward objects, although we may concede that for the most
part they only admit of being revived by sensuous associa-
tion ; that at this stage of mental evolution the logic of
recepts comprises an ejcctive as well as an objective world ;
and that here we also have the recognition of individuality,
so far as this is dependent on what has been termed an
outward self-consciousness, or the consciousness of self as a
feeling and an active agent, without the consciousness of self
as an object of thought, and, therefore, as a subject.

Such being the mental conditions precedent to the rise of
true self-consciousness, we may next turn to the growing
child for evidence of subsequent stages in the gradual
evolution of this faculty. All observers are agreed that for
a considerable time after a child is able to use words as
expressive of ideas, there is no vestige of true self-conscious-
ness. But, to begin our survey before this period, at a year
old even its own organism is not known to the child as part
of the self, or, more correctly, as anything specially related to
feelings. Professor Preyer observed that his boy, when more
than a year old, bit his own arm just as though it had been a
foreign object ; and thus may be said to have shown even

* In the present connection the following very pregnant sentence may be
appropriately quoted from Wundt : — " Wenn wir iiberall auf die Empfindung als
Ausgangspunkt der ganzen Entwicklungsreihe hingewiesen werden, so miissni
auch die Anfange jener Unterscheidung des Ichs von den Gegenstanden schon in
den Empfindungen gelegen sein " ( Vorlesungcn iiber die Mejtsc/iefi und IJiioseele,
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
knowledj-e of these ideas as such.

SELF-COXSCIOUSXESS. 201

less consciousness of a limb as belonging to "self,'' than did
Buffon's parrot, which would first ask itself for its own claw,
and then comply with the request by placing the claw in its
own beak — in the same way as it would give the claw to any
one else who asked for it in the same words.

Later on, when the outward self-consciousness already
explained has begun to be developed, we find that the child, like
the animal, has learnt to associate its own organism with its
own mental states, in such wise that it recognizes its body as
belonging in a peculiar manner to the self, so far as the self is
recognizable by the logic of recepts. This is the stage that we
meet with in animals. Next the child begins to talk, and, as
we might expect, this first translation of the logic of recepts
rev^eals the fact that as yet there is no inward self-conscious-
ness, but only outward : as yet the child has paid no attention
to his own mental states, further than to feel that he feels
them ; and in the result we find that the child speaks to him-
self as an object, i.e. by his proper name or in the third person.
That is to say, " the child does not as yet set himself in oppo-
sition to all outer objects, including all other persons, but
regards himself as one among many objects."* The change
of a child's phraseology from speaking of self as an object to
speaking of self as a subject does not take place — or but
rarely so — till the third year. When it has taken place we
have definite evidence of true self-consciousness, though still
in a rudimentary stage. And it is doubtful whether this
change would take place even at so early an age as the third
year, were it not promoted by the "social environment." For,
as Mr. Sully observes, " the relation of self and not self, in-

* Sully, loc. ciL, p. 376. See also Wundt, loc. cit., i. 2S9. 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 sul)jcct. 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) arc heard
to do.

202 MEXTAL EVOLUTIOX 7.V MAX.

eluding that between the I and the You, is continually being
pressed on the child's attention by the language of others." *
But, taking this great change during the time of life when it
is actually observed to be in progress, let us endeavour to
trace the phases of its development.

It will no doubt be on all hands freely conceded, that at
least up to the time when a child begins to speak it has no
beginning of any true or introspective consciousness of self;
and it will further be conceded that when this consciousness
begins to dawn, the use of language by a child may be taken
as a fair exponent of all its subsequent progress. Now we
have already seen that, long before any words are used indica-
tive of even a dawning consciousness of self as self, the child
has already advanced so far in its use of language as to frame
implicit propositions. But lest it should be thought that my
judgment in this matter is biased by the exigencies of my
argument, I may again quote Mr. Sully as at once an impartial
witness and a highly competent authority on matters of purely
psychological doctrine.

" When a child of eighteen months on seeing a dog ex-
claims ' Bow-wow,' or on taking his food exclaims ' Ot ' (Hot),
or on letting fall his toy says ' Dow ' (Down), he may be said
to be implicitly framing a judgment : ' That is a dog,* ' This
milk is hot,' ' My plaything is down.' The first explicit judg-
ments are concerned with individual objects. The child notes
something unexpected or surprising in an object, and ex-
presses the result of his observation in a judgment. Thus, for
example, the boy more than once referred to, whom we will
call C, was first observed to form a distinct judgment when
nineteen months old, by saying ' Dit ki ' (Sister is crying).
These first judgments have to do mainly with the child's food,
or other things of prime importance to him. Thus, among
the earliest attempts at combining words in propositions made
by C. already referred to, were the following : ' Ka in milk,'
(Something nasty in milk) ; ' Milk dare now' (There is still
some more milk in the cup). Towards the end of the second

* Loc. cit., p. 377-

SELF-COXSCIOUSXESS. 203

year quite a number of judgments is given out having to do
with the peculiarities of objects which surprise or impress the
mind, their altered position in space, &c. Among these may
be instanced the following : ' Dat a big bow-wow ' (That is a
large dog) ; ' Dit naughty ' (Sister is naughty) ; ' Bit dow
ga ' (sister is down on the grass). As the observing powers
grow, and the child's interest in things widens, the number
of his judgments increases. And as his powers of detaching
relations and of uttering and combining words develop, he
ventures on more elaborate statements, e.g. ' Mama naughty
say dat.' " *

Were it necessary, I could confirm all these statements
from my own notes on the development of children's intelli-
gence ; but I prefer, for the reason already given, to quote
such facts from an impartial witness. For I conceive that
they are facts of the highest importance in relation to our
present subject, as I shall immediately proceed to show.

We. have now before us unquestionable evidence that in
the growing child there is a power, not only of forming, but of
expressing a pre-conceptual judgm^ent, long before there is
any evidence of the child presenting the faintest rudiment of
internal, conceptual, or true self-consciousness. In other words,
it must be admitted that long before a human mind is suffi-
ciently developed to perceive relations as related, or to state
a truth as true, it is able to perceive relations and to state a
truth : the logic of recepts is here concerned with those higher
receptual judgments which I have called pre-conceptual, and
is able to express such judgments in verbal signs without the
intervention of true {i.e. introspective) self-consciousness. It
will be remembered that I have coined these various terms in
order to acknowledge the possible objection that there can be
no true judgments without true self-consciousness. But I do
not care what terms are employed whereby to designate the
different and successive phases of development which I am
now endeavouring to display. All that I desire to make clear
is that here we unquestionably have to do with a gioiu//i, or

♦ Lvc. cii., pp. 435, 436.

204 iVEXTAL EVOLUriOX IX MAX.

with a continuous advance in decree as distin<juishcd from a
difference of kind.

First, then, let it be observed that in these rudimentary-
judgments we already have a considerable advance upon those
which we have considered as occurring in animals. For in a
child between the second and third years wc have these
rudimentary judgments, not only formed by the logic of
reccpts, but expressed by a logic of pre-concepts in a manner
wliich is indistinguishable from predication, except by the
absence of self-consciousness. " Dit dow ga " is a proposition
in every respect, save in the absence of the copula ; which, as
I have previously shown, is a matter of no psychological
moment. The child here perceives a certain fact, and states
the perception in words, in oi'der to communicate information
of the fact to other minds — just as an animal, under similar
circumstances, will use a gesture or a vocal sign ; but the
child is no more able than the animal designedly to make to
its own mind the statement which it makes to another.
Nevertheless, as the child has now at its disposal a much
more efificient system of sign-making than has the animal,
and moreover enjoys the double advantage of inheriting a
strong propensity to communicate perceptions by signs, and
of being surrounded by the medium of speech ; we can
scarcely wonder that its practical judgments (although still
unattended by self-consciousness) should be more habitually
cx{:>i-essed by signs than are the practical judgments of
animals. Nor need we wonder, in view of the same consider-
ations, that the predicative phrases as used by a child at this
age show the great advance upon similar phrases as used by
a parrot, in that subjects and predicates are no longer bound
together in particular phrases — or, to revert to a previous
simile, are no longer stereotyped in such particular phrases,
but admit of being used as movable types, in order to
construct, by different combinations, a variety of different
phrases. To a talking bird a phrase, as we have seen, is no
more in point of signification than a single word ; while to
the child, at the stage which we are considering, it is very

SELF-COXSCIOL'SXESS. 205

much more than this : it is the separately constructed vehicle
for the conveyance of a particular meaning, which may never
have been conveyed by that or by any other phrase before.
But while we thus attach due importance to so great an
advance towards the faculty of true predication, we must
notice, on the one hand, that as yet it is not true predication
in the sense of being the expression of a true or conceptual
judgment ; and, on the other hand, we must notice that the
power of thus using words as movable types does not deserve
to be regarded as any wonderful or unaccountable advance in
the faculty of sign-m.aking, when we pay due regard to the
several considerations above stated. The really important
point to notice is that, notwithstanding this great advance
towards the faculty of predication, this faculty has not yet
been readied: the propositions which are made are still
unattended by self-consciousness : they are not conceptual,
but pre-conceptual.

Given, then, this stage of mental evolution, and what
follows ? Be it remembered I am not endeavouring to solve
the impossible problem as to the intrinsic nature of self-
consciousness, or how it is that such a thing is possible. I
am merely accepting its existence (and therefore its pos-
sibility) as a fact ; and upon the basis of this fact I shall now
endea\'our to show how, in my opinion, self-consciousness
may be seen to foHow upon the stage of mental evolution
which we have here reached.

The child, like the animal, is supplied by its logic of
recepts with a world of images, standing as signs of outward
objects ; with an ejective knowledge of other minds ; and
with that kind of recognition of self as an active, suffer-
ing and accountable agent which, following Mr. Chauncey
Wright, I have called "outward self-consciousness." But, over
and above the animal, the child has at its command, as we
have just seen, the more improved machinery of sign-making
which enables it to signify to other minds (ejectively known)
the contents of its reccptual knowledge. Now, among these

206 MEXTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX.

contents is the child's perception of the mental states of
others as expressed in their gestures, tones, and words.
These severally receive their appropriate names, and so gain
clearness and precision as ejective images of the correspond-
ing states experienced by the child itself "Mama pleased
to Dodo" would have no meaning as spoken by a child,
unless the child knew from his own feelings what is the state
of mind which he thus ejectively attributes to another.
Therefore we cannot be surprised to find that at the same
stage of mental evolution the child will say, "Dodo pleased to
mama." Yet it is evident that we here approach the very
borders of true self-consciousness. "Dodo" is no doubt still
speaking of himself in objective terminology ; but he has
advanced so far in the interpretation of his own states of
mind as to name them no less clearly than he names any
external objects of sense perception. Thus he is enabled to
fix these states before his mental vision as things which admit
of being denoted by verbal signs, albeit he is not yet able to
denominate.

The step from this to recognizing " Dodo " as not only the
object, but also the subject of mental changes, is not a large
step. The mere act of attaching verbal signs to inward
mental states has the effect of focussing attention upon
those states ; and, when attention is thus focussed habitually,
there is supplied the only further condition required to enable
the mind, through its memory of previous states, to compare
its past with its present, and so to reach that apprehension
of continuity among its own states wherein the full intro-
spective consciousness of self consists.

Again, as Mr. Chauncey Wright observes, "voluntary
memory, or reminiscence, is especially aided by command of
language. This is a tentative process, essentially similar to
that of a search for a lost or missing external object. Trials
are made in it to revive a missing mental image, or train of
images, by means of words ; and, on the other hand, to revive
a missing name by means of mental images, or even by other
words. It is not certain that this power is an exclusively

SELF-COXSCIOL'SX£SS. 20/

human one, as is generally believed, except in respect to the
high degree of proficiency attained by men in its use. It does
not appear impossible that an intelligent dog may be aided by
its attention, purposely directed to spontaneous necessaries,
in recalling a missing fact, such as the locality of a buried
bone." *

But whether or not animals possess any power of
recollection as distinguished from memory, there can be no
doubt that the use of words as signs necessarily leads to the
cultivation of this faculty, and so to the clear perception of a
continuance of internal or mental states in which consists the
consciousness of an abiding self.

Further, the acquisition of language greatly advances the
conception of self, both as a suffering or feeling agent, and as
an active cause ; seeing that both the feelings and the actions
of the self are placed clearly before the mind by means of
denotative names, and even, as we have just seen, by pre-con-
ceptual propositions. Doubtless, also, the recognition of self
in each of these capacities is largely assisted by the emotions.
The expressions of affection, sympathy, praise, blame, &c., on
the part of others, and the feelings of emulation, pride,
triumph, disappointment, &c., on the part of the self, must
all tend forcibly to impress upon the growing child a sense
of personality. "It is when the child's attention is driven
inwards in an act of reflection on his own actions, as
springing from good or bad motives, that he wakes up to a
fuller consciousness of himself." f

The conspiring together of all these factors leads to the
gradual attainment of self-consciousness. I say "gradual,"
because the process is throughout of the nature of a growth.

* Philosophical Discussions, p. 256. See also Animal hitelligence, pp. 269, 270,
for the case of a parrot apijarently 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. Alorphol., i., p. 383-419), Mr. and Mrs. Peckham
have recently found that the memory of eggs which have been withdrawn from llie
mother is retained Vjy her for a period varying in different species from less than
one to more than two days.

t .Sully, loc. cit., p. 377.

208 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX.

Nevertheless, there is some reason to think that when this
growth has attained a certain point, it makes, so to speak, a
sudden leap of progress, which may be taken to bear the same
relation to the development of the mind as the act of birth
docs to that of the body. In neither case is the development
anything like completed. Midway between the slowly
evolving phases in utcro and the slowly evolving phases of
after-growth, there is in the case of the human body a great and
sudden change at the moment when it first becomes separated
from that of its parent. And so, there is some reason to
believe, it is in the case of the human mind. Midway between
the gradual evolution of receptual ideation and the no less
gradual evolution of conceptual, there appears to be a critical
moment when the soul first becomes detached from the
nutrient body of its parent perceptions, and wakes up in the
new world of a consciously individual existence. " Die
Schlussprozesse, durch welche jene Trennung des Ich von
der Aussenwelt vor sich geht, geschehen allmalig. Es isteine
langsame Arbeit, durch die sich die Scheidung bewerkstelligt.
Doch diese Scheidung selber ist stets eine plotzliche That : es
ist ein bestimmter Moment, in welchem das Ich mit einem Mai
mit voller Klarheit in der Seele aufblitzt, und es ist derselbe
Moment, in welchem das bewusste Gediichtniss beginnt,
Sehr haufig ist es daher, dass gerade diesses erste blitzahn-
liche Aufleuchten des Selbstbewusstseins bis in spate Jahre
noch als dcutliche Erinnerung zuriickbleibt." *

Of course the evidence upon this point must always be
more or less unsatisfactory — first, because the powers of
introspective analysis at the particular time when they first
become nascent must be most incompetent to report upon
the circumstances of their own birth ; and next, because we
know how precarious it is to rely on adult reminiscences

* 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.

SELF-CONSCIOUSXESS. 209

of childhood's experience. Therefore, I have only men-
tioned this evidence for what it is worth, in order to remark
that it has no important bearing upon our present subject.
Whether or not there is in the life of every human being
some particular moment between the ages of two and three
when the fact of its own personality is revealed to the
growing mind, the results of the present analysis are in no
way affected. For, even if such were supposed to be
invariably the case, it could not be supposed that the
revelation were other than low and feeble to a degree
commensurate with the still almost infantile condition of all the
other mental powers. Nor could it be doubted that this
revelation needed to be led up to by that gradual process of
receptual evolution with which my analysis has been
concerned, and which in the terms of our previous analogy we
may liken to the pre-natal life of an embryo. While, on the
other hand, as little can it be doubted that such consciousness
of self as is then revealed, requires to be afterwards supple-
mented by another prolonged course of mental evolution in
the conceptual sphere, before those completed faculties of
introspective thought are attained, which serve to difference
the mind of a full-grown man from that of a babbling child
almost as widely as the same interval of time is found to
difference the body of an adult from that of a new-born babe.

In this brief analysis of the principles which are probably
concerned in the evolution of self-consciousness, I should like
to lay particular stress upon the point in it which I do not
think has been sufficiently noticed by previous writers—
namely, the ejective origin of subjective knowledge. The
logic of reccpts furnishes both the infant and the animal with
a marvellously efficient store of ejective information. Indeed,
we can scarcely doubt that to a very considerable extent this
information is hereditary : witness the smile of an infant in
answer to a caressing tone, and its cry in answer to a scolding
one ; not to mention the still more remarkable cases which
we meet with in animals, such as newly-hatched chickens

r

2IO MENTAL EVOLVTICX IX MAW

understanding the different sounds made to them by the hen,
being terror-stricken at the voice of a hawk, newly-born
mammals knowing the voice of their mother, &c.* More-
over, we find that the child, even for a considerable time after
it has begun to use words, manifests a strong tendency to
regard all objects, whether animate or inanimate, as ejects.
This fact is a matter of such general observation that I need
not wait to give special instances. I will, therefore, merely
observe that the tendency is not wholly obliterated even
when the faculty of speech has been fully acquired, and with
it a general knowledge of the distinction between objects as
animate and inanimate. JMr. Sully, for instance, gives a case of
this when he records the saying of a little girl of five — "Ma,
I do think this hoop must be alive ; it is so sensible ; it goes
wherever I want it to."! Again, we meet with the same
tendency in the psychology of uncultured man. Pages might
be filled with illustrations showing that savages all over the
world both mentally and expressly personify, or endow with
psj^chical attributes, the inanimate objects and forces of nature ;
while language, even in its most highly developed forms, still
retains the impress of an originally ejective terminology.
And, if Professor Max Mliller is right in his generaliza-
tion that the personal pronoun " I " is in all languages
traceable to roots equivalent to " This one " (indicative of an
accompanying gesture-sign), we have additional and more
particular evidence of the originally ejective character of the
idea of self Nor is it too much to say that even civilized
man is still under the sway of this innate propensity to
attribute to external things the faculties of feeling and willing
of which he is conscious in himself On the one side we have
proof of this in the universal prevalence of the hypothesis of
psychism in Nature, while on the other side we meet with
further proof in the fact of psychological analysis revealing
that our idea of cause is derived from our idea of muscular effort.

* See JMental 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).

t Outlines of Psychology, p. 378.

SELF- COXSCIO USXESS. 2 1 1

No)v it is evident that in all these cases the tendency
which is shown by the human mind, in every stage of its
development, to regard external phenomena ejectively, arises
from man's intuitive knowledge — or the knowledge which is
given in the logic of recepts — of his own existence as two-
fold, bodily and mental. This in his early days leads him to
regard the Ego as an eject, resembling the others of his kind
by whom he is surrounded. But as soon as the power of
pre-conceptual predication has been attained, the child is in
possession of a psychological instrument wherewith to observe
his own mental states ; and as soon as attention is thus
directed upon them, there arises that which is implied in
every act of such attention — namely, the consciousness of a
self as at once the subject and object of knowledge.

I may remark that this analysis is not opposed, as at first
sight it ma}^ appear to be, to the conclusion with regard to
the same subject which is thus given by Wundt : — " It is
only after the child has distinguished by definite charac-
teristics its own being from that of other people, that it
makes the further advance of perceiving that these other
people are also beings in or for themselves." * In other
words, the attribution of personality to self is prior to the
attribution of personality to others. Now this I do not
question, although I do not think there can be much before
or after in these two concepts. But the point which I have
been endeavouring to bring out is that, prior to either of
these concepts, there are two corresponding recepts — namely,
first the receptual apprehension of self as an agent, and, second,
the eject of this receptual apprehension, whereby " other
people" are recognized as agents. Out of these two recepts
there subsequently develop the corresponding concepts of
personality. The order of development, therefore, is : —

(A) Receptual Subject. (a) Receptual Eject.

(B) Conceptual Subject. (b) Conceptual Eject.

Upon the whole, then, it appears to me perfectly evident

* Vorlesungert, >2r<r., i. 289.

212 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX.

that language is quite as much the antecedent as it is tlie

consequent of self-consciousness. We have seen that in its first

beginnings, or before the child is able to state a truth as true,

what I have called rudimentary or pre-conceptual predication

is concerned only with existence as objective or ejectivc : all

these propositions, which are made by children during the

first two years of their life, have reference to objects of sense,

states of feeling, &c. ; but never to self as self, and therefore

never to truths as true. But as soon as the protoplasm of

predication, or sign-making at this stage of elaboration,

begins to mix freely with the protoplasm of judgment, or the

logic of recepts at that stage of elaboration, an intimate

movement of action and reaction ensues : the judgments are

rendered clearer and more comprehensive by being thrown

into the formal shape of even rudimentary propositions,

while the latter are promoted in their development by the

growing powers of judgment. And when this advancing

organization of faculties has proceeded to the extent of

enabling the mind incipiently to predicate its own states, the

mental organism may be said for the first time to be

quickening into the life of true self-consciousness.*

* 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 Ilhisions, ch. x. ; Taine, On
Intelligence, pt. ii., bk. iii. ; Chauncey Wright, Evolution of Self- consciousness ;
and Waitz, Lehrbuch der Psychologic, 58. On the side of its physiology and
pathology Taine, Maudsley, and Ribot may be referred to {On Intelligence,
Pathology of Alind, 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. 1 19). 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 Ent-
wicklungsprodukt, wie der ganze Mensch ein Entwicklungsprodukt ist" (Wundt).

( 213 )

CHAPTER XI.

THE TRANSITION IN THE INDIVIDUAL.

We are now, I think, in possession of sufficient material to
begin our answer to the question with which we set out —
namely. Is it conceivable that the human mind can have
arisen by way of a natural genesis from the minds of the
higher quadrumana? I maintain that the material now
before us is sufficient to show, not only that this is con-
ceivable, but inevitable.

First of all we must remember that we share in common
with the lower animals not only perceptual, but also what
I have termed receptual life. Thus far, no difference of kind
can be even so much as suggested. The difference then, be
it one of kind or of degree, concerns only those superadded
elements of psychology which are peculiar to man, and which,
following other psychologists, I have termed conceptual. I
say advisedly the elements, because it is by no one disputed
that all differences of conceptual life are differences of degree,
or that from the ideation of a savage to that of a Shakespeare
there is unquestionably a continuous ascent. The only ques-
tion, then, that obtains is as to the relation between the
highest recept of a brute and the lowest concept of a man.

Now, in considering this question we must first remember
to what an extraordinarily high level of adaptive ideation the
purely receptual life of brutes is able to carry them. If we
contrast the ideation of my cebus, which honestly investi-
gated the mechanical principle of a screw, and then applied
his specially acquired knowledge to screws in general — if we
contrast this ideation with that of pakcolithic man, who for

214 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

untold thousands of years made no advance upon the
chipping of flints, we cannot say that, when gauged by the
practical test of efficiency or adaptation, the one appears to
be very much in advance of the other. Or, if we remember
that these same men never hit upon the simple expedient of
attaching a chipped flint to a handle, so as to make a hatchet
out of a chisel,* it cannot be said that in the matter of
mechanical discovery early conceptual life displayed any
great advance upon the high receptual life of my cebus.
Nevertheless, I have allowed — nay insisted — that no matter
how elaborate the structure of receptual knowledge may be,
or how wonderful the adaptive action it may prompt, a
"practical inference" or "receptual judgment" is always
separated from a conceptual inference or true judgment by
the immense distinction that it is not itself an object of
knowledge. No doubt it is a marvellous fact that by means
of receptual knowledge alone a monkey should be able to
di\'ine the mechanical principle of a screiu, and afterwards
apply his discovery to all cases of screws. But even here
there is nothing to show that the monkey ever thought about
the principle as a principle ; indeed, we may rest well assured
that he cannot possibly have done so, seeing that he was not
in possession of the intellectual instruments — and, therefore,
of the antecedent co7iditions — requisite for the purpose. All
that the monkey did was to perceive receptually certain
analogies : but he did not conceive them, or constitute them
objects of thought as analogies. He was, therefore, unable
to predicate the discovery he had made, or to set before his
own mind as knowledge the knowledge which he had gained.
Or, to take another illustration, the bird which saw three
men go into a building, and inferred that one must still have
remained when only two came out, conducted the inference
receptually : the only data she had were those supplied by
differential sense-perceptions. But although these data were

* "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 Uawkins,
Early Alan in Britain, p. 274),

THE TKAXSniOX IN THE IXDIVWUAL. 2]$

sufficient for the purpose of conducting what Mr. Mivart
calls a "practical inference," and so of enabling her to know-
that a man still remained behind, they were clearly not
enough to enable her to know the numerical relations as
relations, or in any way to predicate to herself, 3 — 2—1. In
order to do this, the bird would have required to quit the
region of receptual knowledge, and rise to that of conceptual:
she would have required in some form or another to have
substituted symbols for ideas. It makes no difference, so far
as this distinction is concerned, when we learn that in dealing
with certain savages " each sh:ep must be paid for
separately : thus, suppose two sticks of tobacco to be the
rate of exchange for one sheep, it would sorely puzzle a
Dammara to take two sheep and give him two sticks." * All
that such facts show is that in some respects the higher
receptual life of brutes attains almost as high a level of
ideation as the lower conceptual life of man ; and although
this fact no doubt greatly lessens the difficulty which my
opponents allege as attaching to the supposition that the two
were genetically continuous, it does not in itself dispose of the
psychological distinction between a recept and a concept.

This distinction, as we have now so often seen, consists
in a recept being an idea which is not itself an object of
knowledge, whereas a concept, in virtue of having been
na:ned by a self-conscious agent, is an idea which stands
before the mind of that agent as an idea, or as a state of
mind which admits of being introspectively contemplated as

* Gallon, 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 over-
looking 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 tlie
chimpanzee "Sally" to give one, two, three, four, or five straws at word of
command.

2 1 6 ME NT A L E I 'OL UTIOX JX MA X.

such. But although we have in this distinction what I agree
with my opponents in regarding as the greatest single
distinction that is to be met with in psychology, I altogether
object to their mode of analyzing it. For what they do is to
take the concept in its most highly developed form, and then
contrast this with the recept of an animal. Nay, as we have
seen, they even go beyond a concept, and allege that "the
simplest element of thought" is a judgment as bodied forth
in a proposition — i.e. tivo concepts plus the predication of a
relationship between them ! Truly, we might as well allege
that the simplest clement of matter is II2 S O4, or the
simplest element of sound a bar of the C Minor Symphony.
Obviously, therefore, or as a mere matter of the most
rudimentary psychological analysis, if we say that the simplest
element of thought is a judgment, we must extend the
meaning of this word from the mental act concerned in full
predication, to the mental act concerned in the simplest
conception.

And not only so. Not only have my opponents committed
the slovenly error of regarding a predicative judgment as
" the simplest element of thought ; " they have also omitted
to consider that even a concept requires to be analyzed with
respect to its antecedents, before this the really simplest
element of thought can be pointed to as proving a psycholo-
gical distinction of kind in the only known intelligence which
presents it. Now, the result of my analysis of the concept
has been to show that it is preceded by what I have termed
pre-concepts, which admit of being combined into what I
have termed nascent, rudimentary, or pre-conccptual judg-
ments. In other words, we have seen that the receptual life
of man reaches a higher level of development than the recep-
tual life of brutes, even before it passes into that truly concep-
tual phase which is distinguished by the presence of self-
conscious reflection. In order, therefore, to mark off this
higher receptual life of a human being from the lower recep-
tual life of a brute, I have used the terms just mentioned.

So much, then, for these several stages of ideation, which

THE TRAXSITIOX IX THE IXDIVIDUAL. 217

I have now reiterated ad nauseam. Turning next to my ana-
lysis of their several modes of expression, or of their transla-
tion into their severally equivalent systems of signs, we have
seen that many of the lower animals are able to communicate
their recepts by means of gestures significant of objects,
qualities, actions, desires, &c. ; and that in the only case
where they are able to articulate, they so communicate their
recepts by means of words. Therefore, in a sense, these
animals may be said to be using names ; but, in order not to
confuse this kind of naming with that which is distinctive of
conceptual thought, I have adopted the scholastic terminology,
and called the former kind of naming an act of denotating, as
distinguished from an act of denominating. Furthermore,
seeing that denotative language is able, as above observed, to
signify qualities and actions as well as objects, it follows
that in the higher receptual [i.e. pre-conceptual) stages of
ideation, denotative language is able to construct what I have
termed pre-conceptual propositions. These differ from true
or conceptual propositions in the absence of true self-con-
sciousness on the part of the speaker, who therefore, while
communicating receptual knowledge, or stating truths, cannot
yet know his own knowledge, or state the truths as true. But
it does not appear that a pre-conceptual proposition differs
from a conceptual one in any other respect, while it does
appear that the one passes gradually into the other with
the rise of self-consciousness in every growing child. Now, if
all these things are so, we are entitled to affirm that analysis
has displayed an uninterrupted transition between the denota-
tion of a brute and the predication of a man. For the mere
fact that it is the former phase alone which occurs in the
brute, while in the man, after having run a parallel course of
development, this phase passes into the other — the mere fact
that this is so cannot be quoted as evidence that a similar
transition never took place in the psychological history of our
species, unless it could be shown that when the transition
takes place in the psychological history of the individual, it
does so in such a sudden and remarkable manner as of itself

2l8 MEXTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX.

to indicate that the intellect of the individual has there and
then undergone a change of kind.

Such being an outline sketch of my argument, I will
now proceed to fill in the details, taking in historical order
the various stages of ideation which I have named — i.e. the
receptual, the pre-conceptual, and the conceptual.

Seeing that this is, as I apprehend, the central core of the
question, I will here furnish some additional instances of
receptual and pre-conceptual ideation as expressed by denota-
tive and connotative signs on the part of a child which I care-
fully observed for the purpose.

At eighteen months old my daughter, who was late in
beginning to speak, was fond of looking at picture-books, and
as already stated in a previous chapter, derived much pleasure
from naming animals therein represented, — saying Ba for a
sheep, Moo for a cow, uttering a grunt for a pig, and throwing
her head up and down with a bray for a horse or an ass.
These several sounds and gestures she had been taught by
the nurse as noun-substantives, and she correctly applied
them in every case, whether the picture-book happened to be
one with which she was familiar or one which she had never
seen before ; and she would similarly name all kinds of ani-
mals depicted on the wall-paper, chair-covers, &c., in strange
houses, or, in short, whenever she met with representations of
objects the nursery names of which she knew. Thus there is
no doubt that, long before she could form a sentence, or in any
proper sense be said to speak, this child was able to denote
objects by voice and gesture. At this time, also, she correctly
used a limited number of denotative words significant of
actions — i.e. active verbs.

Somewhat later by a few weeks she showed spontaneously
the faculty of expressing an adjective. Her younger brother
she had called " Ilda," and soon afterwards she extended
the name to all young children.* Later still, while looking

* The boy^s name was Ernest, and was thus called by all other members of the
household. As I could not find any imitative source of the dissimilar name used

THE TRANSITIOX IX THE INDIVIDUAL. 2ig

over her picture-books, whenever she came upon a representa-
tion of a sheep with lambs, she would point to the sheep and
say Mama-Ba, while to the lambs she would say Ilda-Ba.
Similarly with ducks and ducklings, hens and chickens, and
indeed with all the animals to which she had given names.
Here it is evident that Ilda served to convey the generic idea
of Young, and so, from having been originally used as a proper
or denotative name, was now employed as an adjective or
connotative name. But although it expressed a quality, the
quality was one of so sensible a kind that the adjective
amounted to virtually the same thing as substantive, so far as
any faculty of abstraction was concerned : it was equivalent to
the word Baby, when by connotative extension this comes
to be used as an adjective in the apposition Baby-Ba for a
lamb, &c.

Almost contemporaneously with the acquisition of adjec-
tives, this child began to learn the use of a few passive verbs,
and words significant of certain states of feeling ; she also added
to her vocabulary a few prepositions indicating space rela-
tions, such as Up, Doivn, &c.*

While these advances were being made, a general progress
of the sign-making faculty was also, and even more
conspicuously, shown in another direction. For speech, in the
sense of formal predication, not having yet begun, the
development in question took place in the region of gesture.
She was then (two years) able to express a great many simple
ideas by the combined use of gesture-signs, vocal-tones, and a

by his sister, this is probably an instance of the spontaneous invention of names
by young children, which has already been considered at the close of my 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.

• We shall subsequently see that at this stage of mental evolution there is no
well-defined distinction between the different parts of speech. Tlierefore here,
and elsewhere throughout this chapter, I use the terms "noun," "adjective,"
" verVj," &c., in a loose and general sense.

220 MEXTAL EVOLUTION IN MAX.

large connotative extension of her words. The gesture-signs,
however, were still of the simplest or most receptual order,
such as pulling one by the dress to open a door, pointing to a
tumbler to signify her desire for a drink, &c. That is to say,
the indicative stage of language largely coincided with, or over-
lapped, the earliest phases of the denotative and receptually
connotative, I have already said that this indicative stage
of language constituted the earliest appearance of the sign-
making faculty which I observed in my own children, at a
time when the only desire expressed seemed to be that of
being taken to the object indicated ; and, so far as I can
ascertain, this is universally true of all children. But the
point now is, that when the logic recepts had become more
full, the desires expressed by pointing became of a more and
more varied kind, until, at the age of two and a half {i.e. after
significant articulation or true word-making had well set in),
the indicative phase of language developed into regular
pantomime, as the following instance will show. Coming into
the house after having bathed in the sea for the first time, she
ran to me to narrate her novel experience. This she did by
first pointing to the shore, then pretending to take off her
clothes, to walk into the sea, and to dip : next, passing her
hands up the body to her head, she signified that the water
had reached as high as her hair, which she showed me was
still wet. The whole story was told without the use of a single
articulate sound.

Now, in the case of these illustrations (and many more of
the same kind might be added if needful), we find the same
general fact exemplified — namely, that the earliest phase of
language in the young child is that which I have called the
indicative, — i.e. tones and gestures significant of feelings,
objects, qualities, and actions. This indicative phase of
language, or sign-making, lasts much longer in some children
than in others (particularly in those who are late in beginning
to speak) ; and the longer it lasts the more expressive does it
become of advancing ideation. But in all cases two things
have to be observed in connection with it. The first is that,

THE TRAXSITION IN THE IXDIVIDUAL. 221

in its earliest stages, and onwards through a considerable part
of its history, it is precisely identical with the corresponding
phases of indicative sign-making in the lower animals. Thus,
for instance, Professor Preyer observed that at sixteen months
his own child — who at that age could not speak a word — used
to make a gesture significant of petitioning with its hands
(" Bittbewegung "), as indicative of desire for something to be
done. This, of course, I choose as an instance of indicative
sign-making at a comparatively high level of development ;
but it is precisely paralleled by an intelligent dog which
" begs" before a water-jug to signify his desire for a drink, or
before any other object in connection with which he desires
something to be done.* And so it is with children who pull
one's dress towards a closed door through which they wish to
pass, significantly cry for what they want to possess, or to
have done for them, &c. : children are here doing exactly
what cats and dogs will do under similar circumstances.f
And although many of the gesture-signs cf children at this
age {i.e. up to about eighteen months) are not precisely
paralleled by those of the lower animals, it is easy to see that
where there is any difference it is due to different circum-
stances of bodily shape, social conditions, &c. : it is not due
to any difference of ideation. That the kind of ideation which
is expressed by the indicative gestures of young children is the
same as that which prompts the analogous gestures of brutes,
is further shown by the fact that, even before any articulate
words are uttered, the infant (like the animal) will display an
understanding of many articulate words when uttered in its
presence, and (also like the animal) will respond to such
words by appropriate gestures. For instance, again to quote
Preyer, he found that his hitherto speechless infant was able
correctly to point to certain colours which he named ; and

• I have seen a terrier of my own (who habitually employed this gesture-sign
in the same way as I'reyer's child, namely, as expressive of desire), assiduously
though fruitlessly " beg" before a refractory bitch.

t 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, sec
above, p. 158.

222 ME XT A L FA'OLUriON I.V MAY.

although, as far as I am aware, no one has ever tried to teach
an animal to do this, we know that trained dogs will display
an even better understanding of words by means of appro-
priate gestures.*

The other point which has to be noticed in connection
with these early stages of indicative sign-making in the young
child is that, sooner or later, they begin to overlap the earliest
stage of articulate sign-making, or verbal denotation. In
other words, denotative sign-making never begins to occur
until indicative sign-making has advanced considerably ; and
when denotative sign-making does begin, it advances parallel
with indicative : that is to say, both kinds of sign-making
then proceed to develop simultaneously. But when the
vocabulary of denotation has been sufficiently enriched to
enable the child to dispense with the less efficient material
furnished by indication, indicative signs gradually become
starved out by denotative, and words replace gestures.

So far, then, as the earliest or indicative phase of language
is concerned, no difference even of degree can be alleged
between the infant and the animal. Neither can any such
difference be alleged with respect to the earliest exhibitions
of the next phases of language, namely, the denotative and
receptually connotative. For we have seen that the only
animals which happen to be capable of imitating articulate
sounds will use these sounds with a truly denotative signifi-
cance. Moreover, as we have also seen, within moderate limits
they will even extend such denotative significance to other
objects seen to belong to the same class or kind — thus raising
the originally denotative sign to an incipiently connotative
value. And although these receptually connotative powers of a
parrot are soon surpassed by those of a young child, we have

* For the case of the ape in this connection see above, p. 126. I took my
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.

THE TRAXSITION IX THE INDIVIDUAL. 223

further seen that this is merely owing to the rapid advance in
the degree of receptual Hfe which takes place in the latter — or,
in other words, that if a parrot resembled a dog in being able
to see the resemblance between objects and their pictures,
and also in being so much more able to understand the
meanings of words, then, without doubt, their connotative
extension of names would proceed further than it does ; and
hence in this matter the parallel between a parrot and child
would proceed further than it does. The only reason, there-
fore, why a child thus gradually surpasses a parrot in the
matter of connotation, is because the receptual life of a child
gradually rises to that of a dog — as I have already proved by
showing that the indicative or gesture-signs used by a child
after it has thus surpassed the parrot, are psychologically
identical with those which are used by a dog. Moreover,
where denotation is late in beginning and slow in developing
— as in the case of my own daughter — these indicative
signs admit, as we have seen, of becoming much more
highly perfected, so that under these circumstances a child
of two years will perform a little pantomime for the pur-
pose of relating its experiences. Now, this fact enables me
to dispense with the imaginary comparison of a dog that
is able to talk, or of a parrot as intelligent as a dog ; for the
fact furnishes me with the converse case of a child not able to
talk at the usual age. No one can suggest that the intelli-
gence of such a child at two years old differs in kind from
that of another child of the same age, who, on account of
having been earlier in acquiring the use of words, can afford
to become less proficient in the use of gestures.* The case
of a child late in talking may therefore be taken as a psycho-

* Or, if any opponent were to suggest tins, 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 fortre'^s of rny opponents would cruml)le away.

224 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

locrical index of the development of human ideation of the
receptual order, which by accident admits of closer comparison
with that of the higher mammalia than is possible in the case
of a child who begins to talk at the usual age. But, as
regards the former case, we have already seen that the
gestures begin by being much less expressive than those of
a dog, then gradually improve until they become psycho-
logically identical, and, lastly, continue in the same gradual
manner along the same line of advance. Therefore, if in this
case no difference of kind can be alleged ttntil the speaking
age is reached, neither can it be alleged after the speaking age
is reached in the case where this happens to be earlier. Or,
in the words previously used, if a dog like a parrot were able
to use verbal signs, or if a parrot were equal in intelligence
to a dog, the connotative powers of a child would continue
parallel with those of a brute through a somewhat longer
reach of psychological development than we now find to be
the case.

Remembering, then, that brutes so low in the psycho-
logical scale as talking birds reach the level of denotating
objects, qualities, &c. ; remembering that some of these birds
will extend their denotative names to objects and qualities
conspicuously belonging to the same class ; remembering,
further, that all children before they begin to speak have
greatly distanced the talking birds in respect of indicative
language or gesture-signs, while some children (or those late
in beginning to speak) will raise this form of language to the
level of pantomime, thus proving that the receptual ideation of
infants just before they begin to speak is invariably above
that of talking birds, and often far above that of any other
animal ; — remembering all these things, I say it would indeed
be a most unaccountable fact if children, soon after they do
begin to speak, did not display a great advance upon the
talking birds in their use of denotative signs, and also in their
extension of such signs into connotative words. As we
have seen, it must be conceded by all prudent adversaries
that, before he is able to use any of these signs, an infant is

THE TRANSITION IN THE INDIVIDUAL. 225

moving in the receptual sphere of ideation, and that this
sphere is already (between one and two years) far above that
of the parrot. Yet, hke the parrot, one of the first uses that
he makes of these signs is in the denotation of individual
objects, &c. Next, like the more intelligent parrots, he
extends the meaning of his denotative names to objects most
obviously resembling those which were first designated. And
from that point onwards he rapidly advances in his powers of
connotative classification. But can it be seriously main-
tained, in view of all the above considerations, that this rapid
advance in the powers of connotative classification betokens
any difference of kind between the ideation of the child and
that of the bird ? If it is conceded (as it must be unless my
opponents commit argumentative suicide), that before he
could speak at all the infant was confined to the receptual
sphere of ideation, and that within this sphere his ideation
was already superior to the ideation of a bird, — this is merely
to concede that analogies must strike the child which are
somewhat too remote to strike the bird. Therefore, while the
bird will only extend its denotative name from one kind of
dog to another, the child, after having done this, will go on to
apply the name to an image, and, lastly, to the picture of a dog.
Surely no one will be fatuous enough to maintain that here,
at the commencement of articulate sign-making, there is any
evidence of generic distinction between the human mind and
the mind of even so poor a representative of animal psychology
as we meet with in a parrot. But, if no such distinction is to
be asserted here, neither can it be asserted anywhere else,
until we arrive at the stage of human ideation where the mind
is able to contemplate that ideation as such. So far, therefore,
as the stages which we are now considering are concerned [i.e.
the denotative and receptually connotative), I submit that my
case is made out. And yet these arc really the most important
stages to be clear about ; for, on account of their having been
ignored by nearly all writers who argue that there is a differ-
ence of kind between man and brute, the most important —
because the initial — stages of transition have been lost sight of,

Q

226 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

and the fully developed powers of human thought contrasted
with their low beginnings in the brute creation, without any
attention having been paid to the probable history of their
development. Hitherto, so far as I can find, no psychologist
has presented clearly the simple question whether the faculty
of naming is always and necessarily co-extensive with that
of thinking the names ; and, therefore, the two faculties have
been assumed to be one and the same. Yet, as I have
shown in an earlier chapter, even in the highest forms of
human ideation we habitually use names without waiting to
think of them as names — which proves that even in the
highest regions of ideation the two faculties are not necessarily
coincident.* And here I have further shown that, whether
we look to the brute or to the human being, we alike find that
the one faculty is in its inception tvholly independent of the
other — that there are connotative names before there are any
denominative thoughts, and that these connotative names, when
they first occur in brute or child, betoken no further aptitude
of ideation than is betokened by those stages in the language
of gesture which they everywhere overlap. The named recepts
of a parrot cannot be held by my opponents to be true con-
cepts, any more than the indicative gestures of an infant can
be held by them to diftcr in kind from those of a dog.

I submit, then, that neither as regards the indicative, the
denotative, nor the connotative stages of sign-making is it
argumentatively possible to allege any dift*erence of kind
between animal and human intelligence — apart, I mean, from
any evidence of self-consciousness in the latter, or so long as
the intelligence of either is moving in what I have called the
receptual sphere. Let us, then, next consider what I have
called the prc-conceptual stage of ideation, or that higher

* 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.

THE TRANSITION IN THE INDIVIDUAL. 22/

receptual life of a child which, while surpassing the recep-
tual life of any brute, has not yet attained to the conceptual
life of a man.

From what I have already said it must, I should suppose,
be now conceded that, at the place where the receptual life of
a child first begins to surpass the receptual life of any other
mammal, no psychological difference of kind can be affirmed.
Let us, therefore, consent to tap this pre-conceptual life at
a considerably higher level, and analyze the quality of
ideation which flows therefrom : let us consider the case of
a child about two years old, who is able to frame such a
rudimentary, communicative, or pre-conceptual proposition as
Dit ki (Sister is crying). At this age, as already shown, there
is no consciousness of self as a thinking agent, and, therefore,
no power of stating a truth as true. Dit is the denotative
name of one recept, ki the denotative name of another : the
object and the action which these two recepts severally
represent happen to occur together before the child's
observation : the child therefore denotes them both simul-
taneously— i.e. brings them into apposition. This it does
by merely following the associations previously established
between the recept of a familiar object with its denotative
name dit, and the recept of a frequent action with its
denotative name ki. The apposition in consciousness of
these two recepts, with their corresponding denotations, is
thus effected for the child by what may be termed tJie logic
of events: it is not effected by the child in the way of any
intentional or self-conscious grouping of its ideas, such as we
have seen to constitute the distinguishing feature of the logic
of concepts.

Such being the state of the facts, I put to my opponents
the following dilemma. Either you here have judgment, or
else you have not. If you hold that this is judgment, you
must also hold that animals judge, because I have proved
a ready that (according to your own doctrine as well as
mine) the only point wherein it can be alleged that the
faculty of judgment differs in animals and in man consists

228 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

in the presence or absence of self-consciousness. If, on the
otlier hand, you answer that here you have not judgment,
inasmuch as you have not self-consciousness, I will ask you
at what stage in the subsequent development of the child's
intelligence you would consider judgment to arise ? If to
this you answer that judgment first arises when self-conscious-
ness arises, I will ask you to note that, as already proved, the
growth of self-consciousness is itself a gradual process ; so that,
according to your present limitation of the term judgment, it
becomes impossible to say when this faculty does arise. In
point of fact, it grows by stages, /^r? passu with the growth
of self-consciousness. But, if so, where the faculty of stating
a truth perceived passes into the higher faculty of perceiving
the truth as true, there must be a continuous series of
gradations connecting the one faculty with the other. Up to
the point where this series of gradations begins, we have seen
that the mind of an animal and the mind of a man are
parallel, or not distinguishable from each other by any one
principle of psychology. Will you, then, maintain that up to
this time the two orders of psychical existence are identical
in kind, but that during its ascent through this final series of
gradations the human mind in some way becomes distinct in
kind, not merely from the mind of animals, but also from its
oivn previous self ? If so, I must at this point part company
with you in argument, because at this point your argument
ends in a contradiction. If A and B are affirmed to be
similar in origin or kind, and if B is affirmed to grow into C
— or to differ from both A and B only in degree, — it becomes
a contradiction further to affirm that C differs from A in kind.
Therefore I submit that, so far as the pre-conceptual stage of
ideation is concerned, it is still argumentatively impossible
for my opponents to show that there is any psychological
difference of kind between man and brute.

As regards this stage of ideation, then, I claim to have
shown that, just as there is a pre-conceptual kind of naming,
wherein originally denotative words are progressively extended
through considerable degrees of connotative meaning ; so

THE TRANSITION IN THE INDIVIDUAL. 229

there is a pre-conceptual kind of predication, wherein
denotative and connotative terms are brought together
without any conceptual cognizance of the relation thus
virtually alleged between them. For I have proved in the
last chapter that it is not until its third year that a child
acquires true or conceptual self-consciousness, and therefore
attains the condition to true or conceptual predication. Yet
long before that time, as I have also proved, the child forms
what I have called rudimentary, or pre-conceptual, and,
therefore, untlunking propositions. Such propositions, then,
are statements of truth made for the practical purposes of
communication ; but they are not statements of truth as true,
and therefore not, strictly speaking, propositions at all.
They are translations of the logic of recepts ; but not of the
logic of concepts. For neither the truth so stated, nor the
idea thus translated, can ever have been placed before the
mind as itself an object of thought. In order to have been
thus placed, the mind must have been able to dissociate
this its product from the rest of its structure — or, as Mr
Mivart says, to make the things affirmed " exist beside
the judgment, not in it." And, in order to do this, the
mind must have attained to self-consciousness. But, as
just remarked, such is not yet the case with a child of the
age in question ; and hence we are bound to conclude
that before there is judgment or predication in the sense
understood by psychologists (conceptual), there is judgment
and predication of a lower order (pre-conceptual), wherein
truths are stated for the sake of communicating simple ideas,
while the propositions which convey them are not themselves
objects of thought. And, be it carefully observed, predication
of this rudimentary or pre-conceptual kind is accomplished by
the mere apposition of denotative signs, in accordance with
the general principles of association. A being the denotative
name of an object a, and B the denotative name of a quality
or action b, when a b occur together in nature, the relation
between them is prc-conceptually affirmed by the mere act
of bringing into apposition the corresponding denotations

230 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

A B — an act which is rendered inevitable by the elementary
laws of psychological association.*

The matter, then, has been reduced to the last of the three
stages of ideation which have been marked out for discussion
— namely, the conceptual. Now, whether or not there is any
difference of kind between the ideation which is capable and
the ideation which is not capable of itself becoming an object
of thought, is a question which can only be answered by
studying the relations that obtain between the two in the
case of the growing child. But, as we have seen, when we
do study these relations, we find that they are clearly those
of a gradual or continuous passage of the one ideation into the
other — a passage, indeed, so gradual and continuous that it is
impossible, even by means of the closest scrutiny, to decide
within wide limits where the one begins and the other ends.
Therefore I need not here recur to this point. Having
already shown that the very condition to the occurrence of
conceptual ideation (namely, self-consciousness) is of gradual
development in the growing child, it is needless to show at
any greater length that the development of conceptual out
of pre-conceptual ideation is of a similarly gradual occurrence.
This fact, indeed, is in itself sufficient to dispose of the
allegation of my opponents — namely, that there is evidence of
receptual ideation differing from conceptual in origin or kind.

* In this connection it is interesting to observe the absence of the copula.
Notwithstanding the strongly imitative tendencies of a child's mind, and notwith-
standing that our English children hear the copula expressed in almost every
statement that is made to them, their own propositions, while still in the pre-
conceptual 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.

THE TRANSITION IN THE INDIVIDUAL. 23 1

Only if it could be shown — either that the receptual ideation
of an infant differs in kind from that of an animal, or that
the pre-conceptual ideation of a child so differs from the
preceding receptual ideation of the same child, or lastly, that
this pre-conceptual ideation so differs from the succeeding
conceptual ideation — only if one or other of the alterna-
tives could be proved would my opponents be able to justify
their allegation. And, as a mere matter of logic, to prove
either of the last two alternatives would involve a com-
plete reconstruction of their argument. For at present their
argument goes upon the assumption that throughout all the
phases of its development a human mind is one in kind —
that it is nowhere fundamentally changed from one order of
existence to another. But in case any subtle opponent should
suggest that, although I have proved the first of the above
three alternatives untenable — and, therefore, that there is no
difference even of degree between the mind of an infant and
that of an animal, — I have nevertheless ignored the possibility
that in the subsequent development of every human being
a special miracle may be wrought, which regenerates that mind,
gives it a new origin, and so changes it as to kind — in case any
one should suggest this, I here entertain the two last alterna-
tives as logically possible. But, even so, as we have now so
fully seen, study of the child's intelligence while passing
through its several phases of development yields no shadow
of evidence in fav'our of any of these alternatives ; while, on
the contrary, it most clearly reveals the fact that transition
from each of the levels of ideation to the next above it is of
so gradual and continuous a character that it is practically
impossible to draw any real lines of demarcation between
them. This, then, I say is in itself enough to dispose of the
allegation of my opponents, seeing that it shows the allegation
to be, not only gratuitous, but opposed to the whole body of
evidence which is furnished by a study of the facts. Never-
theless, still restricting ourselves to grounds of psychology
alone, there remains two general and important considerations
of an independent or supplementary kind, which tend strongly

232 MENTAL EVOLUTION L\ MAN.

to support my side of the argument. These two considera-
tions, therefore, I will next adduce.

The first consideration is, that although the advance to
self-consciousness from lower grades of mental development
is no doubt a very great and important matter, it is not so
great and important in comparison with what this develop-
ment is afterwards destined to become, as to make us feel
that it constitutes any distinction sui geiicris — or even,
perhaps, the principal distinction — between the man and the
brute. For while, on the one hand, we have now fully seen
that, given the protoplasm of judgment and of predication as
these occur in the young child (or as they may be supposed
to have occurred in our semi-human ancestors), and self-
consciousness must needs arise ; on the other hand, there is
evidence to show that when self-consciousness does arise,
and even when it is fairly well developed, the powers of the
human mind are still in an almost infantile condition. Thus,
for instance, I have observed in my own children that, while
before their third birthday they employed appropriately and
always correctly the terms "I," "my," "self," "myself," at
that age their powers of reasoning were so poorly developed
as scarcely to be in advance of those which are exhibited by
an intelligent animal. To give only one instance of this.
My little girl Avhen four and a half years old — or nearly two
years after she had correctly used the terms indicative of true
self-consciousness — wished to know what room was beneath
the drawing-room of a house in which she had lived from the
time of her birth. When she asked me to inform her, I told
her to try to think out the problem for herself She first
suggested the bath-room, which was not only above the
drawing-room, but also at the opposite side of the house ;
next she suggested the dining-room, which, although below
the drawing-room, was also at the other side of the house ;
and so on, the child clearly having no power to think out so
simple a problem as the one which she had spontaneously
desired to solve. From which (as from many other instances

THE TRANSITION IN THE INDIVIDUAL. 233

on my notes in this connection) I conclude that the genesis
of self-consciousness marks a comparatively low level in the
evolution of the human mind — as we might expect that it
should, if its genesis depends on the not unintelligible
conditions which I have endeavoured to explain in the last
chapters. But, if so, does it not follow that great as the
importance of self-consciousness afterwards proves to be as
a condition to the higher development of ideation, in itself,
or in its first beginning, it does not betoken any very per-
ceptible improvement upon those powers of pre-conceptual
ideation which it immediately follows ? In other words, there
is thus shown to be even less reason to regard the advent of
self-consciousness as marking a psychological difference of
kind, than there would be so to regard the advent of those
higher powers of conceptual ideation which subsequently —
though as gradually — supervene between early childhood and
youth. Yet no one has hitherto ventured to suggest that the
intelligence of a child and the intelligence of a youth display
a difference of kind.

Or, otherwise stated, the psychological interval between
my cebus and my child (when the former successfully
investigated the mechanical principle of the screw by means
of his highly developed receptual faculties, while the latter
unsuccessfully attempted to solve a most simple topographical
problem by means of her lowly developed conceptual
faculties), was assuredly much less than that which afterwards
separated the intelligence of my child from this level of its
own previous self Therefore, on merely ps}xhological
grounds, I conclude that there would be better — or less bad —
reasons for alleging that there is an observable difference of
kind between the lowest and the highest levels of conceptual
ideation, than there is to allege that any such difference
obtains between the lowest level of conceptual ideation and
the highest level of receptual.

"The greatest of all distinctions in biology," when it
first arises, is thus seen to lie in [is potentiality rather than in
its origin. Self-consciousness is, indeed, the condition to an

234 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

immeasurable change in the mind which presents it ; but, in
order to become so, it must be itself conditioned : it must
itself undergo a long and gradual development under the
guiding principles of a natural evolution.

And, now, lastly, the second supplementary consideration
which I have to adduce is, that even in the case of a fully
developed self-conscious intelligence, both receptual and pre-
conceptual ideation continue to play an important part. That
is to say, even in the full-summed powers of the human
intellect, the three descriptions of ideation which I have
distinguished are so constantly and so intimately blended
together, that analysis of the adult mind corroborates the fact
already yielded by analysis of the infantile mind, namely, that
the distinctions (which I have been obliged to draw in order
to examine the allegations of my opponents) are all essenti-
ally or intrinsically artificial. My position is that Mind is
everywhere continuous, and if for purposes of analysis or
classification we require to draw lines of demarcation between
the lower and the higher faculties thereof, I contend that we
should only do so as an evolutionist classifies his animal or
vegetable species : higher or lower do not betoken differences
of origin, but differences of devdopvicnt. And just as the
naturalist finds a general corroboration of this view in the fact
that structural and functional characters are carried upwards
from lower to higher forms of life, thus knitting them all
together in the bonds of organic evolution ; so may the
psychologist find that even the highest forms of human
intelligence unmistakably share the more essential characters
met with in the lower, thus bearing testimony to their own
lineage in a continuous system of mental evolution.

Let us, then, briefly contemplate the relations that obtain
in the adult human mind between the boasted faculties of
conceptual judgment, and the lower faculties of non-conceptual.
Although I agree with my opponents in holding that
predication (in the strict sense of the term) is dependent on
introspection, I further hold that not every statement made

THE TRANSITION IN THE INDIVIDUAL. 235

by adult man is a predication in this sense : the vast majority
of our verbal propositions are made for the practical
purposes of communication, or without the mind pausing to
contemplate the propositions as such in the light of self-con-
sciousness. When I say " A negro is black," I do not require
to think all the formidable array of things that Mr. Mivart
says I affirm * ; and, on the other hand, when I perform an act
of conscious introspection, I do not always require to perform
an act of mental predication. No doubt in many cases, or
in those where highly abstract ideation is concerned, this
independence of the two faculties arises from each having
undergone so much elaboration by the assistance which it has
derived from the other, that both are now, so to speak, in
possession of a large body of organized material on which to
operate, without requiring, whensoever they are exercised, to
build up the structure of this material ab initio. Thus, to take
an example, when I say " Heat is a mode of motion," I am
using what is now to me a merely verbal sign which expresses
an external fact : I do not require to examine my own ideas
upon the abstract terms in the abstract relation which the
proposition sets forth. But for the original attainment of
these ideas I had to exercise many and complex efforts of
conceptual thought, without the previous occurrence of which
I should not now have been able to use, with full understand-
ing of its import, this verbal sign. Thus all such predications,
however habitual and mechanical they may become, must at
some time have required the mind to examine the ideas which
they announce. And, similarly, all acts of such mental
examination — i.e. all acts of introspection, — however super-
fluous they may now appear when their known product is
used for further acts of mental examination, must originally
have required the mind to pause before them and make to
itself a definite statement or predication of their meaning, f

* See p. 166.

t 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 fretjucnt use,

236 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

But although I hold this to be the true explanation of the
apparent independence of predication and introspection in all
cases of highly abstract thought, I am firmly convinced that in
all cases where those lower orders of ideation to which I have
so often referred as receptual and pre-conceptual are concerned,
the independence is not only apparent, but real. This, indeed,
I have already proved must be the case with the pre-conceptual
propositions of a young child, inasmuch as such propositions
are then made in the absence of self-consciousness, or of the
necessary condition to their being in any degree introspective.
But the point now is, that even in the adult human mind
non-conceptual predication is habitual, and that, in cases
where only receptual ideation is concerned, predication of this
kind need never have been conceptual. For, as Mill very truly
says, "it will be admitted that, by asserting the proposition,
we wish to communicate information of that physical fact
(namely, that the summit of Chimborazo is white), and are
not thinking of the names, except as the necessary means of
making that communication. The meaning of the proposition,
therefore, is that the individual thing denoted by the subject
has the attributes connoted by the predicate." *

Now, if it is thus true that even in ordinary predication we
may not require to take conceptual cognizance of the matter
predicated — having to do only with the apposition of names
immediately suggested by association, — the ideation concerned
becomes so closely affiliated with that which is expressed in
the lower levels of sign-making, that even if the connecting
links were not supplied by the growing child, no one would be
justified, on psychological grounds alone, in alleging any
difference of kind between one level and another. The object
of all sign-making is primarily that of communication, and
from our study of the lower animals we know that
communication first has to do exclusively with recepts, while

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.
* Logic, vol. i., p. 108.

THE TRANSITION IN THE INDIVIDUAL. 237

from our study of the growing child we know that it is the
signs used in the communication of recepts which first lead to
the formation of concepts. For concepts are first of all
named recepts, known as such ; and we have seen in previous
chapters that this kind of knowledge {i.e. of names as names)
is rendered possible by introspection, which, in turn is reached
by the naming of self as an agent. But even after the power
of conceptual introspection has been fully reached, demand is
not always made upon it for the communication of merely
receptual knowledge ; and therefore it is that not every
proposition requires to be introspectively contemplated as
such before it can be made. Given the power of denotative
nomination on the one hand, and the power of even the
lowest degree of connotative nomination on the other, and all
the conditions are furnished to the formation of non-con-
ceptual statements, which differ from true propositions only
in that they do not themselves become objects of thought.
And the only difference between such a statement when made
by a young child, and the same statement when similarly
made by a grown man, is that in the former case it is not even
potentially capable of itself becoming an object of thought.

Here, then, the psychological examination of my oppo-
nents' position comes to an end. And, in the result, I claim to
have shown that in whatever way we regard the distinctively
human faculty of conceptual predication, it is proved to be but
a higher development of that faculty of receptual communi-
cation, the ascending degrees of which admit of being traced
through the brute creation up to the level which they attain
in a child during the first part of its second year, — after which
they continue to advance uninterruptedly through the still
higher receptual life of the child, until by further though not
less imperceptible growth they pass into the incipicntly con-
ceptual life of a human mind — which, nevertheless, is not even
then nearly so far removed from the intelligence of the lower
animals, as it is from that which in the course of its own
subsequent evolution it is eventually destined to become.

2^8 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

CHAPTER XII.

COMPARATIVE PHILOLOGY.

We have now repeatedly seen that there is only one argument
in favour of the view that the elsewhere continuous and uni-
versal process of evolution — mental as well as organic — was
interrupted at its terminal phase, and that this argument
stands on the ground of psychology. But we have also seen
that even upon this its own ground the argument admits of
abundant refutation. In order the more clearly to show that
such is the case, I have hitherto designedly kept my discussion
within the limits of psychological science. The time, however,
has now come when I can afford to take a new point of
departure. It is to Language that my opponents appeal : to
Language they shall go.

In previous chapters I have more than once remarked that
the science of historical psychology is destitute of fossils :
unlike pre-historic structures, pre-historic ideas leave behind
them no record of their existence. But now a partial excep-
tion must be taken to this general statement. For the new
science of Comparative Philology has revealed the important
fact that, if on the one hand speech gives ^A'pression to ideas,
on the other hand it receives /;//pression from them, and that
the impressions thus stamped are surprisingly persistent. The
consequence is that in philology we possess the same kind of
unconscious record of the growth and decay of ideas, as is
furnished by palaeontology of the growth and decay of
species. Thus viewed, language may be regarded as the
stratified deposit of thoughts, wherein they lie embedded
ready to be unearthed by the labours of the man of science.

COMPARATIVE PHILOLOGY. 239

In now turning to this important branch of my subject, I
may remark in limine that, like all the sciences, philology can
be cultivated only by those who devote themselves specially
to the purpose. I\Iy function, therefore, will here be that of
merely putting together the main results of philological
research, so far as this has hitherto proceeded, and so far as
these results appear to me to have any bearing upon the
"origin of human faculty." Being thus myself obliged to
rely upon authority, where I find that authorities are in con-
flict— which, I need hardly say, is often the case — I will either
avoid the points of disagreement, or else state what has to be
said on both sides of the question. But where I find that all
competent authorities are in substantial agreement, I will not
burden my exposition by tautological quotations.

Among the earlier students of language it was a moot
question whether the faculty had its origin in Divine inspira-
tion or in human invention. So long as the question touching
the origin of language was supposed to be restricted to one
or other of these alternatives, the special creationists in this
department of thought may be regarded as having had the
best of the argument. And this for the following reasons.
Their opponents, for the most part, were unfairly handicapped
by a general assumption of special creation as regards the
origin of man, and also by a general belief in the confusion
of tongues at the Tower of Babel. The theory of evolution
having been as yet unformulated, there was an antecedent
presumption in favour of the Divine origin of speech, since it
appeared in the last degree improbable that Adam and Eve
should have been created " with full-summed powers " of
intellect, without the means of communicating their ideas to
one another. And even where scientific investigators were
not expressly dominated by acceptance of the biblical cosmo-
logy, many of thena were nevertheless implicitly influenced by
it, to the extent of supposing that if language were not the
result of direct inspiration, it can only have been the result of
deliberate invention. But against this supposition of language
having been deh'bcrately invented, it was easy for orthodox

240 MENTAL EVOLUTION LV MAN.

opponents to answer — " Daily experience informs us, that men
who have not learned to articulate in their childhood, never
afterwards acquire the faculty of speech but by such helps as
savages cannot obtain ; and therefore, if speech were invented
at all, it must have been either by children who were inca-
pable of invention, or by men who were incapable of speech. A
thousand, nay, a million, of children could not think of invent-
ing a language. While the organs are pliable, there is not
understanding enough to frame the conception of a language ;
and by the time that there is understanding, the organs are
become too stiff for the task, and therefore, say the advocates
for the Divine origin of language, reason as well as history
intimates that mankind in all ages must have been speaking
animals — the young having constantly acquired this art by
imitating those who are older ; and we may warrantably con-
clude that our first parents received it by immediate inspira-
tion." *

There remained, however, the alternative that language
might have been the result neither of Divine inspiration nor of
human invention ; but of natural growth. And although this
alternative was clearly perceived by some of the earlier philo-
logists, its full significance could not be appreciated before
the advent of the general theory of evolution.f Nevertheless,
it is here of interest to observe that the theory of evolution

* Encyclopedia Britannica, eighth edition, 1S57, Art. "Language."
t Of course in classical times, when there was no theological presumption
a"-ainst 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 centuiy 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 fiir Vblkerpsychologie 7ind Sprachwissenschaft. From that
date onwards the theory of evolution in its application to philology has held
undivided sway.

COMPARATIVE PHILOLOGY. 24 1

was clearly educed from, and applied to, the study of
languages by some of the more scientific philologists, before
it had been clearly enunciated by naturalists. Thus, for
instance. Dr. Latham, while criticizing the passage above
quoted, wrote in 1857 : — " In the actual field of language, the
lines of demarcation are less definitely marked than in the
preceding sketch. The phenomena of growth, however, are,
upon the whole, what it suggests. ... In order to account
for the existing lines of demarcation, which are broad and
definite, we must bear in mind a fresh phenomenon, viz. the
spread of one dialect at the expense of others, a fact which
obliterates intermediate forms, and brings extreme ones into
geographical juxtaposition." *

Now, at the present day — owing partly to the establish-
ment of the doctrine of evolution in the science of biology,
but much more to direct evidence furnished by the science of
philology itself — students of language are unanimous in their
adoption of the developmental theory. Even Professor Max
Miiller insists that "no student of the science of language can
be an}'thing but an evolutionist, for, wherever he looks, he sees
nothing but evolution going on all around him ; " f while
Schleicher goes so far as to say that "the development of
new forms from preceding forms can be much more easily
traced, and this on even a larger scale, in the province of
words, than in that of plants and animals." f

Here, however, it is needful to distinguish between
language and languages. A philologist may be firmly con-
vinced that all languages have developed by way of natural
growth from those simplest elements, or " roots," which we
shall presently have to consider. But he may nevertheless
hesitate to conclude, with anything like equal certainty, that
these simplest elements were themselves developed from still

* Encycl. Brit., loc. cit. Remembering that the above was published two
years before the Origin of Species by means of Natural Selection, this clear enunci-
ation of the struggle for existence in the field of j^hilology appears to me deserving
of notice.

t Science of Thought, preface, p. xi.

\ Darwinism tested by the Science of Language, p. 41.

R

242 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IN MAN.

lower ingredients of the sign-making faculty ; and hence
that not only all languages in particular, but the faculty of
language in general, has been the result of a natural evolution.

Here then, let it be noted, we arc in the presence of
exactly the same distinction with regard to the origin of
language, as we were at the beginning of this treatise with
regard to the origin of man. For we there saw that while we
have the most cogent historical evidence in proof of the
principles of evolution having governed the progress of
civilization, we have no such direct evidence of the descent
of man from a brutal ancestry. And here also we find that,
so long as the light of history is able to guide us, there can
be no doubt that the principles of evolution have determined
the gradual development of languages, in a manner strictly
analogous to that in which they have determined the ever-
increasing refinement and complexity of social organization.
Now, in the latter case we saw that such direct evidence of
evolution from lower to higher levels of culture renders it
well-nigh certain that the method must have extended
backwards beyond the historical period ; and hence, that
such direct evidence of evolution uniformly pervading the
historical period, in itself furnishes a strong prima facie
presumption that this period was itself reached by means of
a similarly gradual development of human faculty. And
thus, also, it is in the case of language. If philology is able
to prove the fact of evolution in all known languages as far
back as the primitive roots out of which they have severally
grown, the presumption becomes exceedingly strong that
these earhest and simplest elements, like their later and more
complex products, were the result of a natural growth.

Nevertheless, as I have said, it is important to distinguish
between demonstrated fact and speculative inference, however
strong ; and, therefore, I will begin by briefly stating the
stages of evolution through which languages are now
generally recognized by philologists to have passed, without
at present considering the more difficult question as to the
origin of roots.

COMPARATIVE PHILOLOGY. 243

Supposing we take such a word as " uncostliness."
Obviously here the " un " the " li " and the " ness " are
derivative appendages, demonstrative elements, suffixes and
affixes, or whatever else we care to call modifying constants
which the speakers of a language are in the habit of adding to
their root-words, for the sake of ringing upon those words
whatever changes of meaning occasion may require. These
modifying constants, of course, have all had a history, which
often admits of being traced. Thus, for instance, in the
above illustration, we know that the " li " is an abbreviation
of what used to be pronounced as " like ; " the " ness," however,
being older than the English language ; while the " un " dates
back still further. The word " cost," then, is here the root, as
far as English is concerned — though it can be followed
(through the Latin con-sta) to an Aryan root, signifying
" stand."

These modifying constants, moreover, are not restricted
to suffixes, infixes, and affixes attached to roots, so as to
constitute single (or compound) words : they also occur as
themselves separate words, which admit of being built into
the structure of sentences as pronouns, adverbs, prepositions,
&c. And they may occur likewise as so-called "auxiliary
verbs," in the case of some languages, while in the case of
others their functions are served by grammatical " inflection "
of the words themselves. Thus, according to the " genius "
of a language, its roots are made to lend themselves
to significant treatment in different ways, or according to
different methods. But in all cases the roots are present,
and serve as what may be termed the back-bone of a
language : the demonstrative elements, in whatever form
they appear, are merely what I have termed modifying
constants.

From this general fact we may be prepared to expect, on
the theory of evolution, that in all languages the roots should
be the oldest elements ; those elements which serve only the
function of "demonstrating" the particular meaning which is
to be assigned to the roots on particular occasions, wc should

244 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

expect to have been of later growth. For they serve only
the function of giving specific meanings to the general
meanings already present in the roots ; and, therefore, in the
absence of the roots would themselves present no meaning at
all. Consequently, as I have said, we should antecedently
expect to find that the roots are the earliest discoverable
(though not on this account necessarily the most primitive)
elements of all languages. And this, as a general rule, is
what we do find. In tracing back the family tree of any
group of languages, different demonstrative elements are
found on different branches, though all these branches proceed
from {i.e. are found to contain) the same roots. Of course
these roots may be variously modified, both as to sound and
the groups of words to which in the different branches they
have given origin ; but such divergent evolution merely
tends to corroborate the proof of a common descent among
all the branches concerned.*

I have said that all philologists now agree in accepting the
doctrine of evolution as applied to languages in general ; while
there is no such universal agreement touching the precise
method or history of evolution in the case of particular
languages. I will, therefore, first give a brief statement of the
main facts of language-structure, and afterwards render an
equally short account of the different views which are enter-

* 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 Miiller 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, how-ever, 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 modificatorj- " [^loc. cif., pp. 224 and 225).
See also Farrar, Origin of Language, pp. 100, et seq.; Donaldson, G7-eek Grammar,
pp. 67-79 ; -^^^ Hovelacque, Science of Language, p. 37. It will be remarked
that this question does not affect the exposition in the text.

COMPARATIVE PHILOLOGY. 245

tained upon the question of language-development. Or, to
borrow terms from another science, I will first deal with
the morphology of the main divisions of the language-king-
dom., and then proceed to consider the question of their
phylogeny.

More than a thousand languages exist as "living"
languages, no one of which is intelligible to the speakers of
another. These separate languages, however, are obviously
divisible into families — all the members of each family being
more or less closely allied, while members of different families
do not present any such evidence of genetic affinity. The
test of genetic affinity is resemblance in structure, grammar,
and roots. Judged by this test, the thousand or more living
languages are classified by Professor Friedrich Mllller under
" about one hundred families." * Therefore, again to borrow
biological terms, we may say that there are about one
thousand existing " species " of language, which fall into
about one hundred "genera" — all the species in each genus
being undoubtedly connected by the ties of genetic affinity.

But besides these species and genera of language, there
are what may be termed " orders " — or much larger divisions,
each comprising many of the genera. By philologists these
orders are usually called " groups," and whether or not there
is any genetic relation among them is still an unsettled
question. From the very earliest days of true linguistic
research, three of these groups have been recognized, and
called respectively, (i) the Isolating. (2) the Agglutinative,
and (3) the Inflectional. I will first explain the meaning
which these names arc intended to bear, and then proceed to
consider the results of more recent research upon the question
of their phylogeny.

In the Isolatins; forms of language every word stands by
itself, without being capable of inflectional change for
purposes of grammatical construction, and without admitting

* Grundriss der Sprachwissenschaft, I. i. 77. This esliniato is accepted by
Professor Sayce, lulroduction to the Science 0/ /.atij^iiage, vol. ii., \). 32.

246 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

of much assistance for such purposes from demonstrative
elements, or modifying constants. Languages of this kind
are often called Mcmosyllabic, from the fact that the isolated
words usually occur in the form of single syllables. They
have also been called Radical, from the resemblance which their
monosyllabic and isolated words present to the primitive
roots of languages of other types — roots which, as already
indicated, have been unearthed by the labours of the com-
parative philologist. Thus, upon the whole, the best idea of an
isolating language may be gained by comparing it with the
" nursery-language " of our own children, who naturally
express themselves, when first beginning to speak, by using
monosyllabic and isolated words, which further resemble the
languages in question by not clearly distinguishing between
what we understand as " parts of speech." For in isolating
tongues such variations of grammatical meaning as the words
are capable of conveying are mainly produced, either by
differences of intonation, or by changing the positions which
words occupy in a sentence. Of course these expedients
obtain more or less in languages of both the other types ; but
in the isolating group they have been wrought up into a much
greater variety and nicety of usage, so as to become fairly
good substitutes for modifying constants on the one hand,
and inflectional change on the other. Nevertheless, although
inflectional change is wholly absent, modifying constants in
the form of auxiliary words are not so. In Chinese, for
example, there are wdiat the native grammarians call "full
words," and "empty words." The full words are the mono-
syllabic terms, which, when standing by themselves, present
meanings of such vague generality as to include, for instance,
a ball, round, to make round, in a circle : that is to say, the
full words when standing alone do not belong to any one
part of speech more than to another. Moreover, one such
word may present many totally different meanings, such as to
be, truly, he, the letter, thus. In order, therefore, to notify the
particular meaning which a full word is intended to convey,
the empty words are used as aids supplementary to the

COMPARATIVE PHILOLOGY. 247

devices of intonation and syntax. It is probable that all
these empty words were once themselves full words, the
meanings of which gradually became obscured, until they
acquired a purely arbitrary use for the purpose of defining the
sense in which other words were to be understood — just as
our word " like," in its degenerated form of " ly," is now
employed to give adjectives the force of adverbs ; although, of
course, there is the difference that in isolating tongues the
empty or defining words are not fused into the full ones, but
themselves remain isolated. In the opinion of many philo-
logists, however, " the use of accessory words, in order to
impart the required precision to the principal terms, is the
path that leads from monosyllabic to the agglutinative
state." *

This Agglutinative, or, as it is sometimes called, Agglo-
merative state belongs to languages of the second order. Here
the words which serve the purpose of modifying constants,
or marks of relationship, become fusible with the words which
they serve to modify or define, so as to constitute single
though polysyllabic compounds, as in the above example,
" un-cost-li-nessr I have already remarked that by long usage
many of these modifying constants have had their own
original meanings as independent words so completely
obscured as to baffle the researches of philologists.

If all our words had been formed on the type of this
example iin-cost-li-ness, English would have been an aggluti-
native language. But, as a matter of fact, English, like the
rest of the group to which it mainly belongs, has adopted the
device of inflecting many of its words (or, rather, has inherited
this device from some of its progenitors), and thus belongs to
the third order of languages which I have mentioned, namely,
the Inflective. Languages of this type are also often termed
Transpositive, because the words now admit of being shifted
about as to their relative positions in a sentence, without the
meaning being thereby affected. That is to say, relations
between words are now marked much less by s)ntax, and
* Ilovdacque, Science of Laiii^uage, English trans., p. 37.

248 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

much more by individual change. In languages of this kind
the principle of agglutination has been so perfected that
the original composition is more or less obscured, and the
resulting words therefore admit of being themselves twisted
into a variety of shapes significant of finer grades of meaning,
in the way of declension, conjugation, &:c. Or, to state the
case as it has been stated by some philologists, in agglutina-
tive tongues the welded elements are not sufficiently welded
to admit of flexion : they are too loosely joined together, or
still too independent one of another. But when the union
has grown more intimate, the structure allows of more artistic
treatment at the hands of language-makers : the " amalgama-
tion " of elements having become complete, the resulting alloy
can be manipulated in a variety of ways without involving its
disintegration. Moreover, this principle of inflection may
extend from the component parts to the root itself; not only
suffixes and prefixes, but even the word which these modify,
may undergo inflectional change. So that, upon the whole,
the best general idea of these various types of language-
structure may perhaps be given by the following formulae,
which I take from Hovelacque.*

In the isolating type the formula of a word is simply R,
and that of a sentence R-f-R-{-R, &c., where R stands for
" root." If we represent by r those roots whose sense has
become obscured so as to pass into the state of prefixes and
suffixes significant only of relationship between other words,
we shall have a formula of agglutination, Rr, Rrr, rR, rRr,
&c. Lastly, the essence of an inflecting language consists in
the power of a root to express, by modification of its own
form, its various relations to other roots. Not that the roots
of all words are necessarily modified ; for they often remain
as they do in agglutinating tongues. But they may be
modified, and " languages in which relations may be thus
expressed, not only by sufiixes and prefixes, but also by a

* 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.

COMPARATIVE PHILOLOGY. 249

modification of the form of the roots, are inflectional
languages." Therefore, if we represent this power of inflec-
tional change on the part of the root itself by the symbol ^,
the agglutinating formula Rr may become R'^r. IMoreover,
the modifying elements may also be inflected, words thus
yielding such formulae as Rr'', Rrr^, &c.

Such, then, are the three main groups or orders of
language. But in addition to them we must notice three
others, which have been shown to be clearly separable.
These three additional groups are the Polysynthetic, the
Incorporating, and the Analytic.

The PoIysyntJietic (^ = Incapsulating) order is found among
certain savages, especially on the continent of America, where,
according to Duponceau, more or less distinctive adherence
to this type is to be met with from Greenland to Chili. The
peculiarity of such languages consists in the indefinite
composition of words by syncope and ellipsis. That is to say,
sentences are formed by the running together of compound
words of inordinate length, and in the process of fusion the
constituent words are so much abbreviated as often to be
represented by no more than a single intercalated letter. For
example, the Greenland aiUisariartorasuarpok, " he-hastened-
to-go-afishing," is made up oi aiilisar,"io ^s\\" peartoi^, "to
be engaged in anything," pinnesiiarpok, " he hastens : " and
the Chippeway totoccabo, "wine," is formed of toto, "milk,"
with chominabo, " a bunch of grapes." Thus, polysynthesis
consists of fusion with contraction, some of the component
words losing their first, and others their last syllables. More-
over, composition of this kind further differs from that which
occurs in many other types of language {e.g. our adjectival
jievei'-io-be-forgoiien), in that the constituent parts may nc\'er
have attained the rank of independent words, which can be
set apart and employed by themselves.

The Ijicorporaliiig order is merely a subdivision of the
agglutinative, and represents an earlier stage of it, wherein
the speakers had not yet begun to analyze their sentences,
and so still retain in their sentences subordinate words in

250 MENTAL EVOLUTION LY MAN.

cumbersome variety, as, for example, " Housc-I-it-built ; "
" Thcy-have-them-their-books."

Again, the Ajialytic order is merely a subdivision of the
inflectional, and represents a later stage of it. "One by one
the grammatical relations implied in an inflectional compound
are brought out into full relief, and provided with special
forms in which to be expressed." Thus, in English, for
example, inflections have largely given place to the use of
" auxiliary " v\-ords, whereby most of the advantages of refined
distinction are retained, while the machinery of expression is
considerably simplified.

So that, on the whole, we may classify the Language-
kingdom thus : —

Order I. Isolating.

Order II. Agglutinative : (Sub-orders, Polysynthetic and
Incorporating).

Order III. Inflectional : (Sub-order, Analytic).

In the opinion of some philologists, however, the Polysyn-
thetic type deserves to be regarded, not as a sub-order of the
Agglutinative, but as itself independent of all the other three,
and therefore constituting a fourth order. Thus, on the one
hand, we have it said that polysynthetic languages must
" simply be placed last in the ascending order of the
agglutinating series ; " * while, on the other hand, it is said,
" the conception of the sentence that underlies the polysyn-
thetic dialects is the precise converse of that which underlies
the isolating or the agglutinative types ; the several ideas
into which the sentence may be analyzed, instead of being
made equal or independent, are combined, like a piece of
mosaic, into a single whole."!

These two representative quotations may serve to show
how accentuated is the difference of teaching with regard to
this particular group of languages. As a mere matter of
classification, of course, the question would not be of any
importance for us ; but as the question of classification

* Hovelacque, loc. cit., p. 130.
t Sayce, IntJvJuction, iS~(., i. 126.

COMPARATIVE PHILOLOGY. 25 I

involves one of phylogeny, the matter does acquire con-
siderable interest in relation to our subject.

Turning, then, from the classification of language-types to
their phylogeny, no one disputes that what I have called the
sub-order Incorporating is genetically connected with the
order Agglutinative ; or that the sub-order Analytic is
similarly connected with the order Inflectional. Indeed,
these sub-orders are merely branches of these two respective
trunks. The question before us, therefore, reduces itself to
the relations between the three orders inter se, and also
between the polysynthetic type and Order II. I will deal
with these two cases separately.

On the one hand it is argued that the isolating, monosyl-
labic, or " nursery " type of speech must be regarded as the
most primitive — in fact, that it presents to actual observation
the continued "survival" of that embryonic or "radical"
stage of development out of which all the subsequent growths
of language have arisen. Again, the proved fact of agglutina-
tion is seen to represent a long course of development, wherein
words previously isolated were run together into compounds
for the purpose of securing that higher differentiation of
lano-uage-growth which we know as parts of speech. Simi-
larly, the inflectional stage is taken to have been a further
elaboration of the agglutinative, in the manner already ex-
plained ; while, lastly, the use of auxiliary words in analytic
tongues is regarded as the final consummation of language-
growth.

The theory thus briefly sketched is still maintained by
many philologists ; and, indeed, in some of its parts is not a
theory at all, but a matter of demonstrable fact. Thus, it is
manifestly impossible that the phenomena of agglutination
can be presented before there are elements to agglutinate :
these elements, therefore, must have preceded that process of
fusion wherein the " genius " of agglutinated speech consists.
Similarly, of course, agglutination must have preceded the
inflection of already agglutinated words ; while the use of

^3-

MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX

auxiliaries can be proved to have been historically subsequent
to inflection. Nevertheless, other philologists have shown
good ground for questioning our right to regard these facts
as justifying so universal a theory as that the law of language-
growth is always to be found in these particular lines, or that
all languages of one type must have passed through the lower
phase, or phases, before reaching that in which they now
appear. The most recent argument on this side of the
question is by Professor Sayce, whom, therefore, I will
quote.

" We are apt to assume that inflectional languages are
more highly advanced than agglutinative ones, and agglutina-
tive languages than isolating ones, and hence that isolation is
the lowest stage of the three, at the top of which stands
flection. But what we really mean when we say that one
language is more advanced than another, is that it is better
adapted to express thought, and that the thought to be
expressed is itself better. Now, it is a grave question whether
from this point of view the three classes of language can
really be set the one against the other." *

He then proceeds to argue that isolating languages have
an advantage over all other forms in " the attainment of
terseness and vividness ; " that " the agglutinative languages
are in advance of the inflectional in one important point, that,
namely, of analyzing the sentence into its component parts,
and distinguishing the relations of grammar one from another.
... In fact, when we examine closely the principle upon
which flection rests, we shall find that it implies an inferior
logical faculty to that implied by agglutination." f

Elsewhere he says, " As for the primeval root-language,
we have no proof that it ever existed, and to confound it with
a modern isolating language is simply erroneous. Equally
unproved is the belief that isolating languages develop into
agglutinative, and agglutinative into inflectional. At all
events, the continued existence of isolating tongues like the

* Introduction, o^f., vol. i., p. 374.
t Ibid., vol. i., pp. 375, 376.

COMPARATIVE FHILOLOGY. 253

Chinese, or of agglutinative like the Magyar and Turkish,
shows that the development is not a necessary one." *

I could quote other passages to the same effect ; but the
above are sufficient to show that wc must not unreservedly
accept the earlier doctrines previously sketched. There is,
indeed, no question about the fact of language-growth as
regards particular languages ; the question here is as to the
evolution of language-types one from another. And I have
given prominence to this question in order to make the
following remarks upon it.

When we are told that "the continued existence of iso-
lating tongues like the Chinese, or of agglutinative tongues like
the Magyar and Turkish, shows that the development is not
a necessary one," we of course at once perceive the unquestion-
able truth of the statement. But the fact is without relevance
to the only question in debate. The continued existence of
the Protozoa unquestionably proves that their development
into the Metazoa is not necessary ; but this fact raises no pre-
sumption at all against the doctrine that all the Metazoa have
been evolved from the Protozoa.

Similarly, when we are told that " what we really mean
when we say that one language is more advanced than
another, is that it is better adapted to express thought," we
are again being shunted from the question. The question is
whether one type of language-structure develops into another :
not whether, when developed, it is ''more advanced" than
another in the sense of being " better adapted to express
thought." This it may or may not be ; but in cither case the
question of its efficiency as a language has no necessary
connection with the question of its development as a language
For it may very well be that from the same origin two or
more lines of development may occur in different directions.
It is doubtless perfectly true, as Professor Sayce says, that
modern Chinese is a higher product of evolution than ancient
Chinese along the line of isolating condensation ; but this is

* Ibid., \). 120. See also lii.s J'rincif/cs of Coniparalive J'/ii/o/ogy, 2inl ctl.,
p. ix.

254 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

no proof that the agglutinative languages did not start from
an isolating type, and thereafter proceed on a different line
of development in accordance with their different "genius,"
or method of growth. Naturalists entertain no doubt that
two different types of morphological structure, b and /3, are
both descended from a common parent form B, even though
/; has "advanced" in one line of change and /3 in another, so
that both are now equally efficient from a morphological
point of view. Why, then, should a philologist dispute genetic
relationship in what appears to be a precisely analogous case,
on the sole ground that b is, to his thinking, no less psycho-
logically efficient a language than /3 ?

Lastly, as I have before indicated, it appears to me
impossible to dispute that every agglutinative language, in
whatever measure it can be proved to be agglutinative, in
that measure is thereby proved to have been derived from a
language less agglutinative, and therefore more isolating.
And, similarly, in whatever measure an inflective language
can be proved to inflect its agglutinated words, in that
measure is it thereby proved to have been derived from a
language less inflective, or a language whose agglutinations
had not yet undergone so much of the inflective modification.

On the other hand, as there is no necessary reason why an
isolating language should develop into an agglutinative, or an
agglutinative into an inflectional, it may very well be that the
higher evolution of isolating tongues has proceeded collaterally
with that of agglutinative, while the higher evolution of agglu-
tinative has proceeded collaterally with that of inflectional.
If this were so, both the schools of philology which we are
considering would be equally right, and equally wrong: each
would represent a different side of the same truth.

Thus it appears to me that, so far as the purposes of the
present treatise are concerned, we may neglect the question
of phylogenesis as between these three orders of languages.
For, so long as it is on all hands agreed that the principles
of evolution are universally concerned in the genesis of every
language, it will make no difference to my future argument

COMPARATIVE PHILOLOGY. 255

whether these principles have obtained in one or in more
lines of development. There can be no reasonable doubt
that in some greater or less degree the three orders are
connected : in what precise degree this connection obtains is
doubtless a question of high importance to the science of
philology : it is of scarcely any importance to the problems
which we shall presently have to consider.

But the issue touching the relation between the poly-
synthetic and other types of language is of more importance
for us, inasmuch as it involves the question whether or not
we have here to do with the most primitive type of language.
In the opinion of some philologists, "these polysynthetic
languages are an interesting survival of the early condition of
language everywhere, and are but a fresh proof that America
is in truth 'the new world :' primitive forms of speech that
have elsewhere perished long ago still survive there, like the
armadillo, to bear record of a bygone past." * On the other
hand, it is with equal certainty affirmed that "polysynthesis
is not a primitive feature, but an expansion, or, if you will, a
second phase of agglutination." f

Of course in dealing with this issue I can only do so as
an amateur, quite destitute of authority in matters pertaining
to philology ; but the points on which I am about to speak
have reference to principles so general, that in trying them
the lay mind may not be without its uses in the jury-box.
IMoreover, philologists themselves are at present so ill-
informed touching the facts of polysynthetic language, that
there is less presumption here than elsewhere in any outsider
offering his opinion upon the matters in dispute.| It is

* Sayce, Introduction, ^c, i., 125, 126.

t Ilovelacque, Science of Language, p. 130.

t " 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 con-
nection 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 polysyntlielism,
down to the lowest, an<l even to its entire absence. Such being the case, it ought
to be evident that all attempts to connect American languages as a body wilh

256 MENTAL EVOLUTION IX MAN.

however, undesirable to occupy space with any tedious
rehearsal of the facts on which, after reading the more
important literature of the subject, my judg^mcnt is based.
For what it is worth, this judgment is as follows.

In the first place, it appears to me that those experts have
an overwhelmingly strong case who argue in favour of the
polysynthetic languages as presenting a highly primitive
form of speech. Indeed, so undifferentiated do I think they
prove this type of language-structure to be, that I agree with
them in concluding that it probably brings us nearer "the
origin of speech " than any other type now extant. Further-
more, looking to the wide contrast between this type and
that which is presented by the isolating tongues, it appears
to me impossible that the one can be genetically connected
with the other. For it appears to me that the experts on the
opposite side have no less completely proved, that the
isolating tongues also present evidence of a highly primitive
origin ; and, therefore, that whatever amount of evolution
and subsequent degeneration (" phonetic decay ") the Chinese
language, for instance, may be proved to have undergone,
this only goes to show that it has throughout remained true
to the isolating principle — just as the Protozoa, through all
their long history of evolution, have remained true to their
" isolating " type, notwithstanding that some of their branches
must long ago have given origin to the "agglutinated"
INIetazoa. In other words, it appears to me that the experts
on this side of the question have been able to place the
isolating type of speech on as low a level of development —
and, therefore, presumably on as high a level of antiquity — as
experts on the other side have been able to claim for the
polysynthetic.

If I am right in this opinion, it follows that there must
have been at least two points of origin from which all
existing languages arose — or rather, let me say, at least two

languages of the Old World are, and must be, fruitless : in fact, all discussions of
the matter are at present unscientific '' (Professor Whitney in Encyci. Brit., art.
"Philology," 1885).

COMPARATIVE FN I LO LOGY. 257

t\-pes of language-formation upon which the earliest materials
of speech were moulded. For even the strongest advocates
of the polysynthetic origin of speech do not venture to
question the highly primitive nature of the monos}'llabic
type. Thus, for instance, Professor Sayce is the principal
upholder of the polysynthetic view, and yet he quotes the
isolating forms of Chinese and Taic as furnishing " excellent
illustrations of the early days of speech ; " * and he adduces
them as " examples from the far East to show us the way in
which our words first came into existence." f But if this is
allowed to be so even by the leading advocate of the poly-
synthetic view, I cannot conceive the possibility of the one
type having become so completely transformed into the other
as to have left no trace in the isolating type of its poly-
synthetic origin. For, in view of the above admissions, we
are left to conclude that the transformation must have taken
place soon after the birth of language in any form — notwith-
standing that, as Professor Sayce elsewhere insists (in the
passage already quoted), " the conception of the sentence
which underlies the polysynthetic dialects is the precise
converse of that which underlies the isolating or the
agglutinative type."

In view of these statements, therefore, by Professor Sayce
himself, I do not think it is necessary for me to go further in
justification of the opinion already expressed — namely, that
we must recognize at least two types of language-formation
upon which the earliest materials of speech were moulded.
It is probable enough that both these types of language-
formation were independently originated in many parts of
the earth's surface at different times ; and it is possible that
yet other types may have arisen, which are now either
extinct, or fused with some of the later developments of the
two which have survived. But, be these things as they may,
I believe that both the schools of philology which we are
considering have made out their respective cases ; and, thcre-

• Introduclion, C^c, i. 120.
t Ibid., i. 116.

2 5<S MENTAL EVOLUTION LV MAN.

fore, that they both err in so often assuming that these cases
arc mutually exclusive.

It will thus be apparent that I am altogether in favour of
the polyphylectic theory of language-development. Even if
it were not for the specially philological considerations just
adduced, on grounds of merely general reasoning it would
appear to me much more probable that so useful a sociological
instrument as that of articulate sign-making should have been
evolved from the sign-making of tone and gesture, wherever
the psychological powers of mankind were far enough
advanced to admit of the evolution. And, if this is so, it
clearly becomes probable that any aboriginal races which
were geographically separated v/ould have slowly and
independently elaborated their primitive forms of utterance —
supposing, of course, that mankind had become segregated
while still in the speechless state, which, as I will subsequently
explain, seems to me the most probable supposition. And, if
this were the case, it appears to me highly improbable that
languages which originated and developed independently of
one another should all have been under the necessity of
starting either on the monosyllabic, the polysynthetic, or any
other type exclusively. That the existing languages of the
earth did originate in more than one centre is now the almost
universal belief of competent authorities.* But too many of
these authorities are still bound by what appears to me the
wholly gratuitous and highly improbable assumption, that
although various languages thus originated in different
centres, they must all have been born with an exact family
resemblance to one another, so far as type or "genius" is

* " 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 primaeval centres or com-
munities in which language took its rise" (Sayce, Introduction, o^c, ii. 323).

COMPARATIVE PHILOLOGY. 259

concerned. But there is no basis for such an assumption,
either in the physiology or the psychology of mankind. On
the contrary, if we look to the nearest analogue of the case,
namely, the growing child, we may find abundant evidence of
the fact that the earliest attempts at articulate utterance may
occur on different types, as we saw so strikingly proved by
quotations from Dr. Hale in a previous chapter.

In this connection I would like to conclude the present
chapter by giving prominence to an interesting and ingenious
hypothesis, which has been suggested by Dr. Hale on the
basis of the facts just alluded to.

In order that the merits of this suggestion may be
appreciated, it is desirable to remind the reader that the
languages now spoken by the native tribes of the American
continent present so many and such radical differences
among themselves, that, with regard to a large proportion of
them, philologists are unable so much as to suggest any
philological classification. Thus, to quote Professor Whitney,
" as regards the material of expression, it is fully confessed
that there is irreconcilable diversity among them. There are
a very considerable number of groups, between whose
significant signs exist no more apparent correspondencies
than between those of English, Hungarian, and Malay ; none,
namely, which may not be merely fortuitous." * And, what
is most curious, these immense differences may obtain
between neighbouring tribes who are to all appearance
cthnologically identical — as, for instance, the Algonkin,
Iroquois, and Dakota groups. Moreover, this diversity of
language-structure in some cases goes so far as to reach the
very roots of language-growth ; " the polysynthetic structure
does not belong in the same degree to all American
languages : on the contrary, it seems to be altogether effaced,
or originally wanting, in some." f Nay, even the isolating
type of language has gained a footing, and this in its properly
monosyllabic and uninflective form.

* Life and Cron'th of Lauguaj^e, p. 259. t //'/'/., p. 2O2.

26o MENTAL EVOLUTION IN Jl/AN.

Such being the state of matters on tlie American conti-
nent (and also, though to a lesser extent, in the Southern
parts of the African), Dr. Hale suggests the following hypo-
thesis by way of explanation. To me it certainly appears a
plausible one, and if it should eventually be found to furnish
a key for unlocking the mysteries of language-growth in the
New World, it would obviously become available as a suffi-
cient explanation of radical diversities of language elsewhere.

Starting from the facts which I have already quoted from
his paper at the close of my chapter on Articulation, he
argues that if children will thus spontaneously devise a
language of their own in a wholly arbitrary manner, even
Mhen surrounded by the spoken language of a civilized
community, much more would children be likely to do this if
they should be accidentally separated from human societ}',
and thus thrown upon their own resources in an isolated
condition. Now, "if, under such circumstances, disease or the
casualties of a hunter's life should carry off the parents, the
survival of the children would, it is evident, depend mainly
upon the nature of the climate and the ease with which food
could be procured at all seasons of the year. In ancient
Europe, after the present climatical conditions were estab-
lished, it is doubtful if a family of children under ten years of
age could have lived through a single winter. We are not,
therefore, surprised to find that no more than four or five
linguistic stocks are represented in Europe, and that all of
them, except the Basque, are believed, on good evidence, to
have been of comparatively late introduction. Even the
Basque is traced by some, with much probability, to a source
in North Africa. Of Northern America, east of the Rocky
Mountains and north of the tropics, the same may be said.
The climate and the scarcity of food in winter forbid us to
suppose that a brood of orphan children could have survived,
except possibly, by a fortunate chance, in some favoured spot
on the shore of the Mexican Gulf, where shell-fish, berries,
and edible roots are abundant and easy of access.

" But there is one region where Nature seems to offer her-

COMPARATIVE PHILOLOGY. 26 1

self as the willing nurse and bountiful step-mother of the
feeble and unprotected. Of all countries on the globe, there
is probably not one in which a little flock of very young
children would find the means of sustaining existence more
readily than in California, Its wonderful climate, mild and
equable beyond example, is well known. Mr. Cronise, in his
volume on the ' Natural Wealth of California,' tells us, that
' the monthly mean of the thermometer at San Francisco
in December, the coldest month, is 50° ; in September, the
warmest month, 61°.' And he adds: — 'Although the State
reaches to the latitude of Plymouth Bay on the north,
the climate, for its whole length, is as mild as that of
the regions near the topics. Half the months are rainless.
Snow and ice are almost strangers, except in the high
altitudes. There are fully two hundred cloudless days in
every year, Roses bloom in the open air through all sea-
sons.' Not less remarkable than this exquisite climate is the
astonishing variety of food, of kinds which seem to offer
themselves to the tender hands of children. Berries of
many sorts — strawberries, blackberries, currants, raspberries,
and salmon-berries — are indigenous and abundant. Large
fruits and edible nuts on low and pendent boughs may be
said, in Milton's phrase, to 'hang amiable.' Mr. Cronise
enumerates, among others, the wild cherry and plum, which
'grow on bushes;' the barberry, or false grape {Berber is
herbosd), a 'low shrub,' which bears edible fruit; and the
Californian horse-chestnut {^sailtcs Californcia), ' a low,
spreading tree or shrub, seldom exceeding fifteen feet high,'
which ' bears abundant fruit much used by the Indians.'
Then there are nutritious roots of various kinds, maturing at
different seasons. Fish swarm in the rivers, and are taken by
the simplest means. In the spring, Mr. Powers informs us,
the whitefish ' crowd the creeks in such vast numbers that the
Indians, by simply throwing in a little brushwood to impede
their motion, can literally scoop them out.' Shell-fish and
grubs abound, and arc greedily eaten by the natives. Earth-
worms, which arc found everywhere and at all seasons, arc a

262 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

favourite article of diet. As to clothing, we are told by the
authority just cited that ' on the plains all adult males and
all children up to ten or twelve went perfectly naked, while
the women wore only a narrow strip of deer-skin around the
waist,' Need we wonder that, in such a mild and fruitful
region, a great number of separate tribes were found, speak-
ing languages which a careful investigation has classed in
nineteen distinct linguistic stocks ?

" The climate of the Oregon coast region, though colder
than that of California, is still far milder and more equable
than that of the same latitude in the east ; and the abundance
of edible fruits, roots, river-fish, and other food of easy attain-
ment, is very great. A family of young children, if one of
them were old enough to take care of the rest, could easily
be reared to maturity in a sheltered nook of this genial and
fruitful land. We are not, therefore, surprised to find that
the number of linguistic stocks in this narrow district, though
less than in California, is more than twice as large as in the
whole of Europe, and that the greater portion of these stocks
are clustered near the Californian boundary. . . .

"Some reminiscences of the parental speech would probably
remain with the older children, and be revived and
strengthened as their faculties gained force. Thus we may
account for the fact, which has perplexed all inquirers, that
certain unexpected and sporadic resemblances, both in gram-
mar and in vocabulary, which can hardly be deemed purely
accidental, sometimes crop up between the most dissimilar
languages. . . .

"A glance at other linguistic provinces will show how
aptly this explanation of the origin of language-stocks every-
where applies. Tropical Brazil is a region which combines
perpetual summer with a profusion of edible fruits and other
varieties of food, not less abundant than in California. Here,
if anywhere, there should be a great number of totally
distinct languages. We learn on the best authority, that of
Baron J. J. von Tschudi, in the Introduction to his recent
work on the Khetshua Language, that this is the fact. He

COMPARATIVE PHILOLOGY. 263

says : — ' I possess a collection made by the well-known natu ■
ralist, J. Natterer, during his residence of many years in
Brazil, 'of more than a hundred languages, lexically com-
pletely distinct, from the interior of Brazil,' And he adds :
— ' The number of so-called isolated languages — that is,
of such as, according to our present information, show no
relationship to any other, and which therefore form distinct
stocks of greater or less extent — is in South America very
large, and must, on an approximate estimate, amount to
many hundreds. It will perhaps be possible hereafter to
include many of them in larger families, but there must still
remain a considerable number for which this will not be
possible.' "

I have quoted this hypothesis, as previously remarked,
because it appears to me philologically interesting ; but what-
ever may be thought of it by professional authorities, the
evidence which the American continent furnishes of a poly-
genetic and polytypic origin of the native languages remains
the same. And if there is good reason for concluding in
favour of polygenetic origins of different types as regards the
languages on that continent, of course the probability arises
that radical differences of structure among languages of the
Old World admit of being explained by their having been
derived from similarly independent sources.*

* I may add that the hypothesis admits of corrol^oration from sources not men-
tioned 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 li>igiia fra7ica, 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 paising 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.

264 MEXTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX.

CHAPTER XIII.

ROOTS OF LANGUAGE.

In the last chapter my treatment of the classification and
phylogeny of languages may have led the general reader to
feel that philologists display extraordinary differences of
opinion with regard to certain first principles of their science.
I may, therefore, begin the present chapter by reminding such
a reader that I have hitherto been concerned more with the
differences of opinion than with the agreements. If one takes
a general view of the progress of philological science since
philology — almost in our own generation — first became a
science, I think he must feel much more impressed by the
amount of certainty which has been attained than by the
amount of uncertainty which still remains. And tlie
uncertainty which does remain is due rather to a backward-
ness of study than to diftcrences of interpretation. When
more is known about the structure and mutual relations of
the polysynthctic tongues, it is probable that a better
agreement will be arrived at touching the relation of their
common type to that of isolating tongues on the one hand,
and agglutinating on the other. But, be this as it may, even
as matters stand at present, I think we have more reason
to be surprised at the certainty which already attaches to
the principles of philology, than at the uncertainty which
occasionally arises in their applications to the comparatively
unstudied branches of linguistic growth.

Furthermore, important as these still unsettled questions
are from a purely philological point of view, they are not of

'roots of language. 26^

any great moment from that of the evolutionist, as I have
already observed. For, so long as it is universally agreed
that all the language-groups have been products of a gradual
development, it is, comparatively speaking, immaterial
whether the groups all stand to one another in a relation of
serial descent, or whether some of them stand to others in
a relation of collateral descent. That is to say, the evolu-
tionist is under no obligation to espouse either the monotypic
or the polytypic theory of the origin of language. There-
fore, it will make no material difference to the following
discussion whether the reader feels disposed to follow the
doctrine, that all languages must have originated in such
monosyllabic isolations as we now meet with in a radical
form of speech like the Chinese ; that they all originated in
such polysynthetic incapsulations as we now find in the
numberless dialects of the American Indians ; or, lastly, and
as I myself think much more probably, that both these,
and possibly other types of language-structure, are all equally
primitive. Be these things as they may, my discussion
will not be overshadowed by their uncertainty. For this
uncertainty has reference only to the origin of the existing
language-types as independent or genetically allied : it in no
way aftects the certainty of their subsequent evolution. Much
as philologists may still differ upon the mutual relations of
these several language-types, they all agree that " von dcr
ersten Entstehung der Sprachwurzeln an bis zur Bildung
der volkommenen Flcxionssprachen, wie des Sanskrit,
Griechischen, oder Deutschen, ist Alles in der Entwicklung
der Sprache verstandlich . . . Sobald nur die Wurzeln als
die fcrtigen Bausteine der Sprache einmal da sind, lasst sich
Schritt fur Schritt das Wachsthum des Sprachgebaudcs
verfolgen." *

Therefore, having now said all that seems necessary to
say on the question of language-types, I will pass on to
consider the information that we possess on the subject of
language-roots.

* Wuiiilt, J'or/c-sinigcn, d-^r., ii., 3S0, 3S1.

266 MENTAL EVOLUTIO.V IN MAN.

First, let us consider the number of roots out of which
hmguagcs are developed — or, rather, let me say, the number
of elementary constituents into which the researches of
philologists have been able to reduce those languages which
have been most closely studied. Of course the probability
— nay, the certainty — is that the actual number of roots must
in all cases be considerably less than philologists are now
able to prove.

Chinese is composed of about five hundred separate words,
each being a monosyllable. In actual use, these five hundred
root-words are multiplied to over fifteen hundred by
significant variety of intonation ; but the entire structure of
this still living language is made up of five hundred mono-
syllabic words. In the opinion of most philologists we have
here a survival of the root stage of language ; but in the
opinion of some we have the remnants of erosion, or " pho-
netic decay." * This difference of opinion, however, is not
a matter of importance to us ; and therefore I will not discuss
it, further than to say that on account of it I will not here-
after draw upon the Chinese language for illustrations of
"radical" utterance, except in so far as philologists of all
schools would allow as legitimate.f

Hebrew has been reduced to about the same number of
roots as Chinese — Renan stating it in round numbers at five
hundred, t But without doubt this number would admit of
being consideraly reduced, if inquiries were sufficiently
extended to the whole Semitic family.

According to Professor Skeat, English is entirely made
up of 461 Aryan roots, in combination with about twenty
modifying constants. § The remote progenitor, Sanskrit, has

* Sayce, Introduction to Science of Language, ii. 13.

t 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 "polysenthctic genius."

X Ilis/oire des Laugiies Seviitique, p. 1 38.

§ Elymolo^ical Dictionary, p. 746,

ROOTS OF LANGUAGE. 267

been estimated to present as many as 850 roots, or, accord-
ing to Benfey, just about twice that number.* On the other
hand, Max Muller, as a result of more recent researches,
professes to have reduced the total number of Sanskrit roots
to I2I.t

It is needless to give further instances. For these are
enough to show that, even if we w^ere to regard the analytic
powers of comparative philology as adequate to resolve all
the compounds of a language into its primitive elements
the estimate of Pott would probably be high above the mark,
when he states that on an average the roots of a language
may be taken at a thousand.^ Seeing that Chinese only
contains in its whole vocabulary half that number of words,
and that both Hebrew and English have similarly yielded
each about five hundred radicals in the crucible of more
modern research, I think we may safely reduce the general
estimate of Pott by one-half, and probably would be nearer
the truth if we were to do so by three-quarters, or more. At
all events, we may be satisfied that the total number of
radicals sufficient to feed the most luxuriant of languages is
expressible in three figures ; and this, as we shall presently
see, is enough for all the purposes of my subsequent discussion.

Passing on now from the question of number to that of
character, we have first to meet the question — What are these
roots .-* Are they the actually primitive words of pre-historic
languages, or are they what Max Muller has aptly termed
" phonetic types " .-* Here again we encounter a difference of
opinion among philologists. Thus, for instance. Professor
Whitney tells us that the Indo-European languages are all
descended from an original monosyllabic tongue, and, there-
fore, that " our ancestors talked with one another in simple
syllables, indicative of ideas of prime importance, but wanting
all designation of their relations." § On the other hand, it is

* See Max Miiller, Science of Thought, p. 332.
t Ibid., p. 404.

X Eihmologische Forschurigen, ii. , s. 73, et seq. He here (luotcs Varro to llic
effect that the roots of Latin amount to about a thousand.
§ Language and the Sluily 0/ Lan:;uage, p. 256.

26S MEXTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX.

objected to this view that " such a language is a sheer
impossibility ;" * that " there could be no hope of any mutual
understanding " with a language restricted to such isolated
and general terms, &c. f On this side of the question it is
represented that " roots are the phonetic and significant types
discovered by the analysis of the comparative philologist as
common to a group of allied words ;" J that " a root is the
core of a group of allied words," § " the naked kernel of a
family of words." || Or, to adopt a simile previously used in
another connection, we may say that a root as now presented
by the philologist is a composite photograph {or phonogram)
of a number of words, all belonging to the same pre-historic
language, and all closel}' allied in meaning.

The difference of authoritative teaching thus exhibited is
not a matter of much importance for us. Nor, indeed, as we
shall subsequently see, is it a difference so great as may at
first sight appear. For even the phonetic-type theory does
not doubt that all the aboriginal and unknown words, out of
the composition of which a root is now extracted, must have
been genetically allied with one another, and exhibited the
closeness of their kinship by a close similarity of sound.
Therefore, it does not make any practical difference w^hether
we regard a root as itself a primitive word, which was used in
some such way as the Chinese now use their monosyllabic
terms ; or whether we regard it as a generalized expression of
a group of cognate words, all closely allied as to meaning. In
fact, even so strong an adherent of the phonetic-type theory as
Professor Alax Mliller very clearly states this, where he says
that, although " the mere root, giid root, may be denied the
dignity of a word, as soon as a root is used for predication it
becomes a word, whether outwardly it is changed or not." ^

Seeing, then, that this difference of opinion among philo-

* Sayce, Introduction to the Science of Language, ii., p. 4.

t Geiger, U7-sprung der Sprache, s. 16,

% Sayce, loc. cit. , ii. p. 6.

§ Wedgwood, E^itymol. Diet., p. iii.

II Farrar, Origin of Language, p. 53.

\ Science of Ihought, p. 439.

ROOTS OF LAXGUAGE.

269

legists is not one of great importance for us, I will henceforth
disregard it. And, as it will be conducive to breYit}% if not
also to clearness, I will speak of roots as archaic words,
although by so doing I shall not intend to assume that they
are more than phonetic types, or the nearest approach we
can make to the words out of which they were generated.

We may next consider the kind of meanings which roots
convey. Antecedently we might form various anticipations
on this head, such as that they should be imitative of natural
sounds, expressive of concrete ideas, and so forth. As a
matter of fact, we find that they are not expressive of natural
sounds; but, as far as we have now any means of judging,
quite arbitrary. Moreover, they are not expressive of
concrete or particular ideas ; but always of abstract or
general. Here, then, to begin with, we have two facts of
apparently great importance. And they are both facts
which, at first sight, seem to countenance the view that, in its
last resort, comparative philology fails to testify to the
natural origin of speech. But we must look into the matter
more closely, and, in order to do this most fairly, I will quote
from Professor Max Muller the 12 1 roots into which he
analyzes the Sanskrit language. This is the language which
has been most carefully studied in the present connection,
and of all its students Professor Max Muller is least open
to any suspicion of inclining to the side of " Darwinism."
The following is a list of what he calls "the 121 original
concepts."

1. Dig.

2. Plat, weave, sew, bind.

3. Crush, pound, destroy, waste,

rub, smooth.

4. Sharpen.

5. Smear, colour, knead, harden.

6. Scratch.

7. Bite, eat.

8. Divide, share, eat.

9. Cut.

10. Gather, observe.

11. Stretch, spread.

12. Mix.

13. Scatter, strew.

14. Sprinkle, drip, wet.

15a. Shake, tremble, quiver,

flicker.
15b. Shake, mentally, be angry,

abashed, fearluliy, etc.

16. Throw down, fall.

17. Fall to pieces.

18. Shoot, throw at.

19. Pierce, split.

20. Join, fight, check.

270

MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

21.

Tear.

65.

Bear, carry.

'^'^.

Break, smash.

66.

Can, be strong.

23-

IMeasure.

67.

Show.

24.

Blow.

68.

Touch.

25.

Kindle.

69.

'Strike.

26.

Milk, yield.

70.

Ask.

27.

Pour, flow, rush.

71-

Watch, observe.

28.

Separate, free, leave, lack.

72.

Lead.

29.

Glean.

73-

Set.

30-

Choose.

74-

Hold, wield.

31-

Cook, roast, boil.

75-

Give, yield.

32.

Clean.

76.

Cough.

33-

Wash.

n-

Thirsty, dry.

34-

Bend, bow.

78.

Hunger.

35-

Turn, roll.

79-

Yawn.

36.

Press, fix.

80.

Spue.

yi-

Squeeze.

81.

Fly.

38.

Drive, thrust.

82.

Sleep.

39-

Push, stir, live.

83-

Bristle, dare.

40.

Burst, gush, laugh, beam.

84.

Be angry, harsh.

41.

Dress.

85.

Breathe.

42.

Adorn.

86.

Spea.

43-

Strip, remove.

87.

Seek.

44-

Steal.

88,

Hear.

45-

Check.

89.

Smell, sniff.

46.

Fill, thrive, swell, grow

90.

Sweat.

strong.

91.

Seethe, boil.

47-

Cross.

92.

Dance.

48.

Sweeten.

93-

Leap.

49.

Shorten.

94.

Creep.

50.

Thin, sufTer.

95-

Stumble.

51-

Fat, stick, love.

96.

Stick.

52.

Lick.

97-

Burn.

53-

Suck, nourish.

98.

Dwell.

54-

Drink, swell.

99.

Stand.

55-

Swallow, sip.

100.

Sink, lie, fail.

56.

Vomit.

lOI.

Swing.

57-

Chew, eat.

102.

Hang down, lean.

58.

Open, extend.

103.

Rise up, grow.

59-

Reach, strive, rule, have.

104.

Sit.

60.

Conquer, take by violence,

105.

Toil.

struggle.

106.

Weary, waste, slacken,

61.

Perform, succeed.

107.

Rejoice, please.

62.

Attack, hurt.

108.

Desire, love.

63-

Hide, drive.

109.

Wake.

64.

Cover, embrace.

no.

Fear.

KOOTS OF LANGUAGE. 2'Jl

111. Cool, refresh. 117. Run.

112. Stink. 118. Move, go.

113. Hate, 119a. Noise, inarticulate.

114. Know. 119b. Noise, musical.

115. Think. 1 20. Do.

116. Shine. 121. Be.

"These 121 concepts constitute the stock-in-trade with
which I maintain that every thought that has ever passed
through the mind of India, so far as it is known to us in its
literature, has been expressed. It would have been easy
to reduce that number still further, for there are several
among them which could be ranged together under more
general concepts. But I leave this further reduction to
others, being satisfied as a first attempt with having shown
how small a number of seeds may produce, and has
produced, the enormous intellectual vegetation that has
covered the soil of India from the most distant antiquity
to the present day." *

Now, the first thing which strikes one on reading this list
is, that it unquestionably justifies the inference of its compiler,
namely, " if the Science of Language has proved anything, it
has proved that every term which is applied to a particular idea
or object (unless it be a proper name) is already a general term."
But the next thing which immediately strikes one is that the
list, surprisingly short as it is, nevertheless is much too long to
admit of being interpreted as, in any intelligible sense of
the words, an inventory of " original concepts " — unless by
"original" we are to understand the ultimate results of
philological analysis. That all these concepts are not
" original " in the sense of representing the ideation of really
primitive man, is abundantly proved by two facts.

The first is that fully a third of the whole number might
be dispensed with, and yet leave no important blank in the
already limited resources of the list for the purposes either of
communication or reflection. To yawn, to spew, to vomit,
to sweat, and so on, are not forms of activity of any such

* Science of I'houi^h I, p. 549.

-/-

MENTAL EVOLUTJOX IX MAX.

vital importance to the needs of a primitive communit}', as to
demand priority of naming by any aboriginal framcrs of
language. Moreover, as Professor Max Miillcr himself else-
where observes, "even these 121 concepts might be reduced
to a much smaller number, if we cared to do so. Any one
who examines them carcfulh', will sec how easy it would
have been to express to dig by to cut or to strike ; to bite
by to cut or to crush ; to milk by to squeeze ; to glean by
to gather ; to steal b\- to lift. . . . If we see how many special
purposes can be served by one root, as /, to go, or Pas, to
fasten, the idea that a dozen of roots might have been made
to supply the whole wealth of our dictionary, appears in itself
by no means so ridiculous as is often supposed." *

Again, in the second place, a large proportional number
of the words have reference to a grade of culture already far
in advance of that which has been attained by most existing
savages. " Many concepts, such as to cook, to roast, to
measure, to dress, to adorn, belong clearly to a later phase of
civilized life." f It might have been suitably added that such
" concepts" as to dig, to plat, to milk, &c., betoken a condition
of pastoral life, which, as we know^ from abundant evidence,
is representative of a comparatively high level of social
evolution. + But if " many " of these concepts are thus

» Science of Thought, pp. 551, 552.

t Ibid.,'^^. 551, 552.

X "The Arj-an languages are ihe 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, &-=<-., 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

ROOTS OF LANGUAGE. 273

unmistakably referable to semi-civilized as distinguished
from savage life, what guarantee can we have that the
remainder are " original " ? Obviously we can have no such
guarantee ; but, on the contrary, find the very best, because
intrinsic evidence, that they belong to a more or less high
level of culture, far removed from that of primitive man.
In other words, we must conclude that these 121 concepts
are " original " only in the sense that they do not now
admit of further anal}-sis at the hands of comparative
philologists : they are not original in the sense of bringing us
within any measurable distance of the first beginnings of
articulate speech.*

Nevertheless, they are of the utmost value and significance,
in that they bring us down to a period of presumably
restricted ideation, as compared with the enormous develop-
ment since attained by various branches of this Indo-European
stock — so far, at least, as the growth of language can be
taken as a fair expression of such development. They are
likewise of the highest importance as showing in how
presumably short a period of time (comparatively speaking)
so immense and divergent a growth may proceed from such
a simple and germ-like condition of thoughtf Lastly, they
serve to show in a most striking manner that the ideas
represented, although all of a general character, are neverthe-
less of the lowest degree of generality. Scarcely any of them
present us with evidence of reflective thought, as distinguished
from the naming of objects of sense-perception, or of the

hundred; there is no general Indo-European word for 'thousand.' Some of llie
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.

* " UnsereWurzeln sind die Urwurzeln nicht ; wirhaben viellcicht, von keincr
einzigen die erste, urspriingliche Laut-form mehr vor uns, ebensowenig wohl die
Urbedeutung" (Geiger, Ursprung der Sprac/ie, s. 65). And this opinion, so far
as I know, is adopted as an axiom by all other philologists.

t " It is impossible to bring down the epoch at which the Aryan tribes still
lived in the same locality, and spoke ]Mactically the same language, to a date
much later than the third millennium before tiic Christian era" (Saycc, Introduc-
tion, crV., ii., p. 320).

T

274 MEXTAL EVOLUriOX IX MAX.

simplest forms of activity whicli arc immediately cognizable
as such.* In other words, few of these "original concepts"
rise much higher in the scale of ideation than the level to
which I have previously assigned what I have called "named
recepts " or " pre-concepts." A dumb animal, or an infant,
presents a full rcceptual appreciation of the majority of
actions which the catalogue includes ; and, therefore, so that
a society of human beings can speak at all (i.e. presents the
power of naming their recepts), it is difficult to see how they
could have avoided a denotation of the more important
recepts which are here concerned.

Another most interesting feature of a general kind which
the list presents is, that it is composed exclusively of verbs.f
This peculiarity of the ultimate known roots of all languages,
which shows them to have been expressive of actions and states
as distinguished from objects and qualities, is a peculiarity
on which Professor Max Muller lays much stress. But the
inference which he draws from the fact is clearly not justifiable.
This inference is that, as every root expresses " the conscious-
ness of repeated acts, such as scraping, digging, striking," &c.,
the naming of actions, as distinguished from objects, " must
be considered as the first step in the formation of concepts."
Now, in drawing this inference — and, indeed, throughout all
his works as far as I remember — Professor Max MUller has
entirely overlooked two most important considerations. First,
as already observed, that the roots in question are demonstrably
very far from having been the original material of language
as first coined by primitive man ; and, next, that whatever

* 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 " (Scioice 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.

t 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."

KOOl'S OF LANGUAGE. 2/5

tin's original material may have been, from the first there
must have been a struggle for existence among the really
primitive roots — only those surviving which were most fitted
to survive as roots, i.e. as the parent stems of subsequent
word-formations. Now, it appears to me obvious enough
that archaic — though not necessarily aboriginal — words which
were expressive of actions, would have stood a better chance
of surviving as roots than those which may have been
expressive of objects ; first because they were likely to have
been more frequently employed, and next because many of
them must have lent themselves more readily to metaphorical
extension — especially iinder a system of animistic thought.*
And, if these things were so, there is nothing remarkable in
words significant of actions having alone survived as roots.f

The consideration that it is only those words which were
successful in the struggle for existence that can have become
the progenitors of subsequent language — and therefore the only

* " It must be borne in mind that primitive man did not distinguish 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).

t As a matter of fact, and as we shall subsequently see, there is an immense
body of purely philological evidence to show that verbs are really a much later
product of linguistic growth than either nouns or pronouns. This is proved by
their comparative paucity in many existing languages of low development (their
place being taken by pronominal 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 Prepositioiial Roots, Proc. Phi lot 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 efibrt 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 Miiller appears to hold the correct view, liiat at
first 'roots' stood for any and every part of speech, just as the monosyllabic
expressions of children i\o'' (Chapters on Language, pp. 196, 197; sec, also,
some good remarks on the sul>ject by Sir Graves Ilaughton, Bengali Grammar,
p. 108).

2/6 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX.

words that have been handed down to us as roots — has a still
more important bearing upon another of ProfcssorMax Miiller's
generalizations. From the fact that all his 121 Sanskrit roots
are expressive of "general " ideas (by which term he of course
includes what I call generic ideas), he concludes that from its
very earliest origin speech must have been thus expressive of
general ideas ; or, in other words, that human language could
not have begun by the naming of particulars : from the first
it must have been concerned with the naming of "notions."
Now, of course, if any vestige of real evidence could be
adduced to show that this " must have been " the case, most
of the foregoing chapters of the present work would not have
been written. For the whole object of these chapters has
been to show, that on psychological grounds it is abundantly
intelligible how the conceptual stage of ideation may have
been gradually evolved from the receptual — the power of
forming general, or truly conceptual ideas, from the power of
forming particular and generic ideas. But if it could be
shown — or even rendered in any degree presumable — that
this distinctly human power of forming truly general ideas
arose de novo with the first birth of articulate speech, assuredly
my whole analysis would be destroyed : the human mind
would be shown to present a quality different in origin — and,
therefore, in kind — from all the lower orders of intelligence : the
law of continuity would be interrupted at the terminal phase :
an impassable gulf would be fixed between the brute and the
man. As a matter of fact, however, there is not only no vestige
of any such proof or even presumption ; but, as we shall see in
our two following chapters, there is uniform and overwhelm-
ing proof of precisely the opposite doctrine— proof, indeed, so
uniform and overwhelming that it has long ago induced all
other philologists to accept this opposite doctrine as one of
the axioms of their science. Leaving, however, this proof to
be adduced in its proper place, I have now merely to point
out the futility of the evidence on which Professor Max
Muller relies.

This evidence consists merely in fact that the "121 original

ROOTS OF LANGUAGE.

-V/

concepts," which are embodied in the roots of Aryan speech, are
expressive of " general ideas." Now, this argument might be
worth considering if there were the smallest reason to suppose
that in these roots of Aryan speech we possess the aboriginal
elements of language as first spoken by man. But as we well
know that this is immeasurably far from being the case, the
whole argument collapses. The mere fact that many \\ords
which have survived as roots are words expressive of general
ideas, is no more than we might have antecedently expected.
Remembering that it is a favourable condition to a word sur-
viving as a root that it should prove itself a prolific parent of
other words, obviously it is those words which were expres-
sive of ideas presenting some degree oi generality that would
have had the best chance of thus coming down to us, even
from the comparatively high level of culture which, as we have
seen, is testified to by "the 121 original concepts." Of course,
as I have already said, the case would have been different if
any one vv'ere free to suppose, even as a merely logical
possibility, that this level of culture represented that of primi-
tive man when he first began to employ articulate speech.
But any such supposition is beyond the range of rational
discussion. The 121 concepts themselves yield overwhelming
evidence of belonging to a time immeasurably remote from that
of any speechless progenitor of Homo sapiens ; and in the enor-
mous interval (whatever it may have been) many successive
generations of words must certainly have flourished and died.*
These remarks are directed to the comparatively few
instances of general ideas which, as a matter of fact, the list
of "121 concepts" presents. As already observed, the great
majority of these "concepts" exhibit no higher degree of

* " Stands! du dabei, als sich der Brust des noch stummen Urmenschen der
erste Sprachlaut entrang? und verstandst du ihn ? Oder hat man dir die Urwur-
zeln jener ersten Menschen vor hundert tausend Jahren iiberliefert ? Sind das,
wxs du als Wurzdn hinstellst, und was wirklich Wurzeln sein mogcn, auch
Wurzeln der Urzeit, unveranderte Reflexlaute? Sind jene deine Wurzeln alter
als sechstausend, als zehntauscnd Jahre ? und wie viel mogen sie sich in den
friiheren Jahrzehntausenden verandert haben ? wie mag sich ihre Bedcutuiig
vcriindcrt haben?" (Steinthal, Zt-:ts. b. Volkerpysch. u. S/ia,/i~fiss., 1867, s. 76).

27<S MEXTAL EVOLUTIOX IX A/. IX.

"generality" than belongs to what I have called a "pre-con-
cept," i.e. a " named recept." But precisely the same con-
siderations apply to both. For, even supposing that a named
recept was originally a word used only to designate a "par-
ticular" as distinguished from a "generic" idea, obviously it
would have stood but a poor chance of surviving as a root
unless it had first undergone a sufficient degree of extension to
have become what I call receptually connotative. A proper
name, for instance, could not, as such, become a root. Not
until it had become extended to other persons or things of
a like class could it have secured a chance of surviving as a
root in the struggle for existence. As a matter of fact, I
think it most probable — not only from general considerations,
but also from a study of the spontaneous names first coined
in "baby-language," — that aboriginal speech was concerned
simultaneously with the naming both of particular and of
generic ideas — ie. of individual percepts and of recepts. It
will be remembered that in Chapter III., while treating of
the Logic of Recepts, I dealt at some length with this subject.
Here, therefore, it will be sufficient to quote the conclusion to
which my analysis led.

" A generic idea is generic because the particular ideas of
which it is composed present such obvious points of resem-
blance that they spontaneously fuse together in consciousness ;
but a general idea is general for precisely the opposite reason —
namely, because the points of resemblance which it has seized
are obscured from immediate perception, and therefore could
never have fused together in consciousness but for the aid of
intentional abstraction, or of the power of a mind knowingly
to deal with its own ideas as ideas. In other words, the kind
of classification with which recepts are concerned is that
which lies nearest to the kind of classification with which all
processes of so called perceptual inference depend — such as
mistaking a bowl for a sphere. But the kind of classification
with which concepts are concerned is that which lies furthest
from this purely automatic grouping of perceptions. Classi-
fication there doubtless is in both cases ; but in the one order i^

ROOTS OF LANGUAGE. 279

is due to the closeness of resemblances in an act of perception,
while in the other it is due to their remoteness." *

Of course it goes without saying that this " closeness of
resemblances in an act of perception " may be due cither to
similarities of sense-perceptions themselves (as when the
colour of a ruby is seen to resemble that of " pigeon's blood "),
or to frequency of their associations in experience (as when a
sea-bird groups together in one recept the sundry sensations
which go to constitute its perception of water, with its generic
classification of water as a medium in which it is safe to dive).
Now, if we remember these things, can we possibly wonder
that the palaeontology of speech should prove early roots
to have been chiefly expressive of " generic " as distinguished
from " general " ideas on the one hand, or " particular " ideas
on the other ? By failing to observe this real distinction be-
tween classification as receptual and conceptual — i.e. as given
immediately in the act of perception itself, or as elaborated
of set purpose through the agency of introspective thought.
Professor Max Muller founds his whole argument on another
and an unreal distinction : he everywhere regards the bestow-
ing of a name as in itself a sufficient proof of conceptual
thought, and therefore constitutes the faculty of denotation,
equally with that of denomination, the distinctive criterion of
a self-conscious mind. But, as wc have now so repeatedly
seen, such is certainly not the case. Actions and processes
so habitual, or so immediately apparent to perception, as
those with which the great majority of these "121 concepts "
are concerned, do not betoken any order of ideation higher
than the pre-conceptual, in virtue of which a young child
is able to give expression to its higher receptual life prior
to the advent of self- consciousness. Or, as Geiger tersely
says : — " In enzelnen Fallen ist die Entstehung von Gat-
tun gsbegri fife aus Mangel an Untcrscheidung glcicliwohl kauin
zu bezweifeln." f

* .Supra, p. 68, el set].

t Urspuitg dcr Spiache, s. 74. To the same cfTect, ancl from tlic side of
psycliology, I n.ny fiiK>tc Wiindl : — " Oft hat man fle=shalb in dcr Sprachc cincn

2 So MEXTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

Again, if \vc look to the still closer analogy furnished by-
savages, we meet with a still further corroboration of this
view. For instance, Professor Sayce remarks that in "all
savage and barbarous dialects, while individual objects of
sense have a super-abundance of names, general terms arc
correspondingly rare." And he gives a number of remarkable
illustrations.*

In view of these considerations, my only wonder is that
these 120 root-words do not present better evidence of con-
ceptual thought. I have already given my reasons for refus-
ing to suppose that we have here to do with the " original "
framers of spoken language ; and looking to the compara-
tively high level of culture which the people in question must
have reached, it seems remarkable that the root-words of
their language should only in so few instances have risen
above the level of pre-conceptual utterance.f This, however,
only shows how comparatively small a part self-conscious
reflection need play in the practical life of uncultured man :
it does not show that the people in question were remarkably
deficient in this distinctively human faculty. Archdeacon
Farrar tells us that he has observed the whole conversational
vocabulary of certain English labourers not to exceed a
hundred words, and probably further observation would have

Ubergang vom Abstrakten zum Konkretcn zu finden geglaubt, weil dieselbe
thatsachlich zunachst umfassendere, dann iiidividuellere Vorstellungen bezeichnet
und erst zuletzt wieder die Namen individueller Objekte zu Gemeiniiamen stempelt.
Aber was am Anfang dieser Reihe liegt ist etwas ganz anderes als was den Schliiss
derselben bildet : Gemeinnamen sind wirkliche Zeichen fiir Allgemeinvorstellungcn
und Begriffe. Jene ersten Vorstellungen, welche das Bewusstsein bildet und die
Sprache ausdriickt, sind nicht ^/4vwt7«vorstellungen sondern uiiifasscndc Vor-
stellungen. Beides ist wesentlich aus einander zu halten " (Vorlcsimgen, &^c., ii.
382). The passage then proceeds to discuss the psychology of the subject.

* Introduction, &^c., ii. 5, 6.

t 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.

ROOTS OF LANGUAGE. 28 1

showTi that the great majority of these were employed
without conceptual significance. Therefore, if these labourers
had had to coin their own words, it is probable that, without
exception, their language would have been destitute of any
terms betokening more than a pre-conceptual order of idea-
tion. Neverthless, these men must have been capable, in
however undeveloped a degree, of truly conceptual ideation :
and this proves how unsafe it would be to argue from the
absence of distinctively conceptual terms to the poverty of
conceptual faculty among any people v/hose root-words may
have come down to us — although, no doubt, in such a case
we appear to be getting within a comparatively short distance
of the origin of this faculty.

The point, however, now is that really aboriginal, and
therefore purely denotative names, must certainly have
been " generic " as well as " particular " : they must have
been the names of recepts as well as of percepts, of
actions as well as of objects and qualities. Moreover, it
is equally certain that among this aboriginal assemblage
of denotative names as particular and generic, only those
belonging to the latter class could have stood much chance of
surviving as roots. In other words, no aboriginal name could
have survived as a root until it had acquired some greater or
less degree of rcccptual and, therefore, of connotative value.
Hence the fact that the ultimate result of the philological
analysis of any language is that of reducing the language to a
certain small number of roots, and the fact that all these roots
are expressive of general and generic ideas, — these facts in
themselves yield no support whatever to the doctrine, either
that these roots were themselves the aboriginal elements of
language, or, a fortiori, that the aboriginal elements of lan-
guage were expressive of general ideas.*

And this conclusion involves another of scared)- less

* Professor Max Mliller says in one place, "The Science of Language, by
inquiring into the origin of general terms, has establishe<l two facts of the highest
importance, namely, lir»t, that ail terms were originally general ; and, secondly,

282 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX.

importance. A great deal of discussion has been expended
over the question as to whether, or how far, aboriginal
language was indebted to the principle of onomatopoeia, or
the imitation by articulate names of sounds obviously dis-
tinctive of the objects or actions named. Of course, on
evolutionary principles we should be strongly inclined to
suppose that aboriginal language must have been largely
assisted in its formation by such intentional imitation of
natural sounds, seeing that of all forms of vocal expression
they admit of most readily conveying an idea of the object
or action named. And the same applies to the so-called
iiiterjectional element in word-formation, or the utilization as
names of sounds which are naturally expressive of states of
human feeling. On the other hand, contempt has been
poured upon this theory as an adequate explanation of the
first beginnings of articulate speech, on the ground that it is
not supported either by history * or by the results of
philogenetic inquiry. f It is, however, forgotten by those
who argue on this side that names of onomatopoetic origin

that they could not be anything but general " {Sciciice of Thought, p. 456).
Elsewhere, however, he says, "Although during the time when the growth of
language becomes historical and most accessiljlc, therefore, to our observation,
the tendency certainly is from the general to the special, I cannot resist the convic-
tion that before that time there was a prehistoric period during which language
followed an opj^osite 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. ? {Ursp7-img der Sprache, s. 16).
Clearly, Professor Max Midler'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.

* Bunsen, Philosophy of Universal History, ii. 131.

t Professor Max Miiller 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.

ROOTS OF LANGUAGE. 283

must always be, in the first instance, particular ; that so long
as they remain particular (as, for example, is the case with
our word " cuckoo "), they cannot have much chance of
surviving as roots ; that in proportion as they increase their
chances of survival as roots by becoming more general, they
must do so by becoming more conventional ; and, therefore,
that the vast majority of roots, even if aboriginally they were
of onomatopoetic origin, must necessarily have had that
origin obscured.

In order to illustrate each and all of these general
considerations, let us turn to the example of our own " baby-
language." The fact that such language presents so large
an element of onomatopoeia in itself furnishes a strong pre-
sumption that what is now seen to constitute so important a
principle in the infancy of the individual (notwithstanding
the hereditary tendency to speak), must have constituted at
least as important a principle in the infancy of the race.
But the point now is, that if we mark the connotative
extension of any such nursery word, we may find that just in
proportion as it becomes general does its onomatopoetic
origin become obscure. For instance, the late Mr. Darwin
gave me the following particulars with regard to a grand-
child of his own, who was then living in his house. I quote
the account from notes taken at the time.

" The child, who was just beginning to speak, called a
duck 'quack'; and, by special association, it also called
water ' quack.' By an appreciation of the resemblance of
qualities, it next extended the term 'quack' to denote all
birds and insects on the one hand, and all fluid substances on
the other. Lastly, by a still more delicate appreciation of
resemblance, the child eventually called all coins 'quack,'
because on the back of a French sou it had once seen the
representation of an eagle. Hence, to the child, the sign
'quack,' from having originally had a very specialized
meaning, became more and more extended in its significa-
tion, until it now serves to designate such ai)i)arentl)' diKcrcnt
objects as ' fi)-,' 'wine,' and ' coin.' "

2S4 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX I.V MAX.

Now, if ?^ny such process of extending or gcncralizinf^
aboriginally onomatopoetic terms were to have taken place
among the primitive framers of human speech, how hopeless
would be the task of the philologist who should now attempt
to find the onomatopoetic root! Yet, as above observed, not
only may we be perfectly certain that such extensions of
aboriginal onomatopoetic terms must have taken place, if any
such terms were ever in existence at all (and this cannot be
doubted), but also that it must have been almost a necessary
condition to the survival of an onomatopoetic term as a root
that such an extension of its meaning should have taken
place. In other words, we can see very good reason to
conclude that, as a rule, only those instances of primitive
onomatopttia can have survived as roots, which must long
ago have had their onomatopoetic origin hopelessly obscured.
So that nowhere so much as in this case should we be
prepared to entertain the general principle of philological
research, that, as Goethe graphically states it, the original
meanings of words become gradually worn out, like the
image and superscription of a coin.*

In view of such considerations, my only wonder is that
this origin admits of being traced so often as it does, even as
far back as the comparatively recent times when a pastoral
people coined the terms which afterwards constituted the
roots of Sanskrit. Kas, to cough ; kshu, to sneeze ; proth,
to snort ; ma, to bleat, and not a few others, are conceded,
even by Professor Max ]\Iuller, to be of obviously imitative

* 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.)

ROOTS OF LANGUAGE. 285

origin. In the present connection, however, it is of interest
to notice how this authority deals with such cases. He
says : — " Not one of them is of any importance in helping us
to account for real words in Sanskrit. Most of them have
had no offspring at all, others have had a few descendants,
mostly sterile. Their history shows clearly how far the
influence of onomatopoeia may go, and if once we know
its legitimate sphere, we shall be less likely to wish to extend
it beyond its proper limits." *

Now, under our present point of view we can see a very
good reason why this element of sterility should have
attached to these roots of Sanskrit whose onomatopoetic
origin still admits of being clearly traced : it is just because
they failed to be extended that their imitative .source
continues to be apparent.f But suppose, for the sake of
illustration, that any one of them had been extended, and
what would have happened .'' If via, to bleat, had been
metaphorically applied to the crying of a child, and had
then become more and more habitually used in this new
signification, while the original meaning became more and
more obsolete, it might have taken the place of any such root
as bhi, to fear; ish, to love, &c. ; and in all the progeny of
words which in this its conventional use it might subse-
quently have generated, no trace of imitative origin could
now have been met with — any more than such an origin can
be detected in the sound " quack," as used by the above-
mentioned child to designate a shilling.

Several other considerations to the same general effect
might be adduced. But, to mention only some of the
more important, Stcinthal points out that imitative utlcr-

* Science of 'IhoHght, pp. 317, 318.

t Or, as Heyse puts it, many onomatopoeias are not "old fruitful roots of
language, but modern inventions which remain isolated in lanjjuage, and arc
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 Lant^uai^e, 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 oliscured by a widely connotativc extension, it docs remain
possible to trace its progeny through areas of smaller extension).

286 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

ance differs widely even among different races of existing
men, so that the onomatopoetic words of one race do not
convey any imitative suggestion to the minds of another.*
Similarly, Professor Sayce insists, " it is not necessary that
the imitation of natural sounds should be an exact one ;
indeed, that it never can be : all that is wanted is that the
imitation should be recognizable by those addressed. The
same natural sound, consequently, may strike the ear of
different persons very differently, and so be represented in
articulate speech in a strangely varying manner." f Another
very good illustration of the same point is to be found in the
names for a grass-hopper in different languages. After giving
a number. Archdeacon Farrar remarks that obviously they are
" all imitative : yet how immensely varied by the fantasies
of imitation ! How is this to be explained ? Simply by the
fact to which it is so often necessary to recur, that words are
not mere imitations, but subjective echoes and reproduc-
tions— repercussions which are modified both organically
and ideally — which have moreover been immensely blurred
and disintegrated by the lapse of ages." %

But perhaps the best illustration that has been given of
this point is in the different words which obtain in different
languages as names for Thunder. Two independent treatises
have been written on the subject, one by Grimm, § and
the other by Pott. |j While in nearly all the languages the

* " Nichtsdestoweniger bleibt es eine wichtige psychologische Thatsache,
class die Laute einen onomatopoetischen Werth haben, dass wir diesen Werth
heute noch fiihlen. Nur ist dieses Gefiihl nicht sicher genug, um als wissen-
schaftlicher Beweis zu gelten, wie es denn auch bei den verschiedenen Racen
verschieden ist. Die Sprachen der mongolischen Race haben zur Bezeichnung
von Naturereignissen viele Onomatopoien, welche wir nicht mitfiihlen. Und das
ist weder zu vervvundern, noch ist es ein Beweis gegen die geistige Einheit des
Menschengeschlechtes. Das Gefiihl wird ja vielfach durch Associationen der
Vorstellungen bestimmt. Andere Associationen aber walten im Kaukasier,
andcre im Mongolen " (Zeits. b. Volkcrpsych. Ji. Sprachivisscn., 1S67, s. 76).

t Introduction, <St=c., i., p. 108. He points out that " ii/i/'t, glut-glut, and puis,
are all attempts to represent the same sound."

X Chapters on Language, p. 1 54.

§ Ucber N'anien des Donners, 1855.

II Slcinthal's Zeitschrift, &c.

ROOTS OF LAXGUAGE. l^J

principle of imitation is more or less clearly apparent,
the greatest diversities occur among the resulting sounds.*
In this connection, also, I may adduce yet one further
consideration. In his Introduction to the Science of Lan-
guage, Professor Sayce argues on several grounds that,
when articulation first began, the articulate sounds were
probably in large part dependent for their meaning on the
gestures with which they were accompanied. Consequently,
aboriginal root-words, even supposing that any such had
come down to us, and that their origin were imitative,
inasmuch as their imitative value may thus have in large
part depended on appropriately accompanying gestures, their
imitative source would long ago have become obscured.

In view of all these considerations, therefore, I cannot
deem the merely negative evidence against the onomatopoetic
origin of articulate sounds as of any value at all. Even if vve
had any reason to suppose that philological analysis were in
possession of the really aboriginal commencements of spoken
language, we should still be unable reasonably to conclude
against their imitative origin, merely on the ground that in
our greatly altered circumstances of life and of mind we arc
not now able to trace the imitations.

As a matter of fact, however, the evidence which we have
on the subject is not all negative. On the contrary, there is
an overwhelming body of actual and unquestionable proof of
the imitative origin of very many words in all languages —
especially those which are spoken by savages, and are known
from their general structure to be in a comparatively
undeveloped state. The evidence being much too copious
for quotation, I must content myself with referring to the

* Professor Max Miiller has argued that in the Indo-European languages the
apparently onomatopoeiic words signifying "thunder "are derived from the root
tail, 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 l.an:^ua!^c, p. S2).
S.c al.-,o, Chapters on Lansnagc, pp. 178-182 ; Ileyse, System, %. 9J ; and Wundl,
I'orLs linden, Cre., ii. 396.

288 MEXTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX.

excellent and most forcible epitome which is given of it
by Archdeacon Farrar in his works on the Origin of Lan-
guage and Chapters on Language* The foregoing remarks,
therefore, which I have made on the negative side of the
question, are merely intended to show that the element of
onomatopoeia must have entered into the composition of
aboriginal speech much more largely than philologists are
now able to prove, notwithstanding that they have been able
to prove how immensely important an element it has been in
this respect. The only wonder is, that when so many causes
have been at work in obscuring and corroding the originally
imitative significance of words, this significance should still
admit of being traced in all languages — even the most highly
conventionalized — to the very large extent in which it does.

The hostility which Professor Max Muller has displayed to
the onomatopoetic theory of the origin of language is the more
remarkable, because in his latest work he has enthusiastically
embraced a special branch of this theory, which has been put
forward by M. Noire. This special branch of the onomatopoetic
theory is that articulate sign-making had its origin in sounds
which are made by bodies of men when engaged in some
common occupation. When sailors row, soldiers march,
builders co-operate in pulling or in lifting, &c., there is always
a tendency to give vent to appropriate sounds, which the
nature of the occupation usually breaks up into rhythmic
periods. "These utterances, noises, shouts, hummings, or
sonos are a kind of natural reaction against the inward dis-
turbance caused by muscular effort. They are the almost
involuntary vibrations of the voice, corresponding to the
more or less regular movements of our whole bodily frame."
The hypothesis, therefore, is that sounds thus naturally
evolved, and differing with different occupations, would
sooner or later come to be conventionally used as the names
of these different occupations. And, if thus used habitually,
they would be virtually the same as words, inasmuch as they

* See also Nodier, Diclionnairc dcs Onomatopccs ; and Wedgwood, Dictionary
of English Etymology.

ROOTS OF LANGUAGE. 289

would not merely admit of immediate understanding on the
part of others, but, what is even of more importance, they
would, by the mere fact of such conventional usage of names,
elevate what had previously been but a receptual appreciation
of an act into a pre-conceptual designation of it.

Now, I say that this hypothesis, whatever may be thought
as to its probability, is clearly but a special branch of the
general theory of onomatopoeia. So that primitive names
were intentionally imitative of natural sounds, for all the pur-
poses of onomatopoetic theory it makes no difference whether
such sounds were made by natural objects or by man himself.
Nor, of the natural sounds which were made by man himself,
does it in any way affect this theory whether the naturally
human sounds were "interjectional" only, "co-operative" only,
or sometimes one and sometimes the other. If, following the
example set by Professor Max Muller, I may be allowed to
designate Noire's special branch of the onomatopoetic theory
as the Yeo-he-ho theory, it appears to me impossible to distin-
guish it in any essential particular from those other branches
which are called by him the Bow-wow and Pooh-pooh theories
— i.e. the imitative and the interjectional. Yet he has become
as ardent a supporter of the one branch as he was a vehement
opponent of the others.*

* Probably the explanation of this apparent inconsistency is to be found in the
fact that Noire's special version of the onomatopoetic theory comes within easy
distance of a hypothesis which Max Midler had himself previously sanctioned.
This hypothesis, originally propounded by Ileyse in his System der Sprachwisseii-
schaft, 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
diflfercnt 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 Vermogcns der Sprachschijpfung und die damit zusamnien-
hiingende von einem vollkommenen Urzustande des Menschen ist einc Zullucht
zum Unbegreiflichen, und nicht weit von dem Eingestiindnisse entfernt, dass es
uns der Natur der Dinge nach fiir immer unmoglich sci, den wahren Sinn der
Urwurzeln zu erkenncn und den Vorgangdes Sprachursprunges zu erklarcn. Wir
wiirdcn mit eincr solchcn Annahme auf einen mystischcn Standpunkt zuriick-
gefiihrt sein, da doch schon Herder das ' Gespenst vom Wort K;ihi.L;kcit '
bekiimpft und gesagt hat: 'Jch gebe den Menschen nicht gleich plotziich ncuc

U

290 MEXTAL EVOLUTION EV MAX.

For my own part, I think it highly probable that there
is an element of truth in the Yeo-he-ho theory, although
I deem it in the last degree improbable that imitative sounds
of this kind constituted the only source of aboriginal speech.
At the most, it seems to me, this branch of onomatopoeia
can be accredited with supporting but a small proportional
part of aboriginal language-growth. Nevertheless, as already
observed, I can have no doubt at all that the principle of
onomatopoeia in all its branches has been the most important
of all principles which were concerned in the first genesis of
speech. That is to say, I fully agree with the almost unani-
mous voice of philological authority on this matter, which
may be tersely expressed by allowing Professor Whitney to
act as spokesman.

" Beyond all reasonable question, there was a positively
long period of purely imitative signs, and a longer one of mixed
imitative and traditional ones, the latter gradually gaining
upon the former, before the present condition of things was
reached, when the production of new signs by imitation is
only sporadic and of the utmost rarity, and all language-signs
besides are traditional, their increase in any community being
solely caused by variation and combination, and by borrowing
from other communities." *

But now, having thus stated as emphatically as possible
my acceptance of the theory of onomatopoeia, I have to
express dissent from many of its more earnest advocates
where they represent that it is necessarily the only theory to
be entertained. In other words, I do not agree with the
dogma that articulate speech cannot possibly have had any
source, or sources, other than that which is supplied by vocal
imitations.! For, on merely antecedent grounds, I can see

Krafte, keine spiachschaffendc Fiiliigkcit, wie eiiic willklirliche qualitas occulta' "
{Ursprung der Sprache, s. 24). Sayce, also, well remarks of this hypothesis, "It
really rests upon aii 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 Scieiue of Language, vol. i., pp. 66, 67).

* Encyclo. Brit., art. " Philology," vol. xviii., p. 769.

t See, for instance, Y^xx'^i.x, Chapters on I.angtiage, p. 184.

JHOOrS OF LANGUAGE. 29 1

no adequate reason for arbitrarily excluding the possibility of
arbitrary invention. If even civilized children, who are not
under the discipline of the "mother of invention," will coin
a language of their own in which the element of onomatopoeia
is barely traceable;* and if uneducated deaf-mutes will
spontaneously devise articulate sounds which are necessarily
destitute of any imitative origin ; f I do not see why it should
be held antecedently impossible that primitive man can have
found any other means of word-formation than that which
is supplied by mimicry. Therefore, while I fully agree with
Professor Wundt in holding that the question before us is
one to be dealt with by psychology rather than philology
(seeing that language cannot record the conditions of its
own birth, and that so many causes have been at work to
obliterate aboriginal' onomatopoeia), I cannot follow him
where he argues that on grounds of psychology there is no
room for any other inference than that the principle of
onomatopoeia in its widest sense must have constituted the
sole origin of significant articulation. %

We have already seen that even the most imitative of
vocalists, the talking birds, will invent wholly arbitrary sounds
as denotative names,§ and it would be psychologically absurd
to suppose that they are superior to what primitive man must
have been in the matter of finding expedients for semiotic
utterance. Again, the clicks of Hottentots and Bushmen,
whatever we suppose their origin to have been, certainly
cannot have had that origin in onomatopoeia ; and no less
certainly, as Professor Saycc remarks, they still survive to
show how the utterances of speechless man could be made to
embody and convey ideas. || Lastly, on the general principle
that the development of the individual furnishes information
touching the development of the race, it is highly significant

* See above, pp. 138-144.

t .See above, pp. 121, 122.

X See Vorlesitngen, ijt'c., ii. 394, 395.

§ See above, pp. 132-136.

1! Jntroditction to the Science 0/ Lain-iuigc, ii. 302.

292 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

that the hitherto speechless child will spontaneously use
arbitrary sounds (both articulate and otherwise) whereby to
denotate habitual recepts. And even after it has begun
to learn the use of actual words, arbitrary additions are
frequently made to its vocabulary which defy any explanation
at the hands of onomatopoeia — not only, as in the cases above
alluded to, where they are left to themselves, but even in
cases where they are in the closest contact with language as
spoken by their elders. I could quote many instances of this
fact ; but it will be enough to refer to one already given on
page 144 (foot-note). When, however, these spontaneous
efforts are not controlled by constant association with elders,
but fostered by children of about the same age being left
much together, the remarkable consequence previously alluded
to arises — namely, a newly devised language which depends
but in small part upon the principle of onomatopoeia, and is
therefore wholly unintelligible to all but its inventors.*

I have now briefly stated all the main facts and considera-
tions which appear to me worth stating, both for and against
the theory of onomatopoeia. And, having done this, I wish
in conclusion to make it clear that the matter is not one
which seriously affects the theory of evolution. To the
philologist, no doubt, the question as to how far the element
of onomatopoeia entered into the formation of aboriginal
speech is a really important question, so that, as Geiger says,
" Diess ist die gemeinsame Frage, und die antwort wird auf
der einen Seite von einem inneren Zusammenhang zwischen
je einem Laut und dem entsprechendcn Begrifife, auf der
andern aus Willkiir und Uebereinkunft hergeleitet." t But
the question is one which the evolutionist ma)- view with
indifference. Whether words were all originally dependent
on an inherent connection between every sound they made

* See above, pp. 138-143.

+ Der Ursprting der Sprachc, s. 31. His own answer to the question is as
follows: — " Sind die Worter Produkte der Natur order der Willkiir? Beides,
und beides nicht. Kein Wort hat naturnothwendig seine bestimmte Bedeutung ;
insofern sind sie alle willkiirlich : aber keines ist zu seiner Bedeutung durch
menschliche Willensthatigkeit gekommen" [Unci., s. 113).

IfOOTS OF LANGUAGE. 293

and the idea thereby expressed, or whether they were all
due to arbitrary invention, in either case the evolutionist may
see that they can equally well have come into existence as
the natural products of a natural psychogenesis. And,
a fortiori, as an evolutionist, he need not greatly concern
himself with any further question as to the relative degrees in
w'hich imitation and invention may have entered into the
composition of primitive speech.

294 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY.

We are now in a position to consider certain matters which
are of high importance in relation to the subject of the
present work. In earHer chapters I have had occasion to
show that the whole stress of the psychological distinction
between man and brute must be laid — and, in point of fact,
has been laid by all competent writers who are against me —
on the distinctively human faculty of judgment. Moreover,
I have shown that, by universal consent, this faculty is identi-
cal with that of predication. Any mind that is able, in the
strict psychological signification of the term, to judge, is also
able to predicate, and vice versa. I claim, indeed, to have
conclusively shown that certain writers have been curiousl)'
mistaken in their analysis of predication. These mistakes
on their part, however, do not relieve me of the burden of
explaining the rise of predication ; and I have sought to
discharge the burden by showing how the faculty must have
been given in germ so soon as the denotative stage of sign-
making passed into the connotative, and thus furnished the
condition to bringing into contact, or apposition, the names of
objects and the names of qualities or actions. The discussion
of this important matter, however, has so far proceeded on
grounds of psychological analysis alone. The point has now
arrived when we may turn upon the subject the independent
light of philological analysis. Whereas we have hitherto
considered, on grounds of mental science only, what must have
been the genesis of predication — supposing predication to

THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY. 295

have had a genesis, — we have next to ascertain whether our
deduction admits of corroboration by any inductive evidence
supphed by the science of language, as to what this genesis
actually luas.

And here I had better say at once that the results of
philological science will be found to carry us back to an even
more primitive state of matters than any which I have
hitherto contemplated. For, so long as I was restricted to
psychological analysis, I was obliged to follow my opponents
where they take language as it now exists. In order to argue
with them at all upon these grounds, it was necessary for me
to consider what they had said on the philosophy of predica-
tion ; and, in order to do this, it was further necessary that
I should postpone for independent treatment those results
of philological inquiry which they have everywhere ignored.
But now we have come to the place where we can afford to
abandon psychological anal)-sis altogether, and take our stand
upon the still surer ground of what I have already termed
the palaeontological record of mental evolution as this has
actually been preserved in the stratified deposits of language.
Now, when we do this, we shall find that hitherto we have not
gone so far back in tracing the genesis of conceptual out of
rcccptual ideation as in point of fact we are able to go on
grounds of the most satisfactory evidence.

Up to this time, then, I have been meeting my opponents
on their own assumptions, and one of these assumptions has
been that language must always have existed as we now
know it — at least to the extent of comprising words which
admit of being built up into propositions to express the
semiotic intention of the speaker. But this assumption is well
known by philologists to be false. As a matter of fact,
language did not begin with any of our later-day distinctions
between nouns, verbs, adjectives, prepositions, and the rest :
it began as the undifferentiated protoplasm of speech, out of
which all these "parts of speech" had afterwards to be
developed by a prolonged course of gradual evolution. " Die
Sprache ist nicht stuckweis order atomistisch ; sie ist glcich

296 MEXTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX.

in alien ihrcn Thcilcn als Ganzes und dcmnach organisch
entstanden." *

This highly general and most important fact is usually
stated as it was, I believe, first stated by the anthropologist
Waitz, namely, that " the unit of language is not the word,
but the sentence ; " f and, therefore, that historically the
sentence preceded the word. Or, otherwise and less ambigu-
ously expressed, every word was originally itself a proposition,
in the sense that of and by itself it conveyed a statement. Of
course the more that a single word thus assumed the func-
tions now discharged by several words when built into a
proposition, the more generalized — that is to say, the less
defined — must have been its meaning. The sentence or
proposition as we now have it represents what may be termed
a psychological division of labour as devolving upon its
component parts : subject-words, attributive-words, qualifying-
words indicative of time, place, agent, instrument, and so forth,
are now all so many different organs of language, which are
set apart for the performance of as many different functions of
language. The life of language under this its fully evolved
form is, therefore, much more complex, and capable of much
more refined operations, than it was while still in the wholly
undifferentiated condition which we have now to contemplate.

In order to gain a clear conception of this protoplasmic
condition of language, we had better first take an example
of it as it is presented to our actual observation in the child
which is just beginning to speak. For instance, as Professor
Max Miiller points out, "if a child says 'Up,' that up is, to
his mind, noun, verb, adjective, all in one. If an English
child says ' Ta,' that ta is both noun (thanks), and a verb (I
thank you). Nay, even if a child learns to speak grammatically,
it does not yet think grammatically ; it seems, in speaking,
to wear the garments of its parents, though it has not yet
grown into them." \

* Schelling, Eitil. in die Philos. d. Mythologie, s. 51,

t Anthropologic der Aatu)~voiker, i., 272. See also, F. Miiller, Grundriss der
Sprachwissenshaft, I. i. 49.

X Science of Language, ii. 91, 92.

THE WITNESS OF rHILOLOGV. 297

Again, as Professor Friedrich Miiller says, "the child's
word Ba-ba, sleep, does not mean sleep only, as a particular
kind of repose, but rather also all the circumstances which
appertain to sleep, such as cot, bed, bolster, bed-clothes, &c.*
It likewise and indifferently means, sleeping, sleepy, sleeper,
&c., and may stand for any variety of propositions, such as
" I am sleepy," " I want to go to sleep," "He is asleep," &c.

Of course innumerable other illustrations might be given ;
but these are enough to show what is meant by a " sentence-
word." The next thing we have to notice is the manner in
which a young child particularizes the meanings of its
sentence-words, so as to limit their highly generic significance
per se, and thus to make them convey the special significance
intended. Briefly, the one and only means which the child
has of doing this is by the employment of tone and gesture.
Here the suiting of the action to the word is a necessary
condition to semiotic utterance ; the more primitive forms of
sign-making are the needful supplements to these commence-
ments of higher forms. And not only so ; they are likewise
in large part the parents of these higher forms. It is by
pointing {i.e. falling back on what I have called the earliest
or " indicative stage " of language) that a child is able to
signify the place, agent, instrument, &c., to which it requires
a sentence-word to apply ; and thus we catch our first
glimpse of the highly important fact that the earliest
indications of grammar are given by the simultaneous use of
sentence-words and gesture-signs.

It will now be my object to prove, that in the history of
the race spoken language began in the form of sentence-
words ; that grammar is the child of gesture ; and, con-
sequently, that predication is but the adult form of the
self-same faculty of sign-making, which in its infancy we
know as indication. Being myself destitute of authority in
matters philological, I will everywhere rely upon the agree-
ment of recognized leaders of the science.

Jkmsen, I believe, was the first to point out that in

* Grit ml. (/. S/irai/i'd'iss., i., 43.

29S MEA'TAL EVOLUTIOy I.V MAY.

Egyptian there is no formal distinction between noun,
adjective, verb, or particle ; such a word as an/i, for instance,
meaning indifferently, life, alive, to live, lively, &c.* Similarly,
in Chinese "the word can still be used indifferently as a
noun, a verb, an adverb, or the sign of a case, much like such
English words as silver, and picture, and its place in the
sentence alone determines in what sense it shall be construed.
This is an excellent illustration of the early days of speech,
when the sentence-words contained within themselves all the
several parts of speech at once — all that was needed for a
complete sentence ; and it was only by bringing them into
contact and contrast [i.e. apposition^ with other sentence-words,
that they came to be restricted in their meaning and use, and
to be reduced to mere ' words.' " t

Later on I will give abundant evidence of a similar state
of matters in the case of other existing languages presenting
a low order of development — especially those of savages.
But perhaps it is even of more importance to prove that
the most highly developed of all languages — namely, the
Indo-European group — still bears unmistakable evidence of
having passed through this primitive phase. This is a state-
ment which it would be easy to substantiate by any number
of quotations ; but I will only call the testimony of one wit-
ness in the person of Professor Max Muller, whose evidence on
this point may be regarded as that of an opponent.

" Nothing, it is true, can exist in language except what is
a sentence, i.e. that conveys a meaning ; but for that very
reason it ought to have been perceived that every word must
originally have been a sentence. The mere root, qua root,
cannot be called a sentence, and in that sense a mere root
may be denied the dignity of a word. But as soon as a
root is used for predication, it becomes a word, whether
outwardly it is changed or not. What in Chinese is effected
by position or by tone, namely, the adaptation of a root
to serve the purposes of words, is in the Aryan languages

* yEgypten, i. 324.

t Sayce, Introduction, vS~-V., i. 119, 120.

THE WITXESS OF PHILOLOGY. 299

achieved by means of suffixes and terminations, though often
also by change of tone. We saw that, in an earlier stage,
the Ar>'an languages, too, could raise a root into a word,
without the aid of suffixes, and that, for instance, yndJi, to
fight, could be used in the five senses of the act of fighting,
the agent of fighting, the instrument of fighting, the place of
fighting, and the result of fighting. For the sake of distinction,
however, as soon as the necessity began to be felt, the Aryan
language introduced derivative elements, mostly demonstrative
or pronominal."

"The imperativ^e may truly be called the most primitive
sentence, and it is important to observe how little in many
languages it deviates from what has been fixed upon as the
true form of a root. . . . va, weave, whether as a reminder
or as a command, would have as much right to be called a
sentence as v/hen we say, 'Work,' 2.^. 'Let us work.' . . . From
the use of a root in the imperative, or in the form of a general
assertion, there is a very easy transition to its employment in
other senses and for other purposes. ... A master requiring
his slaves to labour, and promising them their food in the
evening, would have no more to say than ' Dig — Feed,' and
this would be quite as intelligible as ' Dig, and you shall
have food,' or, as we now say, ' If you dig, you shall have
food.' " *

Thus we may lay it down as a general doctrine or
well-substantiated principle of philological research, that
" Language begins with sentences ; not with single words ; " f
or that originally every word in and of itself required to
convey a meaning, after the manner of the early utterances
of children. " The sentence is the only unit which language
can know, and the ultimate starting-point of all our linguistic
researches. ... If the sentence is the unit of significant
speech, it is evident that all individual words must once have
been sentences ; that is to say, when first used they must
each have implied or represented a sentence." +

* Science of 77ioii^ht, 423-440.
t .Sayce, Introduction, ^c, i. iii. + //'/</., i. 113, 114.

300 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX.

" The making- of words as distinct from sentences was
a long and laborious process, and there are many languages,
like those of North America, in which the process has hardly
yet begun. A dictionary is the result of reflection, and ages
must elapse before a language can enter upon its reflective
stage." *

Or, to give only one more quotation, as Professor Max
IMiiller says, "it is difficult for us to think in Chinese, or in
any radical language, without transferring to it our categories
of thought. But if we watch the language of a child, which
is really Chinese spoken in English, we sec that there is a
form of thought, and of language, perfectly rational and
intelligible to those who have studied it, in which, neverthe-
less, the distinction between noun and verb, nay, between
subject and predicate, is not yet realized." f

Starting, then, from this undifferentiated condition of
language, let us next see how the " parts of speech " became
evolved.

There appears to be no doubt that one of the earliest
parts of speech to become differentiated was the pronoun.
Moreover, all the pronouns (or " pronominal elements ") as
originally differentiated were indistinguishable from what we
should now call adverbs ; and they were all concerned with
denoting relations of place. % No exception to this general
statement can be made even as regards the personal pronouns.
"■Hie, iste, il/e, are notoriously a sort of correlatives to ego, tu,
sui, and, if the custom of the languages had allowed it, might,
on every occasion, be substituted for them." § Now, there is
very good reason to conclude that these pronominal adverbs,
or adverbial pronouns, were in the first instance what may
be termed articulate translations of gesture-signs — i.e. of a
pointing to place-relations. / being equivalent to tliis one, he
or she or it to that one, &c., we find it easy to supply the
indicative gestures out of which these denotative terms arose ;
and although we are not now able to supply the phonetic

* Sayce, Introduction, Cifc, i. 121. t Science of Thought, p. 242.

X Garnett, FhiloLo. Essays, p. 87. § Ibid., 77, 78.

THE WITXESS OF PHILOLOGY. 50I

source of these highly ancient " pronominal " or " demonstrative
elements," it is easy to imagine that they may have arisen in
the same apparently spontaneous way as very young children
will now devise arbitrary sounds, both as proper names and
as adverbs of position. That we should not err in thus
comparing the grade of mental evolution exhibited by the
earliest framers of spoken language with that of a young
child, is rendered apparent by the additional and highly
interesting fact, that, just as a young child begins by speaking
of the Ego in the third person, so it was with early man in
his use of personal pronouns. " Man regarded himself as an
object before he learnt to regard himself as a subject ; and
hence ' the objective cases of the personal as well as of the
other pronouns are always older than the subjective ; ' and
the Sanskrit mam, ma (Greek /^f, Latin me) is earlier than
ahain (Ijmv and ego)." *

Lest it should be thought that I am assuming too much
in thus referring the origin of pronominal elements to gesture-
signs, I will here quote the opinion of Professor Max Miillcr,
who of all philologists is least open to suspicion of bias

* Farrar, Origin of Laitgiiage, p. 99. The passage continues, "We might
have conjectured this from the fact aheady noticed, that children learn to speak
of themselves in the third person — i.e. regard themselves as objects — long belore
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 Po-wer of Greek lenses ;" and
recurs to the subject in his more recently published Chapfers on Language, p. 62.
I could quote other authorities who have commented upon thi^ 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 tt/itn, 'I,' is still 'a man' in Lampong, and the Kawi
ug~u!ang, ' I,' cannot be separated from nwang, 'a man'" (Sayce, lntroduitio)t,
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
iiereinbrechen, suhjektlose Urtheile sind, und dass die Pradikate derselbcn stets
cine sinnliche Vorstcllung ausdriicken. ' Es leuchtet es glanzt, es lont,' — soldier
Art sind die Urtheile, die der Mcnsch zuerst denkt und zuerst ausspricht. Jcncs
I'riidikat, dass sogleich bei der Wahrnehniung eines Gegenstandcs sich aufdriingt,
wird zur Bezcichnung des Gegenstandcs selber, 'Das Leuchtende, Gian/.ende,
Tfinende,' — solcher Art find die Wiirter, die urspriinglich in der .Spraclie gebiUlct
werden " {he. cit., ii. 377).

302 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

towards my side of the present argument. Speaking of these
"demonstrative elements, which point to an object in space
and time, and express what we now express by then, this
[=1], //^rt;/ [ = there, he, she, it, &c.], near, far, above, below,
&c.;" he says, "in their primitive form and intention they are
addressed to the senses rather than to the intellect : they are
sensuous, not conceptual." * And elsewhere he adds, " I see
no reason why we should not accept them as real survivals of
a period of speech during which pantomime, gesture, pointing
with the fingers to actual things were still indispensable
ingredients of all conversation." t Again, " it was one of the
characteristic features of Sanskrit, and the other Aryan
languages, that they tried to distinguish the various applica-
tions of a root by means of what I have called demonstrative
roots or elements. If they wished to distinguish the mat as
the product of their handiwork, from the handiwork itself,
they would say ' Platting — there ; ' if they wished to encourage
the work they would say, ' Platting — they, or you, or we.'
\Vc found that what we call demonstrative roots or elements
must be considered as remnants of the earliest and almost
pantomimic phase of language, in which language was hardly
as yet what we mean by language, namely logos, a gathering,
but only a pointing." +

It is the opinion of some philologists, however, that
these demonstrative elements were probably " once full or
predicative words, and that if we could penetrate to an earlier
stage of language, we should meet with the original forms of
which they are the maimed half-obliterated representatives." §

* Science of Thought, p. 221.

t Ibid., p. 554.

X Ibid., 241.

§ Sayce, Introduction, ^'c, ii. 25 ; see also to the same effect, Bleek, Ursprung
der Sprache, 70-72 ; F. Mliller, Grundriss der Sprachwisscnshaft, I., i., s. 40 ; and
Noire, Logos, p. 186. The chief ground of this scepticism is that it is difficult to
conceive how a word could ever have gained a footing if it did not from the first
present some independent predicative meaning. 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

'JHE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY. 303

But as even these philologists do not question that all
originally " predicative words" would be found to have had
their predicative value determined by gesture, " if we could
penetrate to an earlier stage of language," the question
whether such demonstrative elements as have come down to
us were or were not themselves of originally predicative
value, is not of vital importance in the present connection.
For there is no doubt that pronominal elements which really
were aboriginal as such, depended on accompanying gesture-
signs for a conveyance of their predicative meaning ; and
although, as we might expect, there is a necessary absence of
proof in particular cases whether these elements have come
down to us in a practically aboriginal form, or whether they
have done so as the worn-out remnants of independently
predicative words, the general principles on which we are now
engaged are not really affected by any such philological
uncertainties in matters of detail. For even the authority
just quoted as doubting whether we have evidence enough to
conclude that demonstrative elements which have come down
to us were never themselves predicative words, elsewhere says
of early predicative utterance in general, — " It is certain that
there was a time in the history of speech when the articulate,
or semi-articulate, sounds uttered by primitive man were
made the significant representatives of thought by the
gestures with which they were accompanied ; and this complex
of sound and gesture — a complex in which, be it remembered,
the sound had no meaning apart from the gesture — was
the earliest sentence." * And, after giving examples from
languages of Further India, he adds, — " But an inflectional
language does not permit us to watch the word-making
process so clearly as do those savage jargons, in which a
couple of sounds, like the Grebo Jii 7ic\ signify ' I do it,' or

pronominal theory in the supposition that pronominal elements, even of the
most aboriginal kind, were survivals of still more jirimitive sentence-words — a
supposition which would of course remove the difTiculty in question. Bui, 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.
* Inlrjductioit, i^c, i. 1 1 7,

304 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

' You do not,' according to the context and the <]^cstures of
the speaker. Here by degrees, with the growth of conscious-
ness and the analysis of thought, the external gesture is
replaced by some portion of the uttered sounds which agrees
in a number of different instances, and in this way the words
by \\hich the relations of grammar arc expressed came into
being. A similar process has been at work in producing
those analogical terminations whereby our Indo-European
languages adapt a word to express a new grammatical relation."

Therefore, not unduly to multiply quotations, we may
take it as the now established doctrine of philology that, as
even this more sceptical authority puts it, " Grammar has
grown out of gesture and gesticulation." * Later on I will
show in how interesting a manner early forms of articulate
utterance follow in their structure the language of gesture
already treated of in a previous chapter. It was for the sake
of displaying this resemblance that I there occupied so much
space with the syntax of gesture-language ; and, therefore, it
will now be my object to trace the family likeness between
the constructions of primitive modes of utterance, and those of
the parent gestures from which these constructions have been
directly inherited. But in order to do this more completely,
we must first consider the philology of predicative words.

The parts of speech which are primarily concerned in
predication, and which, therefore, may be called par excellence
predicative words, are substantives, adjectives, and verbs.
I will, therefore, begin by briefly stating what is known
touching the evolution of these parts of speech.

We have abundant evidence to show that originally there
was no distinction between substantives and adjectives, or
object-words and quality-words. Nor is this at all surprising
when we remember that even in fully developed forms of
speech one and the same word may stand as a substantive or
an adjective according to its context. " Cannon " in " cannon-

* Introduction, &^c., \\. T,oi. Or, as Wundt puts it, " Die demonstrative Wurzcl
ist daher cine demonstrirende rantoniiine in einen Laut iibersetzt " (Vorlesnngeii,
d~v., ii. 392).

THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY. 305

ball," or "pocket" in "pocket-book," &c., are adjectives in
virtue of position — i.e. of apposition with the substantives
which they thus serve to qualify.

Similarly as regards the genitive case. This, also, is of
an attributive quality, and, therefore, like the now in-
dependent adjective, originally had no independent existence.
When the force of the genitive had to be conveyed, it
was conveyed by this same device of apposition. And,
lastly, the same device was resorted to for purposes of
predication. Or, to quote these important facts from re-
sponsible sources, Professor Sayce says : — " Even the genitive
case, necessary as it appears to us to be, once had no
existence, as indeed it still has none in groups of languages
like the Taic or the Malay. Instead of the genitive, we here
have two nouns placed in apposition to one another, two
individuals, as it were, set side by side without any effort
being made to determine their exact relations beyond the
mere fact that one precedes the other, and is therefore thought
of first. . . . Now, this apposition of two nouns, which still
serves the purpose of the genitive in many languages, might
be regarded as attributive or as predicative. If predicative,
then the two contrasted nouns formed a complete sentence,
' Cup gold,' for instance, being equivalent to ' The cup is gold.'
If attributive, then one of the two nouns took the place of an
adjective, 'gold cup' being nothing more than 'a golden
cup.' " * Then, after giving examples from different languages
of the artificial contrivances whereby in course of time these
three grammatical differentiations originated (namely, by
conventional changes of position between the words apposed,
in some cases the form of predication being A B, and that of
attribution or possession B A, while in other languages the
reverse order has obtained), Professor Sayce goes on to say : —
"These primitive contrivances for distinguishing between the
predicate, the attribute, and the genitive, when the three ideas
had in the course of ages been evolved by the mind of the

• Sayce, Introduction, ^c, i. 415. .See also F. Miiller, /or. cit., I. i. 2, p. 2,
for .inothcT statement of the same fp.cls referieci to by .Sayce.

X

305 MEXTAL EVOLUTION' EV MAN.

speaker, gradually gave way to the later and more refined
machinery of suffixes, auxiliaries, and the like." *

For the sake of putting this point beyond the reach of
question, I will quote another and independent authority to
the same general effect.

"It is a curious fact hitherto overlooked by grammarians
and logicians, that the definition of a noun applies strictly
only to the nominative case. The oblique cases are really
attribute-words, and the inflection is practically nothing but a
device for turning a noun into an adjective or adverb. This
is perfectly clear as regards the genitive, and, indeed there
is historical evidence to show that the genitive in Aryan
languages was originally identical with an adjective ending ;
'man's life 'and 'human life' being expressed in the same
way. It is also clear that ' noctem ' in ' flet noctem ' is a pure
adverb of time. It is not so easy to see that the accusative
in such sentences as ' He beats the boy ' is also a sort of
adverb, because the connection between verb and object is so
intimate as almost to form one simple idea, as in the case
of noun-composition. But it is clear that if ' boy ' in the
compound ' boy-beating ' is an attribute-word, it can very well
be so also when 'beating' is thrown into the verbal form
without any change of meaning." t

Lastly, upon this point Professor Max Muller says, while
speaking of Aryan adjectives : — " These were not used for the
first time when people said ' The sun is bright,' but when they
predicated the quality of brightness, or the act of shooting out
light, and said, as it were, ' Brightness-here.' Adjectives, in
fact, were formed, at first, exactl}- like substantives, and
many of them could be used in both characters. There are
languages in which adjectives are not distinguished from
substantives. But though outwardly alike, they are conceived
as different from substantives the moment they are used in a
sentence for the purpose of predicating or of qualifying a
substantive." %

* Sayce, lyttrotiiectton, 6^c., i. 416.

t Sweet, Woj-ds, Logic, and Grammar, in Trans. Philo. Soc, 1S67, p. 493.

:j: Science of 'Thought, p. 442.

THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY. 33/

So much, then, for substantives and adjectives : it cannot
be said that there is any evidence of historical priority of the
one over the other ; but rather that so soon as the denotative
meanings of substantives became fixed, they admitted of
having imparted to them the meanings of adjectives, genitives,
and predicates, by the simple expedient of apposition — an
expedient which, as we have seen in earlier chapters, is
rendered inevitable by the laws of association and " the logic
of events :" it is an expedient that must have been furnished
to the mind, and therefore need never have been intentionally
devised by it.

Turning next to the case of verbs, or the class of words
upon which more especially devolves the office of predication,
it is the opinion of some philologists that these arose through
the apposition of substantives with the genitives of pronouns.*
And there can be no doubt that in many actually existing
languages the functions of predication are still discharged in
this way, without the existence of any verbs at all, as we shall
see later on. But, on the other hand, it is shown that a great
many Aryan substantives were formed by joining pronominal
elements to previously existing verbal roots, in a manner so
strongly suggestive of pointing-gestures, that it is difficult
to doubt the highly primitive source of the construction.
For example "digging-he " = labourer, " digging-it " = spade,
" digging-here" = labour, " digging-there " = hole.f &c. Or
again, " ' The hole is dark ' would have been expressed origin-
ally (in Aryan; by 'digging-it,' 'hiding here,' or, *hiding-
somewhere.' ' Hiding-here ' might afterwards be used in the
sense of a hiding-place. But when it was used as a mere
qualifying predicate in a sentence in which there was but one
subject, it assumed at once the character of an adjective."!

To me it appears evident that there is truth in both these
views, which, therefore, are in no way contradictory to one
another. We have evidence that many substantives were of

• See especially Garnctt, On the Xatiin- ami Analysis of the Wib.
t Science of Thought, p. 223.
X n<id., p. 442.

3oS MEXTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX.

later origin than many verbs, and vice versa ; but this docs
not show whicli of these two parts of speech preceded the
other as a whole. Nor does it appear that we are likel}' to
obtain any definite evidence upon the point. On psxxho-
logical grounds, and from the analogy furnished by children,
we might be prepared to think it most probable that sub-
stantives preceded verbs ; and this view is no doubt corrobo-
rated by the remarkable paucity of verbs in certain savage
languages of low development. But as a matter of pure
philology " we cannot derive either the verb from the noun, or
the noun from the verb." * This writer goes on to say, " they
are co-existent creations, belonging to the same epoch and
impulse of speech." But whether or not this inference repre-
sents the truth is a matter of no importance for us. With or
without verbs, primitive man would have been able to pre-
dicate— in the one case after the manner of children who
have just begun to learn the use of them, and in the other
case after the manner of those savages recently mentioned, who
throw upon their nouns, in conjunction with pronouns, the
office of verbs.

Seeing that my psychological opponents have laid so
much stress upon the substantive verb as this is used by the
Romance languages in formal predication, I will here devote
a paragraph to its special consideration from a philological
point of view. It will be remembered that I have already
pointed out the fallacy which these opponents have followed
in confounding the substantive verb, as thus used, with the
copula — it being a mere accident of the Romance languages
that the two are phonetically identified. Nevertheless, even
after this fallacy has been pointed out to them, my opponents
may seek to take refuge in the substantive verb itself: forced
to acknowledge that it has nothing especially to do with
predication, they may still endeavour to represent that
elsewhere, or in itself, it represents a high order of cc nceptual
thought. This, of course, I allow ; and if, as my opponents
assume, the substantive verb belonged to early, not to say
* Sayce, Introduction, d~c.

THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY. 309

primitive modes of speech, I should further allow that it
raises a formidable difficulty in the otherwise even path of
evolutionary explanation. But, as a matter of fact, these
writers are no less mistaken about the primitive nature of the
substantive verb itself, than they are upon the function which
it accidentally discharges in copulation.* In order to prove
this, or to show that the substantive verb is reall}' very far
from primitive, I will furnish a few extracts from the writings
of philological authorities upon the subject.

" Whatever our a priori estimate of the power of the
verb-substantive may be, its origin is traced by philology to
very humble and material sources. The Hebrew verbs nin
ijioua) or T\\r\ ijuiia) may very probably be derived from an
onomatopoeia of respiration. The verb kauia, which has the
same sense, means primitively 'to stand out,' and the verb
koum, 'to stand,' passes into the sense of 'being.' In
Sanskrit, as-ini (from which all the verbs-substantives in the
Indo-European languages are derived, as djA, s?im, am ; Zend
ahnii ; Lithuanic, esini, Icelandic, em, &c.) is, prop?rl\'
speaking, no verbal root, but ' a formation on the demonstra-
tive pronoun sa, the idea meant to be conveyed being simpK'
that of local presence.' And of the two other roots used for
the same purpose, namely, bhn ((p{no,///i, &c.) and st/id {stare,
&c.), the first is probably an imitation of breathing, and the
second notoriously a physical verb, meaning ' to stand up.'
May we not, then, ask with Bunsen, 'What is to be in all
languages but the spiritual ization of ivalking or standing
or eating?' " t

Again, to quote only one other authoritj' : — ■" In closing,
for the present, the discussion of this extensive subject, it is
proposed to make a few remarks upon the so-called verb-
substantive, respecting the nature and functions of which
there has perhaps been more misapprehension than about an}-
other clement of language. It is well known that man\-

• I refer the reader to what is said on liotii tliosc a-pccts of tin- vcrl> in
question by my opponents (see pp. 165-167.)
t Farrar, Ori'^in 0/ Language, pp. 105, 106.

310 MEXTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAN.

t^rammarians have been accustomed to represent this element
as forming the basis of all verbal expression, and as a neces-
sary ingredient in every logical proposition. It would seem
to follow, from this statement, that nations so unfortunate
as to be without it, could neither employ verbal expression
nor frame a logical proposition. Mow far this is the case
will be seen hereafter : at present we shall make some brief
remarks on this verb, and on the substitutes usually employed
in dialects where it is formally wanting. It will be sufficient
to produce a few prominent instances, as the multiplying of
examples from all known languages would be a mere repe-
tition of the same general phenomena.

" In the portion of the essay relating to the Coptic, it was
observed: 'What are called the auxiliary and substantive
verbs in Coptic are still more remote from all essential verbal
character (than the so-called verbal roots). On examination
they will almost invariably be found to be articles, pronouns,
pa.ticles, or abstract nouns, and to derive their supposed
verbal functions entirely from their accessories, or from what
the\' imply.' In fact any one who examines a good Coptic
grammar or dictionary will find that there is nothing formally
corresponding to our am, art, is, zaas, &c., though there is a
counterpart to Lat. Jieri {sthopi) and another to poui {chi,
neuter passive of che) ; both occasionally rendered to be,
which, however, is not their radical import. The Egyptians
were not, however, quite destitute of resources in this matter,
but had at least half a dozen methods of rendering the
Greek verb-substantive when they wished to do so. The
element most commonly employed is the demonstrative pe,
tc, ne ; used also in a slightly modified form for the definite
article ; pe = is, having reference to a subject in the singular
masculine ; te, to a singular feminine ; and ue = are, to both
genders in the plural. The past tense is indicated by the
addition of a particle expressing remoteness. Here, then, we
find as the counterpart of the verb-substantive an element
totally foreign to all the received ideas of a verb ; and that
instead of its being deemed necessary to say in formal terms

THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY. 3II

" Petrus est,' ' Maria est,' ' Homines sunt,' it is quite sufficient,
and perfectly intelligible, to saj', ' Petrus hie,' ' Maria hasc,'
' Homines hi.' The above forms, according to Champollion
and other investigators of ancient hieroglyphics, occur in the
oldest known monumental inscriptions, showing plainly that
the ideas of the ancient Egyptians as to the method of
expressing the category to be, did not exactly accord with
those of some modern grammarians. . . . Ever}' Semitic
scholar knows that personal pronouns are employed to
represent the verb-substantive in all the known dialects,
exactly as in Coptic, but with less variety of modification.
In this construction it is not necessary that the pronoun
should be of the same person as the subject of the proposition.
It is optional in most dialects to say either ego ego, nos nos,
for ego sum, nos siuntis, or ego ilk, nos Hit. The phrase ' Ye
are the salt of the earth,' is, in the Syriac version, literally
'You they {i.e. the persons constituting) the salt of the earth.'
Nor is this employment of the personal pronoun confined to
the dialects above specified, it being equally found in Basque,
in Galla, in Turco-Tartarian, and various American languages.
.... It is true that the Malayan, Javanese, and Malagassy
grammarians talk of words signifying to be; but an attentive
comparison of the elements which they profess to give as
such, shows clearly that they are no verbs at all, but simply
pronouns or indeclinable particles, commonly indicating the
time, place, or manner of the specified action or relation. It
is not therefore easy to conceive how the mind of a Philippine
islander, or of any other person, can supply a word totally
unknown to it, and which there is not a particle of evidence
to show that it was ever thought of. ... A verb-substantive,
such as is commonly conceived, vivifying all connected
speech, and binding together the terms of every l(\gical
proposition, is much upon a footing with the phlogiston of the
chemists of the last generation, regarded as a necessary
pabulum of combustion, that is to say, vox et praterea mini.
. . . If a given subject be 'I,' 'thou,' 'he,' 'this,' 'that,'
'one ; ' if it be 'here,' ' there,' ' yonder,' ' thus,' ' in,' 'on,' 'at,'

312 MEX7-AL EVOLUTIOX IN MAX.

'by;' if it 'sits,' 'stands,' 'remains,' or 'appears,' \vc need
no ghost to tell us that it is, nor any grammarian or
metaphysician to proclaim that recondite fact in formal
terms." *

Having thus briefly considered the philology of predicative
words, we must next proceed to the not less important matter
of the philology of predication itself And here we shall find
that the evidence is sufficiently definite. We have already
seen good reason for concluding that what Grimm has called
the "antediluvian" pronominal roots were the phonetic
equivalents of gesture-signs — or rather, that they implied
accompanying gesture-signs for the conveyance of their
meaning. Now, it is on all hands allowed that these
pronominal roots, or demonstrative elements, afterwards
became attached to nouns and verbs as affixes or suffixes,
and so in older languages constitute the machinery both of
declension and conjugation. Thus, we can trace back, stage
by stage, the form of predication as it occurs in the most
highly developed, or inflective, languages, to that earliest
stage of language in general, which I have called the
indicative. In order to show this somewhat more in detail,
I will begin by sketching these several stages, and then
illustrate the earliest of them that still happen to survive by
quoting the modes of predication which they actually present.

As we thus trace language backwards, its structure is
found to undergo the following simplification. First of all,
auxiliary words, suffixes, affixes, prepositions, copulas,
particles, and, in short, all inflections, agglutinations, or
other parts of speech which are concerned in the indication
of relationship between the other component parts of a
sentence, progressively dwindle and disappear. When these,
which I will call relational words, are shed, language is left
with what may be termed object-words (including pronominal
words), attributive-words, action -words, and words expressive
of states of mind or body, which, therefore, may be designated

* Garnett, On the Xatitrc and Analysis of the IWd, /'7'oc. PhUo. Soc, vol. iii.

THE WITXESS OF PHILOLOGY. 3 '3

condition-words. Roughly speaking, this classification corre-
sponds with the grammatical nouns, pronouns, adjectives,
active verbs, and passive verbs ; but as our regress through
the history of language necessitates a total disregard of all
grammatical forms, it will conduce to clearness in my
exposition if we consent to use the terms suggested.

The next thing we notice is that the distinction between
object-words and attributive-words begins to grow indistinct,
and eventually all but disappears: substantives and adjectives
are fused in one, and whether the resulting word is to be
understood as subject or predicate — as the name of the object
or the name of a quality — depends upon its position in the
sentence, upon the tone in which it is uttered, or, in still
earlier stages, upon the gestures by which it is accompanied.
Thus, as Professor Sayce remarks, "the apposition of two
substantives [and, a fortiori, of two such partly or wholly
undifferentiated words as we are now contemplating] is the
germ out of which no less than three grammatical conceptions
have developed — those of the genitive, of the predicate, and
of the adjective." *

While this process of fusion is being traced in the case of
substantives and adjectives, it becomes at the same time
observable that the definition of verbs is gradually growing
more and more vague, until it is difficult, and eventually
impossible, to distinguish a verb at all as a separate part of
speech.

Thus we are led back by continuous stages, or through
greater and greater simplifications of language-structure, to a
state of things where words present what naturalists might
term so generalized a type as to include, each within itself, all
the functions that afterwards severally devolve upon different
parts of speech. Like those animalcules which are at the same
time but single cells and entire organisms, these arc at the
same time single words and independent sentences. More-
over, as in the one case there is life, in the other case there
is meaning; but the meaning, like the life, is vague and

• Snycc, fntrodticlioii, C'-c, i. 415-

314 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX.

uncvolvcd : the sentence is an organism without organs, and
is gcnerah"zed only in the sense that it is protophismic. In
view of these facts (which, be it observed, are furnished by
languages still existing, as well as by the philological record
of languages long since extinct) it is impossible to withhold
assent from the now universal doctrine of philologists —
" language diminishes the farther wc look back in such a
way, that we cannot forbear concluding it must once have
had no existence at all."*

From all the evidence which has now been presented
showing that aboriginally words were sentences, it follows
that aboriginally there can have been no distinction between
terms and propositions. Nevertheless, although this follows
deductively from the general truth in question, it is desirable
that we should study in more detail the special application of
the principle to the case of formal predication, seeing that, as
so often previously remarked, this is the place where my
opponents have taken their stand. The reader will remember
that I have already disposed of their assertions with regard to
the copula. It will now be my object to show that their
analysis is equally erroneous where it is concerned with both
the other elements of which a formal proposition consists.
Not having taken the trouble to acquaint themselves with the
results of linguistic research, and therefore relying only on
what may be termed the accidents of language as these happen
to occur in the Aryan branch of the great language-tree, these
writers assume that a proposition must always and everywhere
have been thrown into the precisely finished form in which it
was analyzed by Aristotle. As a matter of fact, however, it
is now well known that such is not the case ; that the form of
predication as we have it in our European languages has been
the outcome of a prolonged course of evolution ; and that in
its most primitive stage, or in the earliest stage which happens
to have been preserved in the paUeontology of language,
predication can scarcely be said to have been differentiated

* Geiger, Development of the Human Race, English trans., p. 22.

THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY. 315

from what I have called indication. For the sake of placing
this important fact beyond the reach of doubt, I will begin by-
quoting the statements of a few among the leading authorities
upon the philology of the subject.

"Primitive man would not trouble himself much with such
propositions as ' Man is mortal,' ' Gold is heavy,' which are a
source of such unfailing delight to the formal logician ; but if
he found it necessary to employ permanent attribute-words,
would naturally throw them into what is called the attributive
form, by placing them in immediate proximity with the noun,
whose inflections they would afterwards assume. And so the
verb gradually came to assume the purely formal function of
predication. The use of verbs denoting action necessitated
the formation of verbs to denote ' rest,' 'continuance in state,'
and when, in course of time, it became necessary in certain
cases to predicate permanent as well as changing attributes,
these words were naturally employed for the purpose, and
such a sentence as 'The sun continues bright' was simply 'The
bright sun ' in another form. By degrees these verbs became
so worn away in meaning, gradually coming to signify simple
existence, that at last they lost all vestiges of meaning
whatever, and came simply to be marks of predication. Such
is the history of the verb ' to be,' which in popular language
has entirely lost even the sense of ' existence.' Again, in a
still more advanced state, it was found necessary to speak, not
only of things, but of their attributes. Thus such a sentence
as 'Whiteness is an attribute of snow,' has identically the same
meaning as 'Snow is white ' and 'White snow;' and the change
of ' white ' into ' wh-itencss ' is a purely formal device to enable
us to place an attribute-word as the subject of a proposition." *

" Now comes a very important consideration, that not only
is the order of subject and predicate to a great extent con-
ventional, but that the very idea of the distinction between
subject and predicate is purely linguistic, and has no
foundation in the mind itself In the first place, there is no

* Sweet, [Vords, Loi^ic, and Grainiuar, in Trans, riiilol. Soc, 1S76, pp.
486, 487.

3l6 ME XT A L EVOLUriOX IN MAX.

necessity for a subject at all : in such a sentence as 'It rains,'
there is no subject whatever, the // and the terminal s beinL^-
merely formal signs of predication. ' It rains : therefore I
will take my umbrella,' is a perfectly legitimate train of
reasoning, but it would puzzle the cleverest logician to reduce
it to any of his figures. Again, the mental proposition is not
formed by thinking first of the subject, then of the copula, and
then of the predicate ; it is formed by thinking of the three
simultaneously. When we formulate in our minds the pro-
position 'AH men are bipeds,' we have two ideas, 'all men'
and 'an equal number of bipeds,' or, more tersely, 'as many
men, as many bipeds,' andwe think of the two ideas simul-
taneously \i.c. in appositioii\ not one after the other, as we are
forced to express them in speech. The simultaneity of con-
ception is what is expressed by the copula in logic, and by
the various forms of sentences in language. It by no means
follows that logic is entirely destitute of value, but we shall
not arrive at the real substratum of truth until we have
eliminated that part of the science which is really nothing
more than an imperfect analysis of language." *

Again, as a result of his prolonged study of some of the
most primitive forms of language still extant among the
Bushmen of South Africa, Dr. Bleek entertains no doubt
whatever that aboriginally the same word, without alteration,
implied a substantival or a verbal meaning, and could be used
indififercntl}' also as an adjective, adverb, &c.t That is to
say, primitive words were sentence-words, and as such were
used by early man in just the same way as young children
use their hitherto undifferentiated signs, Byby — sleep, sleeping,
to sleep, sleeper, asleep, sleepy, &c. ; and, b}' connotativc ex-
tension, bed, bolster, bed-clothes, &c.

Lastly, as already indicated, we are not left to mere
inference touching the aboriginal state of matters with regard
to predication. For in many languages still existing we find
the forms of predication in such low phases of development, that

* Sweet, loc. cit., pp. 489, 490.

t Bleek, Ursprung dcr Sprache, s. 69, 70.

THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY. 317

they bring us within easy distance of the time when there can
have been no such forms at all. Even Professor INIax Mliller
allows that there are still existing languages "in which there
is as yet no outward difference between what we call a root,
and a noun or a verb. Remnants of that phase in the growth
of language we can detect even in so highly developed a
language as Sanskrit." Elsewhere he remarks : — '' A child
says, ' I am hungry," without an idea that / is different from
Jiungry, and that both are united by an auxiliary verb. . . .
A Chinese child would express exactly the same idea by one
word, ' Shi,' to cat, or food, &c. The only difference would be
that a Chinese child speaks the language of a child, an
English child the language of a man." *

It is no doubt remarkable that the Chinese should so long
have retained so primitive a form ; but, as we know, the
functions of predication have here been greatly assisted by
devices of syntax combined with conventionally significant
intonation, which really constitute Chinese a well-developed
language of a particular type. Among peoples of a much
lower order of mental evolution, however, we are brought into
contact with still more rudimentary forms of predication,
inasmuch as these devices of syntax and intonation have not
been evoh'ed. As previously stated, the most primitive of
all actually existing forms of predication where articulate
language is concerned, is that wherein the functions of a verb
are undertaken by the apposition of a noun with what is
equivalent to the genitive case of a pronoun. Thus, in
Dayak, if it is desired to say, " Thy father is old," " Thy father
looks old," &c., in the absence of verbs it is needful to frame
the predication by mere apposition, thus : — " Father-of-thee,
age-of-him." Or, to be more accurate, as the .syntax follows
that of gesture-language in placing the predicate before the
subject, we should translate the proposition into its most
exact equivalent by saying, " His age, thy father." SimilarK',
if it is required to make such a statement as that "lie is
wearing a white jacket," the form of the statement would be,

* Siicncc of Thoui^ht, [i. 241.

3l8 MENTAL EVOLUriOX IX MAX.

" He-with-\\iiitc with-jackct," or, as wc might perhaps more
tersely translate it, " He jackcty whitey." *

Again, in Fecjcc language the functions of a verb may
be discharged by a noun in construction with an oblique pro-
nominal suffix, e.g., lo!)ia-qii = \\c3.rt or will-of-mc, = I will.t

So likewise, "almost all philologists who have paid
attention to the Polynesian languages, concur in observing
that the divisions of parts of speech received by European
grammarians are, as far as external form is concerned,
inapplicable, or nearly so, to this particular class. The same
element is admitted to be indifferently substantive, adjective,
verb, or particle." % "I will eat the rice," would require to be
rendered, " The-cating-of-me-the-rice= My eating will be of
the rice." "The supposed verb is, in fact, an abstract noun,
including in it the notion of futurity of time in construction
with an oblique pronominal suffix ; and the ostensible object
of the action is not a regimen in the accusative case, but an
apposition. It is scarcely necessary to say how irreconcilable
this is with the ordinary grammatical definition of a transitive
verb ; and that, too, in a construction where we should expect
that true verbs would be infallibly employed, if any existed
in the language." § And, not to overburden the argument
with illustrations, it will be enough to add with this writer,
' there can be no question that nouns in conjunction with
oblique cases of pronouns may be, and, in fact, are employed
as verbs. Some of the constructions above specified admit
of no other analysis ; and they are no accidental partial
phenomena, but capable of being produced by thousands." ||

It would be easy to multiply quotations from other
authorities to the same effect ; but these, I think, are enough
to show how completely the philology of predication destroys
the philosophy of predication, as this has been presented by

* Steinthal, Charakteristik, drc, 165, 173.
t Ganiett, Philological Essays, p. 310.
% Ibid., p. 3"-
§ Ibid., p. 312.
[i Ibid., p. 314.

THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY. 319

illy opponents. Not only, as already shown, have they been
misled by the verbal accident of certain languages with which
they happen to be familiar identifying the copula with the
verb " to be " (which itself, as we have also seen, has no
existence in many languages) ; but, as we now see, their
analysis is equally at fault where it deals with the subject and
predicate. Such a fully elaborated form of proposition as
" A negro is black," far from presenting " the simplest element
of thought," is the demonstrable outcome of an enormously
prolonged course of mental evolution ; and I do not know
a more melancholy instance of ingenuity misapplied than is
furnished by the arguments previously quoted from such
writers, who, ignoring all that we now know touching the
history of predication, seek to show that an act of predication
is at once " the simplest element of thought," and so hugely
elaborate a process as they endeavour to represent. The
futility of such an. argument may be compared with that of
a morphologist who should be foolish enough to represent
that the Vertebrata can never have descended from the
Protozoa, and maintain his thesis by ignoring all the inter-
mediate animals which are known actually to exist.

Take an instance from among the quotations previously-
given. It will be remembered that the challenge which my
opponents have thrown down upon the grounds of logic and
psychology, is to produce the brute which " can furnish the
blank form of a judgment — the ' is ' in ' A is B.' " *

Now, I cannot indeed produce a brute that is able to
supply such a form ; but I have done what is very much more
to the purpose : I have produced man)^ nations of still
existing men, in multitudes that cannot be numbered, who
arc as incapable as any brute of supplying the blank form
that is required. Where is the "is," in "Agc-of-him h'athcr-
of-thcc " = " His-age-thy-father " = " Thy-father-is-old " ?
Or, in still more primitive stages of human utterance, how
shall we extract the blank form of predication from a
"sentence-word," where there is not only an absence of an\'
*■ .Sl-c Chapter on Spiccli, p. i6().

320 ME XT A L EVOLUTION IS MAX.

copula, but also an absence of any differentiation between the
subject and the predicate? The truth, in short, is, as now
so repeatedly shown, that not only the brute, but likewise the
young child — and not only the young child, but likewise
early man — and not only early man, but likewise savage man
— are all and equally unable to furnish the blank form of
predication, as this has been slowly elaborated in the highest
ramifications of the human mind.

Of course all this futile (because erroneous) argument on
the part of my opponents, rests upon the analysis of the proposi-
tion as this was given in the Aristotelian system of logic — an
analysis which, in turn, depends on the grammar of the Greek
language. Now, it goes without saying that the whole of this
system is obsolete, so far as any question of the origin either
of thought or of speech is concerned. I do not doubt the
value of this grammatical study, nor of the logic which is
founded upon it, provided that inferences from both are kept
within their legitimate sphere. But at this time of day to
regard as primitive the mode of predication which obtained
in so highly evolved a language as the Greek, or to represent
the " categories " of Aristotle's system as expressive of the
simplest elements of human thought, appears to me so
absurd that I can only wonder how intelligent men can have
committed themselves to such a line of argument*

* I may remark that it was Aristotle who first fell into the error of identifying
the copula with the verb to be, 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 Muller 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 thouglit.
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

THE WITXESS OF PHILOLOGY. 32 1

Quitting, then, all these old-world fallacies which were
based on an absence of information, we must accept the
analysis of predication as this has been supplied to us b}'
the advance of science. And this analysis has proved to
demonstration, that "the division of the sentence into two
parts, the subject and the predicate, is a mere accident ;
it is not known to the polysynthetic languages of America,
which herein reflect the condition of primeval speech. ... So
far as the act of thought is concerned, subject and predicate
are one and the same, and there are many languages in which
they are so treated." * Consequently, it appears to me that
the only position which remains for my opponents to adopt
is that of arguing in some such way as follows.

Freely admitting, they may say, that the issue must be
thrown back from predication as it occurs in Greek to pre-
dication as it occurs in savage languages of low development,
still we are in the presence of predication all the same. And
even when you have driven us back to the most primitive
possible form of human speech, wherein as yet there are no
parts of speech, and predication therefore requires to be
conducted in a most inefficient manner, still most obviously
it is conducted, inasmuch as it is only for the purpose of
conducting it that speech can have ever come into existence
at all.

Now, in order to meet this sole remaining position, I must
begin by reminding the reader of some of the points which
have already been established in previous chapters.

simply analyzed them in order to discover how 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, T 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 'Jhought, p. 439).

• Sayce, Introduction, &'c., ii. 229. He adds, " Had Aristotle been a Mexican,
his system of logic would have assumed a wholly different form."

Y

322 MENTAL EWLUTION IN MAN.

First of all, when seckins^ to define "the simplest element
of thought," I showed that this docs not occur in the fully
formed proposition, but in the fully formed concept ; and
that it is only out of two such concepts as elements that full
or conceptual propositions can be formed as compounds. Or,
as this was stated in the .chapter on Speech, "conceptual
names are the ingredients out of which is formed the structure
of propositions ; and, in order that this formation should take
place, there must be in the ingredients that element of concep-
tual ideation which is already present in every denominative
term." Or, yet again, as the same thing was there quoted
from Professor Sayce, " it is a truism of psychology that the
terms of a proposition, when closely interrogated, turn out to
be nothing but abbreviated judgments." *

Having thus defined the simplest element of thought as a
concept, I went on to show from the psychogenesis of children,
that before there is any power of forming concepts — and
therefore of bestowing names as denominative teims, or,
a fortiori, of combining such terms in the form of conceptual
propositions — there is the power of forming recepts, of naming
these recepts by denotative terms, and even of placing such
terms in apposition for the purpose of conveying information
of a pre-conceptual kind. The pre-conceptual, rudimentary,
or unthinking propositions thus formed occur in early child-
hood, prior to the advent of self-consciousness, and prior,
therefore, to the very condition wJiich is required for any process
of conceptual thought. Moreover, it was shown that this pre-
conceptual kind of predication is itself the product of a gradual
development. Taking its origin from the ground of gesture-
signs, when it first begins to sprout into articulate utterance
there is absolutely no distinction to be observed between " parts
of speech." Every word is what we now know as a " sentence-
word," any special applications of which can only be defined
by gesture. Next, these sentence-words, or others that are
afterwards acquired, begin to be imperfectly differentiated into
denotative names of objects, qualities, actions, and states ; and

* Introduclion, v2r=c., i, 15.

rilE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY. 323

the greater the definition which they thus acquire as parts of
speech, the more do they severally undergo that process of
connotative extension as to meaning which is everywhere the
index of a growing appreciation of analogies. Lastly, object-
words and attributive-words {i.e. denotative names of things
and denotative names of qualities or actions), come to be used
in apposition. But the rudimentary or unthinking form of
predication which results from this is due to merely sensuous
associations and the external " logic of events ; " like the
elements of which it is composed, it is not conceptual, but
pre-conceptual. With the dawn of self-consciousness, how-
ever, predication begins to become truly conceptual ; and
thus enters upon its prolonged course of still gradual develop-
ment in the region of introspective thought.

All these general facts, it will be remembered, were
established on grounds of psychological observation alone ; I
nowhere invoked the independent witness of philology. But
the time having now come for calling in this additional testi-
mony, the corroborating force of it appears to mc overwhelming.
For it everywhere proves the growth of predication to have
been the same in the race as we have found it to be in the
individual. Therefore, as in the latter case, so in the former,
I now ask — Will any opponent venture to affirm that pre-
conceptual ideation is indicative of judgment? Or, which is
the same thing, will he venture to deny that there is an all-
important distinction between predication as receptual and
predication as conceptual ? Will he still seek to take refuge
in the only position now remaining, and argue, as above
supposed, that not only in the childish appositions of denota-
tive names, but even in the earlier and hitherto undifferentiated
protoplasm of a " sentence-word," we have that faculty of
predication on which he founds his distinction between man
and brute ? Obviously, if he will not do this, his argument
is at an end, seeing that in the race, as in the individual, there
is now no longer any question as to the continuity between
the predicative germ in a sentence-word, and the full\' evolvetl
structure of a formal propf;sition. On the other hand, if he

324 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

does elect to argue thus, the following brief considerations
will effectually dislodge him.

If the term " predication " is extended from a conceptual
proposition to a sentence-word, it thereby becomes deprived
of that distinctive meaning upon which alone the whole
argument of my opponents is reared. For, when used by a
young child (or primitive man), sentence-words require to be
supplemented by gesture-signs in order to particularize their
meaning, or to complete the " predication." But, where such
is the case, there is no longer any psychological distinction
between speaking and pointing : if this is called predication,
then the predicative "category of language" has become
identified with the indicative : man and brute are conceded to
be " brothers."

Take an example. At the present moment I happen to
have an infant who has not yet acquired the use of any one
articulate word. Being just able to toddle, he occasionally
comes to grief in one way or another ; and when he does so
lie seeks to communicate the nature of his mishap by means
of gesture-signs. To-day, for instance, he knocked his head
against a table, and forthwith ran up to me for sympathy. On
my asking him where he was hurt, he immediately touched
the part of his head in question — i.e. indicated the painful
spot. Now, will it be said that in doing this the child was
predicating the seat of injury ? If so, all the distinctive
meaning which belongs to the term predicating, or the only
meaning on which my opponents have hitherto relied, is
discharged. The gesture-signs which are so abundantly
employed by the lower animals would then also require to be
regarded as predicatory, seeing that, as before shown at con-
siderable length, they differ in no respect from those of the
still speechless infant.

Therefore, whether my opponents allow or disallow the
quality of predication to sentence-words, alike and equally
this argument collapses. Their only logical alternative is to
vacate their argument altogether ; no longer to maintain that
"Speech is the Rubicon of Mind," but to concede that, as

THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY. 325

between the indicative phase of hmguagc which we share with
the lower animals, and the truly predicative phase which
belongs only to man, there is no distinction of kind to be
attributed ; seeing that, on the contrary, whether we look to
the psychogenesis of the individual or to that of the race,
we alike find a demonstrable continuity of evolution from the
lowest to the highest level of the sign-making faculty.

MEK'IAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

CHAPTER XV.

THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY {continued).

In the last chapter we have been concerned with the philology
of predication. In the present chapter I propose to consider
the philology of conception. Of course the distinction is not
one that can be very sharply drawn, because, as fully shown
in my chapter on Speech, every concept embodies a judgment,
and therefore every denominative term is a condensed pro-
position. Nevertheless, as my opponents have laid so much
stress on full or formal predication, as distinguished from
conception, I have thought it desirable, as much as possible,
to keep these two branches of our subject separate. There-
fore, having now disposed of all opposition that can possibly
be raised on the ground of formal predication, I will con-
clude by throwing the light of philology on the origin of
material predication, or the passage of receptual denotation
into conceptual denomination, as this is shown to have
occurred in the pre-historic evolution of the race.

It will be remembered that, under my analysis of the
growth of predication, much more stress has been laid in the
last chapter than in previous chapters on what I have called
the protoplasm of predication as this occurs in the hitherto
undifferentiated " sentence-word." While treating of the
psychology of predication in the chapter on Speech, I did not
go further back in my analysis than to point out how the
" nascent " or " pre-conceptual " propositions of young children
are brought about by the mere apposition of denotative terms
— such apposition having been shown to be due to sensuous

TIJE WITNESS OF FHILOLOGY. 32/

association when under the guidance of the "logic of events."
But when I came to deal with the philology of predication, it
became evident that there was even an earlier phase of the
faculty in question than that of apposing denotative terms by
sensuous association. For, as we have so recently seen,
philologists have proved that even before there were any
denotative terms respectively significant of objects, qualities,
actions, states, or relations, there were sentence-words which
combined in one vague mass the meanings afterwards appor-
tioned to substantives, adjectives, verbs, prepositions, &c., with
the consequence that the only kind of apposition which
could be called into play for the purpose of indicating the
particular significance intended to belong to such a word on
particular occasions, was the apposition of gesture-signs.
Now, I had two reasons for thus postponing our consideration
of what is undoubtedly the earliest phase of articulate sign-
making. In the first place, it seemed to me that I might
more easily lead the reader to a clear understanding of the
subject by beginning with a phase of predication which he
could most readily appreciate, than by suddenly bringing him
into the presence of a germ-like origin which is far from
being so readily intelligible. But over and above this desire
to proceed from the familiar to the unfamiliar, I had, in the
second place, a further and a better reason for not dealing
with the ultimate germ of articulate sign-making so long as
I was dealing only with the psychology of our subject. This
reason was, that in the development of speech as exhibited
by the growing child — which, of course, furnishes our only
material for a .study of the subject from a psychological point
of view — the original or germinal phase in question does not
appear to be either so marked, so important, or, comparatively
speaking, of such prolonged duration as it was in the develop-
ment of speech in the race. To use biological terms, this the
earliest phase in the evolution of speech has been greatly fore-
shortened in the ontogeny of mankind, as compared with what
it appears to have been in the phylogeny. The result, of
course, is that we should gain but an inadequate idea of its

328 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

importance, were we to estimate it by a merely psychological
analysis of what we now find in the life-history of the
individual.

It is perfectly true, as Professor Max Miiller says, that " if
an English child says ' Up,' that up is, to his mind, noun,
verb, and adjective, all in one." Nevertheless, in a young child,
from the very first, there is a marked tendency to observe the
distinctions which belong to the principal parts of speech.
The earliest words uttered by my own children have always
been nouns and proper names, such as " Star," " Mamma,"
" Papa," " Ilda," &c. ; and although, later on, some of these
earliest words might assume the functions of adjectives by
being used in apposition with other nouns subsequently
acquired (such as " Mamma-ba," for a sheep, and "Ilda-ba"
for a lamb), neither the nouns nor the adjectives came to be
used as verbs. It has been previously shown that the use of
adjectives is acquired almost as soon as that of substantives ;
and although the poverty of the child's vocabulary then often
necessitates the adjectives being used as substantives, the
substantives as adjectives, and both as rudimentary pro-
positions, still there remains a distinction between them as
object-words and quality-words. Similarly, although action-
words and condition-words are often forced into the position
of object-words and quality-words, it is apparent that the
primary idea attaching to them is that which properly belongs
to a verb. And, of course, the same remarks apply to relation-
words, such as " Up."

Take, for instance, the cases of pre-conceptual predication
Avhich were previously quoted from Mr. Sully, namely, " Bow-
wow "=" That is a dog;" "Ot" = "This milk is hot;"
"Dow" = "My plaything is down;" " Dit ki" = " Sister is
crying ; " " Dit naughty "=" Sister is naughty ; " " Dit dow ga "
= " Sister is down on the grass." In all these cases it is
evident that the child is displaying a true perception of the
different functions which severally belong to the different
parts of speech ; and so far as psychological analysis alone
could carry us, there would be nothing to show that the

THE WITNESS OF FHILOLOGY. 329

forcing of one part of speech into the office of another, which
so frequently occurs at this age, is due to anything more than
the exigencies of expression where as yet there are scarcely
any words for the conveyance of meaning of any kind. There-
fore, on grounds of psychological analysis alone, I do not see
that we are justified in arguing from these facts that a young
child has no appreciation of the difference between the
functions of the different parts of speech — any more than
we should were we to argue that a grown man has no such
appreciation when he extends the meaning of a substantive
(such as "pocket") so as to embrace the function of an
adjective on the one hand [e.g. " pocket-book "), and of a verb
on the other (^e.g. " he cannoned off the white, and pocketed
the red "). What may be termed this grammatical abuse of
words becomes an absolute necessity where the vocabulary is
small, as we well know when trying to express ourselves in a
foreign language with which we are but slightly acquainted.
And, of course, the smaller the vocabulary, the greater is such
necessity ; so that it is greatest of all when an infant is only
just emerging from its infancy. Therefore, as just remarked,
on grounds of psychological analysis alone, I do not think w^e
should be justified in concluding that the first-speaking child
has no appreciation of what we understand by parts of
speech; and it is on account of the uncertainty which here
obtains as between necessity and incapacity, that I reserved
my consideration of "sentence-words" for the independent
light which has been thrown upon them by the science of
comparative philology.

Now, when investigated by this light, it appears, as already
observed, that the protoplasmic condition of language prior to
its differentiation into parts of speech was of much longer
duration in the race than, relatively speaking, it is in the
individual. Moreover, it appears to have been of relatively
much greater importance to the subsequent development of
language. How, then, is this difference to be explained .''
I think the explanation is sufficiently simple. An infant of
to-da)' is born into the medium of alrcad)--spokcn language ;

330 MEATAL EVOLliTION IX MAX.

and long before it is itself able to imitate the words which it
hears, it is well able to understand a large number of them.
Consequently, while still literally an infant, the use of gram-
matical forms is being constantly borne in upon its mind ;
and, therefore, it is not at all surprising that, when it first
begins to use articulate signs, it should already be in posses-
sion of some amount of knowledge of their distinctive mean-
ings as names of objects, qualities, actions, states, or relations.
Indeed, it is only as such that the infant has acquired its know-
ledge of these signs at all ; and hence, if there is any wonder
in the matter, it is that the first-speaking child should exhibit
so much vagueness as it does in the matter of grammatical
distinction.

But how vastly different must have been the case of
primitive man ! The infant, as a child of to-day, finds a
grammar already made to its use, and one which it is bound
to learn with the first learning of denotative names. But
the infant, as an adult in primeval time, was under the
necessity of slowly elaborating his grammar together with
his denotative names ; and this, as we have previously seen,
he only could do by the aid of gesture and grimace.
Therefore, while the acquisition of names and forms of
speech by infantile man must have been thus in chief part
dependent on gesture and grimace, the acquisition by the
infantile child is now not only independent of gesture and
grimace, but actively inimical to both. The already-
constructed grammar of speech is the evolutionary substitute
of gesture, from which it originally arose ; and, hence, so
soon as a child of to-day begins to speak, gesture-signs
begin at once to be starved out by grammatical forms. But
in the history of the race gesture-signs were the nursing-
mothers of grammatical forms ; and the more that their
progeny grew, the greater must have been the variety of
functions which the parents were called upon to perform.
In other words, during the infancy of our race the growth
of articulate language must not only have depended, but
also rc-acted upon that of gesture-signs — increasing their

THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY. 331

number, their intricacy, and their refinement, up to the
time when grammatical forms were sufficiently far evolved
to admit of the gesture-signs becoming gradually dispensed
with. Then, of course, Saturn-like, gesticulation was devoured
by its own offspring ; the relations between signs ap[)ealing to
the eye and to the ear became gradually reversed ; and,
as is now the case with every growing child, the language
of formal utterance sapped the life of its more informal pro-
genitor.

We are now in a position to consider the exact psy-
chological relation of sentence-words to denotative and recep-
tually connotative words. It will be remembered that I have
everywhere spoken of sentence-words as representing an even
more primitive order of ideation than denotative words, and,
a fortiori, than receptually connotative words. On the other
hand, in earlier parts of this treatise I showed that both the
last-mentioned kinds of words occur in children when they
first begin to speak, and may even be traced so low down in
the psychological scale as the talking birds. This apparent
ambiguity, therefore, now requires to be cleared up. Can
anything, it may be reasonably asked, in the shape of spoken
language be more primitive than the very first words which
are spoken by a child, or even by a parrot? But, if not,
how can I agree with those philologists who conclude that
there is an even still more primitive stage of conceptual
evolution to be recognized in sentence-words .-'

Briefly, my answer to these questions is that in the
young child and the talking bird denotative-words, conno-
tative-words, and sentence-words are all equally primitive ;
or, if there is any priority to be assigned, that it must be
assigned to the first-named. But the reason of this, I hold
to be, is, that the child and the bird are both living in an
already-developed medium of spoken language, and, there-
fore, as recently stated, have only to learn their deno-
tative names by special association, while primitive man
had himself to fashion his names out of the previously
inarticulate materials of his own ps)-chul(>g}'. Now this,

332 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

as we have also seen, he only could do by such associations
of sounds and gestures as in the first instance must have
conveyed meanings of a pre-conceptually predicative kind.
In the absence of any sounds already given — and therefore
already agreed upon — as denotative names, there could be no
possibility of primitive man arbitrarily assigning such names ;
and thus there could have been no parallel to a young
child who rcccptually acquires them. In order that he
should assign names, primitive man must first have had
occasion to make his prc-conccptual statements about the
objects, qualities, &c., the names of which afterwards grew
out of these statements, or sentence-words. Adam, indeed,
gave names to animals ; but Adam was already in possession
of conceptual thought, and therefore in a psychological
position to appreciate the importance of what he was about.
But the " pre- Adamite man " who is now before us could
not possibly have invented names for their own sakes,
unless he were already capable of thinking about names
as names, and, therefore, already in possession of that very
conceptual thought which, as we have now so often seen,
depends upon names for its origin. Even with all our
own fully developed powers of conceptual thought, we
cannot name an object when in the society of men with
whose language we are totally unacquainted, without predi-
cating something about that object by means of gestures or
other signs. Therefore, without further discussion, it must
be obvious — not only, as already shown, that there is here
no exact parallel between ontogenesis and phylogenesis,
and that we have thus a full explanation why sentence-
words were of so much more importance to the infant
man than they are to the infant child, but further and
consequently — that the question whether sentence-words are
more primitive than denotative words is not a question
that is properly stated, unless it be also stated whether
the question applies to the individual or to the race. As
regards the individual of to-day, it cannot be said that
there is any priority, historical or ps^xhological, of sentence-

THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY. 333

words over denotative words, or even over reccptually conno-
tative words of a low order of extension. Nay, we have seen
that the leading principles of grammatical form adn:it of
being acquired by the child together with his acquisition of
words of all kinds, and that even talking birds are able to
distinguish between names as severally names of objects,
qualities, states, or actions.

Thus we find that to almost any order of intelligence
which is already surrounded by the medium of spoken
language, the understanding — and, in the presence of any
power of imitative utterance, the acquisition — of denotative
names as signs or marks of corresponding objects, qualities,
&c., is, if anything, a more primitive act than that of using a
sentence-word ; but that in the absence of such an already-
existing medium, sentence-words are more primitive than
denotative names. Nevertheless, it is of importance to note
how low an order of receptual ideation is capable of learning
a denotative name by special association, because this fact
proves that as soon as mankind advanced to the stage where
they first began to coin their sentence-words, they must
already have been far above the psychological level required
for the acquisition of denotative words, if only such words had
previously been in existence. Consequently, we can well under-
stand how such words would soon have begun to come into
existence through the habitual employment of sentence-words
in relation to particular objects, qualities, states, actions, &c. ;
by such special associations, sentence-words would readily
degenerate into merely semiotic marks. How long or how
short a time this genesis of relatively "empty words" out of
the primordially "full words" may have occupied, it is now
impossible to say ; but the important thing for us to notice
is, that during the whole of this time — whatever it ma>- have
been — the mind of primitive man was already far above the
psychological level which is required for the apprehension
of a denotative name.*

* In these considerations I find myself able largely to reconcile what has
always been regarded as a contradiction between ilu- views of Professor Whitney

334 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IN MAN.

So much, then, for the first class of considerations which
has been opened up by throwing upon the results of our
ps}xhological analysis the independent light of philological
research. I will now pass on to a second class, which is even
of more importance.

From the fact that sentence-words played so all-important
a part in the origin of speech, and that in order to do so they
essentially depended on the co-operation of gestures with
which they were accompanied, so that in the resulting
"complex of sound and gesture the sound had no meaning
apart from the gesture;" from these now well-established facts,
we may gain some additional light on a question previously
considered — namely, the extent to which primitive words were
"abstract" or "concrete," "particular" or "general," and, there-
fore, " receptual " or " conceptual." According to Professor Max
Muller, "the'science of language has proved by irrefragable
evidence that human thought, in the true sense of that word — -
that is, human language — did not proceed from the concrete
to the abstract, but from the abstract to the concrete. Roots,
the elements out of which all language has been constructed,
are abstract, never concrete ; and it is by predicating these
abstract concepts of this or that, by localizing them here or
there, in fact by applying the category of ovq'ia, or substance,
to the roots, that the first foundation of our language and our
thought were laid." *

Here, to begin with, there is an inherent contradiction.

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 con-
tradiction 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 w^as 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.
* Science pf Thought, pp. 432, 433.

THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY. 335

When it is said that the roots in question ah-eady presented
abstract concepts, it becomes a contradiction to add that " the
first foundations of language and thought were laid by-
applying the category of substance to the roots." For, if
these roots already presented abstract concepts, they already
presented the distinctive feature of human " thought," whose
" foundations," therefore, must have been " laid " somewhere
further back in the history of mankind. But, besides this
inherent contradiction, we have here an emphatic re-statement
of the two radical errors which I previously mentioned, and
which everywhere mar the philosophical value of Professor
Max Muller's work. The first is his tacit assumption that the
roots of Aryan speech represent the original elements of
articulate language. The second is that, upon the basis of
this assumption, the science of language has proved, by
irrefragable evidence, that human thought proceeded from
the abstract to the concrete — or, in other words, that it
sprang into being Minerva-like, already equipped with the
divine inheritance of conceptual wisdom. Now, in entertain-
ing this theory, Professor Max M tiller is not only in direct
conflict with all his philological brethren, but likewise, as we
have previously seen, often compelled to be irreconcilably
inconsistent with himself* Moreover, as we have likewise
seen, his assumption as to the aboriginal nature of Aryan
roots, on which his transcendental doctrine rests, is intrinsi-
cally absurd, and thus does not really require the united voice
of professed philologists for its condemnation. Therefore,
what the science of language does prove "by irrefragable
evidence " is, not that these roots of the Aryan branch of
language are the aboric^n'nal elements of human speech, or
indices of the aboriginal condition of human ideation; but
that, being the survivals of incalculably more primitive and
immeasurably more remote phases of word-formation, tlicy
come before us as the already-matured products of conceptual
thought — and, a fortiori, that on the basis of these roots alone
the science of language has absolutely no evidence at all to

* Pp. 281, 2S2, noli.-.

33^5 MEXTAL EVOLUTION IX MAX.

furnish as touchinfr the matter which Professor Max Mullcr
here alludes to in such positive terms. In this connection
there can be no possible escape from the tersely expressed
conclusion previously quoted from Geiger, and unanimously
entertained as an axiom by philologists in general : — " These
roots are not the primitive roots : we have perhaps in no one
single instance the first aboriginal articulate sound — just as
little, of course, the aboriginal signification." *

But the point which I now wish to bring forward is this.
We have previously seen the source of these unfortunate
utterances in Professor Max M tiller's philology appears to
reside in certain prepossessions which he exhibits in the
domain of psychology. For he adopts the assumption that
there can be no order of words which do not, by the mere
fact of their existence, imply concepts : he does not sufficiently
recognize that there may be a power of bestowing names as
signs, without the power of thinking these signs as names.
Consequently, the distinction which, on grounds of compara-
tive psychology, appears to me so obvious and so necessary —
i.e. between names as merely denotative marks due to pre-
conceptual association, and denominative judgments due to
conceptual thought — has escaped his sufficient notice. Con-
sequently, also, he has failed to distinguish between ideas
as " general " and what I have called " generic ; " or between
an idea that is general because it is born of an intentional
synthesis of the results of a previous analysis, and an idea
that is generalized] because not yet differentiated by any
intentional analysis, and therefore representing simply an
absence of conceptual thought. My child on first beginning
to speak had a generalized idea of similarity between all
kinds of brightly shining objects, and therefore called them

* Ursprmtg der Sprachc, s. 65. For the original German, see the passage as
previously quoted on page 273, note.

t As pointed out in a previous chapter, curious ambiguity attaches to this
term. For, as used in biology, it means the hifherlo 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. See also above, pp. 277-280.

THE WITXESS OF PHILOLOGY. 33/

all by the one denotative name of "star." The astronomer
has a general idea answering to his denominative name of
" star ; " but this has been arrived at after a prolonged course
of mental evolution, wherein conceptual analysis has been
engaged in conceptual classification in many and various
directions : it therefore represents the psychological antithesis
of the generalized idea, which was due to the merely sensu-
ous associations of pre-conceptual thought. Ideas, then, as
general and as generic severally occupy the very antipodes
of Mind.

All this we have previously seen. My object in here
recurring to the matter is to show that much additional light
may be thrown upon it by the philological doctrine of
"sentence-words," which Professor Max Miiller, in common
with other philologists, fully accepts.

Of all the writers on primitive modes of speech as repre-
sented by existing savages, no one is entitled to speak with
so much authority as Bleek. Now, as a result of his pro-
longed and first-hand study of the subject, he is strongly
of opinion that aboriginal words were expressive "not at all
of an abstract or general character, but exclusively concrete
or individual." By this he means that primitive ideas were
what I have called generic. For he says that had a word
been formed from imitation of the sound of a cuckoo, for
instance, it could not possibly have had its meaning limited
to the name of that bird ; but would have been extended so
as to embrace " the whole situation so far as it came within
the consciousness of the speaker." That is to say, it would
have become a generic name for the whole recept of bird, cry,
flying, &c., &c., just as to our own children the word
i9<i: = sheep, bleating, grazing, &c. Now, this process of com-
prising under one denotative term the hitherto undifferentiated
perceptions of " a whole situation so far as it comes within
the consciousness of the speaker," is the very opposite of the
process whereby a denominative term is brought to unify, by
an act of "generalization," the previously well-diffcrcntiatcd
concepts V)ctwcen which sc^me analogy is afterwards tliscovercd.

Z

338 ME. VTA L EVOLUTION IN MAN.

Therefore the absence of any parts of speech in primitive
language is due to a generic order of ideation, whereas the
unions of parts of speech in any languages which present
them is due to the generalizing order of ideation. Or, as
Bleek puts it while speaking of the comparatively undifferen-
tiated condition of South African languages, "this differs
entirely from the principle which prevails in modern English,
where a word, without undergoing any change of form, may
nevertheless belong to different parts of speech. For in
H!nglish the parts of speech, though not always differing in
sound, are always accurately distinguished in concept ; while
in the other case there was as yet no consciousness of any
difference, inasmuch as neither form nor position had hitherto
called attention to anything of the kind. For forms had not
yet made their appearance, and determinate position \i.e.
significance expressed by syntax], as, for example, in Chinese,
could only arise in a language of highly advanced internal
formation." *

Indeed, if we consider the matter, it is not conceivable
that the case could be otherwise. No one will maintain that
the sentence-words of young children exhibit the highest
elaborations of conceptual thought, on the ground that they
present the highest degree of " generality " which it is pos-
sible for articulate sounds to express. But if this is not to be
suggested as regards the infant child, what possible ground
can there be for suggesting it as regards the infant man, or
for inferring that aboriginal speech must have been expressive
of " general " and " abstract " ideas, merely because the further
backwards that we trace the growth of language the less
organized do we find its structure to be? Clearly, the contra-
diction arises from a confusion between ideas as generic and
general, or between the extension which is due to original
vagueness and that which is laboriously acquired by subse-
quent precision. An Amoeba is morphologically more "gene-
ralized " than a Vertebrate ; but for this very reason it is
the less highly evolved as an organism. The philology of

* Urspnotg dcr Sprache, s. 69, 70.

THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY. 339

sentence-words, therefore, leads us back to a state of ideation
wherein as yet the powers of conceptual thought were in that
nascent condition which betokens what I have called their
pre-conceptual stage — or a stage which may be observed in a
comparatively foreshortened state among children before the
dawn of self-consciousness.

There can be no reasonable doubt that during this stage
of mental evolution sentence-words arose in the race as they
now do in the individual, the only difference being that then
they had to be invented instead of learnt. This difference
would probably have given a larger importance to the
principle of onomatopoeia,* and certainly a much larger
importance to the co-operation of gesture, than now obtains in
the otherwise analogous case of young children. But in the
one case as in the other, I think there can be no reasonable
question that sentence-words must have owed their origin
to rcceptual and pre-conceptual apprehensions of all kinds,
whether of objects, qualities, actions, states, relations, or of
any two or more of these " categories " as they may happen
to have been blended in the hitherto undifferentiating percep-
tions of aboriginal man.

I must now allude to the results of our previous inquiry
touching " the syntax of gesture-language." For com-
parison will show that in all essential particulars the semiotic
construction of this the most original and immediately
graphic mode of communication, bears a striking resemblance
to that which is presented by the earliest forms of articulate
language, both as revealed by philology and in "baby-talk." t
Thus, as we saw, "gesture-language has no grammar pro-
perly so called. The same sign stands for ' walk,' ' walkest,'
'walking,' 'walked,' 'walker.' Adjectives and verbs are
not easily distinguished by the deaf and dumb. Indeed,
our elaborate system of parts of speech is but little applic-

* Blcek entertains no doubt on this point.

t Compare also close of Chapter VII. (pp. IJ8-144), where the children
mentioned by Dr. Hale arc shown to have adopted the syntax of gesture-language
in their spi ntancously devised spoken language.

340 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

able to the gesture-language." Next, to quote again only-
one of the numerous examples previously given to show
the primitive order of apposition, whereby the language of
gesture serves to convey a predication, "I should be punished
if I were lazy and naughty " would be put, " I lazy, naughty,
no! — lazy, naughty, I punished; yes!" Again, "to make is
too abstract for the deaf-mute ; to show that the tailor makes
the coat, or that the carpenter makes the table, he would
represent the tailor sewing the coat and the carpenter sawing
and planing the table. Such a proposition as ' Rain makes
the land fruitful ' would not come into his way of thinking :
' Rain, fall ; plants, grow,' would be his pictorial {i.e.
receptual) expression." Elsewhere this writer remarks that
the absence of any distinction between substantive, adjective,
and verb, which is universal in gesture-language, is customary
in Chinese, and not unknown even in English. "To butter
bread, to cudgel a man, to oil machinery, io pepper a dish, and
scores of such expressions, involve action and instrument in
one word, and that word a substantive treated as the root or
crude form of a verb. Such expressions are concretisms,
picture-words, gesture-words, as much as the deaf-and-dumb
man's one sign for 'butter' and 'buttering.'" And similarly
as to the substantive- adjective, in such words as iro7t-stone,
feather-grass, chesnut-korse, &c. ; here the mere apposition of
the words constitutes the one an attribution of the other, as is
the case in gesture-language. And not only in Chinese, but
as shown in the last chapter, in a great number and variety
of savage tongues this mode of construction is habitual. In
all these cases distinctions between parts of speech can be
rendered only by syntax ; and this syntax is the syntax
of gesture.

I will ask the reader to refer to the whole passage in
Avhich I previously treated of the syntax of gesture,* giving
special attention to the points just noted, and also to the
following : — invariable absence of the copula, and frequent
absence of the verb (as " Apple-father-I " = " My father gave
* Chapter VI., ]ip. 114-120.

THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY. 34!

me an apple ") ; resemblance of sentences to the polysyn-
thetic or unanalyzing type (as " I-Tom-struck-a-stick " =
" Tom struck me with a stick ") ; the device whereby syntax,
or order of apposition, is made to distinguish between pre-
dicative, attributive, and possessive meanings, and therefore
also between substantives and adjectives ; the importance of
grimace in association with gesture (as when a look of inquiry
converts an assertion into a question) ; the highly instructive
means whereby relational words, and especially pronouns, are
rendered in the gestures of pointing ; the no less instructive
manner whereby a general idea is rendered in a summation
of particular ideas (as " Did you have soup ? did you have
porridge ? " &c. = " What did }'ou have for dinner ? ") ; and the
receptual or sensuous source of all gesture-signs which are
concerned in expressing ideas presenting any degree of
abstraction (as striking the hand to signify " hard," &c.).

Hence, we may everywhere trace a fundamental similarity
between the comparatively undeveloped form of conceptual
thought as displayed in gesture, and that which philology has
revealed as distinctive of early speech. Of course in both
cases conceptual thought is there : the ideation is human,
though, comparatively speaking, immature. But the impor-
tant point to notice is the curiously close similarity between
the forms of language-structure as revealed in gesture and in
early speech. For no one, I should suppose, can avoid
perceiving the idiographic character of gesture-language,
whereby it is more nearly allied to the purely receptual
modes of communication which we have studied in the
lower animals, than is the case with our fully evolved forms
of predication. It therefore seems to me highly suggestive
that the earliest forms and records of spoken language that
we possess (notwithstanding that they arc still far from
aboriginal), follow so closely the model which is still sup[)licd
to us in the idiographic gestures of deaf-mutes. Such syntax
as there is — i.e. such a putting in order as is expressive of the
mode of ideational grouping — so nearly resembles the syntax
of gesture-language, that wc can at once perceive their

342 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

common ps}'chological source. It is on account of this
structural resemblance between gesture and early speech that
I have devoted so much space to our consideration of the
former ; and if I do not now dwell at greater length upon the
significance of the analogy, it is only because this significance
appears too obvious to require further treatment.

There is, however, one point with reference to this
analogy on which a few words must here be said. If there is
any truth at all in the theory of evolution with reference to
the human mind, we may be quite sure, from what has been
said in earlier chapters, that tone, gesture, and grimace
preceded articulation as the medium of pre-conceptual
utterance. Therefore, the structural similarity between exist-
ing gesture-language and the earliest records of articulate
language now under consideration, is presumably due, not
only to a similarity of psychological conditions, but also to
direct continuity of descent. Or, as Colonel Mallery well
puts it, while speaking of the presumable origin of spoken
language, "as the action was then the essential, and the
consequent or concomitant sound the accident, it would be
expected that a representation, or feigned reproduction of the
action, would have been used to express the idea before
the sound associated with that action could have been
separated from it. The visual onomatopoeia of gestures,
which even yet have been subjected to but slight artificial
corruption, would therefore serve as a key to the audible. It
is also contended that in the pristine days, when the sounds
of the only words yet formed had close connection with
objects and the ideas directly derived from them, signs were
as much more copious for communication than speech as the
sight embraces more and more distinct characteristics of
objects than does the sense of hearing."*

All the foregoing and general conclusions thus reached,

* Sign- Language, &'f., p. 284. On page 352, this writer further supplies a most
interesting comparison between gesture and spoken language as both are used by the
North American Indians — showing that the syntax in the two cases is identical.

THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY. 343

touching the genesis of conceptual from pre-conceptual
ideation, admit of being strikingly corroborated through
another line of philological research. On antecedent grounds
the evolutionist would suppose that "the first language-signs
must have denoted those physical acts and qualities which
w^ere directly apprehensible by the senses ; both because
these alone are directly significable, and because it was only
they that untrained human beings had the power to deal with
or the occasion to use." * In other words, if, as we suppose,
language had its origin in merely denotative sign-making,
which gradually became more and more connotative and
thus gradually more and more predicative ; obviously the
original denotations must have referred only to objects (or
actions, states, and qualities) of merely receptual significance
— i.e. " those physical acts and qualities which are directly
apprehensible by the senses." And, no less obviously, the
connotative extension of such denotative names must, for an
enormously long period, have been confined to a pre-
conceptual cognizance of the most obvious analogies — i.e.
such analogies as would necessarily thrust themselves upon
the merely sensuous perception by the force of direct
association.

Now, if this were the case, what would the evolutionist
expect to find in language as it now exists .■* Clearly, he
would expect to find more or less well-marked traces, in the
fundamental constitution of all languages, of what has been
called " fundamental metaphor " — by which is meant an
intellectual extension of terms that originally were of no
more than sensuous signification. And this is precisely what
we do find. " The whole history of language, down to our

* Whitney, Encyclo. Brit.y loc. cil., p. 770. It is interesting to note that the
psychological importance of this principle was clearly enunciated by Locke : — "It
may lead us a little towards the original of all our notions and knowledge, if we
remark how great a dependence our words have on common sensible ideas ; and
how those which are made use of to stand for actions and notions quite removed
from sense, have their rise from thence, and from obvious sensible ideas are trans-
ferred to more abstruse significations, and made to stand for ideas tliat come out
under the cognizance of our senses" (Human Understanding, iii. i. 5).

344 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

own day, is full of examples of the reduction of physical
terms and phrases to the expression of non-physical con-
ceptions and relations ; we can hardly write a line without
giving illustrations of this kind of linguistic growth. So
pervading is it, that we never regard ourselves as having read
the history of any intellectual or moral term till we have
traced it back to its physical origin." *

Now, I hold that this receptual nucleus of all our con-
ceptual terms furnishes the strongest possible evidence, not
only of the historical priority of the former, but also of what
Professor Max Mllller calls their "dire necessity" to the growth
of the latter.! In other words, the facts appear conclusively to
show that conceptual connotation (denomination) has always
had — and can only have had — a receptual core (denotation)
around which to develop. Psychological analysis has already
shown us the psychological priority of the recept ; and
now philological research most strikingly corroborates this
analysis by actually finding the recept in the body of every
concept.

How this large and general fact is to be met by my
antagonists I know not. It certainly does not satisfy the case
to say, with Professor Max Miiller, | Noire, § and those who

* Whitney, Encyclo.B7-it.,Y>.'j'jo. See aho'Nodier, Av/ions c/eLing!/is/?i/i/e, p.39;
Gainett, Essays, p. 89 ; Grimm, Gesch. d. d. Sprache, s. ^(yetseq.; PoU, Metaphern
vom Lebcn, Ss'c, Zcitschr. fur Vergl. Sprachf. Jahrg., ii., heft 2 ; Heyse, System,
d^c, s. 97 ; and Farrar, Origin of La7igitage, 130; Chapters on Language, pp. 67,
133, 204-246. lie refers to the above, and quotes the following passages from
Emerson and Carlyle : — " As the limestone of the Continent consists of infinite
masses of shells of animalcules, so language is made up of images and tropes, which
now, in their secondary use, have long ceased to remind us of their poetic origin "
{Essays on the Poets). " Language is the flesh-garment of Thought. I said that
Imagination wore this flesh-garment ; and does she not ? Metaphors are her stuff.
Examine Language. What, if you except a few primitive elements of natural
sound, what is it all but metaphors recognized as such, or no longer recognized ;
still fluid and florid, or now solid-grown and colourless? If those same primitive
elements are the osseous fixtures in the flesh-garment of Language — then are
metaphors its muscles, its tissues, and living integuments. An unmetaphorical
style you shall in vain seek for : is not your very attention a stretching-to ? " [Sartor
Resarttis, ch. x.).

+ Science of Thought, p. 329.

X Science of Language, p. 123.

§ Logos, p. 258, et seq.

THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY. 345

think with them, that in no other way could the growth of
conceptual thought have been possible ; for this is merely to
reiterate on a priori grounds the conclusion which I have
reached a posteriori. And the more that this historical
priority of denotation can thus be shown an a priori necessity
to the subsequent genesis of denomination, the greater
becomes the cogency of our evidence a posteriori that, as
a matter of fact, such has been invariably the order of
historical succession. For, if conceptual ideation differs from
receptual in kind, why this necessity for the historical priority
of the latter ? Why should denotation thus always require
to precede denomination — or receptual connotation thus
always require to precede conceptual predication — unless it
be that the one is a further and a continuous development of
the other ? Surely as well might the botanist institute a
specific distinction between the root and the flower of the
self-same plant, as the psychologist, with these results of
philological research before him, still persist in drawing a
distinction of kind between the receptual denotation of " radi-
cal elements," and the full efflorescence of conceptual thought.

A single illustration may serve to convey the force of
this argument more full)' than any abstract discussion of it.
But I will introduce the illustration with an analogous case.
The following well-established fact I quote from Geiger : —

" Man had language before he had tools. . . . On con-
sidering a word denoting an activity carried on with a tool,
we shall invariably find that this was not its original
meaning, but that it previously implied a similar activity
requiring only the natural organs. , . . This fact of the
activity with implements deriving its name from one more
simple, ancient, and brute-like, is quite universal, and I do
not know how otherwise to account for it but that the name
is older than the activity with tools which it denotes at the
present time — that, in fact, the word was already extant
before men used any other organs but the native and natural

ones The vestiges of his earliest conceptions still

preserved in language proclaim it loudly and distinctly that

34^ MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

man has developed from a state in which he had solely to
rely on the aid of his organs — a state, therefore, in which he
differed little in his habits from the brute creation, and with
respect to the enjoyment of his existence, nay, to his preser-
vation, depended almost entirely on whatever lucky chance
presented to him." *

Now, to this special illustration on the general principle of
"fundamental metaphor" it will doubtless be said — Very
interesting in itself; but, after all, it merely amounts to a
philological proof that tools arc younger than words ; that
men did not always possess tools ; that tools were gradually
invented ; and that, when invented, they were named by a
metaphorical application of words previously in use. — Well,
if we are all agreed so far, I will proceed to adduce my
illustration.

Judging from the now extensive literature which is opposed
to evolutionary teaching in the case of man, I gather that the
great majority of writers are quite as much impressed by the
moral and religious aspects of human psychology as they are
by the intellectual. Now, as already stated in the Preface,
I reserve for a future volume a full consideration of these
distinctively human faculties. In the present part of my
work I am concerned exclusively with the question as to the
origin of those powers of conceptual thought which, under any
point of view, must be regarded as the necessary and
antecedent condition to the possibility both of conscience and
religion. Nevertheless, merely for the sake of supplying an
illustration touching the point now before us, I may here fore-
stall a little of what I shall hereafter have to present in detail
touching the evidence that we have of the genesis of conscience.
And this I will do by another quotation from the same
philologist, seeing that he is an authority whom none of my
opponents can afford to ignore.

" If we examine the words, those oldest pre-historic
testimonies, we shall find that all moral notions contain

* Geiger, Address delivered before the International Congress for Archaology
atid History at Bonn, 1868.

THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY. 347

something morally indifferent." That is to say, they all
contain \\hat I have termed a " receptual core," expressive of
some simple physical process, or condition, the name of which
has been afterwards transferred, by " fundamental metaphor,"
to the moral " concept." Omitting the illustrations, the passage
continues as follows : — " But why have not the morally good
and bad their own names in language .-* Why do we know
them from something else that previously had its appellation ?
Evidently because language dates from a period when a moral
judgment, a knowledge of good and evil, had not yet dawned
in the human mind." *

Now, at present I am not concerned with this conclusion,
further than to remark that I do not see how it is to be
obviated, if our previous agreement is to stand with regard to
the precisely analogous case of the names of tools. That is
to say, if any one allows that the philological evidence is
sufficient to prove the priority of words to the tools which they
designate, consistency must constrain him also to allow that
the fundamental concepts of morality are of later origin than
the names by which they have been baptized, and in virtue
of which they must be regarded as having become concepts
at all. These names — just like the names of tools — were all
originally of nothing more than pre-conceptual significance,
serving to denote such obvious physical states or activities as
were immediately cognizable by the powers of sensuous per-
ception and direct association. Then, as the moral sense
began to dawn, and the utilitarian significance of conduct as
ethical began to be appreciated, the principles of" fundamental
metaphor " were applied to the naming of these newly found
concepts — presumably at about the same time as these same
principles were applied to the naming of newly found tools.

Now, this is only one illustration out of a practically infinite
number of others which it would be easy to quote — seeing,
indeed, as Whitney observes, that " we can hardly write a
line without giving illustrations of this kind of linguistic
growth," And whatever may be thought (at this premature

* Geiger, A Lecture to the Commercial Club o/Eraiil/ortoiithe-A/ain (1869).

34^^ MENTAL EVOLUTION TV MAN.

Stage of our inquiry) concerning the application of the
general principle before us to the special case of conscience,
it appears to me there can be no question at all that this
general principle of " fundamental metaphor " reveals the fact
of an intellectual growth from what I have called the pre-
conceptual to the conceptual phase ; and, moreover, that it
proves such a growth to have been the universal characteristic
of human faculty in those pre-historic times of which language
preserves to us the only record.*

There still remains one other department of philological

* Perhaps the most interesting department of fundamental metaphor is that
wherein the metaphor is found by philological research to have reference, not to
any natural object, quality, &c., but to a pre-existing action or gesture as already
made by man himself for the purpose of conveying information, expressing his
emotions, &c. For fundamental metaphor of this kind obviously brings us within
seeing distance of the time when the audible signs of articulations were born of
the visible signs of gesture and grimace. In illustration of this branch of our
subject I will only quote one passage ; but the reader will at once perceive how
easy it would be to furnish many other instances from the etymology of words now
in habitual use.

" The further a language has been developed from its primordial roots, which
have been twisted into forms no longer suggesting any reason for their original
selection, and the more the primitive significance of its words has disappeared, the
fewer points of contact can it retain with signs. The higher languages are more
precise because the consciousness of the derivation of most of their words is lost,
so that they have become counters, good for any sense agreed upon and for no other.

" It is, however, possible to ascertain the included gesture even in many English
words. The class represented by the word szipoxilious will occur to all readers,
but one or two examples may be given not so obvious and more immediately con-
nected with the gestures of our Indians. Tmbccile, generally applied to the weakness
of old age, is derived from the Latin in, in the sense of on, and lacilluin, a staff,
which at once recalls the Cheyenne sign for old mati [previously mentioned]. So
time appears more nearly connected with rdvoi, to stretch, when information is
given of the sign ior lo7ig time, in the Speech of Kin Che-ess, in this paper, namely,
placing the thumbs and forefingers in such a position as if a small thread was held
between the thumb and forefinger of each hand, the hands first touching each other,
and then moving slowly from each other, as if stretching a piece of gum-elastic "
(Mallery, Sign-Language, drc, p. 350). This writer also says, with reference to the
uncivilized languages which he has specially studied, " In the languages of North
America, which have not become arbitrary, to the degree exhibited by those of civil-
ized man, the connection between the idea and the word is only less obvious than that
still unbroken connection between the idea and the sign, and they remain strongly
affected by the concepts of outline, form, place, position, and feature on \^■h:ch

THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY. 349

inquiry to be considered, and its consideration will tend yet
further and most forcibly to corroborate all the general con-
clusions already attained. Hitherto we have been engaged
for the most part on what I have already called the palaeonto-
logy of human thought as revealed, fossil-like, in the linguistic
petrifactions of pre-historic man. But the science of com-
parative philology is not confined in its researches upon early
forms of speech to the bygone remnants of a distant age. On
the contrary, just like the science of comparative anatomy,
it is furnished with still existing materials for study, which are
of the nature of living organisms, and which present so many
grades of evolution that the lowest members of the series
bring us within easy distance of those aboriginal forms which
can only be studied in the fossil state. Hitherto I have
considered these lowest existing languages only with refer-
ence to their forms of predication. Here I desire to consider
them with reference to the quality of ideation that they
betoken.

In the next instalment of my work I shall have to treat of
the psychology of savages, and then it will become apparent
that there is no very precise relation to be constantly traced
between grades of mental evolution in general, and of
language-development in particular. Nevertheless there is a
general relation : and therefore it is among the lowest savages
that we meet with the lowest types of language-structure.*

gesture is founded, while they are simihir in their fertile combination of radicals.
Indian language consists of a series of words that are but slightly differentiated
parts of speech following each other in the order suggested in the mind of the
speaker without absolute laws of arrangement, as its sentences are not completely
integrated. The sentence necessitates pans of speech, and parts of speech are
possible only when a language has reached that stage where sentences are logically
constructed. The words of an Indian tongue, being synthetic or undifferentiatetl
parts of speech, are in this respect strictly analogous to the gesture elements
which enter into a sign-language. The study of the latter is therefore valuable
for comparison with the words of the former. The one langu.igc throws much
light upon the other, and neither can be studied to the best advantage without a
knowledge of the other."

* There are certain writers, such as Du I'onceau, Charlevoix, James, Apple-
yard, Threlkeld, Caldwell, &c., who have sought to re])resent that the languages
of even the lowest savages arc "highly systematic and truly philosophical," i!tc.

350

MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

In the present connection I shall have to treat of these lan-
jTuages only in so far as they throw light upon the quality
of ideation with which they are concerned, or so far as they
are related to the general principles with which we have
already been occupied. And, even as thus limited, I will
endeavour to make my exposition as brief as possible.

I will begin by supplying a few quotations from the more
competent authorities who have written upon the subject from
a linguistic point of view.

" It requires but the feeblest power of abstraction — a
power even possessed by idiots — to use a name as the
sign of a conception, e.g. to say 'sun';* — to say 'sheen,'
as the description of a phenomenon common to all shining
objects, is a higher effort, and to say ' to shine ' as expressive
of the state or act is higher still. Now, familiar as such
efforts may be to us, there is ample proof that they could
not have been so to the inventors of language, because
they are not so, even now, to some nations of mankind
after all their long millenniums of existence. Instances
of this fact have been repeatedly adduced."! Thus, for
example, the Society Islanders have separate words for

But this opinion rests on a radically false estimate of the criteria of system and
philosophy in a language. For the criteria chosen are exuberance of synonyms,
intricacies or complications of forms, &c., which are really works of a low develop-
ment. The fallacy is now acknowledged to be such by all philologists. Even
Farrar, who at first himself fell into this error {Origin of Language, p. 28), in his
subsequent work writes : — " Further examination has entirely removed this belief.
For this apparent wealth of synonyms and grammatical forms is chiefly due to the
hopeless poverty of the poi.iter of abstraction. It would not only be no advantage,
but even an impossible encumbrance to a language required for literary purposes.
The transnormal character of these tongues only proves that they are the work
of minds incapable of all subtle analysis, and following in one single direction an
erroneous and partial line of development. ... If language proves anything, it
proves that these savages must have lived continuously in a savage con-
dition " (Farrar, Chapters on Language, pp. 53, 54, who also refers to numerous
authorities).

* The term "conception" here is, of course, equivalent to my term "pre-
conception." When my daughter uttered her first denotative word "star," she
was, indeed, bestowing a name ; but it was the name of a recept, not of a
concept.

t Farrar, Chapters on Language, pp. 198, 199.

THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY. 35 1

dog's-tail, bird's-tail, sheep's-tail, &c., but no word for tail
itself — i.e. tail in general.* The Mohicans have words to
signify different kinds of cutting, but no verb " to cut ; " and
forms for " I love him," " I love you," &c., but no verb " to
love;" while the Choctanis have names for different species
of oak, but no word for the genus oak.f Again, the Aus-
tralians have no word for tree, or even for bird, fish, &c. ; |
and the Eskimo, although he has verbs which signify to
fish-seal, to fish-whale, &c., has not any verb " to fish." " Ces
langues," Du Ponceau remarks, " generalisent rarement ; " and
he shows that they have not even any verb to imply " I
will," or " I wish," although they have separate verbal forms
for " I wish to eat meat," " I wish to eat soup ; " neither have
they any general noun-substantive which means "a blow,"
although they have a variety which severally mean blows
with as many different kinds of instruments. § Similarly,
Mr. Crawford tells us, "the Malay is very deficient in abstract
words ; and the usual train of ideas of the people who speak
it does not lead them to make a frequent use even of the
few they possess. With this poverty of the abstract is
united a redundancy of the concrete," — and he gives many
instances of the same kind as those above rendered from
other languages. || So, likewise, we are told, " the dialect
of the Zulus is rich in nouns denoting different objects of
the same genus, according to some variety of colour, or
deficiency of members, or some other peculiarity," such as
"white-cow," "red-cow," " brown-cow ;" ^ and the Sechuana
has no fewer than ten words all meaning "horned cattle."**
Cheroki presents thirteen different verbs to signify different

* Mithridatcs, iii. 325, 397. See also Pott, Etyin. Forsch., ii. 167 ; and lleyse,
System, 132.

t Latham, Races of Mau, p. 376.

% Quatrefages, Rev. dcs Deux Mondes, Dec. 15, i860; Maury, La Teire et
r Homme, p. 433.

§ Mem. stir k Syst. Gram., ^'c., p. 120.

II Malay Grammar, i., p. 68, et seq.

\ Journl. Ameri. Orient, Sac., i. No. 4, p. 402.

** Casalis, Grammar, p. 7.

352 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

kinds of washing, without any to indicate "washing " itself;*
and MiHigan says that the aborigines of Tasmania had
" no words representing abstract ideas ; for each variety of
gum-tree, wattle-tree, &c., they had a name, but they had
no equivalent for the expression of ' a tree;' nei'.her could
they express abstract qualities, such as hard, soft, warm, cold,
long, short, round."!

Lastly, to give only one other example, Dr. Latham
states that a Kurd of the Zaza tribe, who furnished Dr.
Sandwith with a list of native words, was not "able to
conceive a hand or father, except so far as they were
related to himself, or something else ; and so essentially
concrete rather than abstract were his notions, that he
combined the pronoun with the substantive whenever he
had a part of the human body or a degree of consanguinity
to name," sa}'ing sere-i/iiii, " my head," and pic-min, " my
father."

Thus, as Professor Sa}'ce remarks, after alluding to
some of the above facts, " we may be sure that it was not
"the 'ideas of prime importance' which primitive man
struggled to represent, but those individual objects of which
his senses were cognizant."! And, without further multi-
plying testimony, we may now be prepared to accept
from him the general statement that, " all over the world,
indeed, wherever we come across a savage race, or an
individual who has been unaffected by the civilization
around him, we find this primitive inability to separate
the particular from the universal by isolating the individual
word, and extracting it, as it were, from the ideas habitually
associated with it." § Or, in my own phraseology, among
all primitive races still existing, we meet with what must
seem to my opponents a wholly unintelligible incapacity
to evolve a concept from any number of recepts, notvvith-

* Pickering, Indian Languages, p. 26.

t Vocabulary of the Dialects of some of the Aboriginal Tribes of Tasmania p. 34.

% Introduction, &^c., vol. ii., p. 6.

§ Ibid., vol. i., p. 379.

THE WITXESS OF PHILOLOGY. 353

standing that the latter may all be most nearly related
together, and severally named by as many denotative
signs : even with their numberless already-formed words
for different kinds of trees, the aborigines of Tasmania
could not designate "a tree." Of course they must have
had a recept of a tree, or a generic image formed out of
innumerable perceptions of particular trees — so that, for
instance, it would doubtless have surprised a Tasmanian
could he have seen a tree (even though it were a new
species for which he had no name) standing inverted
with its roots in the air and its branches in the ground.
In just the same way a dog is surprised when it first
sees a man walking on his hands : the dog will bark at
such an object because it conflicts with the generic image
which has been automatically formed by numberless percep-
tions of individual men walking on their feet. But, in the
absence of any name for trees in general, there is nothing
to show that the savage has a concept answering to " tree,"
any more than that the dog has a concept answering to " man."
Indeed, unless my opponents vacate the basis of Nominalism
on which their opposition is founded, they must acknowledge
that in the absence of any name for tree there can be no
conception of tree.

So much, then, for what Archdeacon Farrar has called
" the hopeless poverty of the power of abstraction " in savages.
Their various languages unite, in verbal testimony, to assure
us that human thought does 7iot " proceed from the abstract
to the concrete ; " but, on the contrary, that in the race, as
in the individual, receptual ideation is the precursor of con-
ceptual— denotation the antecedent of denomination, as in still
earlier stages it was itself preceded by gesticulation. Such
being the case with regard to names, it is no wonder, as
we previously found, that low savages are so extraordinarily
deficient in their forms of predication.

The palaeontology of human thought, then, as recorded
in language, incontcstibl\- proves that the origin and progress

2 \

354 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IN MAN.

of ideation in the race was psychologically identical with
what we now observe in the individual. All the stages of
ideation which we have seen to be characteristic of psycho-
genesis in a child, are thus revealed to us as having been
characteristic of psychogenesis in mankind.

First there was the indicative stage. This is proved in
two ways. On the one hand, all philologists will now agree
with Geiger — " But, what says more than anything, language
diminishes the further we look back, in such a way that wc
cannot forbear concluding it must once have had no existence
at all." * On the other hand, even if we tap the tree of
language as high up in its stem as the pronominal roots of
Sanskrit, what is the kind of ideational sap which flows
therefrom ? It is, as we have already seen, so strongl}-
suggestive of gesture and grimace that even Professor Max
Miiller allows that in it we have " remnants of the earliest
and almost pantomimic phase of language, in which language
was hardly as yet what we mean by language, namely logos,
a gathering, but only a pointing." f

Secondly, we have clear evidence of sentence-words, as
well as of what I have called the denotative phase, or the
naming of simple recepts — whether only of actions, or, as wc
may safely assume, likewise also of objects and qualities ; and
whether arbitrarily, or, as seems virtually certain, in chief part
by onomatopoeia. Both these subordinate points, however —
which are rendered more doubtful on account of the struggle
for existence among words having proved favourable to
denotative terms expressive of actions, and unfavourable to
the survival of onomatopoeia — are of comparatively little
moment to us ; the important fact is the one which is most
clearly testified to by the philological record, namely, that
the lowest strata of this record yield fossils of the lowest order
of development : the "121 concepts," appear to be, for the
most part, denotations of simple recepts.

Thirdly, higher up in the stratified deposits, we meet with

* A Lecture delivered at Frankfort, 1869.
\ Science of Thought , p. 245.

THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY. 355

overwhelming evidence of the connotative extension of these
denotative terms. Indeed, many of these terms have probably
undergone a certain amount of connotative extension as the
condition to their having survived as roots ; and, therefore, in
these lowest deposits it is difficult to be sure that an apparently
denotative term is not really a term which has undergone the
earlier stages of connotative extension. If such were the case,
we can understand the loss of any onomatopoetic significance
which it may originally have presented. But, however this
may be, there is an endless mass of evidence to prove the
subsequent and continuous growth of connotative extension
throughout the whole range of philological time.

Lastly, as regards the predicative phase, we have seen that
philology shows the same order and method to have been
followed in the race as in the child. In the growing child, as
we have seen, pre-conceptual predication is contemporary
with — or occupies the same psychological level as — the conno-
tative extension of denotative terms. Indeed, the very act
of connotation is in itself an act of predication — if in the
conceptual sphere, of conceptual predication (denomination) ;
if in the pre-conceptual, of pre-conceptual. Again, in the
psychogenesis of the child we noted how important a part
is played in the development of pre-conceptual predication
by the mere apposition of connotative terms — such apposition
being rendered inevitable by the laws of association. If A is
the connotative name for A, B the connotative name for B,
when the young child sees that A and B occur together, the
statement A B is rendered inevitable by " the logic of events ; "
and this statement is a pre-conceptual proposition. Now, in
both these respects philology yields abundant parallels. The
quotations which I have given conclusively prove that " every
word must originally have been a sentence ; " or, in my own
terminology, a pre-conceptual proposition of precisely the same
kind as that which is employed by a young child. If it be
replied that the young child is without self-consciousness,
while the primitive man was not without self-consciousness,
this would merely be to beg the whole question on which we

356 ME XT A L EVOLUTION I.V MAX.

are engaged, and, moreover, to beg it in tlie teeth of every
antecedent probability, as well as of every actual analogy, to
which appeal can possibly be made. If it be true — and who
will venture to doubt it ? — that " language diminishes the
further we look back, in such a way that we cannot forbear
concluding it must once have had no existence at all," will
it be maintained that the man-like being who was then unable
to communicate with his fellows by means of any words at
all was gifted with self-consciousness ? Should so absurd a
statement be ventured, it would be fatal to the argument of
my adversaries ; for the statement would imply, either that
concepts may exist without names, or that self-consciousness
may exist without concepts. The truth of the matter is that
philology has proved, in a singularly complete manner, the
origin and gradual development in time, first of pre-conceptual
communication, and next of the self-consciousness which sup-
plied the basis of conceptual predication. No wonder, there-
fore, as Professor Max Muller somewhat naively observes,
" it may be said that the first step in the formation of names
and concepts is very imperfect. So it is." Truly "to name
the act of carrying by a root formed from sounds which
accompany the act of carrying a heavy load, is a far more
primitive act than to fix an attribute by a name " conceptu-
ally applied. So primitive, indeed, is nomination of this
kind, that I defy any one to show wherein it differs psycho-
logically from what I have called the denotation of a young
child, or even of a talking bird.

And, having reduced the matter to this issue so far as the
results of philology are concerned, I may fitly conclude by
briefly indicating the principal point which appears to
divide my opinions from those of the eminent philologist
just alluded to — if not also from those of the majority of my
psychological opponents. Briefly, the point is that on the
other side an unwarrantable assumption is made — to wit, that
conceptual thought is an antecedent condition, sine qua non,
to any and every act of bestowing a name ; and, a fortiori, to
any and every act of predication. This is the fundamental

THE WITXESS OF PHILOLOGY. 357

assumption, which, whether openly expressed or covertly
implied, serves as the basis of the whole superstructure of my
opponents' argument. Now, I claim to have shown, by a
complete inductive proof, that this assumption is not only
unwarrantable in theory, but false in fact. There are names
and names. Not every name that is bestowed betokens con-
ceptual thought on the part of the namer. Alike from the
case of the talking bird, of the young child, and of early man
(so far as he has left any traces of his psychology in the
structure of language), I have demonstrated that prior to the
stage of denomination there are the stages of indication,
denotation, and receptual connotation. These are the psycho-
logical stepping-stones across that " Rubicon of Mind," which,
owing to their neglect, has seemed to be impassable. The
Concept (and, a foj'tiori, the Proposition) is not a structure
of ideation which is presented to us without a developmental
history. Although it has been uniformly assumed by all my
opponents " that the simplest element of thought " can have
had no such history, the assumption is, as I have said,
directly contradicted by observable fact. Had the case been
otherwise — had the concept really been without father and
without mother, without beginning of days or end of life —
then truly a case might have been shown for regarding it as
an entity S7ii generis, destitute of kith or kin among all the
other faculties of mind. But, as we have now so fully seen,
no such unique exception to the otherwise uniform process of
evolution can here be maintained : the phases of development
which have gradually led up to conceptual thought admit of
being as clearly traced as those which have led to an}' other
product, whether of life or of mind.

Here, then, I bring to a close this brief and imperfect
rendering of the " Witness of Philology." But, brief and
imperfect as the rendering is, I am honestly unable to sec
how it is conceivable that the witness itself could have been
more uniform as to its testimony, or more multifarious as to
its facts — more consistent, more complete, or more altogether
overwhelming than we have found it to be. In almost every

358 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

single respect it has corroborated the results of our psycho-
logical analysis. It has come forward like a living thing,
which, in the very voice of Language itself, directly and
circumstantially narrates to us the actual history of a process
the constituent phases of \vhich we had previously inferred.
It has told us of a time when as yet mankind were altogether
speechless, and able to communicate with one another only by
means of gesticulation and grimace. It has described to us
the first articulate sounds in the form of sentence-words, with-
out significance apart from the pointings by which they were
accompanied. It has revealed the gradual differentiation of
such a protoplasmic form of language into " parts of speech ; "
and declared that these grammatical structures were originally
the offspring of gesture-signs. More particularly, it has
shown that in the earliest stages of articulate utterance
pronominal elements, and even predicative words, were used
in the impersonal manner which belongs to a hitherto un-
developed form of self-consciousness — primitive man, like
a young child, having therefore spoken of his own per-
sonality in objective terminology. It has taught us to find
in the body of every conceptual term a pre-conceptual core ;
so that, as the learned and thoughtful Garnett says, " niJii in
oratione quod non priiis in sensn may now be regarded as an
incontrovertible axiom." * It has minutely described the
whole of that wonderful aftergrowth of articulate utterance
through many lines of divergent evolution, in virtue of which
all nations of the earth are now in possession, in one degree
or another, of the god-like attributes of reason and of speech.
Truly, as Archdeacon Farrar says, " to the flippant and the
ignorant, how ridiculous is the apparent inadequacy of the
origin to produce such a result." t But here, as elsewhere, it
is the method of evolution to bring to nought the things
that are mighty by the things that are of no reputation ; and
when we feel disposed to boast ourselves in that we alone may
claim the Logos, should we not do well to pause and remember
in what it was that this our high prerogative arose .'' "So hat

* Essavs, p. 89. t Chapters on Language, p. 133.

THE WITNESS OF PHILOLOGY. 359

auch keine Sprache ein abstractum, zu dem sie nicht durch Ton
und Gefiihl gelangt ware." * To my mind it is simply incon-
ceivable that any stronger proof of mental evolution could be
furnished, than is furnished in this one great fact by the whole
warp and woof of the thousand dialects of every pattern which
are now spread over the surface of the globe. We cannot
speak to each other in any tongue without declaring the
pre-conceptual derivation of our speech ; we cannot so much
as discuss the " origin of human faculty " itself, without
announcing, in the very medium of our discussion, what that
origin has been. It is to Language that my opponents have
appealed : by Language they are hopelessly condemned.

* Herder, Abhaiidl., s. 122.

\60 MENTAL EVOLUTION LV MAN.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE TRANSITION IN THE RACE.

At this point I shall doubtless be expected to offer some
remarks on the probable mode of transition between the brute
and the human being. Having so fully considered both the
psychology and philology of ideation, it may be thought
that I am now in a position to indicate what I suppose to
have been the actual stepping-stones whereby an intelligent
species of ape can be conceived to have crossed " the Rubicon
of Mind." But, if I am expected to do this, I might
reasonably decline, for two reasons.

In the first place, the attempt, even if it could be successful,
would be superfluous. The only objection I have had to meet
is one which has been raised on grounds of psychology. This
objection I have met, and met upon its own grounds. If I
have been successful, for the purposes of argument nothing
more remains to be said. If I have not been successful, it is
obviously impossible to strengthen my case by going beyond
the known facts of mind, as they actually exist before us, to
any hypothetical possibilities of mind in the dim ages of an
unrecorded past.

In the second place, any remarks which I have to offer
upon this subject must needs be of a wholly speculative or
unverifiable character. As well might the historian spend
his time in suggesting hypothetical histories of events known
to have occurred in a pre-historic age : his evidence that such
and such events must have occurred may be conclusive, and
yet he may be quite in the dark as to the precise conditions

THE TRANSITION IN THE RACE. 36 1

which led up to them, the time which was occupied by them,
and the particular method of their occurrence. In such cases
it often happens that the more certain an historian may.be
that such and such an event did take place, the greater is the
number of ways in which he sees that it might have
taken place. Merely for the sake of showing that this is
likewise the case in the matter now before us, I will devote
the present chapter to a consideration of three alternative —
and equally hypothetical — histories of the transition. But,
from what has just been said, I hope it will be understood
that I attach no argumentative importance to any of these
hypotheses.

Sundry German philologists have endeavoured to show
that speech originated in wholly meaningless sounds, which in
the first instance were due to merely physiological conditions.
In their opinion the purely reflex mechanisms connected with
vocalization would have been sufficient to yield not only many
differences of tone under different states as to suffering,
pleasure, effort, &c., but even the germ of articulation in the
meaningless utterance of vowel sounds and consonants.
Thus, for example, Lazarus says : — " Der Process der eigen-
thiimlich menschlichen Laut-Erzeugung, die Articulation
der Tone, die Hervorbringung von Vocalen und Consonanten,
ist demnach auf rein physiologischem Boden gegeben — in der
urprlinglichen Natur des menschlichen physischen bevvegten
Organismus begriindet, und wird vor aller Willkiir und Absicht
also ohne Einwirkung des Geistes obwohl auf Veranlassung von
GefUhlen und Empfindungen vollzogen." *

This, it will be observed, is the largest possible extension
of the interjcctional theory of the origin of speech. It assumes
that not only inarticulate, but also articulate sounds were
given forth by the " sprachlosen Urmenschen," in the way of
instinctive cries, wholly destitute of any semiotic intention.
By repeated association, however, they arc supposed to have
acquired, as it were automatically, a semiotic value. For,
* Das Leben der Seek, ii. 47.

362 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

to quote Professor Fricdrich Muller, " Sie sind zwar An-
fangs bedeutungslos : sic konncn abcr bedeutungsvoll werden.
Alias, was in unserem Inncren vorgeht, wird von der Seele
wahrgenommcn. Sobald durch gewisse aiissere Einflusse
in Folge einer Combination mehrerer Empfindungen einc
Anschauung entstcht, nimmt die Seele dieselbe an, Diese
Anschauung hat — in Folge der durch einc dcr Empfindungen
hervorgebrachten Reflexbewegung in den Stimmorganen —
cinen Laut zum Beglciter, welcher in gleicher Weise wie
die Anschauung von der Seele wahrgenommcn wird, diese
beiden Wahrnchmungen, namlich jene der Anschauung und
jene des Lautes, fcrbindoi sich miteinander vermdgc ihrer
GleicJizeitigkeit im menschlichen Bewusstsein, es findet also
eine Association der Laut-Anschauung mit jener der SacJi-
Anschauung statt, die Elemente der Sach-Anschauung be-
kommen an der Laute-Anschauung einen festen Mittel-
punkt, durch den die Anschmmng zur Vorstellung sich
entwickelt. Wir sind damit bei der menschlichen Sprache
angelangt, welche also ihrem Wesen nach auf der Stib-
stituining eines Klang-odQr TonhWdes fiir das Bild einer
Anschauung beruht." *

Now, without at all doubting the important part w^hich
originally meaningless sounds may have played in furnishing
material for vocal sign-making, and still less disputing the
agency of association in the matter, I must nevertheless
refuse to accept the above hypothesis as anything like a full
explanation of the origin of speech. For it manifestly ignores
the whole problem which stands to be solved — namely, the
genesis of those powers of ideation which first put a soul of
meaning into the previously insignificant sounds. Nearly all
the warm-blooded animals so far share with mankind the
same physiological nature as to give forth a variety of vocal
sounds under as great a variety of mental states. Therefore,
if in accordance with the above hypothesis we regard all such
sounds as meaningless (or arising from the " purely physio-
logical basis " of reflex movement), the question obviously

* Gnuidriss der Sprachunssenschaft , i. 35, 36.

THE TRANSITIOX IN THE RACE. 363

presents itself, Why have not the lower animals developed
speech ? According to the above doctrine, aboriginal and
hitherto speechless man started without any superiority in
respect of the sign-making faculty, and thus far precisely
resembled what is taken to be the present psychological
condition of the lower animals.* Why, then, out of the same
original conditions has there arisen so enormous a difference
of result ? If, in the case of mankind, associations of mean-
ingless sounds with particular states, objects, &c., led to a
substitution of the former for the latter, and thus gave to
them the significance of names, how are we to account for the
total absence of any such development in brutes ? To me it
appears that this is clearly an unanswerable difficulty ; and
therefore I do not wonder that the so-called interjectional
theory of the origin of speech has brought discredit on the
whole philosophy of the subject. But, as so often happens
in philosophical writings, we have here a case where an
important truth is damaged by imperfect or erroneous
presentation. All the principles set forth in the above
hypothesis are sound in themselves, but the premiss from
which they start is untrue. This premiss is, that aboriginal
man presented no rudiments of the sign-making faculty
— that this faculty itself required to be originated de novo by
accidental associations of sounds with things. But, as we
now well know from all the facts previously given, even the
lower animals present the sign-making faculty in no mean
degree of development ; and, therefore, it is perfectly certain
that the " Urmenschen," at the time when they were
" sprachlosen," were not on this account zeichenlosen. The
psychological germ of communication, which probably could
not have been created by merely accidental associations
between sounds and things, must already have been given in
those psychological conditions of reccptual ideation which
arc common to all intelligent animals.

But to this all-essential germ, as thus given, I doubt not
that the soil of such associations as the interjectional thcorj-

* Stc, for example, F. Miiller, loc. tit., i. j6, 37.

364 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX.

has in view must have been of no small importance ; for this
would naturally help to nourish its scmiotic nature. And
the reason why the similar germ of sign-making which occurs
in the brute creation has not been similarly nurtured, I have
already considered in Chapter VIII. For, it is needless to
add, on every ground I disagree with the above quotations
where the)- represent articulate sounds as having been
aboriginally uttered by " Urmenschen " in the way of
instinctive cries, without any vestige of semiotic intention.*

I will now pass on to consider the two other hypotheses ;
and by way of introduction to both we must remember that
our materials of study on the side of the apes is very limited.
I do not mean only that no single representative of any of
the anthropoid apes has ever been made the object of even
so much observation with respect to its intelligence as I
bestowed upon a cebus. Yet this, no doubt, is an important
point, because we know that of all quadrumana — and, there-
fore, of all existing animals — the anthropoid apes are the
most intelligent, and, therefore, if specially trained would
probably display greater aptitude in the matter of sign-
making than is to be met with in any other kind of brute.
But I do not press this point. What I now refer to is the
fact that the existing species of anthropoid apes are very few
in number, and appear to be all on the high-road to
extinction. Moreover, it is certain that none of these
existing species can have been the progenitor of man ; and,
lastly, it is equall)- certain that the extinct species (or genus)
which did give origin to man must have differed in several

* Some of the supporters of the interjectional theory in this extreme, not to
say extravagant form, appear to go on the assumption that primitive and hitherto
speechless man already differed from the lower animals in presenting conceptual
thought. This assumption would, of course, explain why man alone began to
invest his instinctive cries, &c., with the character of names. But, from a
psychological point of view, any such assumption is obviously a putting of the
cart before the horse. I make this remark in order to add that the objection
would not apply if the ideation were supposed to be f7-e-conc€ptual — i.e. beyond
the level reached by any brute, though not yet distinctively human. Later on,
I myself espouse a theory to this effect.

THE TRANSITION IN THE RACE. 365

important respects from any of its existing allies. In the
first place, it must have been more social in habits ; and, in
the next place, it was probably more vociferous than the
orang, the gorilla, or the chimpanzee. That there is no
improbability in either of these suppositions will be at once
apparent if we remember that both are amply sustained by
analogies among existing and allied species of the monkey
tribe. Or, to state these preliminary considerations in a
converse form, when it is assumed * that because the few
existing and expiring species of anthropoid apes are unsocial
and comparatively silent, therefore the simian ancestors of
man must have been so, it is enough to point to the varia-
bility of both these habits among certain allied genera of
monkeys and baboons, in order at the same time to dispose
of the assumption, and to indicate the probable reasons why
one genus of ape gradually became evolved into Hojuo, while
all the allied genera became, or are still becoming, extinct.

Again, and still by way of preliminary consideration, we
must remember that the analogy of the growing child,
although most valuable up to a certain point, is not to be
unreservedly followed where we have to deal with the genesis
of speech. For, as previously noted, to the infancy of the
individual language is supplied from without, and has only to
be learnt ; while to the infancy of the race language was not
supplied, but had to be made. Therefore, even apart from
any question of heredity, we have here an immense difference
in the psychological conditions between the case of a growing
child and that of aboriginal man. Only in so far as the
growing child displays the tendency on which I have dwelt of
spontaneously extending the significance of denotative words,
or of spontaneously using such words in apposition for the
purpose of pre-conceptual predication — only to this extent
may we hope to find any true analogy between the individual
and the race in respect of that " transition " from reccptual
to conceptual ideation with which we are now concerned. f

* E.g. by Mr. Ward, in his Dynamical Sociohgy.

t DitVerences of opinion are entertained by philologists concerning tlic value

366 MENTAL EVOLUTION IX MAX.

There is another prch'minary consideration which I think
is well worth mentioning. The philologist Geiger is led by
his study of language to entertain, and somewhat elaborately
to sustain, the following doctrine. First he points out that
man, much more than any other animal, uses the sense of
sight for the purposes of perceptual life. By this he does not
mean that man possesses a keener vision than any other
animal, but merely that of all his special senses that of sight
is most habitually used for taking cognizance of the external
world. And this, I think, must certainly be admitted. Even
a hitherto speechless infant may be seen to observe objects at
great distances, carefully to investigate objects which it holds
in its hands, and generally to employ its eyes much more effec-
tively than any of the lower animals at a comparable stage
of development. Now, from this relative superiority cf the
sense of sight in man, Geiger argues that before the origin of
articulate speech he, more than any other animal, must have
been accustomed to communicate with his fellows by means
of signs which appealed to that sense— z>. by gesture and
grimace. But, if this be admitted, it follows that from the
time when a particular species of the order Primates began
to use its eyesight more than the allied species, a condition
was given favourable to the subsequent and gradual de-
velopment of a gesticulating form of ape-like creature. Here
grimace also would have played an important part, and where
attention was particularly directed towards movements of the
mouth for semiotic purposes, articulate sounds would begin to
acquire more or less conventional significations. In this way
Geiger supposes that the conditions required for the origin of
articulate signs were laid down ; and, in view of all that he
says, it certainly is suggestive that the animal which relies
most upon the sense of sight is also the animal which has

of "nursery-language," or "baby-talk," as a guide to the probable stages of
language-growth in primitive man. Without going into the arguments upon
this question on either side, it appears to me that the analogy as above limited
cannot be objected to even by the most extreme sceptics upon the philological
value of infantile utterance. And it is only to this extent that I anywhere use the
analogy.

/

THE TRAXSITION IiV THE RACE. ^67

made so prodigious an advance in the faculty of sign-
making. In this greater rehance on the sense of sight,
therefore, we probably have another among the many and
complex conditions which determined the difference in respect
of sign-making between the remote progenitors of man and
their nearest zoological allies — a difference which would
naturally become more and more pronounced the more
that vision and gesticulation acted and reacted on one
another.

It appears to me that this suggestion of Geiger admits of
being strikingly supported by certain facts which are known
to obtain in the case of deaf-mutes. Even when wholly
uneducated, the born mute, as we have previously seen,
habitually invents articulate sounds as his own names of
things. These sounds are, of course, unheard by the mute
himself, and their use must be ascribed — as I have already
ascribed it — to the hereditary transmission of an acquired
propensity. But the point now is that, although the majority
of these articulate sounds appear to be wholly arbitrary {e.g.
ga for " one," scJuippatter for " two," riecke for " I will not "), a
certain proportion are often clearly traceable to vocalizations
incidental to movements of the mouth in performing the
actions signified {e.g. imimni for "eating," scJiipp for "drink-
ing").* Similarly, observation of a dog's mouth, while in the
act of barking, leads to an imitative action on the part of a
mute as his sign for a dog, and this in turn may lead to the
utterance of such an articulate sound as be-yer, which the mute
afterwards uses as his name for a dog.f Now, if words may
thus be coined even by deaf-mutes as a result of observing
movements of the mouth, much more is this likely to have
been the case among the " Urmenschen," who were able not
only to sec the movements, but also to hear the sounds.

I will now adduce the two hypotheses above alluded
to as conceivable suggestions touching the mode of transi-

* For cases, see Heinieke, Beobachtungen iibcr Stummc, s. 137, &c.
t Ibid., s. 73.

368 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

tion. First, let us try to imagine an anthropoid ape,
social in habits, using its voice somewhat extensively as an
organ of sign- making after the manner of all other species
of social quadrumana, and possibly somewhat more saga-
cious than the orang-outang mentioned in my previous
work,* or the remarkable chimpanzee now in the Zoo-
logical Gardens, which, in respect of intelligence as well
as comparative hairlessness and carnivorous propensities,
appears to be the most human-like of animals hitherto
discovered in the living statc.f It does not seem to me
difficult further to imagine that such an animal should
extend the vocal signs which it habitually employs in the
expression of its emotions and the logic of its recepts, to
an association with gesture-signs, so as to constitute sen-
tence-words indicative of such simple and often -repeated
ideas as the presence of danger, discovery of food, &c.
Nay, I do not think it is too much to suppose that such
an animal may even have gone so far as to make sounds
which were denotative of a few of the most familiar objects,
such as food, child, enemy, &c., and also, possibly, of
frequently repeated forms of activity ; for this, as I have
shown at considerable length, is no more than we actually
observe to be done by animals which are lower in the scale of
intelligence ; and although it is not done by articulate signs
(except in the psychologically poor instance of talking birds),
this, as I have also shown, is a matter of no psychological

* Mental Evolution in Animals, p. 238.

t The carnivorous habits of this animal (which is named as a new species) are
most interesting. It is surmised that in its wild state it must live upon birds ; but
in the Zoological Gardens it is found to show a marked preference for cooked
meat over raw. It dines off boiled mutton-chops, the bones of which it picks with
its fingers and teeth, being afterwards careful to clean its hands. It mixes a little
straw with the mutton as vegetables, and finishes its dinner with a dessert of fruits.
But a more important point is that this animal answers its keeper in vocal tones —
or rather grunts — when he speaks to it, and these tones are understood by the
keeper as indicative of different mental states. I have spent a great deal of time
in observing this animal, but the publicity and other circumstances render it
difficult to do much in the way of experiment or tuition. With regard to
teaching her to count, see above, p. 58 ; and with regard to her understanding
of words, p. 126.

THE TRANSITION IN THE RACE. 369

import. Whether the denotative stage of language in the ape
was first reached by articulation, or (as I think is very much
more probable) by vocal sounds of other kinds assisted by
gestures and grimace, is similarly immaterial. In either case
the advance of intelligence which would thus have been
secured would in time have reacted upon the sign-making
faculty, and so have led to the extension of the vocabulary,
both as to sounds and gestures. Sooner or later the vocal
signs — assisted out by gestures and ever leading to a gradual
advance of intelligence — would have become more or less
conventional, and so, in the presence of suitable anatomical
and social conditions, articulate. Thus far I cannot see
anything to stumble over, when we remember all that has
been said upon the conventional signs which are used by the
more intelligent of our domesticated animals, and even by
talking birds.*

This is the hypothesis which is countenanced by Mr.
Darwin in his Descent of Man. He says : — " I cannot doubt
that language owes its origin to the imitation and modifica-
tion of various natural sounds, the voices of other animals,
and man's own instinctive cries, aided by signs and
gestures. . , . Since monkeys certainly understand much
that is said to them by man, and, when wild, utter signal-
cries of danger to their fellows ; and since fowls give distinct
warnings for danger on the ground, or in the sky from
hawks (both, as well as a third cry, intelligible to dogs),t
may not some unusually wise apc-likc animal have imitated
the growl of a beast of prey, and thus told his fellow-monkeys
the nature of the expected danger .'' This would have been a
first step in the formation of a language." %

* "If there once existed creatures above the apes and below man, who were
extirpated by primitive man as his especial rivals in the struggle for existence, or
became extinct in any other way, there is no difficulty in supposing them to have
possessed forms of speech, more rudimentary and imperfect than ours" (Professor
Whitney, Art. Philology, Ency. Brit., vol. xviii., p. 769).

t Houzeau gives a very curious account of his observations on this subject in
his Faciilth Menlales des Animaux, torn, ii., p. 34S.

X Descent 0/ Man, p. 87.

2 i;

j/"

MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IN MAN

But Mr. Darwin adds another feature to the hypothesis
now under consideration, as follows : —

"When we treat of sexual selection wc shall see that
primaeval man, or rather some early progenitor of man,
probably first used his voice in producing true musical
cadences, that is in singing, as do some of the gibbon-apes
at the present day ; and we may conclude, from a widely
spread analogy, that this power would have been especially
exerted during the courtship of the sexes, — would have
expressed various emotions, such as love, jealousy, triumph, —
and would have served as a challenge to rivals. It is, there-
fore, probable that the imitation of musical cries by articulate
sounds may have given rise to words expressive of various
complex emotional states." *

Such, then, is one way in which it appears to me quite
conceivable that the faculty of articulate sign-making might
have taken the first step towards the formation of speech.
But, not to go further than this first step, I can see another
possibility as to the precise method of attainment, and one
which I think is still more probable. It is the opinion of
some authorities in anthropology that speech was probably,
and comparatively speaking, late in making its appearance ;
so that our ancestors in whom it did first appear were
already more human than simian, and as such deserving of
the name Homo alalus.] Now, if this were the case, the

* Desceiit of Man, p. 87.

t This term is used by Ilaeckel as synonymous willi Pithecaiitkropoi, or the
ape-like men, who are supposed to have immediately preceded Homo sapiens
[History of Evolution, English trans., vol. ii., p. 293). In the next instalment of
work I will consider what has to be said in favour of this view from the side of my
anthropology. Meanwhile, it is sufficient to bear in mind that, as previously
stated, great as is the psychological difference introduced by the faculty of speech,
for the attainment of this faculty anatomical changes so minute as to be
imperceptible were all that seem to have been required. " Tlie argument, that
because there is an immense difference between a man's intelligence and an ape's,
therefore there must be an equally immense difference between their brains,
appears to me to be about as well based as the reasoning by which one should
endeavour to prove that, because there is a 'great gulf between a watch that
keeps accurate time and another that will not go at all, there is therefore a great

THE TRAXSlTIOy IX THE RACE. 3/1

course of our hypothetical history would be even more easy
to imagine than it was under the supposition previously
considered. For, under the present supposition, we start
with an already man-like creature, erect in attitude, much
more intelligent than any other animal, shaping flints to
serve as tools and weapons, living in tribes or societies, and
able in no small degree to communicate the logic of his
recepts by means of gesture-signs, facial expressions, and
vocal tones. Clearly, from such an origin, the subsequent
evolution of sign-making in the direction of articulate sounds
would be an even more easy matter to imagine than under
the previous hypothesis. For, let us try to imagine a com-
munity of Homo alaltis, considerably more intelligent than
the existing anthropoid apes, although still considerably below
the intellectual level of existing savages. It is certain that
in such a community natural signs of voice, gesture, and
grimace would be in vogue to a greater or less extent.* As
their numbers increased (and, consequently, as natural selec-
tion laid a greater and greater premium on intelligent co-ope-
ration, as in the case of social insects), f such signs would
require to become more and more conventional, or acquire
more and more the character of sentence-words and deno-
tative signs.l Now, where the signs were vocal, the only

structural liiatus between the two watches. A hair in the balance-wheel, a little
rust on a pinion, a bend in a tooth of the escapement, a something so slight that
only the practised eye of the watchmaker can discover it, may be the source of all
the difference. And believing, as I do, with Cuvier, that the possession of
articulate speech is the grand distinctive character of man (whether it be absolutely
peculiar to him or not), I find it very easy to comprehend, that some equally
inconspicuous structural difference may have been the primary cause of the
immeasurable and practically infinite divergence of the human from the simian
stirps " (Huxley, Matt's Place in Nature, p. 103).

* Here I will ask the reader to bear in mind the considerations above adducetl
from Geiger, as to the encouragement which must have been given to a semiotic
use of vocal sounds by habitual attention being given to the movements of the
mouth in significant grimace — such attention being naturally bestowed in larger
measure Ijy an intelligent ape-like creature which was accustomed to depen<l
chiefly on its sense of sight, than it would be by any of the existing quadrumana.

t For sign-making among the social insects, see above, pp. 88-95.

X Here, be it observed, the element of truth which belongs to the first of the
three hypotheses that we are c()iisi<Uring comes in. Compare foot-note on page

i>/^

MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN

ways in which they could be developed so as to meet this
need would be, (i) conventional modulations of intensity,
(2) of pitch, and (3) of time-intervals. But clearly, neither
modulations of intensity nor of pitch could carry improve-
ment very far, seeing that the human voice does not admit of
any great range of either. Consequently, if any improve-
ment at all were to be effected — and it was bound to be
effected, if possible, by natural selection, — it could only be so
in the direction of modulating time-intervals between vocal
sounds. Now, such a modulation of time-intervals is the
beginning of articulation.

That is to say, the first articulation probably consisted in
nothing further than a semiotic breaking of vocal tones, in a
manner resembling that which still occurs in the so-called
" chattering " of monkeys — the natural language for the
expression of their mental states. The great difference
would be that the semiotic value of such incipient articula-
tion must have been more largely intellectual, or less purely
emotional : it must have partaken less of the nature of cries,
and more of the nature of names. It seems probable that,
as all natural cries are given forth by the throat and larynx,
with little or no assistance from the tongue and lips, these
first efforts at articulation would have been mainly restricted
to vowel sounds, sparsely supplemented by guttural and
labial consonants. This state of matters might have lasted
for an enormous length of time, during which the liquid, and
lastly the lingual consonants would perhaps have begun to be
used. This is the order in which we might expect the
consonants to arise, in view of the consideration that the
gutturals and labials would probably have admitted of more
easy pronunciation than the liquids and linguals by an almost
speechless Homo* From this point onwards, the further

364 : Homo alalns, though not yet a conceptual thinker, is nevertheless in
possession of a higher receptual life than has ever been attained by a brute, and
is correspondingly more capable of utilizing as signs interjectional or other sounds
which emanate from the " purely physiological grounds" of his own organization.
* See Preyer, loc. cit., for a detailed account of the order in which the con-
sonants are developed in the growing child. Also Professor Holden, on the

THE TRANSITION IN THE RACE. 373

development of articulation would only be a matter of time
and mental growth ; but I think it is highly probable that
the initial stages thus sketched probably occupied a lapse
of time out of all proportion to that which was afterwards
required for the higher developments.

Moreover, in this connection we must not neglect to notice
the " clicks " of the African Bushmen and Hottentots, which
appear to furnish us with direct evidence of the survival
among these low races of a primordially inarticulate system
of sign-making.* No one has studied the languages of these
peoples with so much labour or so much result as the philo-
sophically minded Dr. Bleek, and he says that the clicks
which occur in the great majority of their words, " must be
made an object of special attention if we would arrive at even
an approximate idea of the original vocal elements from
which human language sprang." f

The clicks in question are four in number, or, according
to Bleek, "at least six." They are called the dental, palatal,
cerebral, and lateral. The lateral click is the same as that
which is employed by our own grooms when urging a
horse. The dental is also used by European races as a sound
expressive of disappointment, unspeakable contempt, &c. In

Vocabularies of Childreit, in Proc. Amer. Philolo. Ass., 1877. There can be no
doubt that vowel sounds must have been of early origin in the race ; but in what
order the consonants may have followed is much more doubtful. For different
races now exhibit great differences with regard to the use^and even to the
capability of using — consonantal sounds; the Chinese, for instance, changing r into
/, while the Japanese change /into r. And, of course, the whole science of com-
parative philology may be said to be based upon a study of the laws of " phonetic
change." But it is obviously a matter of no importance in what particular order
the different articulate sounds were first evolved. According to Prince Lucien
Bonaparte, who has investigated the matter with much care, the total number of
these sounds that can be possibly made by the human organs of vocalization is 385.
See, also, Ellis, on Earfy English Pronunciation ; and, for the limitation of con-
sonants in various languages of existing races, Hovelaque, Science of Language,
English trans., pp. 49, 61, 81.

* "WTien we remember the inarticulate clicks which still form part of the
Bushman's language, it would seem as if no line of division could be drawn
between man and beast, even when language is made the test " (Sayce,
Introduction, *S^r., ii., p. 302),

t Ursprung der .Sprache, s. 52.

374 ME XT A L EVOLUTION IN MAN.

books it is usually written " tut, tut," which serves to show
how hopeless is an)-- attempt at translating a click into any-
articulate equivalent. The other two clicks are formed by
the tongue operating upon the roof of the mouth. Some
remote idea of the difficulty of rendering a language of this
kind into any alphabetical form, may be gained by trying to
pronounce one of the words which are printed in our European
treatises upon them. For example, the Hottentot word for
" moon " is printed || klidp, where || stands for the lateral click,
kka for a guttural consonant, and ~ for a nasal twang.

With reference to this inarticulate kind of sign-making,
which thus so largely prevails among the languages of low
races in close organic connection with articulate, it seems
worth while to record the following observation which was
communicated by Professor Haeckel to Dr. Bleek, and
published by the latter in his work already quoted : —

" The language of apes has not hitherto received from
zoologists the attention which it deserves, and there are no
accurate descriptions of the sounds uttered by them. They
are sometimes called 'howls,' sometimes 'cries,' 'clicks,'
' roars,' &c. Now, I have myself frequently heard in
zoological gardens, from apes of very different species,
remarkable clicking sounds, which arc produced with the lips,
and also, though not so often, with the tongue ; but I have
nowhere been able to find any account of them."

Upon the whole, then, it appears to me extremely probable
that in these clicks we have survivals, in lowly developed
languages, of a formerly inarticulate condition of mankind ;
or, as Professor Sayce remarks from a philological point of
view, "the clicks of the Bushmen still survive to show us how
the utterances of speechless man could be made to embody
and convey thought." *

In its main outlines the hypothetical sketch which I have
given follows that which Mr. Darwin has drawn in his Descent

* Introduction, &=€., ii., 302 : by " thought " of course he means what I mean
by recepts.

THE TRANSITION IN THE RACE. 375

of Maji. As we have already seen, however, there is this
important difiference. Mr. Darwin entertains only the second
of the three alternative hypotheses here presented, or the
hypothesis which assumes that the rudiments of articulate
speech began in the " ape-like," or " early progenitors " of
man. He does not seem to have entertained the idea of
Homo alaliis as a connecting link between these early pro-
genitors and Homo sapiens. I may, therefore, here briefly
give my reasons for thinking it probable that this connecting
link had an actual existence.

Let it be observed, in the first place, that there is no
antagonism between the two hypotheses in question — the
latter, indeed, being merely an extension of the former. For
the latter adopts all Mr. Darwin's views as to the importance
of instinctive cries, danger-signals, &c., for the higher develop-
ment of sign-making in that " ape-like animal " which was
the brutal progenitor of Homo alahis* Moreover, our
hypothesis is entitled to assume, with Mr. Darwin's, that this
anthropoid ape was presumably not only more intelligent
than any of the few surviving species, but also much more
social. And this is an important point to insist upon,
because it is obvious that the conditions of social life are
also the prime conditions to any considerable advance upon
the sign-making faculty as this occurs in existing apes. The
only respect, therefore, in which the two hypotheses differ is
in the one supposing that the faculty of articulate sign-
making was a much later product of evolution than it is
taken to have been by the other. That is to say, while
Mr. Darwin's hypothesis regards the commencement of articu-
lation as a necessary condition to any considerable advance
upon the rcceptual intelligence of our brutal ancestry, the
present hypothesis regards it as more probable that this
reccptual intelligence was largely developed by gesture and
vocal signs, before the latter can be said to have become

* Here also compare the first of the three hypotheses, the important elements
of truth in which are, as I have already more than once observed, to be considered
as adopted l>y Mr. Darwin's hypothesis, and therefore also l>y the present one.

T^-J^ ME XT A L EVOLUTION IX MAX.

properly articulate — the result being that a creature rather
more human than " ape-like " was evolved, who, nevertheless,
was still able to communicate with his fellows only by means
of gesture-signs and vocal tones.

Aly reasons for regarding this hypothesis as more probable
than the other are these.

First of all, on grounds of psychology, I .see no reason to
doubt that the reccptual intelligence of an already intelligent
and highly social species of anthropoid ape would admit
of considerable advance upon that of any existing species
without the aid of articulation — social habits making all the
difference as to the development of sign-making with its
consequent reaction upon mental development. Next, for
these early stages of advance, I do not see that articulate
sign-making would have conferred any considerable advantage
over a further development of the more natural systems.
For, so long as the only co-operation required had reference
to comparatively simple actions, the language of tone and
gesture would have admitted of sufficient development to
have met all requirements. Lastly, if we take the growing
child as an index of psychogenesis in the race, there can
be no doubt that it points to a comparatively late origin
of the faculty of articulation. Remembering the general
tendency of ontogenesis to foreshorten the history of phylo-
genesis, it is, I think, most suggestive that — notwithstanding
its readiness to imitate, and notwithstanding its being
surrounded by spoken language — the infant does not begin
to use articulate signs until long after it has been able to
express many of its receptual ideas in the language of tone
and gesture. It will be remembered that I have already laid
stress upon the astonishing degree of elaboration which this
form of language undergoes in the case of children who are
late in beginning to speak (see pp. 220). And although it
might be scarcely justifiable to take these cases as possibly
representative of the semiotic language of Homo alalus
(seeing that the child of to-day inherits the cerebrum of
Homo sapiens) ; still I think it is no less certain that we

THE TRAXSITIOX IN THE RACE. Z77

should err on the opposite side, if we were to take the case
of a child who is precocious in the matter of speech as a fair
index of the grade of mental evolution at the time when
articulation first began in the race (seeing that the history of
the latter is probably foreshortened in that of the former).
Yet, even if we were to do this, for the sake of argument, the
result would still be most strongly to indicate that long
before our remote ancestors were able to use articulate
speech, they were immeasurably in advance of all existing
brutes in their semiotic use of tone and gesture. For even
a precocious child does not begin to make any considerable
use of words as signs until it is well on into its second year,
while usually this stage is not reached until the third. And,
at whatever age it is reached, the general intelligence of
the child is not only much in advance of that of any existing
brute, but the direction in which this advance is most con-
spicuous is just the direction where, in the present connection,
it is most suggestive — namely, in that of natural sign-making
by tone and gesture.

In view, then, of these several considerations, I am dis-
posed to think that the progress of mental evolution from
the brute to the man most probably took place by some such
stages as the following.

Starting from the highly intelligent and social species of
anthropoid ape as pictured by Darwin, we can imagine that
this animal was accustomed to use its voice freely for the
expression of its emotions, uttering of danger-signals, and
singing.* Possibly enough, also, it may have been sufficiently
intelligent to use a few imitative sounds in the arbitrary way

* The song of the gibbon has already been alluded to in a quotation from
Darwin. I may here add that the chimpanzee " -Sally" not unfrcquently executes
an extraordinary performance of an analogous kind. The song, however, is by
no means so "musical." It is sung without any regard to notation, in a series of
rapidly succeeding howls and screams — very loud, and accompanied by a drumming
of the legs upon the ground. She will only thus "break forth into singing" after
more or less sustained excitement by her keeper ; but more often than not she
refuses to be provoked by any amount of endeavour on his part.

378 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX.

that Mr. Darwin suggests ; and certainly sooner or later the
receptual life of this social animal must have advanced far
enough to have become comparable with that of an infant
at about two years of age. That is to say, this animal,
although not yet having begun to use articulate signs, must
have advanced far enough in the conventional use of natural
signs (or signs with a natural origin in tone and gesture,
whether spontaneous only or intentionally imitative), to have
admitted of a tolerably free exchange of receptual ideas, such
as would be concerned in animal wants, and even, perhaps, in
the simplest forms of co-operative action.* Next, I think it
probable that the advance of receptual intelligence which
would have been occasioned by this advance in sign-making,
would in turn have led to a further development of the
latter — the two thus acting and re-acting on one another,
until the language of tone and 'gesture became gradually
raised to the level of imperfect pantomime, as in children
before they begin to use words. At this stage, liowever, or
even before it, I think very probably vowel-sounds must have
been employed in tone-language, if not also a few of the
consonants. And I think this not only on account of the
analogy furnished by an infant already alluded to, but also
because in the case of a "singing" animal, intelligent enough
to be constantly using its voice for semiotic purposes, and
therefore employing a variety of more or less conventional
tones, including clicks, it seems almost necessary that some
of the vowel sounds — and possibly also some of the con-
sonants— should have been brought into use. But, be this as
it may, eventually the action and re-action of receptual intelli-
gence and conventional sign-making must have ended in so
far developing the former as to have admitted of the breaking
up (or articulation) of vocal sounds, as the only direction in
which any further improvement of vocal sign-making was
possible. I think it not improbable that this important stage
in the development of speech was greatly assisted by the

* Compare quotations from the German philologists in support of the first
hypothesis, pp. 361, 362.

THE TRAXSniON IX THE RACE. 379

already-existing habit of articulating musical notes, sup-
posing our progenitors to have resen:ibled the gibbons or the
chimpanzees in this respect. But long after this first rude
beginning of articulate speech, the language of tone and
gesture would have continued as much the most important
machinery of communication : the half-human creature now
before our imagination would probably have struck us as a
wonderful adept at making significant sounds and move-
ments both as to number and variety; but in all probability
we should scarcely have been able to notice the already-
developing germ of articulation. Nor do I believe that, if
we were able to strike in again upon the history thousands
of years later, we should find that pantomime had been super-
seded by speech. On the contrary, I believe we should
find that although considerable progress had been made in
the former, so that the object then before us might appear
deserving of being classed as Homo, we should also feel that
he must needs still be distinguished by the addition alaliis.
Lastly, I believe that this most interesting creature probably
lived for an inconceivably long time before his faculty of
articulate sign-making had developed sufficiently far to begin
to starve out the more primitive and more natural systems ;
and I believe that, even after this starving-out process did
begin, another inconceivable lapse of time must have been
required for such progress to have eventually transformed
Homo alalus into Homo sapiens.

It is now time to consider a branch of this hypothesis
which has been suggested by the philologist Professor Noire,
to which allusion has already been made in an earlier chapter.*

Before Mr. Darwin had published his views. Professor
Noire had elaborated a theory of the origin of speech which
was substantially the same as that which I have already quoted
from the Descent of AIa?i.\ The only difference between

* See pp. 288-290.

j- Well ah Enlwickelung tier Ceisls, s. 255. This Ijook, however, was not
published until 1874 — i.e. some years after the Descent of Man.

38o MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

the two was that, while Darwin referred the origin of articu-
late speech from instinctive cries, &c., to the anthropoid
apes. Noire referred it to a being already human. In other
words, Noire adopted what I have here called the third hypo-
thesis, which assumes a speechless form of man as anterior to
the existing form.* But, as a result of further deliberation.
Noire came to the conclusion that " the objects of fear and
trembling and dismay are even now the least appropriate to
enter into the pure, clear, and tranquil sphere of speech-
thought, or to supply the first germs of it." Accordingly, he
discarded the view that these germs were to be sought in
instinctive cries and danger calls, in favour of the hypothesis
that articulation had its origin in sounds which are made
by bodies of men when engaged in common occupations.
Having already explained the elements of this Yo-he-ho
theory, it will here be enough to repeat that I think there is
probably some measure of truth in it ; although I likewise
think it self-evident that this cannot have been the only source
of aboriginal speech. In what proportion this branch of ono-
matopoeia was concerned in the genesis of aboriginal words —
supposing it to have been concerned at all — we have now no
means of even conjecturing. But seeing that there are so many
other sources of onomatopoeia supplied by Nature, and that
these other sources are so apparent in all existing languages,
while the one suggested by Noire has not left a record of its
occurrence in any language, — seeing these things, I conclude,
as before stated, that at best the Yo-he-ho principle can be
accredited with but a small proportional part in the aboriginal
genesis of language.f Therefore, with respect to this hypo-
thesis I have only three remarks to make: (i) that it is

* This is likewise the view that was ably supported by Geiger on philological
grounds, Ursprimg der Sprache, 1869 ; and by Haeckel on grounds of general
reasoning. His toy of Creation, English trans., 1S76.

t " How many of the roots of language were formed in this way it is impossible
to say ; but when we consider that there is no modern word which we can derive
from such cries as the sailor makes when he hauls a rope, or the groom when he
cleans a horse, it does not seem likely that they can have been very numerous "
(Sayce, Introduction, ^c, i., p. no).

THE TRAXSITION IN THE RACE. 38 1

plainly but a special branch of the general onomatopoetic
theory ; (2) that, as such, it not improbably presents some
measure of truth ; and (3) that, consequently, it ought to be
regarded — not as it is regarded by its author Noire and its
advocate Max Miiller, namely, as the sole explanation of the
origin of speech, but — as representing only one among many
other ways in which, during many ages, many communities
of vociferous though hitherto speechless men may have slowly
evolved the art of making articulate signs.

Probably it will be objected to this third hypothesis, in all
its branches, that it amounts to a petetio principii: Homo
alahis, it may be said, is Homo postulatus. To this I answer.
Not so. The question raised has been raised expressly and
exclusively on the faculty of conceptual speech, and it is con-
ceded that of this faculty there can hav^e been no earlier phase
than that of articulation. Consequently, if my opponents
assume that prior to the appearance of this earliest phase it
is impossible that any hitherto speechless animal should have
been erect in attitude, intelligent enough to chip flints, or
greatly in advance of other animals in the matter of making
indicative gesture-signs, assisted by vocal tones, — if my
opponents assume all this, it is they who are endeavouring to
beg the question. For they are merely assuming, in the most
arbitrary way, that the faculty of conceptual thought is
necessary in order that an animal already semi-erect, should
become more erect ; in order that an animal already intelligent
enough to use stones for cracking nuts and opening oysters,
should not only (as at present) choose the most appropriate
stones for the purpose, but begin to fashion them for these or
other purposes; in order that an animal already more apt than
any other in the use of gesture and vocal signs, should ad\ance
considerably along the same line of psychical improve-
ment.* The hypothesis that such a considerable advance

* With regard to the erect attitude, we must rcmcnd)cr lliat, although the
chimpanzee and orang never adopt it, the only other kinds of anthropoid apes —
namely, gorilla and gibbon — frequently do so when progressing on level surfaces.

382 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

might have gradually taken place, up to the psychological
level supposed, may or may not be true ; but, at least, it docs
not beg the question. The question is whether the distinc-
tivelv human faculty of conceptual ideation differs in kind
or in degree from the lower faculty of receptual ideation ;
and my present suggestion amounts to nothing more than a
supposition that receptual ideation may have been developed
in the animal kingdom to some such level as it reaches in a
child who is late in beginning to speak.* If any opponent
should object to this suggestion on the score of its appearing
to beg the question, he must remember that this question
only arises — in accordance with his own argument — at the
place where the faculty of sign-making ministers to that of
introspective thought. The question as to how far the lower
faculties of mind admit of being developed apart from (or, as
I believe, antecedent to) the occurrence of introspective
thought, is obviously quite a distinct question. And it is a
question that can only be answered by observation. Now, I
have already shown that in the case of intelligent animals

and still more in that of a growing child — the faculties of

receptual ideation do admit of being wrought up to an as-
tonishing degree of adaptive efficiency, without the possibility
of their having been in any way indebted to the distinctively
human faculty of conceptual thought.

On the whole, then, it seems to me probable, on grounds

In the case of the gorilla, indeed, although the fore-limbs quit the ground and the
locomotion thus becomes bipedal, the body is never fully straightened up ; but in
the case of the giVjbon the erect attitude may be said to be complete when the
animal is walking. (Huxley, Ma7i's Place in Nature, pp. 36-49). With regard
to the selection and use of stones as tools. Commander Alfred Carpenter, R.N.,
thus describes the modus operandi of monkeys inhabiting islands off S. Burmah : —
"The rocks at low-water are covered with oysters. The monkeys select stones
of the best shape for their purpose from shingle of the beach, and carry them to
the low-water mark, where the oysters live, which may be as far as eighty yards
from the beach. This monkey has chosen the easiest way to open the rock-oyster,
namely, to dislocate the valves by a blow on the base of the upper one, and to
break the shell over the attaching muscle" {Nature, vol. xxxvi., p. 53. In
connection with this subject see also Auinial Intelii^ctice, p. 481).
* See above, p. 220.

THE TRANSITION IN THE RACE. 383

of psychology alone, that the developmental history of intel-
ligence in our race so far resembled this history in the growing
child that, prior to the advent of speech, receptual ideation
had attained a much higher level of perfection than it now
presents in any animal^so much so, indeed, that the adult
creature presenting it might \vell have merited the name of
Homo alaliis. And, as we shall see in my next volume, this
inference on psychological grounds is corroborated by certain
inferences which may reasonably be drawn from some other
classes of facts. But in now for the present taking leave of
this question, I desire again to repeat, that it has nothing
to do with my main argument. For it makes no essential
difference to my case whether the faculty of speech was early
or late in making its first appearance. Under either alterna-
tive, so soon as the denotative stage of articulation had been
reached by our progenitors in the way already sketched on its
psychological side, the next stage would have consisted in an
extension of denotative signs into connotative signs. As we
have now seen, by a large accumulation of evidence, this
extension of denotative into connotative signs is rendered
inevitable through the principle of sensuous association. In
other words, I have adduced what can only be deemed a
superabundance of facts to prove that, in the first-talking
child and even in the parrot, originally denotative names of
particular objects are spontaneously extended to other objects
sensuously perceived to be like in kind. And no less super-
abundantly have I proved that this process of connotative
extension is antecedent to the rise of conceptual thought,
and, therefore, to that of true denomination. The limits to
which such purely receptual connotation may extend, I have
shown to be determined by the degree of development which
has been reached by the faculties of purely receptual appre-
hension. In the parrot this degree of development is but
low ; in the dog and monkey considerably higher (though,
unfortunately, these animals are not able to give any articu-
late expression to their receptual apprehensions); in the child
of two years it is higher still. But, as before shown, no anta-

384 MEATAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX.

gonist can afford to allege that in any of these cases there is
a difference of kind between the mental faculties that are
respectively involved ; because his argument on psychological
grounds can only stand upon the basis of conceptual cognition,
which, in turn, can only stand upon the basis of self-conscious-
ness ; and this is demonstrably absent in the child until long
after the time when denotative names are connotatively
extended by the receptual intelligence of the child itself.

Thus, there can be no reasonable question that it is
psychologically possible for Homo sapiens to have had an
ancestry, which — whether already partly human or still simian
— was able to carry denotation to a high level of connotation,
without the need of cognition belonging to the order concep-
tual. Whether the signs were then made by tone and gesture
alone, or likewise by articulate sounds, is also, psychologically
considered, immaterial. In either case connotation would have
followed denotation up to whatever point the higher receptual
(" pre-conceptual ") intelligence of such an ancestry was able
to take cognizance of simple analogies. And this psycholo-
gical possibility becomes on other grounds a probability of the
highest order, so soon as we know of any independent evidence
touching the corporeal evolution of man from a simian ancestry.

Now, we have already seen that pre-conceptual connota-
tion amounts to what I have termed pre-conceptual judgment.
The qualities or relations thus connotated are not indeed
contemplated as qualities or as relations ; but in the mere act
of such a connotative classification the higher receptual
intelligence is virtually judging a resemblance, and virtually
predicating its judgment. Therefore I think it probable that
the earliest forms of such virtual predication were those
which would have been conveyed in single words. And, as
we have seen in the foregoing chapters, there is abundant and
wholly independent evidence to show, that this form of
nascent predication continued to hold an important place
until so late in the intellectual history of our race as to leave
a permanent record of its occurrence in the structure of all
laneuaees now e.xtant.

THE TRANSITION IN THE RACE. 385

The epoch during which these sentence-words prevailed
was probably immense ; and, as we have before seen, far
from having been inimical to gesticulation, must have greatly
encouraged it — raising, in fact, the indicative phase of
language to the level of elaborate pantomime. Out of the
complex of sentence-words and gesture-signs thus inaugurated,
grammatical forms became slowly evolved, as we know from
the independent witness of philology. But long before
grammatical forms of any sort began to be evolved, a kind
of uncertain differentiation must have taken place in this pro-
toplasmic material of speech, in such wise that some sentence-
words would have tended to become specially denotative of
particular objects, others of particular actions, states, qualities,
and relations. This " primitive streak," as it were, of what
was afterwards to constitute the vertebral column of articulated
language in the independent yet mutually related " parts of
speech," must in large measure have owed its development to
gesture. Now, by this time, gesture itself must already have
acquired an elementary kind of syntax, such as belongs even
to semiotic movements of an infant who happens to be late in
beginning to speak.* This elementary kind of syntax would
necessarily be taken over by, or impressed upon, the growing
structure of speech, at all events so far as the principles and
the order of apposition were concerned. Moreover, this sign-
making value of apposition would at the same time have been
promoted within the sphere of articulate signs themselves.
For, as we have previously seen, as soon as words become in
any measure denotative, they immediately begin to undergo
a connotative extension ; f and with this progressive widening
of signification, words require to be more and more frequently
used in apposition. Quite independently of any as yet non-
existing powers of introspective thought, the external "logic
of events " must have constantly determined such apposition
of rcceptually connotative terms, as we have already so fully
seen in the case of the growing child. Thus the conditions
were laid for the tripartite division — the genitive case, the

* .See ])p. 220-222. t Sec |ip. 179-181.

2 C

386 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

adjective, and the verb. Not till long subsequent ages, however,
would this division have taken place in its fulness. During
the time which we are now contemplating, there could have
been no distinction at all between the genitive case and
the adjective ; neither could there have been any verbs as
independent parts of speech. Nevertheless, already some
of the denotative signs would have been used as names
of particular objects, others of particular qualities, and yet
others of particular actions, states, and relations. Not )'et
deserving to be regarded as fully dilTerentiated parts of
speech, these object-words, quality-words, &c., would have
resembled those with which we are all well acquainted in
nursery language, and which still survive, in a remarkably
large measure, among many dialects of a low order of develop-
ment. Now, as soon as these denotative names became at
all fixed in meaning within the limits of the same community,
those which respectively signified objects, qualities, actions,
states, and relations, must necessarily have been often used in
apposition ; and, as often as they were thus used, would have
constituted nascent or prc-conccptual propositions.

The probability certainly is that immense intervals of
time would have been consumed in the passage through
these various grades of mental evolution ; but when we
remember the great importance of this kind of evolution to
the species which had once begun to travel in that direction,
we cannot wonder that survival of the fittest should have
placed a high premium upon the instrument of its attain-
ment— or, in other words, that the faculty of sign-making,
when once happily started, should have been successively
pushed onwards through ascending grades of efficiency, so
that it should soon become as unique in the mammalian
series as, for analogous reasons, are the flying powers of the
Chiroptcra. But however long or however short the time ma\-
have been that was required for our early progenitors to pass
from one of these stages of sign-making to another, so soon
as the denotative name of an object was brought into
apposition with the denotative name of a quality or an action.

THE TRANSITIOX IN THE RACE. Z^J

so soon was there uttered the virtual statement of a virtual
judgment, even though the mind which formed it was very
far indeed from being able either to think about its judgment
as a judgment, or to state a truth as true.

Thus we perceive that two different principles were
presumably concerned in the genesis of what I have called
pre-conceptual predication. The first consists in the natural
and inevitable extension of denotative into connotative terms,
through the force of merely receptual association. The
second consists in the no less natural and inevitable apposi-
tion of denotative terms themselves, whereby a receptuall)-
perceived relation is virtually — though not conceptually —
predicated as subsisting between the objects, qualities, states,
actions, or relations which are denoted. Of course it is
evident that these two modes of development must have
mutually assisted one another: the more that denotative signs
underwent connotative extension, the greater must have been
their predicative value when used in apposition ; and the more
frequently denotative signs were used in apposition, the greater
must have become the extension of their connotative value.

Lastly, it is desirable throughout all this hypothetical
discussion to remember that we have the positive evidence of
philology touching two points of considerable importance.
The first point is that, as in the aboriginal sentence-words
there was no differentiation of, or distinction between, subject
and predicate ; so, until very late in the evolution of predica-
tive utterance, there was— and in very many languages still
continues to be— an absence of the copula. Nay, even the
substantive verb, which has been unwittingly conlounded with
the copula by some of my opponents, was also very late in
making its appearance.

The second point is that, although " pronominal elements "
— or verbal equivalents of gesture-signs indicative of space-
relations — were among the earliest of verbal differentiations,
it was not until after a^ons of ages had ela[)sed that any
pronouns arose as specially indicative of the first person.*

* Sec abovf, i)[). 30U, 301.

388 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

Now, this point I consider one of prime importance. For it
furnishes us with direct evidence of the fact that, long after
mankind had begun to speak, and even long after they had
gained considerable proficiency in the art of articulate
language, the speakers still continued to refer to themselves
in that same kind of objective phraseology as is employed
by a child before the dawn of self-consciousness. This, of
course, is what on antecedent or theoretical grounds we should
infer nuist have been the case ; but it is surely a matter of
great moment that our inference on this point should admit
of such full and independent verification at the hands of
philological research. As we have now so repeatedly seen,
the distinction between ideas as receptual and conceptual
turns upon the presence or absence of self-consciousness, in
the full or introspective signification of that term. And, as
we have likewise seen, the outward and visible sign of this
inward and spiritual grace is given in the subjective use of
pronominal words. But if these things admit of no question
in the case of an individual human mind — if in the case
of the growing child the rise of self-consciousness is demon-
strably the condition to that of conceptual thought, — by
what feat of logic can it be possible to insinuate that in
the growing psychology of the race there may have been
conceptual thought before there was any true self-conscious-
ness ? Obviously this cannot be insinuated without deny-
ing those identical principles of psychology on which my
opponents themselves rely. Will it, then, be said that the
criterion of self-consciousness which is valid for a child is not
valid for the race — that although in the former the rise of
self-consciousness is marked by the change from objective
to subjective phraseology, in the latter a precisely similar
change is not to be accredited with a similar meaning? If
this were to be suggested, it would not merely be quite
gratuitous as a suggestion, but directly opposed to the whole
of an otherwise perfectly parallel analogy. In point of fact,
then, there is obviously no escape from the conclusion that in
the race, as in the individual, the development of true, or

THE TRAXSITIOiV IX THE RACE. 389

"inward," from receptual, or "outward," self-consciousness
was a gradual process ; that its birth in the former is not
merely a matter of inference — overpowering though this
inference be, — but a matter of actual fact which is recorded
in the archives of Language itself; and, therefore, that the
central question upon which the whole of the present treatise
has been engaged cannot an\- longer be regarded as an open
question. It has been closed, part by part, as the witness
of philolog}- has verified, stage by stage, the results of our
psychological analysis ; and now, eventually, the verification
has extended to the central core of the matter, revealing in
all its naked simplicit)- the one decisive fact, that in the
childhood of the world, no less than in that of the man, we
may see the fundamental change from sense to thought : in
the one as in the other do we behold that —

"As he grows he gathers much,
And learns the use of ' I,' and ' me,"
And finds ' I am not what I see,
And other than the things I touch.'

" So rounds he to a separate mind

From W'hence clear memory may begin,
As thro' the frame that binds him in
His isolation grows defined. "

390 MENTAL EVOI.UTIOX IN MAN.

CHAPTER XVII.

GENERAL SUMMARY AND CONCLUDING REMARKS.

In the present treatise I take as granted the general theory
of evolution, so far as it is now accepted by the vast majority
of naturalists. That is to say, I assume the doctrine of
descent as regards the whole of organic nature, morphological
and psychological, with the one exception of man. More-
over, I assume this doctrine even in the case of man, so far
as his bodily organization is concerned ; it being thus only
with reference to the human mind that the exception to
which I have alluded is made. And I make this exception
in deference to the opinion of that small minority of
evolutionists who still maintain that, notwithstanding their
acceptance of the theory of descent as regards the corporeal
constitution of man, they are able to adduce cogent evidence
to prove that the theory fails to account for his mental
constitution.

Such being my basis of assumption, we began by con-
sidering the state of the question a priori. If, in accordance
with our assumption, the process of organic and of mental
evolution has been continuous throughout the whole region
of life and of mind, with the one exception of the mind of
man, on grounds of an immensely large analogy we must
deem it antecedently improbable that the process of evolu-
tion, elsewhere so uniform and ubiquitous, should have been
interrupted at its terminal phase. And this antecedent pre-
sumption is still further strengthened by the undeniable
fact that, in the case of every individual human being.

GEXERAL SUMMARY AXD CONCLUDIXG REMARKS. 39 1

the human mind presents to actual observation a process of
gradual development, extending from infancy to manhood.
For it is thus shown to be a matter of observable fact that,
whatever may have been the origin or the history of human
intelligence in the past, as it now exists — or, rather, as in
every individual case it now comes into existence — it proves
itself to be no exception to the general law of evolution : it
unquestionably does admit of gradual growth from a zero
level, and without such a gradual growth we have no
evidence of its becoming. Furthermore, so long as it is
passing through the lower stages of this growth, the human
mind ascends through a scale of faculties which are parallel
with those that are permanently presented by what I have
termed the ps}xho]ogical species of the animal kingdom — a
general fact which tends most strongly to prove that, at all
events up to the time when the distinctively human qualities
of ideation are attained, no difference of kind is apparent
between human and brute psychology. Lastly, not only
in the individual, but also in the race, the phenomena of
mental evolution are conspicuous — so far, at least, as the
records of the human race extend. Whether we have regard
to actual history, to tradition, to antiquarian remains, or
flint implements, we obtain uniform evidence of a continuous
process of upward development, which is thus seen to be
as characteristic of those additional attributes wherein the
human mind now surpasses that of any other species as it
is of those attributes which it shares with other species.
Therefore, if the process of mental evolution was interrupted
between the anthropoid apes and primitive man during
the prc-historic period of which we have no record, it must
again have been resumed with primitive man, after which
it must have continued as uninterruptedly in the human
species as it previously did in the animal species. This, to
say the least, is a most improbable supposition. The law of
continuity is proved to apply on both sides of a psychological
interval, where there happens to be a necessary absence of
hi.storical information. Yet we are asked to believe that, in

392 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX.

curious coincidence with this interval, the law of continuity
was violated — notwithstanding that in the case of every
individual human mind such is known never to be the case.

In order to overturn so immense a presumption as is thus
raised against the contention of my opponents on merely
a priori grounds, it appears to me that they must be fairly
called upon to supply some very powerful considerations of
an a posteriori kind, tending to show that there is something
in the constitution of the human mind which renders it
virtually impossible to suppose that such an order of mental
existence can have proceeded by way of genetic descent
from mind of lower orders. I therefore next proceeded to
consider the arguments which have been adduced in support
of this thesis.

In order that the points of difference on which these
arguments arc founded might be brought out into clear relief,
I began by briefly considering the points of resemblance
between the human mind and mind of lower orders. Here
we saw that so far as the Emotions arc concerned no difference
of kind has been, or can be, alleged. The whole series of
human emotions have been proved to obtain among the
lower animals, except those which depend on the higher
intellectual powers of man — i.e. those appertaining to religion
and perception of the sublime. But all the others — which in
my list amount to over twenty — occur in the brute creation ;
and although man}- of them do not occur in so highly
developed a degree, this is immaterial where the question is
one of kind. Indeed, so remarkable is the general similarity
of emotional life in both cases — especially when we have
regard to the young child and savage man — that it ought
fairly to be taken as direct evidence of a genetic continuity
between them.

And so, likewise, it is with Instinct. For although this
occurs in a greater proportion among the lower animals
than it does in ourselves, no one can venture to question the
identity of all the instincts which are common to both. And
this is the only point that here requires to be established.

GEXERAL SUMMARY AND CONCLUDIXG REMARK'S. 393

Again, with respect to the Will, no argument can arise
touching the identity of animal and human volition up to the
point where the latter is alleged to take on the attribute of
freedom — which, as we saw, under any view depends on the
intellectual powers of introspective thought.

There remain, then, only these intellectual powers of
introspective Thought, plus the faculties of Morality and
Religion. Now, it is evident that, whatever we may severally
conclude as touching the distinctive value of the two latter,
we must all agree that a prime condition to the possibility of
either resides in the former : without the powers of intellect
which are competent to frame the abstract ideation that is
concerned both in morals and religion, it is manifest that
neither could exist. Therefore, in logical order, it is these
powers of intellect that first fall to be considered. In
subsequent parts of this work I shall fully deal both with
morals and religion : in the present part I am concerned only
with the intellect.

And here it is, as I have acknowledged, that the great
psychological distinction is to be found. Nevertheless, even
here it must be conceded that up to a certain point, as
between the brute and the man, there is not merely a
similarity of kind, but an identity of correspondence. The
distinction only arises with reference to those super-added
faculties of ideation which occur above the level marked 28
in my diagram — i.e. where the upward growth of animal
intelligence ends, and the development of distinctively human
faculty begins. So that in the case of intellect, no less than
in that of emotion, instinct, and volition, there can be no
doubt that the human mind runs exactly parallel with the
animal, up to the place where these superadded powers of
intellect begin to supervene. Therefore, upon the face of
them, the facts of comparative psychology thus far, to say the
least, are strongly suggestive of these superadded powers
having been due to a process of continued evolution.

So much, then, for the points of agreement between
animal and human p.sychology. Turning next to the points

394 MEXTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX.

of difference, we had first to dispose of certain allegations
which were either erroneous in fact or plainly unsound in
theory. This involved a rejection /;/ toto of the following
distinctions — namely, that brutes are non-sentient machines ;
that they present no rudiments of reason in the sense of
perceiving analogies and drawing inferences therefrom ; that
they are destitute of any immortal principle ; that they show
no signs of progress from generation to generation ; that
they never employ barter, make fire, wear clothes, use tools,
and so forth. Among these sundry alleged distinctions,
those which are not demonstrably false in fact are demon-
strably false in logic. Whether or not brutes are destitute
of any immortal principle, and whether or not human beings
present such a principle, the science of comparative psychology
has no means of ascertaining ; and, therefore, any arguments
touching these questions are irrelevant to the subject-matter
on which we are engaged. Again, the fact that brutes do not
resemble ourselves in wearing clothes, making fire, &c.,
clearly depends on an absence in them of those powers of
higher ideation which alone are adequate to yield such
products in the way of intelligent action. All such differences
in matters of detail, therefore, really belong to, or are
absorbed by, the more general question as to the nature
of the distinction between the two orders of ideation. To
this, therefore, as to the real question before us, we next
addressed ourselves. And here it was pointed out, in limine,
that the three living naturalists of highest authority who still
argue for a difference of kind between the brute and the man,
although they agree in holding that only on grounds of
psychology can any such difference be maintained, neverthe-
less upon these grounds all mutually contradict one another.
For while Mr. .Nlivart argues that there must be a distinction
of kind, because the psychological interval between the
highest ape and the lowest man is so great ; Mr. Wallace
argues for the same conclusion on the ground that this
interval is not so great as the theory of a natural evolution
would lead us to expect : the brain of a savage, he saj-s, is so

GENERAL SUMMARY AND CONCLUDING REMARKS. 395

much more efficient an instrument than the mind to which it
ministers, that its presence can only be explained as a pre-
paration for the higher efficiency of mental life as afterwards
exhibited by civilized man. Lastly, Professor De Ouatrefages
contradicts both the English naturalists by vehemently insist-
ing that, so far as the powers of intellect are concerned, there
is a demonstrable identity of kind between animal intelli-
gence and human, whether in the savage or civilized condi-
tion : he argues that the distinction only arises in the domain
of morals and religion. So that, if our opinion on the issue
before us were to be in any way influenced by the voice of
authority, I might represent the judgments of these my most
representative opponents as mutually cancelling one another
— thus yielding a zero quantity as against the enormous and
self-consistent weight of authority on the other side.

But, quitting all considerations of authority, I proceeded
to investigate the question de novo, or exclusively on its own
merits. To do this it was necessary to begin with a some-
what tedious analysis of ideation. The general result was to
yield the following as my classification of ideas.

1. Mere memories of perceptions, or the abiding mental
images of past sensuous impressions. These are the ideas
which, in the terminology of Locke, we may designate Simple,
Particular, or Concrete. Nowadays no one questions that
such ideas are common to animals and men.

2. A higher class of ideas, which by universal consent
are also common to animals and men ; namely, those which
Locke called Complex, Compound, or Mixed. These are
something more than the simple memories of particular per-
ceptions ; they are generated by the mixture of such memories,
and therefore represent a compound, of which " particular
ideas " are the elements or ingredients. By the laws of asso-
ciation, particular ideas which cither resemble one another in
themselves, or frequently occur together in experience, tend
to coalesce and blend into one: as in a "composite photo-
graph" the sensitive plate is able to unite many more or less
similar images into a single picture, so the sensitive tablet of

T,g6 MEXTAL EVOLUTIOX LV A! AX.

the mind is able to make of many simple or particular ideas,
a complex, a compound, or, as I have called it, 2i ij^oieric idea.
Now, a generic idea of this kind differs from what is ordinarily
called a general idea (which we will consider in the next
paragraph), in that, although both are generated out of simpler
elementary constituents, the former are thus generated as it
were spontaneously or anatomically by the principles of mereh'
I)erceptual association, while the latter can only be produced
b)- a consciously intentional operation of the mind upon the
materials of its own' ideation, known as such. This operation
is what p.sychologists term conception, and the product of it
they term a concept. Hence we see that between the region
of percepts and those of concepts there lies a large interme-
diate territory, which is occupied by what I have called generic
ideas, or rccepts. A recept, then, differs from a percept in
that it is a compound of mental representations, involving an
orderly grouping of simpler images in accordance with past
experience ; while it differs from a concept in that this orderh'
grouping is due to an unintentional or automatic activity on
the part of the percipient mind. A recept, or generic idea,
is imparted to the mind by the external " logic of events ; "
while a general idea, or concept, is framed by the mind con-
sciously working to a higher elaboration of its own ideas. In
short, a recept is received, while a concept is conceived.

3. The highest class of ideas, which psychologists are
unanimous in denying to brutes, and which, therefore, we are
justified in regarding as the unique prerogative of man.
These are the General, Abstract, and Notional ideas of Locke,
or the Concepts just mentioned in the last paragraph. As we
have there seen, they differ from recepts — and, a fortiori,
from percepts, in that they are themselves the objects of
thought. In other words, it is a peculiarity of the human
mind that it is able to think about its own ideas as such, con-
sciously to combine and elaborate them, intentionally to
develop higher products out of less highly developed consti-
tuents. This remarkable power we found — also by common
consent — to depend on the faculty of self consciousness.

GEXERAL SUMMARY AND COXCLUDIXG REMARKS. 397

whereby the mind is able, as it were, to stand apart from
itself, to render one of its states objective to others, and thus
to contemplate its own ideas as such. Now, we are not con-
cerned with the philosophy of this fact, but only with its
history. How it is that such a faculty as self-consciousness
is possible ; what it is that can thus be simultaneously the
subject and the object of thought; whether or not it is con-
ceivable that the great abyss of personality can ever be
fathomed ; these and all such questions are quite alien to the
scope of the present work. All that we have here to do is to
analyze the psychological conditions out of which, as a matter
of observable fact, this unique peculiarity emerges — to trace
the history of the process, and tabulate the results. Well, we
have seen that here, again, every one agrees in regarding the
possibility of self-consciousness to be given in the faculty
of language. Whether or not we suppose that these two
faculties are one — that neither could exist without the other,
and, therefore, that we may follow the Greeks in assigning to
them the single name of Logos, — at least it is as certain as
the science of psychology can make it, that within the four
corners of human experience a self-conscious personality can-
not be led up to in any other way than through the medium
of language. For it is by language alone that, so far as we
have any means of knowing, a mind is rendered capable of so
far fixing — or rendering definite to itself — its own ideas, as to
admit of any subsequent contemplation of them as ideas. It
is only by means of marking ideas by names that the faculty
of conceptual thought is rendered possible, as we saw at con-
siderable length in Chapter IV.

Such, then, was my classification of ideas. And it is a
classification over which no dispute is likely to arise, seeing
that it merely sets in some kind of systematic order a body
of observable facts with regard to which writers of every
school are nowadays in substantial agreement. Now, if this
classification be accepted, it follows that the question before
us is thrown back ui)on the faculty of language. This facult}-,
therefore, I considered in a series of chai)ters. l''irst it was

398 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAX.

pointed out that, in its widest signification, " lani^uage " means
the faculty of making signs. Next, I adopted Mr. Mivart's
" Categories of Language," which, when sh'ghtly added to,
serve to give at once an accurate and exhaustive classification
of every bodily or mental act with reference to which the term
can possibly be applied. In all there were found to be seven
of these categories, of which the first six are admittedly
common to animals and mankind. The seventh, however, is
alleged by my opponents to be wholly peculiar to the human
species. In other words, it is conceded that animals do pre-
sent what may be termed the germ of the sign-making faculty ;
but it is denied that they be able, even in the lowest degree,
to make signs of an intellectual kind — i.e. of a kind which
consists in the bestowing of names as marks of ideas. Brutes
are admittedly able to make signs to one another — and also
to man — with the intentional purpose of conveying such ideas
as they possess ; but, it is alleged, no brute is able to name
these ideas, either by gestures, tones, or words. Now, in
order to test this allegation, I began by giving a number of
illustrations which were intended to show the level that is
reached by the sign-making faculty in brutes ; next I con-
sidered the language of tone and gesture as this is exhibited
by man ; then I proceeded to investigate the phenomena
of articulation, the relation of tone and gesture to words ;
and, lastly, the psychology of speech. Not to overburden
the present summary, I will neglect all the subordinate
results of this analysis. The main results, however, were that
the natural language of tone and gesture is identical wherever
it occurs ; but that even when it becomes conventional (as it
may up to a certain point in brutes), it is much less efficient than
articulate language as an agency in the construction of ideas ;
and, therefore, that the psychological line between brute and
man must be drawn, not at language, or sign-making in
general, but at that particular kind of sign-making which we
understand by "speech." Nevertheless, the real distinction
resides in the intellectual powers ; not in the symbols thereof.
So that a man means, it matters not bv what svstem of

GENERAL SUMMARY AND CONCLUDING REMARKS. 399

signs he expresses his meaning. In other words, although
I endeavoured to prove that articulation must have been
of unique service in developing these intellectual powers, I
was emphatic in representing that, when once these powers
are present, it is psychologically immaterial whether they
find expression in gesture or in speech. In any case the
psychological distinction between a brute and a man con-
sists in the latter being able to mean a proposition ; and
the kind of mental act which this involves is technically
termed a "judgment." Predication, or the making of a pro-
position— whether by gesture, tone, speech, or writing, — is
nothing more nor less than the expression of a judgment ;
and a judgment is nothing more nor less than the apprehen-
sion of whatever meaning it may be that a proposition serves
to set forth.

Now, this is admitted by all my opponents who under-
stand the psychology of the subject. Moreover, they allow
that if once this chasm of predication were bridged, there
would be no further chasm to cross. For it is universally
acknowledged that, from the simplest judgment which it is
possible to make — and, therefore, from the simplest proposition
which it is possible to construct — human intelligence displays
an otherwise uninterrupted ascent tlirough all the grades
of excellence which it afterwards presents. Here, therefore,
we had carefully to consider the psychology of predication.
And the result of our analysis was to show that the dis-
tinctively human faculty in question really occurs further
back than at the place where a mind is first able to construct
the formal proposition " A is B." It occurs at the place
where a mind is first able to bestow a name, known as such,
— to call A A, and B B, with a cognizance that in so doing it
is performing an act of conceptual classification. Therefore,
unless we extend the term "judgment" so as to embrace such
an act of conceptual naming (as well as the act of expressing
a relation between things conceptually named), we must
conclude that "the simplest clement of thought " is not a
judgment, but a concept. It is needless again to go over

400 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX.

the ground of this proof; for, although in the course of it
I had to point out certain inexcusable errors in psychological
analysis on the part of some of my opponents, the proof
itself is too complete to admit of any question.

Thus, then, we were brought back to our original distinc-
tion between a concept and a reccpt. But now we were
in a position to show that, just as in the matter of conducting
" inferences," so in the matter of making signs, there is an
order of ideation that is receptual as well as one that is
conceptual. And, more particularly, even in that kind of
sign-making which consists in the bestowing of names, idea-
tion of the receptual order may be concerned without any
assistance at all from ideation of the conceptual order. In
other words, there are names and names. Not every name
that is bestowed need necessarily be expressive of a concept,
any more than every " inference " that is conducted need
necessarily be the result of self-conscious thought. Not only
young children before they attain to self-conscious thought,
but even talking birds habitually name objects, qualities,
actions, and states. Nevertheless, while giving abundant
evidence of this fact, I was careful to point out that thus
far no argumentative implications of any importance were
involved. That a young child and a talking bird should be
able thus to learn the names of objects, qualities, &c., by
imitation — or even to invent arbitrary names of their own — -
is psychologically of no more significance than the fact that
both the child and the bird will similarly employ gesture-
signs or vocal tones whereby to express the simple logic of
their recepts. Nevertheless, it is needful in some way to
distinguish this non-conceptual kind of naming from that
kind which is peculiar to man after he has attained self-con-
sciousness, and thus is able, not only to name, but to knozv
that he names — not only to call A A^ but to think A as his
symbol of A. Now, in order to mark this distinction, I have
assigned the term denotation to naming of the receptual kind,
and applied the term denomination to naming of the concep-
tual kind. When a parrot calls a dog "]3ovv-vvow" (as a

GEXERAL SUMMARY AXD COXCLCDLYG REMARKS. 4OI

parrot, like a child, can easily be taught to do), it may be
said in a sense to be naming the dog ; but obviously it is not
predicating any characters as belonging to a dog, or perform-
ing any act oi Judgment with regard to a dog — as is the case,
for example, with a naturalist who, by means of his name
Canis, conceptually assigns that animal to a particular zoo-
logical genus. Although the parrot may never utter the
name " Bow-wow " save when it sees a dog, this fact is
attributable to the laws of association acting only in the
receptual sphere : it furnishes no shadow of a reason for
supposing that the bird ever thinks about the dog as a dog
or sets the concept Dog before its mind as a separate object
of thought. Therefore, none of my opponents can afford to
deny that in one sense of the word there may be names
without concepts : whether as gestures or as words (" vocal
gestures "), there may be signs of things without these signs
presenting any vestige of predicative value. Now, it is in
order not to prejudice the case of my opponents, and thus
clearly to mark out the field of discussion, that I have insti-
tuted the distinction between names as receptual and concep-
tual, or denotative and denominative.

This distinction having been clearly understood, the next
point was that both kinds of names admit of connotative
extension — denotative names within the receptual sphere, and
denominative within the conceptual. That is to say, when a
name has been applied to one thing, its use may be extended
to another thing, which is seen to belong to the same class
or kind. The degree to which such connotative extension of
a name may take place depends, of course, on the degree in
which the mind is able to take cognizance of resemblances
or analogies. Hence the process can go much further in
the conceptual sphere than it does in the receptual. But the
important point is that it unquestionably takes place in the
latter within certain limits. Nor is this anything more than
we should antecedently expect. For in the lengthy account
and from the numerous facts which I gave of the receptual
intelligence of brutes, it was abundantl)- proved that long

2 D

402 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX.

before the dififerential engine of conception has come to the
assistance of mind, mind is able to reach a high level in the
distinguishing of resemblances or analogies by means of
receptual discrimination alone. Consequently, it is inevitable
that non-conceptual or denotative names should undergo a
connotative extension, within whatever limits these powers of
merely receptual discrimination impose. And, as a matter
of fact, we found that such is the case. A talking bird will
extend its denotative name from one dog in particular to any
other dog which it may happen to see ; and a young child,
after having done this, will extend the denotative name still
further, so as to include images, and eventually pictures, of
dogs. Hence, if the receptual intelligence of a parrot were
somewhat more advanced than it happens to be, we can have
no doubt that it would do the same : the only reason why in
this matter it parts company with a child so soon as it does,
is because its receptual intelligence is not sufficiently deve-
loped to perceive the resemblance of images and pictures to
the objects which they are intended to represent. But the-
receptual intelligence of a dog is higher than that of a parrot,
and some dogs are able to perceive resemblances of this kind.
Therefore if dogs, like parrots, had happened to be able to
articulate, and so to learn the use of denotative names, there
can be no doubt that they would have accompanied the
growing child through a somewhat further reach of conno-
tative utterance than is the case with the only animals which
present the anatomical conditions required for the imitation
of articulate sounds. Both dogs and monkeys are able, in
an extraordinary degree, to iniderstaiid these sounds : that
is to say, they can learn the meanings of an astonishing
number of denotative names, and also be taught to apprehend
a surprisingly large extension of connotative significance.
Consequently, if they could but imitate these sounds, after
the manner of a parrot, it is certain that they would greatly
distance the parrot in this matter of receptual connotation.

But, lastly, we are not shut up to any such hypothetical
case. For the growing child itself furnishes us with evidence

GEXERAL SUMMARY AXD CGNCLUDIXG REMARKS. 403

Upon the point, which is no less cogent than would be the
case if dogs and monkeys were able to talk. For, without
argumentative suicide, none of my opponents can afford to
suggest that, up to the age when self-consciousness dawns,
the young child is capable of conceptual connotation ; yet
it is unquestionable that up to that age a continuous growth
of connotation has been taking place, which, beginning with
the level that it shares with a parrot, is eventually able to
construct what 1 have called " receptual propositions," the
precise nature of which I will summarise in a subsequent
paragraph. The evidence which I have given of this conno-
tative extension of denotative names by children before the
age at which self-consciousness supervenes — and, therefore,
prior to the very condition which is required for conceptual
ideation — is, I think, overwhelming. And I do not see how
its place in my argument can be gainsaid by any opponent,
except at the cost of ignoring my distinction between conno-
tation as receptual and conceptual. Yet to do this would be
to surrender his whole case. Either there is a distinction,
or else there is not a distinction, between connotation that
is receptual, and connotation that is conceptual. If there is
no distinction, all argument is at an end : the brute and the
man are one in kind. But I allow that there is a distinction,
and I acknowledge that the distinction resides where it is
alleged to reside by my opponents — namely, in the presence
or absence of self-consciousness on the part of a mind which
bestows a name. Or, to revert to my own terminology, it is
the distinction between denotation and denomination.

Now, in order to analyze this distinction, it became needful
further to distinguish between the highest level of receptual
ideation that is attained by any existing brute, and those
further developments of receptual ideation which arc presented
by the growing child, after it parts company with all existing
brutes, but before it assumes even the lowest stage of concep-
tual ideation — i.e. prior to the dawn of self-consciousness.
This subordinate distinction I characterized by the terms
" lower recepts " and " higher reccpts." Already I had insti-

404 MEXTAL EVOLUTIOX IX M.IX.

tutcd a distinction between "lower concepts" and "highcr
conccpts," meaning by the former the conceptual naming of
recepts, and by the latter a similar naming of other concepts.
So that altogether four large and consecutive territories were
thus marked out: (i) Lower Recepts, which are co-extensive
with the psychology of existing animals, including a verj^
young child ; (2) Higher Recepts, which occupy a psycho-
logical area between the recepts of animals and the first
appearance of self-consciousness in man ; (3) Lower Concepts,
which are concerned only with the self-conscious naming of
recepts ; (4) Higher Concepts, which have to do with the
self-conscious classification of other concepts known as such,
and the self-conscious naming of such ideal integrations as
may result therefrom.

Now% if all this is true of naming, clearly it must also be
true of judging. If there is a stage of pre-conceptual naming
(denotation), there must also be a stage of pre-conceptual
judgment, of which such naming is the expression. No
doubt, in strictness, the term judgment should be reserved
for conceptual thought (denomination) ; but, in order to
avoid an undue multiplication of terms, 1 prefer thus to qualify
the existing word "judgment." Such, indeed, has already
been the practice among psychologists, who speak of " in-
tuitive judgments" as occurring even in acts of perception.
All, therefore, that I propose to do is to institute two addi-
tional classes of non-conceptual judgment — namely, lower
receptual and higher receptual, or, more briefly, receptual and
pre-conceptual. If one may speak of an "intuitive," "uncon-
scious," or " perceptual " judgment (as when we mistake
a hollow bowl for a sphere), much more may we speak
of a receptual judgment (as when a sea-bird dives from a
height into water, but will not do so upon land), or a pre-con-
ceptual judgment (as when a young child will extend the use
of a denotative name without any denominative conception).
In all, then, we have four phases of ideation to which the
term judgment may be thus either literally or metaphorically
applied — namely, the perceptual, receptual, pre-conceptual,

GENERAL SUMMARY AXD CONCLUDIXG REMARKS. 405

and conceptual. Of these the last only is judgment, properly
so called. Therefore I do not say that a brute really judges
when, without any self-conscious thought, it brings together
certain reminiscences of its past experience in the form of
recepts, and translates for us the result of its ideation by the
performance of what ^Ir. Mivart calls "practical inferences."
Neither do I say that a brute really judges when, still without
self-conscious thought, it learns correctly to employ denotative
names. Nay, I should deny that a brute really judges even
if, after it is able to denotate separately two different recepts
(as is done by a talking bird), it were to name these two
recepts simultaneously when thus combined in an act of
" practical inference." Although there would then be the
outward semblance of a proposition, we should not be strictly
right in calling it a proposition. It would, indeed, be the
statement of a truth perceived ; but not the statement of a
truth perceived as true.

Now, if all this be admitted in the case of a brute — as it
must be by any one who takes his stand on the faculty
of true or conceptual judgment, — obviously it must also be
admitted in the case of the growing child. In other words,
if it can be proved that a child is able to state a truth before
it is able to state a truth as true, it is thereby proved that
in the psychological history of every human being there is
first the kind of predication which is required for dealing with
receptual knowledge, or for the stating of truths perceived ;
and next the completed judgment which is required for
dealing with conceptual knowledge, or of stating truths
perceived as true. Of course the condition required for the
raising of this lower kind of judgment and this lower kind
of predication (if, for the sake of convenience, we agree to use
these terms) into the higher or only true kind of judgment
and predication, is the advent of self-consciousness. Or, in
other words, the place where a mere statement of truth first
passes into a real predication of truth, is determined by the
place at which there first supervenes the faculty of introspec-
tive reflection. The whole issue is thus reduced to an

406 MEXTAL EJ'OLUTIOX IX MAX.

analysis of self-consciousness. To this analysis, therefore,
we next addressed ourselves.

Seeing that the faculty in question only occurs in man,
obviously it is only in the case of man that any material
is supplied for the analysis of it. Moreover, as previously
remarked, so far as this our analysis is concerned, we have
only to deal with the psychology of self-consciousness : we
are not concerned with its philosophy. Now, as a matter
of psychology, no one can possibly dispute that the faculty
in question is one of gradual development ; that during
the first two or three years of the growing intelligence of
man there is no vestige of any such faculty at all ; that
when it does begin to dawn, the human mind is already much
in advance of the mind of any brute ; but that, even so, it is
much less highly developed than it is afterwards destined to
become ; and that the same remark applies to the faculty of
self-consciousness itself Furthermore, it will be granted that
self-consciousness consists in paying the same kind of atten-
tion to internal, or psychical processes, as is habitually paid
to external, or physical processes — although, of course, the
degrees in which such attention may be yielded are as various
in the one case as in the other. Lastly, it will be further
granted that in the minds of brutes, as in the minds of men,
there is a world of images, or recepts ; and that the only
reason why in the former case these images are not attended
to unless called up by the sensuous association of their corre-
sponding objects, is because the mind of a brute is not able to
leave the ground of such merely sensuous association, so as
to move through the higher and more tenuous region of intro-
spective thought. Nevertheless, I have proved that this
image-world, even in brutes, displays a certain amount of
internal activity, which is not wholly dependent on sensuous
associations supplied from without. For the phenomena of
" home-sickness," pining for absent friends, dreaming, halluci-
nation, &c., amply demonstrate the fact that in our more
intelligent domesticated animals there may be an internal
(though unintentional) play of ideation, wherein one image

GEXERAL SUMMARY A. YD CONCLCDING REMARKS. 407

suggests another, this another, and so on, without the need of
any immediate associations supplied from present objects
of sense. Furthermore, I have pointed out that receptual
ideation of this kind is not restricted to the images of sense-
perception ; but is largely concerned with the mental states
of other animals. That is to say, the logic of recepts, even
in brutes, is sufficient to enable the mind to establish true
analogies between subjective states and the corresponding
states of other intelligences : animals habitually and accurately
interpret the mental states of other animals, while also well
knowing that other animals are able similarly to interpret
theirs. Hence, it must be further conceded that intelligent
animals recognize a world of ejects, as well as a world of
objects : mental existence is known to them ejectively,
though, as I allow, never thought upon subjectively. At this
stage of mental evolution the individual — whether an animal
or an infant — so far realizes its own individuality as to be
informed by the logic of recepts that it is one of a kind,
although of course it does not recognize either its own or any
other individuality as such.

Nevertheless, there is thus given a rudimentary or nascent
form of self-consciousness, which up to the stage of develop-
ment that it attains in a brute or an infant may be termed
receptual self-consciousness ; while in the more advanced
stages which it presents in young children it may be termed
pre-conceptual self-consciousness. Pre-conceptual self-con-
sciousness is exhibited by all children after they have begun
to talk, but before they begin to speak of themselves in the
first person, or otherwise to give any evidence of realizing
their own existence as such. Later on, when true self-con-
sciousness does arise, the child, of course, is able to do this ;
and then only^ is supplied the condition sine qua non to a
reflection upon its own ideas — hence to a knowledge of names
as names, and so to a statement of truths as true. But long
before this stage of true or conceptual self-consciousness is
reached — whereby alone is rendered possible true or con-
ceptual predication — the child, in virtue of its pre-conceptual

40S MEXTAL EVOLUTION EV MAN.

self-consciousness, is able to make known its wants, and
otherwise to communicate its ideas, by way of pre-conceptual
predication. I gave many instances of this pre-conceptual
predication, which abundantly proved that the pre-concep-
tual self-consciousness of which it is the expression amounts
to nothing more than a practical recognition of self as an
active and feeling agent, without any introspective recognition
of that self as an object of knowledge.

Given, then, this stage of mental evolution, and what
follows "^ The child, like the animal, is supplied by its logic
of recepts with a world of images, standing as signs of
outward objects ; with an ejective knowledge of other minds,
and with that kind of recognition of self as an active,
suffering, and accountable agent to which allusion has just
been made. But, over and above the animal, the child has
now at its command a much more improved machinery of
sign-making, which, as we have before seen, is due to the
higher evolution of its receptual ideation. Now among the
contents of this ideation is a better apprehension of the mental
states of other human beings, together with a greatly increased
power of denotative utterance, whereby the child is able to
name receptually such ejective states as it thus receptually
apprehends. These, therefore, severally receive their appro-
priate denotations, and so gain clearness and precision as
ejective images of the corresponding states experienced by
the child itself " Mamma pleased to Dodo" would have no
meaning as spoken by a child, unless the child knew from his
own feelings what is the state of mind which he thus ejectively
attributes to his mother. Hence, we find that at the same
age the child will also say " Dodo pleased to mamma."
Now it is evident that we are here approaching the very
borders of true or conceptual self-consciousness. The child,
no doubt, is still speaking of himself in objective phraseology ;
but he has advanced so far in the interpretation of his own
states of mind as clcarl}' to name them, in the same way as
he would name any external objects of sense-perception.
Thus is he enabled to fix these states before his mental vision

GENERAL SUMMARY AXD CONCLUDING REMARKS. 409

as things which admit of being denoted by verbal signs,
although as yet he has never thought about either the states
of mind or his names for them as such, and, therefore, has not
yet attained to the faculty of denomination. But the interval
between denotation and denomination has now become so
narrow that the step from recognizing " Dodo " as not only
the object, but also the subject of mental changes, is rendered
at once eas}- and inevitable. The mere fact of attaching
verbal signs to mental states has the effect of focussing
attention upon those states ; and when attention is thus
focussed habitually, there is supplied the only further con-
dition which is required to enable a mind, through its memory
of previous states, to compare its past with its present, and
so to reach that apprehension of continuity among its own
states wherein the full introspective, or conceptual conscious-
ness of self consists.

Several subordinate features in the evolution of this con-
ceptual from prc-conceptual self-consciousness were described ;
but it is needless again to mention them. Enough has been
here said to show ample grounds for the conclusions which
my chapter on " Self-consciousness " was mainly concerned
in establishing — namely, that language is quite as much the
antecedent as it is the consequent of self-consciousness ; that
pre-conceptual predication is indicative of a pre-conceptual
self-consciousness ; and that from these there naturally and
inevitably arise those higher powers of conceptual predication
and conceptual self-consciousness on which my opponents
(disregarding the phases that lead up to them) have sought to
rear their alleged distinction of kind between the brute and
the man.

Thus, as a general result of the whole inquiry so far,
we may say that throughout the entire range of mental
phenomena we have found one and the same distinction to
obtain between the faculties of mind as perceptual, receptual,
and conceptual. Percept, Rccept, and Concept ; Perceptual
Judgment, Receptual Judgment, and Concei)tual Judgment ;
Indication, Denotation, and Denomination ; — these are all

410 ME XT A I. EVOLUTIOX IN MAX.

manifestations, in different regions of psychological inquiry,
of the same psychological distinctions. And we have seen
that the distinction between a Recept and a Concept, which is
thus carried through all the fjibric of mind, is really the onl}-
distinction about which there can be any dispute. More-
over, we have seen that the distinction is on all hands allowed
to depend on the presence or absence of self-consciousness.
Lastly, we have seen that even in the province of self-con-
sciousness itself the same distinction admits of being traced :
there is a form of self-consciousness which may be termed
rcceptual, as well as that which may be termed conceptual.
The whole question before us thus resolves itself into an
inquir}' touching the relation between these two forms of
self-consciousness : is it or is it not observable that the one
is devclopmentally continuous with the other? Can we or
can we not perceive that in the growing child the powers of
receptual self-conciousness, which it shares with a brute, pass
by slow and natural stages into those powers of conceptual
self-consciousness which are distinctive of a man ?

This question was fully considered in Chapter XI. I had
previously shown that so far as the earliest, or indicative
phase of language is concerned, no difference even of degree
can be alleged between the infant and the animal. I had also
shown that neither could any such difference be alleged with
regard to the earlier stages of the next two phases — namel}-,
the denotative and the receptually connotative. Moreover,
I had shown that no difference of kind could be alleged
between this lower receptual utterance which a child shares
witli a brute, and that higher receptual utterance which it
proceeds to develop prior to the advent of self-consciousness.
Lastly, I had shown that this higher receptual utterance gives
to the child a psychological instrument whereby to work its
way from a merely receptual to an incipiently conceptual
consciousness of self Such being the state of the facts as
established by my previous analysis, I put to my opponents
the following dilemma. Taking the case of a child about two
years old, who is able to frame such a rudimentary, com-

GENERAL SUMMARY AND CONCLUDING REM ARIZ'S. 4I I

municative, or pre-conceptual proposition as " Dit ki " (Sister
is crying), I proceeded thus.

"Dit" is the denotative name of one recept, "ki" the deno-
tative name of another : the object and the action which these
two recepts severall}^ represent happen to occur together
before the child's observation : the child, therefore, denotes
them simultaneously — i.e. brings them into apposition. The
apposition in consciousness of these two recepts, with their
corresponding denotations, is thus effected for the child by
the logic of events : it is not effected by the child in the way
of any intentional or self-conscious grouping of its ideas, such
as we have seen to be the distinguishing feature of the logic
of concepts. Here, then, comes the dilemma. For I say, either
you here have conceptual judgment, or else you have not.
If you say that this is conceptual judgment, you destroy the
basis of your own distinction between man and brute, because
then you must also say that brutes conceptually judge — the
child as yet not having attained to conceptual self-conscious-
ness. If, on the other hand, you say that here you have not
conceptual judgment, inasmuch as you have not self-con-
sciousness, I ask at what stage in the subsequent development
of the child's intelligence you would consider conceptual
judgment to arise. Should you answer that it first arises
when conceptual self-consciousness first supplies the condition
to its arising, I must refer you to the proof already given that
the advent of self-consciousness is itself a gradual process, the
precedent conditions of which are supplied far down in the
animal series. But if this is so, where the faculty of stating a
truth perceived passes into the higher faculty of perceiving
the truth as true, there is a continuous series of gradations
connecting the one faculty with the other. Up to the point
where this continuous series of gradations begins, the mind of
the child is, as I have already proved, indistinguishable from
the mind of an animal by any one principle of psychology.
Will you, then, maintain that up to this time the two orders
of psychical existence are identical in kind, but that during
its ascent through this final series of crradations tlie human

412 MENTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX.

intelligence becomes distinct in kind from that of animals,
and therefore also from its oicn previous self ^ If so, }'our
argument here ends in a contradiction.

In confirmation of this my general argument, two sub-
sidiary considerations were then added. The first was that
although the advance to true self-consciousness from lower
grades of mental development is no doubt a very great and
important matter, still it is not so great and important in
comparison with what this development is afterwards destined
to become, as to make Wp feel that it constitutes an\- distinc-
tion sni generis — or even, perhaps, the principal distinction —
between the man and the brute. For even when self-con-
sciousness does arise, and has become fairly well developed,
the powers of the human mind are still in an almost infantile
condition. In other words, the first genesis of true self-con-
sciousness marks a comparatively low level in the evolution
of the human mind — as we might expect that it should, if its
genesis depends upon, and therefore lies so near to, those
precedent conditions in merely animal psychology to which I
have assigned it. But, if so, does it not follow that, great as
the importance of self-consciousness afterwards proves to be
in the development of distinctively human ideation, in itself,
or in its first beginning, it does not betoken an}' \'ery per-
ceptible advance upon those powers of pre-conceptual ideation
which it immediately follows .'' There is thus shown to be even
less reason for regarding the first advent of conceptual self-
consciousness as marking a psychological difference of kind,
than there would be so to regard the advent of those higher
powers of conceptual ideation which subsequently — though
as gradually — supervene between early childhood and youth.
Yet no one has hitherto ventured to suggest that the intel-
ligence of a child and the intelligence of a youth display a
difference of kind.

The second subsidiary consideration which I adduced was,
that even in the case of a full}' developed self-conscious intel-
ligence, both receptual and pre-conceptual ideation continue
to pla}^ an important part. The vast majority of our verbal

GEXERAL SUMMARY A XD COXCLUDIXG REMARKS. 413

propositions are made for the practical purposes of commu-
nication, or without the mind pausing to contemplate the pro-
positions in the light of self-consciousness. No doubt in many-
cases, or in those where highly abstract ideation is concerned,
this independence of the two faculties is more apparent than
real : it arises from each having undergone so much elabo-
ration by the assistance which it has derived from the other,
that both are now in possession of a large body of organized
material on which to operate, without requiring, whenever they
are exercised, to build up the structure of this material ab
initio. When I say " Heat is a mode of motion," I am using
what is now to me a mere verbal sign, which expresses an
external fact : I do not require to examine my own ideas
upon the abstract relation which the proposition sets forth,
although for the original attainment of these ideas I had to
exercise many and complex efforts of conceptual thought.
But although I hold this to be the true explanation of the
apparent independence of predication and introspection in
all cases of highly abstract thought, I am convinced, on the
ground of adequate reasons given, that in all cases where
those lower orders of ideation are concerned to which I
have so often referred as receptual and pre-conceptual, the
independence is not only apparent, but real. Now, if the
reasons which I have assigned for this conclusion are ade-
quate— and they are reasons sanctioned by Mill, — it follows
that the ideation concerned in ordinary predication becomes
so closely affiliated with that which is expressed in the lower
levels of sign-making, that even if the connecting links were
not supplied by the growing child, no one would be justified,
on psychological grounds alone, in alleging any difference of
kind between one level and another. The object of all sign-
making is communication, and from our study of the lower
animals we know that communication first has to do exclu-
sively with rccepts, while from our study of the growing child
we know that it is the signs used in the communication of
rccepts which first lead to the formation of concepts, l-'or
concepts are first of all named recepts, known as such ; and

4 I 4 ME XT A L E I 'OL UTIOX IN MA X.

we have seen in previous chapters that this kind of knowledge
(i.e. of names as names) is rendered possible by introspection,
which, in turn, is reached b}' the naming of self as an agent,
l^ut even after the power of conceptual introspection has been
fully reached, demand is not always made upon it for the
communication of merely receptual knowledge ; and therefore
it is that not every proposition requires to be introspcctively
contemplated as such before it can be made. Given the power
of denotative nomination on the one hand, and the power of
even the lowest degree of connotative nomination on the
other, and all the conditions are furnished to the formation
of non-conceptual statements, which differ from true propo-
sitions only in that they do not themselves become objects of
thought. And the only difference between such a statement
when made by a young child, and the same statement when
similarly made by a grown man, is that in the former case it
is not QMQX\ potentially capable of itself becoming an object of
thought.

The investigation having been thus concluded so far
as comparative psychology was concerned, I next turned
upon the subject the independent light of comparative
philology. Whereas we had hitherto been dealing with
what on grounds of psychological analysis alone we might
fairly infer were the leading phases in the development of
distinctively human ideation, we now turned to that large
mass of direct evidence which is furnished by the record of
Language, and is on all hands conceded to render a kind
of unintentional record of the prc-historic progress of this
ideation.

The first great achievement of comparative philology has
been that of demonstrating, beyond all possibility of question,
that language as it now exists did not appear ready-made,
or by way of any specially created intuition. Comparative
philology has furnished a completed proof of the fact that
language, as we now know it, has been the result of a
gradual evolution. In the chapter on "Comparative

GENERAL SUMMARY AXD CONCLUDING REMARKS. 415

Philology," therefore, I briefly traced the principles of
language growth, so far as these are now well recognized by
all philologists. It was shown, as a matter of classification,
that the thousand or more existing languages fall into about
one hundred families, all the members of each family being
more or less closely allied, while members of different families
do not present evidence of genetic affinity. Nevertheless,
these families admit of being comprised under larger groups
or "orders," in accordance with certain characteristics of
structure, or type, which they present. Of these types all
philologists are agreed in distinguishing between the
Isolating, the Agglutinating, and the Inflectional. Some
philologists make a similar distinction between these and
the Polysynthetic, while all are agreed that from the agglu-
tinative the Incorporating type has been derived, and from
the inflectional the Analytic.

Passing on from classification to phylogeny, we had to
consider the question of genetic relationship between the
three main orders, inter se, and also between the Polysyn-
thetic type and the Agglutinating. The conflict of authori-
tative opinion upon this question v.as shown to have no
bearing upon the subject-matter of this treatise, further than
to emphasize the doctrine of the polyphylectic origin of
language — the probability appearing to be that, regarded as
types, both the isolating and the polysynthetic are equally
archaic, or, at all events, that they have been of equally
independent growth. In this connection I adduced the
hypothesis of Dr. Hale, to the effect that the many apparently
independent tongues which arc spoken by different native
tribes of the New World, may have been in large part due to
the inventions of accidentally isolated children. The curious
correlation between multiplicity of independent tongues and
districts favourable to the life of unprotected children — in
Africa as well as in America — seemed to support this h)'po-
thesis ; while good evidence was given to show that children, if
left much alone, do invent for themselves languages which
have little or no resemblance to that of their parents.

4l6 MEXTAL EVOLUTIOX IX MAX.

Without rccapitulatini^ all that was said upon the phases
and causes of linguistic evolution in its various lines of
descent, it will be enough to remind the reader that in ever}'
case the result of philological inquiry is here the same —
namely, to find that languages become simpler in their
structure the further they are traced backwards, until we
arrive at their so-called " roots." These are sometimes
represented as the mysterious first principles of language,
or even as the aboriginal data whose origin is inexplicable.
As a matter of fact, however, these roots arc nothing more
than the ultimate results of philological analysis : in no other
sense than this can they be supposed " primary." Seeing,
then, that these roots represent the materials of language up
to the place where the evolution of language no longer
admits of being clearly traced, it is evident that their antece-
dents, whatever they may have been, necessarily lie beyond
the reach of philological demonstration, as distinguished from
philological inference. This, of course, is what an evolu-
tionist knows antecedently must be the case sonieivhere in the
course of any inquiry touching the process of evolution,
wherever he may have occasion to trace it. For the further
he is able to trace it, the nearer must he be coming to the
place where the very material which he is investigating has
taken its origin; and as it is this material itself which
furnishes the evidences of evolution, when it has been traced
back to its own origin, the inquiry reaches a vanishing point.
Adopting the customary illustration of a tree, we might sa}-
that when a philologist has traced the development of the
leaves from the twigs, the twigs from the branches, the
branches from the stems, and the stems from the roots, he
has given to the evolutionist all the evidence of evolution
which in this particular line of inquiry is antecedently
possible. The germ of ideation out of which the roots
developed must obviously lie beyond the reach of the philo-
logist as such ; and if any light is to be thrown upon the
nature of this germ, or if any evidence is to be yielded of
the phases whereby the germ gave origin to the roots, this

GENERAL SUMMARY AND CONCLUDING REMARKS. A.IJ

must be done by some other lines of inquiiy finding similar
germs giving rise to similar products elsewhere. In the
present instance, the onl}^ place where we can look for such
parallel processes of evolution is in the case of the growing
child, which I have already considered.

Here, then, we are in the presence of exactly the same
distinction with regard to the origin of Language, as we were
at the beginning of this treatise with regard to the origin of
Man. For we there saw that, while we have the most cogent
historical proof of the principles of evolution having governed
the progress of civilization, we have no such direct proof of
the descent of man from a brutal ancestry. And here likewise
we find that, so long as the light of philology is able to guide
us, there can be no doubt that the principles of evolution
have determined the gradual development of languages, in a
manner strictly analogous to that in which they have deter-
mined the ever-increasing refinement and complexity of
social organizations. Now, in the latter case we saw that
such direct evidence of evolution from lower to higher levels
of culture renders it well-nigh certain that the method must
have extended backwards beyond the historical period ; and
hence that such direct evidence of evolution uniformly per-
vading the historical period in itself furnishes a strong prima
facie presumption that this period was itself reached by means
of a similarly gradual development of human faculty. And
thus, also, it is in the case of language. If philology is able
to prove the fact of evolution in all known languages as far
back as the primitive roots out of which they have severally
grown, the presumption becomes exceedingly strong that
these earliest and simplest elements, like their later and
more complex products, were the result of a natural growth.
Or, in the words already quoted from Geiger, we cannot
forbear concluding that language must once have had no
existence at all. Nevertheless, it is important to distinguish
between demonstrated fact and speculative inference, however
strong ; and, therefore, I began by stating the stages of
evolution through which languages are now known to iiavc

2. !•:

41 8 MENTAL EVOLUTION IX MAX.

passed from the root-stage upwards. Having done this, I
proceeded to consider the question touching the origin of
these roots themselves.

First, as to their number, we found that the outside esti-
mate, in the younger days of philological research, gave one
thousand as a fair average of the roots which go to feed any
living language ; but that this estimate might now be safely
reduced by three-fourths. Indeed, in his latest work, Professor
Max MuUer professes to have reduced the roots of Sanskrit
to as low a number as I2i, and thinks that even this is
excessive. Regarding the character of roots, we saw that
some philologists look upon them as the actual words which
were used by the pre-historic speakers, who, therefore, "talked
with one another in single syllables, indicative of ideas of
prime importance, but wanting all designation of their rela-
tions." * On the other hand, it is now the generally accepted
belief, that "roots are the phonetic and significant types
discovered by the analysis of the comparative philologist as
common to a group of allied words,"! — or, as it were, composite
phonograms of families of words long since extinct as
individuals. We saw, however, that this difference of opinion
among philologists does not affect the present inquiry, seeing
that even the phonetic-type theory does not question that the
unknown words out of the composition of which a root is now
extracted must have been genetically allied with one another,
and exhibited the closeness of their kinship by a close
similarity of their sounds.

A much more important question for us is the character
of these roots with respect to their significance. In this con-
nection we found that they indicate what Professor Max Miiller
calls "general ideas," or "concepts ;" bear testimony to an
already and, comparatively speaking, advanced stage of social
culture ; are all expressive either of actions or states ; and
betray no signs of imitative origin. Taking each of these
characters separately, we found that although all the 121
roots of Sanskrit are expressive of general ideas, the order of

* Whitney. f Sayce.

GENERAL SUMMARY AND COYCLUDIXG REMARKS. 419

generality is so low as for the most part to belong to that
which I had previously called " lower concepts," or " named
recepts." Next, that they all bear intrinsic testimony to their
own comparatively recent origin, and, therefore, are "primi-
tive" only in the sense of representing the last result of philo-
logical analysis : they certainly are very far from primitive
in the sense of being aboriginal. Again, that they are all
of the nature of verbs was shown to be easily explicable ;
and, lastly, the fact that none of them betray any imitative
source is not to be wondered at, even on the supposition
that onomatopceia entered largely into the composition of
aboriginal speech. For, on the one hand, we saw that in the
struggle for existence among aboriginal and early words,
those only could have stood any chance of survival — i.e. of
leaving progeny — which had attained to some degree of
connotative extension, or "generality;" and, on the other
hand, that in order to do this an onomatopoctic word must
first have lost its onomatopoetic significance. A large body of
evidence was adduced in support of the onomatopoetic theory,
and certain objections which have been advanced against it
were, I think, thoroughly controverted. Later on, however,
we saw that the question as to the degree in which onomato-
poeia entered in to the construction of aboriginal speech is
really a question of secondary interest to the evolutionist.
Whether in the first instance words were all purely arbitrary,
all imitative, or some arbitrary and some imitative, — in any
case the course of their subsequent evolution would have been
the same. By connotative extension in divergent lines,
meanings would have been progressively multiplied in those
lines through all the progeny of ever-multiplying terms — ^just
in the same way as we find to be the case in " baby-talk," and
as philologists have amply proved to be the case with the
growth of languages in general.

That speech from the first should have been concerned
with the naming of generic ideas, or higher recepts, as well
as with particular objects of sense, is what the evolutionist
would antecedently expect. It must be remembered that the

420 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

kind of classification with which rccepts are concerned is that
which lies nearest to the automatic groupings of sensuous
perception : it depends on an absence of any power analyti-
cally to distinguish less perceptible points of difference among
more conspicuous points of resemblance — or non-essential
analogies among essential analogies with which they happen
to be frequently associated in experience. On the other
hand, the kind of classification with which concepts are
concerned is that which lies furthest from the automatic
groupings of sensuous perception : it depends on the power
of analytically distinguishing between essentials and non-
essentials among resemblances which occur associated to-
gether in experience. Classification there doubtless is in
both cases ; but in the one it is due to the obviousness
of analogies, while in the other it is due to the mental dis-
sociation of analogies as apparent and real. Or else, in the
one case it is due to constancy of association in experience
of the objects, attributes, actions, &c., classified ; while in the
other case it is due to a conscious disregard of such association.
Now, if we remember these things, we can no longer
wonder that the palaeontology of speech should prove early
roots to have been expressive of "generic," as distinguished
from "general" ideas. The naming of actions and processes
so habitual, or so immediately apparent to perception, as
those to which the "121 concepts" tabulated by Professor
Max Mliller refer, does not betoken an order of ideation
very much higher than the pre-conceptual, in virtue of which
a young child is able to give expression to its higher recep-
tual life, prior to the advent of self- consciousness. In view
of these considerations, my only wonder is that the 121 root-
words do not present better evidence of conceptual thought.
This, however, only shows how comparatively small a part
self-conscious reflection need play in the practical life of
early man, even when so far removed from the really
" primitive " condition of hitherto wordless man as was that
of the pastoral people who have left this record of ideation
in the roots of Aryan speech.

GEXERAL SUMMARY AXD CONCLUDIXG REMARK'S. 42 1

After having thus explained the absence of words
significant of "particular ideas" among the roots of existing
language, as well as the generic character of those which the
struggle for existence has permitted to come down to us, we
went on to consider sundry other corroborations of our
previous analysis which are yielded by the science of philology.
First we saw that this science has definitely proved two
general facts with regard to the growth of predication —
namely, that in all the still existing radical languages there
is no distinction between noun, adjective, verb, or particle ;
and that the structure of all other languages shows this to
have been the primitive condition of language-structure in
general : " every noun and every verb was originally by itself
a complete sentence," consisting of a subject and predicate
fused into one — or rather, let us say, not yet differentiated
into the tivo, much less into the three parts which now go to
constitute the fully evolved structure of a proposition. Now,
this form of predication is " condensed " only because it is
undeveloped ; it is the undifferentiated protoplasm of pre-
dication, wherein the " parts of speech " as yet have no exist-
ence. And just as this, the earliest stage of predication, is
distinctive of the pre-conceptual stage of ideation in a child,
so it is of the pre-conceptual ideation of the race. Abundant
evidence was therefore given of the gradual evolution of pre-
dicative utterance, pari passu with conceptual thought —
evidence which is woven through the whole warp and woof
of every language which is now spoken by man. In par-
ticular, we saw that pronouns were originally words indicative
of space relations, and strongly suggestive of accompany-
ing acts of pointing — "I" being equivalent to "this one,"
" He" to "that one," &c. Moreover, just as the young child
begins by speaking of itself in the third person, so " Man
regarded himself as an object before he learnt to regard
himself as a subject," * as is proved by the fact that " the
objective cases of the personal as well as of the other
pronouns, are always older than the subjective." f rronominal
• I'arrar. t CinicU.

42 2 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

elements afterwards became affixed to nouns and verbs, when
these began to be differentiated from one another ; and thus
various apphcations of a primitive and highly generalized
noun or verb were rendered by means of these elements,
which, as even Professor ]\Iax IMuller allows, "must be con-
sidered as remnants of the earliest and almost pantomimic
phase of language, in which language was hardly as yet what
we mean by language, namely logos, a gathering, but only a
pointing." Similarly, Professor Sayce remarks of this stage in
the evolution of predicative utterance — which, be it observed,
is precisely analogous to that occupied by a young child
whose highly generalized words require to be assisted by
gestures — " It is certain that there was a time in the history
of speech when articulate or semi-articulate sounds uttered
by primitive man were made the significant representations
of thought by the gestures with W'hich they were accompanied :
and this complex of sound and gesture — a complex in which,
be it remembered, the sound had no meaning apart from the
gesture — was the earliest sentence." Thus it was that " gram-
mar has grown out of gesture" — different parts of speech,
with the subsequent commencements of declension, conjuga-
tion, &c., being all so many children of gesticulation: but when
in subsequent ages the parent was devoured by this youthful
progeny, they continued to pursue an independent growth
in more or less divergent lines of linguistic development.

For instance, we have abundant evidence to prove that,
even after articulate language had gained a firm footing,
there was no distinction between the nominative and genitive
cases of substantives, nor between these and adjectives, nor
even between any words as subject-words and predicate-
words. All these three grammatical relations required to be
expressed in the same way, namel}', by a mere apposition
of the generalized terms themselves. In course of time, how-
ever, these three grammatical differentiations were effected
by conventional changes of position between the words
apposed, in some cases the form of predication being
A B, and that of attribution or possession B A, while in

GEXERAL SUMMARY AXD COXCLUDIXG REMARKS. 423

Other branches of language-growth the reverse order has
obtained. Eventually, however, " these primitive contrivances
for distinguishing between the predicate, the attribute, and
the genitive, when the three ideas had in course of ages been
evolved by the mind of the speaker, gradually gave way to
the later and more refined machinery of suffixes, auxiliaries,
and the like." *

And so it is with all the other so-called " parts of speech,"
in those languages which, in having passed beyond the
primitive stage, have developed parts of speech at all.
" These are the very broadest outlines of the process by which
conceptual roots were predicated, by which they came under
the sway of the categories — became substantives, adjectives,
adverbs, and verbs, or by whatever other names the results
thus obtained may be described. The minute details of this
process, and the marvellous results obtained by it, can be
studied in the grammar of every language or family of
languages." t Thus, philology is able to trace back, stage
by stage, the form of predication as it occurs in the most
highly developed, or inflective language, to that earliest
stage of language in general, which I have called the in-
dicative.

Many other authorities having been quoted in support of
these general statements, and also for the purpose of tracing
the evolution of predicative utterance in more detail, I
proceeded to give illustrations of different phases of its
development in the still existing languages of savages ; and
thus proved that they, no less than primitive man, are unable
to " supply the blank form of a judgment," or to furnish what
my opponents regard as the criterion of human faculty.
Therefore, the only policy which can possibly remain for
these opponents to take up, is that of abandoning their
Aristotelian position : no longer to take their stand upon
the grounds of \i\xxc\y formal predication as this happens to
have been developed in the Indo-European branch of lan-
guage ; but altogether upon those of material predication, or,

* S.iycc. t Max Miilkr.

424 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

as I may say, upon the meaning or substance of a judgment,
as distinguished from its grammar or accidents.

In other words, it may possibly still be argued that,
although the issue is now thrown back from the "blank-
form " of predication on which my opponents have hitherto
relied, to the hard fact of predication itself, this hard fact still
remains. Even though I have shown that in the absence of
any parts of speech predication requires to be conducted in a
most inefficient manner ; still, it may be said, predication is
conducted, and must be conducted — for assuredly it is only in
order to conduct it that speech can ever have existed at all.

Now, I showed that if my opponents do not adopt this
change of position, their argument is at an end. For I proved
that, after all the foregoing evidence, there is no longer any
possibility of question touching the continuity of growth
between the predicative germ in a sentence-word, and the
fully evolved structure of a formal proposition. But, on the
other hand, I next showed that this change of position, even
if it were made, could be of no avail. For, if the term
"predication" be thus extended to a "sentence- word," it
thereby becomes deprived of that distinctive meaning upon
which alone the whole argument of my adversaries is reared :
it is conceded that no distinction obtains between speaking
and pointing : the predicative phase of language has been
identified with the indicative : man and brute are acknow-
ledged to be " brothers." That is to say, if it be maintained
that the indicative signs of the infant child or the primitive
man are predicative, no shadow of a reason can be assigned
for withholding this designation from the indicative signs of
the lower animals. On the other hand, if this term be denied
to both, its application to the case of spoken language in its
fully evolved form must be understood to signify but a
difference of phase or degree, seeing that the one order of
sign-making has been now so completely proved to be but
the genetic and improved descendant of the other. In short,
the truth obviously is that we have a proved contimiity of
development betiveen all stages of the sign-making facility ; and,

GENERAL SUMMARY AND CONCLUDIXG REMARKS. 425

therefore, that any attempt to draw between one and another
of them a distinction of kind has been shown to be impossible.

The conclusions thus reached at the close of Chapter XIV.
with regard to the philology of predication were greatly
strengthened by additional facts which were immediately
adduced in the next Chapter with regard to the philology of
conception. Here the object was to throw the independent
light of philology upon a point which had already been
considered as a matter of psychology, namely, the passage of
receptual denotation into conceptual denomination. This is
a point which had previously been considered only with
reference to the individual : it had now to be considered with
reference to the race.

First it was shown that, owing to the young child being
surrounded by an already constructed grammar of predicative
forms, the earlier phases in the evolution of speech are greatly
foreshortened in the ontogeny of mankind, as compared with
what the study of language shows them to have been in the
phylogeny. Gesture-signs are rapidly starved out when a
child of to-day first begins to speak, and so to learn the use
of grammatical forms. But early man was under the necessity
of elaborating his grammar out of his gesture-signs — and this
at the same time as he was also coining his sentence-words.
Therefore, while the acquisition of names and forms of speech
by infantile man must have depended in chief part upon
gestures and grimace, this acquisition by the infantile child is
actively inimical to both.

Next we saw that the philological doctrine of " sentence-
words " threw considerable additional light on my psycho-
logical distinction between ideas as general and generic.
For a sentence-word is the expression of an idea hitherto
generalized, that is to say undifferentiated. Such an idea, as
we now know, stands at the antipodes of thought from one
which is due to what is called a generalisation — that is to sa\-,
a conceptual synthesis of the results of a previous anal3-sis.
And the doctrine of sentence-words recognizes an immense
historical interval (corresponding with the innncnse ps)-cho-

426 ME XT A L EVOLUTION EV MAX.

logical interval) between the generic and the general orders
of ideation.

Again, we saw that in all essential particulars the semiotic
construction of this the most primitive mode of articulate
communication which has been preserved in the archeology
of spoken language, bears a precise resemblance to that which
occurs in the natural language of gesture. As we saw,
" gesture-language has no grammar properly so called ; " and
we traced in considerable detail the analogies — so singularly
numerous and exact — between the forms of sentences as now
revealed in gesture and as they first emerged in the early
days of speech. In other words, the earliest record that
speech is able to yield as to the nature of its own origin,
clearly reveals to us this origin as emerging from the yet
more primitive language of tone and gesture. For this is the
only available explanation of their close family resemblance
in the matter of syntax.

Furthermore, we have seen that in gesture language, as
in the forms of primitive speech now preserved in roots, the
purposes of predication are largely furthered by the mere
apposition of denotative terms. A generalized term of this
kind (which as yet is neither noun, adjective, nor verb), when
brought into apposition with another of the same kind,
serves to convey an idea of relationship between them, or to
state something of the one by means of the other. Yet
apposition of this kind need betoken no truly conceptual
thought. As we have already seen, the laws of merely
sensuous association are sufficient to insure that when the
objects, qualities, or events, which the terms severally denote,
happen to occur together in Nature, they must be thus
brought into corresponding apposition by the mind : it is the
logic of events v/hich inevitably guides such pre-conceptual
utterance into a statement of the truth that is perceived : the
truth is received into the mind, not conceived by it. And it is
obvious how repeated statements of truth thus delivered in
receptual ideation, lead onwards to conceptual ideation, or to
statements of truth as true.

GENERAL SmniARY AXD CONCLUDIXG REMARKS. 427

Now, if all this has been the case, it is obvious that
aboriginal words can have referred only to matters of
purely receptual significance — i.e. "to those physical acts and
qualities which are directly apprehensible by the senses."
Accordingly, we find in all the earliest root-words, which the
science of philology has unearthed, unquestionable and
unquestioned evidence of "fundamental metaphor," or of a
conceptual extension of terms which were previously of no
more than receptual significance. Indeed, as Professor
Whitney says, " so pervading is it, that we never regard our-
selves as having read the history of any intellectual or moral
term till we have traced it back to its physical origin."
Without repeating all that I have so recently said upon this
matter, it will be enough once more to insist on the general
conclusions to which it led — namely, psychological analysis
has already shown us the psychological priority of the recept ;
and now philological research most strikingly corroborates
this analysis by actually finding the recept in the body of
every concept.

Lastly, I took a brief survey of the languages now spoken
by many widely separated races of savages, in order to show
the extreme deficiency of conceptual ideation that is thus
represented. In the result, we saw that what Archdeacon
Farrar calls " the hopeless poverty of the power of abstrac-
tion " is so surprising, that the most ardent evolutionist could
not well have desired a more significant intermediary between
the pre-conceptual intelligence of Homo alaliis, and the con-
ceptual thought of Homo sapiens.

Having thus concluded the Philology of our subject, I
proceeded, in the last chapter, to consider the probable
steps of the transition from receptual to conceptual ideation
in the race.

First I dealt with a view which has been put forward on
this matter by certain German philologists, to tlie effect that
speech originated in wholly meaningless sounds, which in the
first instance were due to merely physiological conditions.

4-^ MEXTAL EVOLUTIOy LV MAX.

By repeated association with the circumstances under which
they were uttered, these articulate sounds are supposed to
have acquired, as it were automatically, a semiotic value.
The answer to this hypothesis, however, evidently is, that
it ignores the whole problem which stands to be solved —
namely, the genesis of those powers of ideation which first
put a soul of meaning into the previously insignificant sounds.
That is to say, it begs the whole question which stands for
solution, and, therefore, furnishes no explanation whatsoever
of the difference which has arisen between man and brute.
Nevertheless, the principles set forth in this the largest
possible extension of the so-called interjectional theory, are,
I believe, sound enough in themselves : it is only the premiss
from which in this instance they start that is untrue. This
premiss is that aboriginal man presented no rudiments of the
sign-making faculty, and, therefore, that this faculty itself
required to be created de novo by accidental associations of
sounds with things. But we have seen, as a matter of fact,
that this must have been very far from having been the case ;
and, therefore, while recognizing such elements of truth as
the "purely physiological" hypothesis in question presents,
I rejected it as in itself not even approaching a full explana-
tion of the origin of speech.

Next I dealt with the hypothesis that was briefly sketched
by Mr. Darwin. Premising, as Geiger points out, that the
presumably superior sense of sight, by fastening attention
upon the movements of the mouth in vocal sign-making,
must have given our semian ancestry an advantage over
other species of quadrumana in the matter of associating
sounds with receptual ideas ; we next endeavoured to imagine
an anthropoid ape, social in habits, sagacious in mind, and
accustomed to use its voice extensively as an organ of sign-
making, after the manner of social quadrumana in general.
Such an animal might w'ell have distanced all others in the
matter of making signs, and even proceeded far enough to
use sounds in association with gestures, as " sentence-words "
— i.e. as indicative of such highl}- generalized recepts as the

GEXERAL SUMMARY AXD COXCLUDIXG REMARKS. 429

presence of danger, &c., — even if it did not go the length of
making denotative sounds, after the manner of talking-birds.
Moreover, as Mr. Darwin has pointed out, there is a strong
probability that this simian ancestor of mankind was accus-
tomed to use its voice in musical cadences, " as do some of
the gibbon-apes at the present day ; " and this habit might
have laid the basis for that semiotic interruption of vocal
sounds in which consists the essence of articulation.

My own theory of the matter, however, is slightly different
to this. For, while accepting all that goes to constitute the
substance of Mr. Darwin's suggestion, I think it is almost
certain that the faculty of articulate sign-making was a
product of much later evolution, so that the creature who
first presented this faculty must have already been more
human than "ape-like." This Homo alahts stands before the
mind's eye as an almost brutal object, indeed ; )'ct still, erect
in attitude, shaping flints to serve as tools and weapons, living
in tribes or societies, and able in no small degree to com-
municate the logic of his recepts by means of gesture-signs,
facial expressions, and vocal tones. From such an origin,
the subsequent evolution of sign-making faculty in the
direction of articulate sounds would be an even more easy
matter to imagine than it was under the previous hypothesis.
Having traced the probable course of this evolution, as
inferred by the aid of sundry analogies ; and having dwelt
upon the remarkable significance in this connection of the
inarticulate sounds which still survive as so-called "clicks" in
the lowly-formed languages of Africa ; I went on to detail
sundry considerations which seemed to render probable the
prolonged existence of the imaginary being in question —
traced the presumable phases of his subsequent evolution,
and met the objection which might be raised on the score of
Homo alalns being Homo postnlatus.

In conclusion, however, I pointed out that whatever
might be the trutli as touching the time when the faculty of
articulation arose, the course of mental evolution, after it did
arise, must have been the same. Without again repeating

430 MENTAL EVOLUriOX IN MAN.

the sketch which I gave of what this course must have been,
it will be enough to say, in the most general terms, that
I believe it began with sentence-words in association with
gesture-signs ; that these acted and reacted on one another
to the higher elaboration of both ; that denotative names, for
the most part of onomatopoetic origin, rapidly underwent
connotative extensions ; that from being often and necessarily
used in apposition, nascent predications arose ; that these
gave origin, in later times, to the grammatical distinctions
between adjectives and genitive cases on the one hand, and
predicative words on the other ; that likewise gesture-signs
were largely concerned in the origin of other grammatical
forms, especially of pronominal elements, many of which
afterwards went to constitute the material out of which the
forms of declension and conjugation were developed ; but
that although pronouns were thus among the earliest words
which were differentiated by mankind as separate parts of
speech, it was not until late in the day that any pronouns
were used especially indicative of the first person. The sig-
nificance of this latter fact was shown to be highly important.
We have already seen that the whole distinction between
man and brute resides in the presence or absence of con-
ceptual thought, which, in turn, is but an expression of the
presence or absence of self-consciousness. Consequently,
the whole of this treatise has been concerned with the
question whether we have here to do with a distinction of
kind or of degree — of origin or of development. In the case
of the individual, there can be no doubt that it is a distinction
of degree, or development ; and I had previously shown that
in this case the phase of development in question is marked
by a change of phraseology — a discarding of objective terms
for the adoption of subjective when the speaker has occasion
to speak of self. And now I showed that in the fact here
before us we have a precisely analogous proof: in exactly
the same way as psychology marks for us " the transition in
the individual," philology marks for us " the transition in
the race."

GENERAL SUMMARY AXD COXCLUDIXG REMARKS. 43 1

In the foregoing' resume of the present instalment of my
■work I have aimed only at giving an outline sketch of the main
features. And even these main features have been so much
abbreviated that it is questionable whether more harm than
good will not have been done to my argument by so imperfect
a summary of it. Nevertheless, as a general result, I think that
two things must now have been rendered apparent to every
impartial mind. First, that the opponents of evolution have
conspicuously failed to discharge their onus probandi, or to
justify the allegation that the human mind constitutes a great
and unique exception to the otherwise uniform law of evolution.
Second, that not only is this allegation highly improbable
a priori, and incapable of proof a posteriori, but that all the
evidence that can possibly be held to bear upon the subject
makes directly on the side of its disproof The only semblance
of an argument to be adduced in its favour rests upon the
distinction between ideation as conceptual and non-conceptual.
That such a distinction exists I freely admit ; but that it is
a distinction of kind I emphatically deny. For I have shown
that the comparatively few writers who still continue to regard
it as such, found their arguments on a psychological analysis
which is of a demonstrably imperfect character ; that no one
of them has ever paid any attention at all to the actual process
of psychogenesis as this occurs in a growing child ; and that,
with the exception of Professor ]\Iax Mullcr, the same has to
be said with regard to their attitude towards the " witness of
philology." Touching the psychogenesis of a child, I have
shown that there is unquestionable demonstration of a gradual
and uninterrupted passage from the one order of ideation to the
other ; that so long as the child's intelligence is moving only
in the non-conceptual sphere, it is not distinguishable in any
one feature of psychological import from the intelligence of
the higher mammalia ; that when it begins to assume the
attributes of conceptual ideation, the process depends on the
development of true self-consciousness out of the materials
supplied by that form of pre-existing or receptual self-con-
sciousness \\hich the infant share? with the lower animals ;

432 ME XT A L EVOLUTIOX IN MAX.

that the condition to this advance in nnental evolution is given
by a perceptibly progressive development of those powers of
denotative and connotative utterance which are found as far
down in the psychological scale as the talking birds ; that in
the growing intelligence of a child we have thus as complete
a history of " ontogeny," in its relation to " phylogcny," as
that upon which the embryologist is accustomed to rely when
he reads the morphological history of a species in the epitome
which is furnished by the development of an individual ; and,
therefore, that those are without excuse who, elsewhere
adopting the principles of evolution, have gratuitously ignored
the direct evidence of psychological transmutation which is
thus furnished by the life-history of every individual human
being.

Again, as regards the independent witness of philology,
if we were to rely on authority alone, the halting and often
contradictory opinions which from time to time have been
expressed by Professor Max Muller with reference to our
subject, are greatly outAveighed by those of all his brother
philologists. But, without in any way appealing to authority
further than to accept matters of fact on which all philo-
logists are agreed, I have purposely given Professor Max
Muller an even more representative place than any of the
others, fully stated the nature of his objections, and sup-
plied what appears to me abundantly sufficient answers.
So far as I can understand the reasons of his dissent
from conclusions which his own admirable work has materi-
ally helped to support, they appear to arise from the
following grounds. First, a want of clearness with regard
to the principles of evolution in general : * second, a failure

* See especially Science of TJioug/it, chaps, ii. and iv. The following
quotations may suffice to justify this statement. " If once a genus has been rightly
recognized as such, it seems to me self-contradictory to admit that it could ever
give rise to another genus. . . . Once a sheep always a sheep, once an ape always
an ape, once a man always a man. . . . What seems to me simply irrational is
to look for a fossil ape as the father of a fossil man. . . . Why should it be the
settled or ready-made Pithecanthropus who became the father of the first man,
though everywhere else in nature what has once become settled remains settled,

GENERAL SUMMARY A.VD COXCLUDIXG REMARK'S. 433

clearly or constantly to recognize that the roots of Aryan
speech are demonstrably very far from primitive in the
sense of being aboriginal : third, a want of discrimination
between ideas as general and generic, or synthetic and
unanalytical : fourth, the gratuitous and demonstrably false
assumption that in order to name a mind must first conceive.
Of these several grounds from which his dissent appears to
spring, the last is perhaps the most important, seeing that
it is the one upon which he most expressly rears his
objections. But if I have proved anything, I have proved
that there is a power of affixing verbal or other signs as
marks of merely receptual associations, and that this power
is invariably antecedent to the origin of conceptual utterance
in the only case where this origin admits of being directly
observed — i.e., in the psychogenesis of a child. Again, in
the case of pre-historic man, so far as the palaeontology of
speech furnishes evidence upon the subject, this makes
altogether in favour of the view that in the race, as in the
individual, denotation preceded denomination, as antecedent
and consequent. Nay, I doubt whether Max Mijller him-
self would disagree with Gcigcr where the latter tersely says,
in a passage hitherto unquoted, "Why is it that the further
we trace words backwards the less meaning do they pre-
sent? I know not of any other answer to be given than that
the further they go back the less conceptuality do they
betoken." * Nor can he refuse to admit, with the same

or, if it varies, it varies within definite limits only? (pp. 212-215). • • • Ifthegerm
of a man never develops into an ape, nor the germ of an ape into a man, why
should the full-grown ape have developed into a man ? (p. 117). . . . Let us now
see what Darwin himself has to say in support of his opinion that man does not
date from the same period which marks the beginning of organic life on earth —
that he has not an ancestor of his own, like the other great families of living beings,
but that he had to wait till the mammals had reached a high degree of dcvclopmcnl,
and that he then stepped into the world as the young or as the child of an ape "
(p. 160), &c., &c. So far as can be gathered from these, and other statements to
the same effect, it does not appear that Professor Max Miiller can ever have quite
understood the tlieory of evolution, even in its application to jilants and animals.
For these are not criticisms upon that theory : they arc failures to appreciate in
what it is that the theory itself consists.
* Urspniir.; der Spradie, s. 84.

2 F

434 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN.

authority, that " conceptual thought {Bcgriff) allows itself to
be traced backwards into an ever narrowing circle, and
inevitably tends to a point where there is no longer cither
thought or speech," * But if these things cannot be denied
by Max Mliller himself, I am at a loss to understand why
he should part company \\\t\\ other philologists with regard
to the origin of conceptual terms. With them he asserts
that there can be no concepts without words (spoken or
otherwise), and with them he maintains that when the
meanings of w^ords are traced back as far as philology can
trace them, they obviously tend to the vanishing point of
which Geiger speaks. Yet, merely on the ground that this
vanishing point can never be actually reached by the
investigations of philology — i.e., that words cannot record
the history of their own birth, — he stands out for an
interruption of the principle of continuity at the place where
words originate. A position so unsatisfactory I can only
explain by supposing that he has unconsciously fallen into
the fallacy of concluding that because all A is B, therefore
all B is A. Finding that there can be no concepts without
names, he concludes that there can be no names without
concepts.! And on the basis of such a conclusion he
naturally finds it impossible to explain how either names or
concepts could have had priority in time: both, it seems, must
have been of contemporaneous origin ; and, if this were so,

* Ursprwig der Sprache, s. 1 19.

t It would be no answer to say that by " names " he means only signs of ideas
which present a conceptual value — or, in other words, that he would refuse to
recognize as a name what I have called a denotative sign. For the question here
is not one of terminology, but of psychology. I care not by what terms we
designate lhe>e different sorts of signs ; the question is whether or not they differ
from one another in kind. If the term " name " is expressly reserved for signs of
conceptual origin, it would be no argument, upon the basis of this definition, to
say that there cannot be names without concepts ; for, in terms of the defini-
tion, this would merely be to enunciate a truism : it would be merely to say that
without concepts there can be no concepts, nor, a fortiori, the signs of them. In
short, the issue is by no means one as to a definition of terms ; it is the plain
question whether or not a non-conceptual sign is the precursor of a conceptual
one. And this is the question which I cannot find that Max Miiller has adequately
faced .

GENERAL SUMMARY AXD COXCLUDING REMARKS. 435

it is manifestly impossible to account for the natural genesis
of either. But the whole of this trouble is imaginary.
Once discard the plainly illogical inference tiiat because
names are necessary to concepts, therefore concepts are
necessary to names, and the difficulty is at an end. Now,
I have proved, ad nauseam, that there are names and namics :
names denotative, and names denominative; names receptual,
as well as names conceptual. Even if we had not had the
case of the growing child actually to prove the process — a case
which he, in common with all my other opponents, in this con-
nexion ignores, — on general grounds alone, and especially
from our observations on the lower animals, we might have
been practically certain that the faculty of sign-making
must have preceded that of tJiinking the signs. And
whether these pre-conceptual signs were made by gesture,
grimace, intonation, articulation, or all combined, clearly no
difference would arise so far as any question of their
influence on psychogenesis is concerned. As a matter of
fact, we happen to know that the semiotic artifice of
articulating vocal tones for purposes of denotation, dates
back so far as to bring us within philologically measur-
able distance of the origin of denomination, or conceptual
thought — although we have seen good reason to conclude
that before that time tone, gesture, and grimace must have
been much more extensively employed in sign-making by
aboriginal man than they now are by any of the lower
animals. So that, upon the whole, unless it can be shown
that my distinction between denotation and denomination
is untenable — unless, for instance, it can be shown that an
infant requires to think of names as such before it can learn
to utter them, — then I submit that no shadow of a difficulty
lies against the theory of evolution in the domain of philology.
While, on the other hand, all the special facts as well as all
the general principles hitherto revealed by this science make
entirely for the conclusion, that pre-concej)tual denotation
laid the psychological conditions which were necessary for
the subsequent growth of conceptual denomination ; ami,

436 MENTAL EVOLUTION IN MAN

therefore, yet once again to quote the high authority of
Geiger, " Speech created Reason ; before its advent mankind
was reasonless." *

And if this is true of philology, assuredly it is no less true
of psychology. P'or " the development of speech is only a copy
of that chain of processes, which began with the dawn of
[human] consciousness, and eventually ends in the construction
of the most abstract idea." f Unless, therefore, it can be shown
that my distinction between ideation as receptual and con-
ceptual is invalid, I know not how my opponents are to meet
the results of the foregoing analysis. Yet, if this distinction
should be denied, not only would they require to construct the
science of psychology anew ; they would place themselves in
the curious position of repudiating the very distinction on
which their whole argument is founded. For I have every-
where been careful to place it beyond question that what I
have called receptual ideation, in all its degrees, is identical
with that which is recognized by my opponents as non-con-
ceptual ; and as carefully have I everywhere shown that with
them I fully recognize the psychological difference between
this order of ideation and that which is conceptual. The
only point in dispute, therefore, is as to the possibility of a
natural transition from the one to the other. It is for them
to show the impossibility. This they have hitherto most
conspicuously failed to do. On the other hand, I now
claim to have established the possibility beyond the reach
of a reasonable question. For I claim to have shown
that the probability of such a transition having previously
occurred in the race, as it now occurs in every individual,
is a probability that has been raised tower-like by the ac-
cumulated knowledge of the nineteenth century. Or, to
vary the metaphor, this probability has been as a torrent,
gaining in strength and volume as it is successively fed by

* Ursprung dcT Sprache, s. 91. The exact words are, "Die Sprache hat die
Vernunft erschaffen : vor ihr war der Mensch vernunftlos." It is needless to
observe that the word which I liave rendered by its English equivalent " Reason "
is here used in the sense of conceptual thought.

t Wundt, Vorksiatgtn, &rc., ii. 2S2.

GENERAL SUMMARY AXD COXCLUDIXG REMARKS. 437

facts and principles poured into it by the advance of many
sciences.

Of course it is always easy to withhold assent from a
probability, however strong: " My belief," it may be said, "is
not to be wooed ; it shall only be compelled." Indeed, a man
may even pride himself on the severity of his requirements in
this respect ; and in popular writings we often find it taken
for granted that any scientific doctrine is then only entitled
to be regarded as scientific when it has been demonstrated.
But in science, as in other things, belief ought to be pro-
portionate to evidence ; and although for this very reason we
should ever strive for the attainment of better evidence,
scientific caution of such a kind must not be confused with a
merely ignorant demand for impossible evidence. Actually to
demonstrate the transition from non-conceptual to conceptual
ideation in the race, as it is every day demonstrated in the
individual, would plainly require the impossible condition
that conceptual thought should have observed its own origin.
To demand any demonstrative proof of the transition in the
race would therefore be antecedently absurd. But if, as
Bishop Butler says, " probability is the very guide of life,"
assuredly no less is it the very guide of science ; and here, I
submit, we are in the presence of a probability so irresistible
that to w^ithhold from it the embrace of conviction would be
no longer indicative of scientific caution, but of scientific
incapacity. For if, as I am assuming, we already accept the
theory of evolution as applicable throughout the length and
breadth of the realm organic, it appears to me that we have
positively better reasons for accepting it as applicable to the
length and breadth of the realm mental. In other words,
looking to all that has now been said, I cannot help feeling
that there is actually better evidence of a psychological
transition from the brute to the man, than there is of a
morphological transition from one organic form to anotliLM", in
any of the still numerous instances where the intermediate
links do not happen to have been preserved. Thus, for
example, in my opinion an evolutionist of to-day who seeks to

438 MENTAL EVOLUTION LV MAN.

constitute the human mind a great exception to the otherwise
uniform principle of genetic continuity, has an even more
hopeless case than he would have were he to argue that a
similar exception ought to be made with regard to the
structure of the worm-like creature Balanoglossus.

If this comparison should appear to betray any extra-
vagant estimate on my part of the cogency of the evidence
which has thus far been presented, I will now in conclusion
ask it to be remembered that my case is not yet concluded.
For hitherto I have almost entirely abstained from consider-
ing the mental condition of savages. The reason why this
important branch of my subject has not been touched is
because I reserve it for the next instalment of my work.
But when we leave the groundwork of psychological principles
on which up to this point we have been engaged, and advance
to the wider field of anthropological research in general, we
shall find much additional evidence of a more concrete kind,
which almost uniformly tends to substantiate the conclusions
already gained. The corroboration thus afforded is indeed, to
my thinking, superfluous; and, therefore, will not be adduced
in this connection. Nevertheless, while tracing the principles
of mental evolution from the lowest levels which are actually
occupied by existing man, we shall find that no small light is
incidentally thrown upon the demonstrably still more primitive
intelligence of pre-historic man. Thus shall we find that we
are led back by continuous stages to a state of still human
ideation, which brings us into contact almost painfully close
with that of the higher apes. This, indeed, is a side of the
general question which my opponents are prone to ignore —
just as they ignore the parallel side which has to do with the
psychogenesis of a child. And, of course, when they thus
ignore both the child and the savage, so as directly to con-
trast the adult psychology of civilized man with that of the
lower animals, it is easy to show an enormous difference.
But where the question is as to whether this is a difference of
degree or of kind, the absurdity of disregarding the inter-
mediate phases which present themselves to actual observation

GENEkAL SUMMARY AXD COXCLUDING REMARKS. 439

is surely too obvious for comment. At all events I think it
may be safely promised, that when we come to consider the
case of savages, and through them the case of pre historic man,
we shall find that, in the great interval which lies between
such grades of mental evolution and our own, we arc brought
far on the wa)- towards bridging the psychological distance
M hich separates the gorilla from the gentleman.

INDEX

Abstraction. See Ideas

Addison, Mrs. K., on sign-making by a
jackdaw, 97

Adjectives, appropriately used by parrots,
129, 130, 152 ; early use of, by children,
219; not differentiated in early forms
of speech, 295 et seq. ; origin of Aryan,
306, and in language generally, 385-86.

Adverbs not differentiated in early forms
of speech, 306

African Bushmen. See Hottentots

African languages. See Languages

Agglomerative. See Languages

Agglutinating. See Languages

American languages. See Languages

Analytic. See Languages

Anatomy, evidence of man's descent sup-
plied by, 19

Animals. See Brutes

Animism of primitive man, 275

Ants, intelligence of, 52, 53 ; sign-making
by, 91-95

Apes, brain-weight of, 16 ; bodily struc-
ture of, 19; counting by, 58, 215;
understanding of words by, 125, 126 ;
unable to imitate articulate sounds,
153-157 ; psychological characters of
anthropoid, in relation to the descent of
man, 364-370 ; singing, 370, 373-378 ;
oilier vocal sounds made by, 374 ; erect
attitude assumed by, 381, 382

Apjjleyard on language of savages, 349

Apposition. See Predication

Aristotle, on intelligence of brutes, 12,
and of man, 20 ; his classification of
the animal kingdom, 79 ; his logic based
on grammar of the Greek language,
314, 320

Articulation, chap. vii. ; classification of
diflerent kinds of, 121 ; meaningless,
121, 122; understanding of, 122-129 ;
by dogs, 128 ; use of, with intelligent
signification by talking birds, 129-139 ;
arbitrary use of, by young cliildren,
138-144; relation of, to tone and
gesture, 145-162 ; importance of sense
of sight to development of, 366, 367 ;
probable period and mode of genesis of
in the race, 370-373

Aryan languages. See Languages

Aryan race, civilization of, 272 ; antiquity
of, 273

Audoiiin on a monkey recognizing pic-
torial representations, 188

Axe, discovery of, by neolithic man, 214

Barter only used by man, 19
Basque language. See Language
Bateman, Dr. F., on speech-centre of

brain, 134, 135
Bates, on intelligence of ants, 92, 93 ;

on a monkey recognizing iiiclorial re-

l)icsentati(jns, 188,
Bats the only mammals cai)abie of llight,

156

44^

INDEX.

Bear, intelligence of, 51 ; understanding
tones of human voice, 124

Beattie, Dr., on intelligence of a dog, 100

Bees, sign-making by, 90

15ell, Professor A. Graham, on teaching a
dog to articulate, 128 ; on the ideation
of deaf-mutes, 150

Belt on intelligence of ants, 52, 92

Benfrey on roots of Sanskrit, 267

Berkeley on ideas, 21, 22

Binet on analogies between perception
and reason, 32, and sensation, 37, 46

Bingley on bees understanding tones of
human voice, 124

Bleek, on origin of pronouns, 302 ; on
the sentence-wordsof African Bushmen,
316, 337, 338 ; on onomatopoeia, 339 ;
on the clicks of Hottentots and African
Bushmen, 373

Bonaparte, Prince Lucien, on possible
number of articulate sounds, 373

Bopp on the origin of speech, 240

Bowen, Professor F., on psychology' of
judgment, 167

Boyd Dawkins, Professor, on discovery
of axe by neolithic man, 214

Bramston, Miss, on intelligence of a dog,
56

Brazil, climate and native languages of,
262, 263

Brown, Thomas, on generalization, 44

Browning, A. H., on intelligence of a
dog, 99, 100

Brutes, mind of, compared with human,
6-39 ; emotions of, 7 ; instincts of, 8 ;
volition of, 8 ; intellect of, 9 ; Mr.
Mivart on psychology of, lo, 177; as
machines, 11 ; rationality of, 11, 12;
soul of, 12 ; Bishop Butler on immor-
tality of, 12 ; instances of intelligence
of, 51-63 ; ideasof causality in, 58-60 ;
appreciation of principles by, 60, 61 ;
sign-making by, 88-102 ; understand-
ing of words by, 123-127; articulation
by, 128-138, 152 ; reasons why none
have become intellectual rivals of man,
154-157 ; self-consciousness in relation
to, 175-178 ; recognizing pictorial re-
presentations, iSS, 189 ; conditions to

genesis of self-consciousness manifested
by, 195-199; counting by, 56-58, 214,
215 ; psychology of, in relation to the
descent of man, 364-384
Bufifon, on intelligence of brutes, 12, I17 ;

his parrot, 201
Bunsen, on onomatopoeia, 282 ; on Egyp-
tian language, 297, 298 ; on the sub-
stantive verb, 309
Burton on sign-making by Indians, 105
Bushmen, clicks in the language of, 291
Butler, Bishop, on immortality of brutes,

12

c

California, climate and native languages

of, 261, 262
Caldwell on language of savages, 349
Carlyle on fundamental metaphor, 344
Carpenter, Commander Alfred, on mon-
keys using stones to open oysters,

382
Casalis on poverty of savage languages

in abstract terms, 351
Cat, intelligence of, 59, 98, 99 ; use of

signs by, 158
Caterpillars, sign-making by, 95, 96
Causation, ideas of, in brutes, 58-60 ;

origin of idea of, in man, 210
Cebus, intelligence of, 60, 61 ; different

tones uttered by, 96
ChampoUion on Egyptian hieroglyphics,

3"

Charlevoix on language of savages, 349

Cheyenne language. See Languages
Child, psychogenesis of, 4, 5 ; emotions
and instincts of, 7, 8 ; intelligence of,
as regards classification, 26, 27, 41, 66,
67 ; instinctive and imitative articula-
tion by, 121, 122 ; understanding of
words by infantile, 123 ; spontaneous
invention of words by, 138-143 ; in-
dicative stage of language in, 158, 218-
222, 324 ; denotation and connotation
of, 179, 191, 218-231, 283-285 ; recog-
nizing portraits, &c., 188, 189; rise of
self-consciousness in, 200-212; use of

lA'DEX.

443

personal pronoun by, 201, 232, 408,
409 ; hypothesis of languages having
been originated by, 259-263 ; undiffer-
entiated language of, 296, 297, 317 ;
stages of language in, 157-193, "328 ;
differences between infantile and primi-
tive man, as regards development of
speech, 329-334 ; order of development
of articulate sounds in, 372, 373

Cicero on the origin of speech, 240

Chimpanzee. See Apes

Chinese language. See Language

Classification, in relation to abstraction,
31, 32 ; powers of, exhibited by a young
child, 26, 66, 67 ; by lower animals
generally, 27-30 [see also under Pre-
cepts) ; of ideas, 34-39, 193 ; concep-
tual, 78-80, 174; of the animal king-
dom by the early Jews and by Aris-
totle, 78, 79 ; of language, 85-89 ; of
mental faculties artificial, 234 ; of lan-
guages, 245-251

Clicks of Hottentots, 291

Clothes only worn by man, 19

Communication. See Language

Complex ideas. See Ideas

Compound ideas. See Ideas

Comte, Auguste, on the logic of feelings
and of signs, 42, 46, 47

Conception. See Concepts

Concepts, defined, 34 ; logic of, 47, and
chap. iv. ; as named recepts, 74, 75 ;
as higher and lower, 76, 185 ; in rela-
tion to particular and generic ideas,
76-78 ; in relation to judgment and self-
consciousness, 168-191 ; Max Mliller's
alleged, 221 ; in relation to non-con-
ceptual faculties, 234-237 ; attainment
of, by the individual, 230-232 ; origi-
nal, 269-281 ; philological proof of
derivation of, from recepts, 343-349

Concrete ideas. See Ideas

Connotation, 88, 89, 136, 137, 157, 159-
162, 169, 170, 179-184, 218, 219, 283,
284, 294 et seq., 368, 383, 384

Conscience. See Morality

Coptic language. See Language

Copula, the, 172, 173, 230, 309, 314,
387

Counting, by rooks, 56, 57, 214, 215 ;
by an ape, 58, 215 ; by sensuous com-
putation and by separate notation, 57,
215 ; by savages, 215

Crawford on Malay language, 351

Cronise on the climate of California, 261

Crows, intelligence of, 56, 57

Cuvier on speech as the most distinctive
characteristic of man, 371

D

Dammaras, counting by, 215

Darwin, Charles, on intelligence of savage
man in relation to his cerebral develop-
ment, 16, 17 ; on intelligence of ani-
mals, 51, 52, 54; on pointing of sport-
ing dogs, 97 ; on expression of emotions,
103 ; on psychogenesis of child, 123,
158; on self-consciousness, 199; on
descent of man, 369, 370, 374-376,
380

Dayak language. See Language

Deaf-mutes, sign-making by, 105-120 ;
ideation of, 149, 150, 339-341 ; in-
vention of articulate signs by, 122, 263,

367
De Fraviere on sign-making by bees, 90
Demonstrative elements. See Pronouns
Denomination, 88, 89, 161, 162, 168-170,

294, et seq.
Denotation, 88, 89, 157, 158, 159, 162,
168, 179-184, 218, 219, 294 et seq.,
368-369, 383, 384, 386
De Quatrefages, on distinctions between
animal and human intelligence, 17-19'.
on intelligence of a dog, 198 ; on
poverty of savage languages in abstract
terms, 351
Dog, seeking water in hollows, 51 ;
making allowance for driftway, 52 ; ge-
neric ideas shown by, 54, 352 ; chasing
imaginary pigs, 56 ; idea of causa-
tion shown by, 59, 60; pointing and
backing of, 97, 98; other gesture signs
made by, 99, 100, 221 ; understanding
of written signs by, lOl, 102 ; umier-
standing of words by, 124, 125 ; alk-gnl

444

INDEX.

articulation l:)y, 12S; Indian sign for
harking, 146 ; recognizing pictorial re-
presentations, 188 ; practising conceal-
ment and hypocrisy, 198 ; ejective
ideation of, 198 ; receptual self-con-
sciousness of, 199; counting by, 215 ;
begging before a bitch, 221 ; deaf-
mute's articulate name of, 367

Donaldson on demonstrative elements,
244

Dublin Review on psychology of judg-
ment, 166, 167

Dumas, Alex., on sign-making, iii

Du Ponceau on language of savages,
349, 351

Ecitons. See Ants

Egyptian language. See Language

Elephant, intelligence of, 98

Ellis on early English pronunciation, 373

Emerson on fundamental metaphor, 344

Emotions of man and brutes compared, 7

Empty words, 246

E77cyclopcEdia Britannica (1S57), on the

origin of speech, 240
English language. See Language
Etruscan language. See Language

Farrar, Archdeacon, on demonstrative
elements, 244 ; on invention of lan-
guages by children, 263 ; on roots of
language, 268, 358 ; on origin of the
verb, 275 ; on paucity of words in
vocabulary of English labourers, 280 ;
on onomatopoeia, 284-288, 290 ; on
objective phraseology of young children
and early man, 301 ; on the substan-
tive verb, 309 ; on fundamental meta-
phor, 344 ; on language of savages in
respect of abstraction, 350 ; on absence
of subjective peisonal pronouns in
early forms of speech, 421

Feejee language. See Language

Fire only made by man, 19

Fitzgerald, P. P., on self-consciousness,

212
Flight, capability of, in insects, reptiles,

birds, and mammals, 156, 157
Forbes, James, on intelligence of monkeys,

100
Fox, intelligence of, 55, 56
Frogs, understanding by, of tones of

human voice, 124

G

Gallon, I'^rancis, on ideas as generic
images, 23 ; on relation of thought to
speech, 83 ; on intelligence of Dam-
maras, 215

Garnett, on nature and analysis of the
verb, 275, 307, 309-312; on sentence-
words, 300 ; on primitive forms of
predication, 318 ; on fundamental meta-
phor, 344, 358 ; on absence of subjec-
tive cases of pronouns in early forms of
speech, 421

Geiger, on ideas, 45 ; on dependence of
thought upon language, 83 ; on under-
standing of w-ords by brutes, 127; on
roots of language, 268, 273, 336 ; on
distinction between ideas as general
and generic, 279 ; on increasing con-
ceptuality of terms with increase of
culture, 280 ; on the impossibility of
language having ever consisted exclu-
sively of general terms, 282 ; on Heyse's
theory of the origin of speech, 289 ; on
onomatopcjeia, 292 ; on the vanishing
point of language, 314, 354 ; on funda-
mental metaphor as illustrated by
names of tools, 345, 346, and words of
moral significance, 346, 347 ; on the
sense of sight in relation to the origin of
speech, 366, 367 ; on Homo alahis, 380

General ideas. See Ideas

Generalization. See Ideas

Generic ideas. See Recepts

Genitive case, philology of, 305, 385

Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire, Isid., on a mon-
key recognizing pictorial represaita-
tions, 188

INDEX.

445

Geology, imperfect record of, 19

Gesture. See Language

Gibbon. See Apes

Goethe on obliteration of original mean-
ings of words, 2S4

Goodbehere, S., on sign-making by a
pony, 97

Gorilla. Sec Apes

Greek. See Language

Green, Professor, on self-consciousness,
212

Grimace. See Language

Grimm, on the origin of speech, 240 ;
on names for thunder, 2S6 ; on funda-
mental metaphor, 344

H

Haeckel, Professor, on Homo alaliis, 370,

380 ; on sounds made by apes, 374
Hague on sign-making by ants, 93, 94
Hale, Dr. H., on spontaneous invention
of words by children, 138-144; on the
origin of languages, 259-263
Hamilton, Sir William, on ideas as

abstract and general, 24, 25, 79, 80
Harper, F., on Greek tenses, 301
Haughton, Sir Graves, oa roots of lan-
guages, 275
Hebrew. See Language
Hegel, on absence in brutes of the idea
of causality, 58; on sclf-consc'ousness,
212
Heinieke on words spontaneously in-
vented by deaf-mutes, 367
Hen, dilTerent tones used by, as signs to

chickens, &c., 96
Herder, on the origin of speech, 240 ; on
the original concretism of language, 359
Herzen on self-consciousness, 212
Heyse, on onomatopoeia, 285, 287 ; on
the origin of speech, 289 ; on funda-
mental metaphor, 344 ; on poverty of
savage languages in abstract terms, 351
Hobbes on the copula, 172, 173
Hogg on a dog understanding words, 125
Holden on the vocabularies of children,
372, 373

Homo. See Man

Horace on the origin of speech, 240

Horse, sign-making by, 97

Hoste, Sir W., on intelligence of mon-
keys, lOI

Hottentots, language of, 291, 373, 374

Houzeau, on dogs seeking water in
hollows, 51 ; on tones used by the
common hen as signs, 96 ; on talking
birds, 129, 130 ; on danger signals of
birds, 369

Hovelacque, on demonstrative elements,
244 ; on auxiliary words, 247 ; on
formula; of language-structure, 248 ;
on affinities of languages, 250, 255 ;
on limitations of consonantal sounds
in various languages, 373

Huber on sign-making by insects, 88-90

Human. See Man

Humboldt on the origin of speech, 240

Hun, Dr. E. R., on spontaneous inven-
tion of words by young children,
140-143

Hungarian language. ^i;v Language

Huxley, Professor, on importance of the
evolution theory in relation to anthro-
pology, 2, 3 ; on animal automatism,
II ; on the brain-weight of man as
compared with that of antln-opoid
apes, 16 ; on ideas, 23, 43 ; on import-
ance of language to development of
human thought, 134 ; on smallness of
anatomical difference which deter-
mines or prevents power of articulation,
153) 370. 371 ; on psychology of judg-
ment, 164 ; on erect attitude assumed
by gibbon and gorilla, 381, 382

Icelandic language. See Language
Ideas, definition and classification of,
20-39 ; as recepts, chap. iii. ; as con-
cepts, chap. iv. ; as general and
generic, 38, 39, 68, 69, 276-281, 336,
337 ; as abstract, 20-39. 70-80 ; of
causation in brutes, 58-60, and in
man, 210; of uneducated dcaf-nnilcs,

446

INDEX.

149-15 1 ; psychological classification
of artificial, 234-237 ; of savages, 337,

338, 349-353

Idiots, psychology of, 104, 105 ; mean-
ingless and imitative articulation by,
121 ; ideation of, 152

Incorporating. See Languages

Indians, sign-making by, 105-113; lan-
guages of, 249, 255, 259, 260

Indicative phase of language. See Lan-
guage

Indicative signs, or stage of language.
See Language

Indo-European languages. See Languages

Infant. See Child

Inflectional. 6V,? Languages

Instinct, defined, 7 ; of man and brutes
compared, 7, 8

Intellect of man and brutes compared, 9

Introspection. See Self-consciousness

Isolating. See Languages

J

Jackdaw, sign-making by, 97
James on language of savages, 349
Javanese language. See Language
Johnson, Capt., on intelligence of mon-
keys, 100, lOI
Jones, Sir W., on the origin of speech,

240
Judgment, unconscious or intuitive, 48,
49, 189 ; J. S. Mill upon, 48 ; psy-
chology of, 163-237 ; G. H. Lewes
upon, 164 ; Professor Huxley upon,
164 ; St. G. Mivart upon, 165, 166 ;
Professor Max Midler upon, 165 ; in re-
lation to recepts, concepts, and thought,
163-193; Professor Sayce upon, 170 ;
pre-conceptual, 227-230, 278, 384,
386 ; blank form of, 166, 167, 319,
320

K

Khetshua language. See Language
Kleinpaul on gesture language, 120

Landois on sign-nial^ing by bees, go

Langley, S. P., on intelligence of a
spider, 62, 63

Language, in relation to brain-weight,
16 ; abstraction dependent on, 25, 30-
39 ; not always necessary to thought,
81-83 ; etymology and different signi-
fication of the word, 85 ; categories of,
85-89 ; as sign-making exhibited by
brutes, 88-102 ; of tone and gesture,
104 - 120 ; articulate, spontaneously
imitated by children, 138-143 ; of tone
and gesture in relation to words, 145-
162 ; stages of, as indicative, denota-
tive, connotative, denominative, and
predicative, 157-193 ; in relation to
self-consciousness, 212 ; growth of, in
child, 218-237 ; theories concerning
origin of, in race, 238-242, 361 -384 ;
evolution of, 240-245, 264, 265 ; roots
of, 241-245, 248, 249; differentiation
of, into parts of speech, 294-320, 339-
342 ; demonstrative elements of, 243-
245 ; of savages deficient in abstract
terms, 349-353 ; nursery, 365, 366 ;
Chinese, 246, 253, 256, 257, 265, 266,
298, 300, 317, 338, 373 ; Magyar, 253 ;
Turkish, 253; Basque, 258, 260, 311 ;
Etruscan, 258; Hungarian, 259 ; Malay,
259, 301, 305. 3". 351 ; Latin, 267 ;
Egyptian, 297, 298, 310, 311 ; English,
247, 259, 266, 338, 348, 373 ; Khetshua,
263 ; Hebrew, 266, 309 ; Greek, 301,
310, 320; Taic, 305; Sanskrit, 266-
277, 301, 309. 354; Zend, 309; Li-
thuanic, 309 ; Icelandic, 309 ; Coptic,
310 ; Javanese, 311 ; Malagassy, 311 ;
Philippine, 311 ; Syriac, 311 ; Dayak,
317; Feejee, 318; Cheyenne, 348;
Australian, 351 ; Eskimo, 351 ; Zulu,
351; Tasmanian, 352; Kurd, 352;
Japanese, 373 ; Hottentot, 373, 374

Languages, number of, 245 ; classifica-
tion of, 245-251 ; isolating, radical, or
monosyllabic, 245, 246, 267, 268 ; ag-
glutinative or agglomerative, 247 ; in-
flective or transpositive, 247, 248 ;

INDEX.

A\7

polysynthetic or incapsulating, 249 ;
incorporating, 245-250 ; analytic, 250 ;
affinities of, 250-259 ; native American,
249, 255, 259-263, 265, 311, 342, 348,
349. 351 ; African, 260, 263,291, 337,
?,3^^ 351. 373. 374; Aryan and Indo-
European, 266-278, 298, 304, 309, 314,
423; Semitic, 266, 311; Romance,
308; Polynesian, 318
Latham, Dr., on the growth of language,
241 ; on language of savages in respect
of abstraction, 351, 352
Latin, roots of, 267. See also Language
Laura Bridgman, her syntax, 116; her

instinctive articulate sounds, 122
Lazarus, on ideas, 44, 45 ; on origin of

speech, 361
Lee, Mrs., on talking birds, 130
Lefroy, Sir John, on intelligence of a dog,

99

Leibnitz on teaching a dog to articulate,

128
Leroy on intelligence of wolf, 53 ; of

stag, 54, 55 ; of fox, 55, 56 ; of rooks,

56, 57
Lewes, G. H., on the logic of feelings and

of signs, 47 ; on judgment, 164 ; on

pre-percepiion, 185
Links between ape and man missing, 19
Lithuanic language. See Language
Locke on ideas, 20-23, 28-30, 65, 342
Logic, of recepts, chap. iii. ; of concepts,

47, and chap. iv.
Long on gesture-language, 120
Lubbock, Sir John, on communication by

ants, 94, 95 ; on leaching a dog written

signs, loi, 102
Lucretius on the origin of speech, 240
Ludwig on deni(jnstrative elements, 244

M

Magyar language. See Language
Malagassy language. See Language
Malay language. See Language
Malle, Dureau de la, on intelligence of

brutes, 12
Mallery, Lieut. -Col., on sign-making by

Indi.ans an I deaf-mutes, &c., 105-112,
1 1 7-1 20 ; on teaching a d )g to articu-
late, 128 ; on sign for a barking dog,
146 ; on genetic relation between ges-
tures and words, 342, 348, 349

Man, antecedent remarks on psychology
of, 4-6 ; points of resemblance between
his psychology and that of brutes, 6-
10; points of difference, 10-39; intel-
ligence of savage, 13, 16, 17, 215, 337,
2>'i^i 349~353. ^'^d of palseolithic and
neolithic, 14, 213, 214 ; corporeal struc-
ture of, 19 ; animism of savage and
primitive, 275 ; speechless, 277 ; differ-
ences between infantile, and infantile
child as regards development of speech,
329-334 ; use of personal pronoun by
early, 300, 301, 387-3S9 ; hypotheses
as to mode of origin of, from brute, 361-
389 ; superior use by, of the sense of
sight, 366, 367 ; possibly speechless
condition of early, 370-379

Manuel, Dean, on ideas as general and
abstract, 42

Maudsley, Dr., on self-consciousness, 212

Maury on poverty of savage languages
in abstract terms, 351

M'Cook, Rev. Dr., on sign-making l)y
ants, 95

Metaphor, importance of, in evolution of
speech, 343-349

Meunier, on the understanding of words
by brutes, 125 ; on talking birds, 130

Midas, a, recognizing pictorial represen-
tations, 188

Mill, James, on the copula, 173

Mill, John Stuart, on ideas as abstract
and concrete, 25 ; on the logic of feel-
ings and of signs, 41, 42 ; on judgment,
48 ; on connotation and denomination,
169 ; on conception, 172 ; on the
copula, 173 ; on predication, 236

Milligan on poverty of savage languages
in abstract terms, 352

Mind, undergoes evolution, 4-6 ; of man
and brute compared, 7-39 ; classifica-
tion of faculties of artificial, 234

Missing links, 19

Mivart, St. George, on psychology of

44S

INDEX.

brutes, lo, 177 ; on animal automatism,
II; on superiority of savage mind to
simian, 16 ; on absence in brutes of the
idea of causality, 58 ; on relation of
thought to speech, S3 ; on categories
of language, 85, 86 ; on rationality of
brutes, 87 ; on psychology of judgment,
165-167 ; on thought and reflection,
177, 178

Mixed ideas. Sec Ideas

Moffat, R,, on invention of languages by
children, 263

Monboddo on the origin of speech, 240

Monkeys, general intelligence of, 60, 61,
100, lOl ; discovering mechanical prin-
ciples, 60, 61, 213, 214; more intelli-
gent and imitative than parrots, 153;
recognizing pictorial representations,
188; imderstanding words, 369 ; using
stones to open oysters, 382

Monosyllabic. Sec Languages

Morality, alleged to distinguish man from
brute, 17-19, 346; terms relating to,
derived from ideas morally indifferent,

346, 347
Morshead, E. J., on comparative psycho-
logy, 37
Moschkan, Dr. A., on talking birds, 130
Midler, F., on sign-making by bees, 90
Mil Her, J., on absence in brutes of the

idea of causality, 58
Miiller, Professor Friedrich, on ideas, 45 ;
on language, as not identical with
thought, 83 ; on classification of lan-
guages, 245 ; on sentence-words, 296 ;
on undifferentiated language of child,
297 ; on origin of pronouns, 302 ; on
the genitive case, 305 ; on the origin of
speech, 362
Miiller, Professor F. Max, on ideas,
42, 43 ; on language as necessary to
thought, 81, 83; on psychology of
judgment, 165; on the copula, 173;
on origin of the personal pronoun, 210 ;
on evolution of language, 241 ; on
demonstrative elements, 244, 423 ; on
roots of Sanskrit, 267-289 ; on undiffer-
entiated language of young children,
296, 317 ; on sentence-words, 298-300,

317 ; on gesture origin of pronouns,
302, and of language in general, 354 ;
on origin of adjectives, 306 ; on the
origin of verbs, 307 ; on Chinese
sintence-words, 317 ; on Aristotle's
logic as based on Greek grammar, 320,
321 ; on philology proving that human
thought has proceeded from the abstract
to the concre'e, 334-336 ; on names
necessarily implying concepts, 336, 337 ;
on fundamental metaphor, 344, 345 ;
on imperfection of early names, 356 ;
on the evolution of parts of speech,
423 ; on the general theory of evolu-
tion, 432, 433

N

Names, in relation to abstract and generic
ideas, 31, 32, 57, 58, 70-78, 174, 273-
28 1, 336-339; not always necessary
for thoughts, 81-83 > or thoughts for
them, 226, 336-339

Natterer, J., on the languages of Brazil,
263

Negro, intelligence of, 13 ; Mr. Mivart's
use of the term to illustrate the psycho-
logy of predication, 166, 235

Neuter insects, instincts of, 297-299

Nodier, on onomatopoeia, 288 ; on meta-
phor, 344

Noire, on ideas, 43 ; on the origin of
speech, 288, 289, 379-381 ; 01: the
origin of pronouns, 302 ; on funda-
mental metaphor, 344, 345

Nominalism, 145

Noun-substantives, appropriately used by
parrots, 129, 152; early use of, by
children, 218; of earlier linguistic
growth than verbs or pronouns, 275 ;
not differentiated in early forms of
speech, 295 et seq. ; oblique cases of,
as attribute-words, 306, 385

O

Onomatopoeia, in nursery-language, 136,
244 ; in relation to the origin of speech,
282-293, 339

LVD EX.

449

Orang-outang. See Apes
Oregon, climate and native languages of,
262

Palaeontology. See Geology

Parrots, talking of, 12S-138 ; use of in-
dicative signs by, 158 ; denotative and
connotative powers of, 1 79-191, 222-
226 ; statements made by, 189, 190

Particular ideas. See Ideas

Parts of speech, differentiation of language
into, 294-320, 339-342, 423

Peckham, jNIr. and Mrs., on memory in a
spider, 207

Perception, analogies between reason and,
32 ; constituted by fusions of sensations,
37 ; in relation to other mental faculties,
48 ; illusions of, 49

Perez on psychogenesis of the chikl, 26,
41, 158, 210

Philippine language. See Language

Philology. See Language

Pickering on poverty of savage languages
in abstract terms, 352

Pictures recognized as portraits, &c., by
infants, dogs, and monkeys, 188, 189

Pig taught to point game, 97

Poescher on the Aryan race, 273

Pointing, game by a pig, 97 ; of setter-
dogs, 97, 98 ; as the first stage of
language, 157, 158

Polynesian languages. See Languages

Polysynlhetic. See Languages

Pony, sign-making by, 97

Pott, on the origin of speech, 240 ; on
language- roots, 267 ; on names for
thunder, 286 ; on fundamental meta-
phor, 344

I'owcrs on the climate of California, 261

I're-concepts, 185-193, 218, 219, 227-
230, 278, 384, 386

Predicate, the, 305, 306, 423

Predication, 88, 89, 157, 162-164, '^9,
171, 175. 227, 235-237, 294 et scq.,
384, 386, 387, 422

Prepositions not differentiated in early
forms of speech, 295 et seq.

Preyer, on psychogenesis of the child , 26,
219, 221, 222 ; on sensuous computa-
tion of number, 57, 58
Primates. See Apes and Monkeys
Pritchard on Celtic languages, 275
Progress in successive generations, 12-15
Pronoun, first personal, 201, 232, 301,

387-389, 408, 409
Pronouns and pronominal elements, 210,
275 ; not differentiated in early forms
of speech, 295 et seq. ; origin of, in
gestures, 301-304, 3S7, 421, 422
Proposition. See Predication
Psychogenesis. See Child
Psychology, See Mind

Q

Quadrumana. See Apes and Monkeys

K

Radical. See Languages

Ray on different tones used by the
common hen, 96

Reason in relation to perception, 32 ; to
sensation, 37 ; and to other mental
faculties in general, 48

Recepts, defined, 36-39 ; logic of, 40-69 ;
recognized by previous writers, 40-45 ;
in relation to the intellectual faculties,
4S-50, 234 ; examples of, in the animal
kingdom, 51-63; as primitive as per-
cepts, 64-69 ; of water-fowl, 74 ; in re-
lation to judgment and self-conscious-
ness, 176-193 ; as higher and lower,
184-193 ; counting by, 214, 215 ;
naming l)y, 218, 219 ; of the framers of
Sanskrit, 277-279 ; philologicaily prior
to concepts, 343-349

Reflection in relation to reflex action,
48. See also Thought

Reflex action, 48

Religion alleged to distinguish man from
brute, 17, 19, 346

Rcnan on roots of Hebrew, 266

Rcngger on different tones uttered iiy
the cebus, 96

2 G

450

liXDEX.

KLpliles, understanding by, of tones of
human voice, 124

Ribot, Professor, on self-consciousness,
212

Richter on obliteration of the original
meanings of words, 284

Romance languages. See Languages

Romanes, on teaching an ape to count,
58; on intelligence of cebus, 60, 61 ;
on sign-making by caterpillars, 95, 96 ;
on pointing of setter-dogs, 97, 98 ; on
sign-making by other dogs, 100, 221 ;
on infant intelligence, 122, 159, 160,
188, 189, 218-220, 232, 283, 324; on
dogs and apes understanding words,
124-126; on talking birds, 129, 130;
on ideation of deaf-mutes, 149, 150

Rooks, intelligence of, 56, 57

Roots of language. See Language

Sandwith on poverty of savage languages
in abstract terms, 352

Sanskrit. See Language

.Sayce, Professor, on differences of degree
and kind, 3 ; on terms as abbreviated
judgments, 170 ; on the number of
languages, 245 ; on the affinities be-
tween languages, 250-259 ; on mono-
syllabic origin of language, 268 ; on
civilization of the Aryan race, 272 ; on
antiquity of the Aryan race, 273 ; on
rarity of general terms in savage lan-
guages, 280 ; on onomatopoeia, 286 ;
on the clicks in the language of Hot-
tentots, etc., 291, 373, 374 ; on sen-
tence-words, 299, 300, 303 ; on the
origin of pronouns, 302 ; on the genitive
case, the predicate, and the attribute,
305, 306, 313, 423 ; on the evolution
of nouns, adjectives, and verbs, 308 ;
on Aristotle's logic as based on Greek
grammar, 321 ; on deficiency of savage
languages in abstract terms, 352 ; on
Noire's theory of the origin of speech,
380

Schelling on parts of speech, 295, 296

Schlegel on the origin of speech, 240

Schleicher, on evolution of language,
241 ; on fornndx' of language-structure,
248

Scott, Dr., on psychology of idiots and
deaf-mutes, 104, 105, 115, 116, 121

Scott, Sir Walter, on a dog understand-
ing words, 125

Self-consciousness, condition to intro-
spective reflection or thought, 175 ;
absent in brutes, 175, 176 ; genesis of,
194-212; philosophy and psychology
of, 194, 195 ; character of, in man and
in brutes, 195-212 ; as inward and
outward, or receptual and conceptual,
199, 200 ; growth of, in child, 200-
212, 228, 229-234

Semitic. See Languages

Sensation in relation to perception and
reason, 37 ; and to other mental facul-
ties in general, 48

Sentence and sentence-words, 296 et seij.

Sicard, Abbe, on syntax of gesture-lan-
guage, 116

Sight, superior use of sense of, by man,
366, 367

Signs and sign-making. Sec Language

Simple ideas. See Ideas

Skeat, Professor, on Aryan roots of Eng-
lish, 266

Skinner, Major, on intelligence of ele-
phants, 98

Smith, Rev. S., on ideation of deaf-
mutes, 150

Snakes, understanding by, of tones of
human voice, 124

Solomon, quoted, 195

Somnambulism in animals, 149

Speech. See Language

Spider, intelligence of, 62, 63, 153,
207

Steinthal, on ideas, 45 ; first issue of his
Zeitschrift, 240 ; on roots of language,
277 ; on onomatopoeia, 286 ; on primi-
tive forms of predication, 318

Stephen, Leslie, on intelligence of the
dog, 54

Stephen, Sir James, on dependence of
thought upon language, 85

INDEX.

451

Street, A. E., on vocabulary of a young
child, 143, 144

Substantive. See Noun and Verb

Sullivan, Sir J., on talking birds, 130

Sully, J., on ideas, 40, 41 ; on illusions
of perception, 49 ; on rise of self-
consciousness in the growing child,
201-203, 207, 210, 212

Sweet, on animistic thought of primitive
man, 275 ; on the evolution of gram-
matical forms, 306, 315, 316

Syntax, of gesture-language, 107-120 ;
of different spoken languages, 246,
247 ; of gesture-language in relation
to that of early speech, 339-342, 385

Syriac language. Sec Language

Taine, on psychogenesis of the child,
26, 66, 67, 180, 181 ; on abstract
ideas, 31, 32 ; on self-consciousness,
212

Thought, distinguished from reason,
12 ; absent in brutes, 29, 30 ; de-
pendent on language, 30, 31 ; simplest
element of, 165, 174, 215, 216; ani-
mistic, of primitive and savage man,
275 ; not necessary to naming, 226,

336-339
Toads, understanding by, of tones of

human voice, 124
Tone. See Language
Tools, said to be only used by man, 19 ;
names of, derived from activities re-
quiring only natural organs, 345-347 ;
used by monkeys, 382
Threlkeld on language of savages, 349
Transposition. See Languages
Tschudi, Baron von, on the Klietshua

language, 262, 263
Turkish language. See Language
Tylor, on sign-making by Indians and
deaf-mutes, 105-10S, 113-117; on
articulate sounds instinctively made by
deaf-mutes, 122 ; on ideation of deaf-
mutes, 150

Varro on roots of Latin, 267

Verbs, appropriately used by parrots,
130, 152; substantive, 167, 308-312;
early use of, by children, 219; early
origin of, 274 ; not differentiated in
early forms of speech, 295 et seq. :
development of, 275, 307, 308,

385, 386
Voice. See Language
Volition of man and brutes compared, 8

W

Waitz, Professor, on self-consciousness,
212 ; on the sentence as the unit of
language, 296
Wallace, A. R.,on intelligence of savage
man in relation to his cerebral develop-
ment, 15, 16
Ward on the descent of man, 365
Wasps, sign-making by, 88-90
Watson on understanding of words by

brutes, 125
Wedgwood, on roots of language, 268 ;

on onomatopoeia, 288
Westropp, H. M., on intelligence of a

bear, 51
Whitney, iProfessor, on dependence of
thought upon words, 83 ; on superiority
of voice to gesture in sign-making,
147, 148 ; on our ignorance of poly-
synthetic languages, 255, 256 ; on
monosyllabic origin of language, 267 ;
on civilization of the Aryan race, 272 ;
on the growth of language, 290 ; on
priority of words to sentences, 333,
334 ; on fundamental metaphor, 343 ;
on the possibly speechless condition of
primitive man, 369
Wildman on bees understanding tones

of human voice, 124
Wilkes, Dr. S., on talking birds, 131,

132, 136
Will. See Volition
Wolf, intelligence of, 53
Wright, Chauncey, on laiigungc in rcia-

452

JXDF.X.

tion to brain- weight, i6 ; on self-
consciousness, 199, 206, 207, 212
Wundt, Professor, on latent period in
seeing and hearing, 146 ; on self-con-
sciousness, 197, 200, 201, 208, 211,
212 ; on evolution of language, 265 ;
on the distinction between ideas as
general and generic, 279, 280 ; on
onomatopoeia, 287, 291 ; on objective
phraseology of primitive speech, 301 ;
on sentence- words, 304

Youatt on a pig being taught to point
game, 97

Z

Zend language. See Language
Zoological affinity between man and
brute, 19

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GEORGE JOHN ROMANES.

ANOTHER of our not too numerous band of English
biological investigators has been taken from us in
the prime of life. The list is a heart-rending one, and its
full share of sadness surrounds the fate of this last dear
friend and companion. Garrod, Frank Balfour, Moselcy,
Herbert Carpenter, Milnes Marshall— all were younger ai
death than Romanes, and he only reached the age of
forty-six just three days before he died. For some two
years his friends have watched with anguish the progress
of the disease — a condition of the arteries resulting in
apoplexy — which has now ended his pain. Marvellous was
the activity of mind and the eagerness with which he
pursued his favourite discussions even to the day of his
death. Nothing, perhaps, more touching was ever wit-
nessed by those who knew and loved his kindly earnest
nature than the calm conviction with which he realised
that the hand of Death was laid on him, the pathetic
smile with which he would say, as he putied his cigarette,
" Of course my life is only hanging by a thread, and I
shall never be able to finish the experiments which would.
I think, convince you."

George John Romanes was the son of the Rev. Prof.
Romanes, and was born in Kingston, Canada, on May
20, 1S48. He studied at Caius College, Cambridge,
took honours in the Natural Sciences Tripos (1870), and
was Burney Prize essayist in 1873. Having private
means, he determined to devote himself to the study of
psychology, which he proceeded to attack from two sides
— that of physiology, and that of the doctrine of evolu-
tion. He further equipped himself for his task by
mastering the teachings of modern writers on " philo-
sophy." To contribute to a knowledge of the evolution of
Mind was the ultimate aim of his numerous researches
and discussions. He was fortunate as a young man in
forming an intimate friendship with Mr. Darwin; and it
was his ambition not merely to carry the application of
Mr. Darwin's methods and principles into the great field
of mental evolution, but also to strengthen and, where
possible, supplement the Darwinian theory itself. Mr.
Darwin assisted Romanes in this enterprise by leaving to
him unpublished work of his own on " instinct " and
similar subjects.

Romanes first became known to the larger public as a
gifted and capable exponent of scientific doctrine by the
lecture on "Animal Intelligence'' which he gave in
Dublin during the meeting of the British Associa-
tion in that city in 1878. He was subsequently
appointed Fullerian Prolessor in the Royal Insti-
tution, and gave numerous lectures both there and
at the London Institution. He contributed a series
of papers describing his researches on the nervous
system of the Medusae to the Philosophical Transaciio?is,
and was elected a Fellow of the Royal Society fifteen
years ago. His literary activity was very great, and re-
sulted in the publication of several large and well-known
books, as well as in numerous essays and short articles
of a controversial character published in the reviews and
in this journal. His chief books are "Animal Intelli-
gence,'' " Mental Evolution in Animals," " Mental
Evolution in Man," " Jelly-fish, Star-fish, and Sea-
urchins," " Darwin and after Darwin," and " An Examin-
ation of Weismannism.'' He had a keen love of public!

,.( '*■?■ .■■'■,•. .,'.".'.'.■-, V.\"''.',. '•'.'■'•'/''• '• I

000 029 415 7

liscussion and a native skill in dialectic, which may
sometimes have led him to seek too eagerly an argu-
mentative triumph. But his writings bear evidence of
the most extensive knowledge and of a conscientious
examination of all sources of information, combined with
independence of judgment and much subtlety of analysis.
The high estimation in which his work is held may be
judged of from the fact that all his books have been
translated into French and German, and that the book
on which he was engaged when the first symptoms of his
fatal illness appeared — namely, that entitled " Darwin
and after Darwin" — was published simultaneously in the
United States and in this country under special conditions
highly satisfactory to him.

Four years ago, in order to enjoy greater quietude and
the facilitiesof the newly erected physiological laboratory
of the University, Romanes removed from London and
took up his residence with his wife and family in a
fine old house in Oxford, facing the cathedral house
of Christchurch. Here he has left his name and
memory not only to be cherished by the number-
less friends who mourn his early death, but to be
carried forward to all future generations of Oxford
scholars by the lectureship founded by him three years
ago. Gladstone, Huxley, and Weismann have been the
first three " Romanes lecturers"' nominated successively
by the founder. Hereafter it will be the duty of the
University to elect annually a lecturer worthy to follow
them.

Whilst it would be premature to claim for Romanes the
merit of a great discoverer or originator in psychology
or in the philosophy of evolution, it is neverthe-
less true that by his keen criticism, careful mastery
of details, and great literary fertility, he has exer-
cised a most important influence— stimulating the
thought and research of others by his example and
enthusiasm, and by those contests in the arena of the
" reviews" with Wallace, Spencer, and Weismann, which
have made his name so widely known.

It is not generally known, though a fact, that Romanes
produced, in addition to his numerous scientific writings,
a considerable volume of verse, which was printed for
private distribution, as well as occasional poems. These
poems deal with philosophic and emotional subjects,
and are often of great beauty. It should be mentioned
(although it is not possible here to record every fact of
importance in his life) that Romanes was for some years
honorary secretary of the Linnean Society of London,
and a member of the Council of University Gollege,
London ; he was Rede lecturer in the University ol
Cambridge, an honorary LL.D. of the University ol
Aberdeen, twice Croonian Jecliirer of the Royal Society
of London, and Rosebery lecturer in the University ol
Edinburgh, when the courses delivered by him formed
the substance of his book, " Darwin and after Darwin."

One word before this too hasty notice is roiuluded as
to his personality. His unaffected good nature, and
almost boyish simplicity and gaiety of character, en
deared him to every man and woman wiili whom he came
into contact. He has If ft hchiiul liiin iiuuibcrlcss frietuU,
not one encMiiv. ' • l-^ ^^ LxSKl.sri'