,^^ 
 
 
 ^ , , 
 
 
 >^ -^c. 
 
 xO°.. 
 
 ~o 
 
 <."• ^Jfc" 
 
 % 
 
 »., 
 
 '^>! 
 
 
 ^J 
 
 
 
 
 .\> , O N C^ ^^^ 
 
 
 
 ■'^A 
 
 ^ij 
 
 .-^^ 
 
 ,00 - -^ \- 
 
 ^OO 
 

 c 
 
 
 '^- 
 
 8 I 1' 
 
 
 
 
 
 >' 
 
 
 f 
 
 
 ^^^^ 
 
 
 
 -^i-j^':'^>''''y 
 
 ^^ ^M 
 
 i^^m.^ -oo^ : 
 
 «^ -T*^ 
 
 ^ o » n "* A 
 
-<^7/.jf-^^ 
 
PUBLICATIONS OF THE TRAINING SCHOOL AT VINELAND 
 NEW JERSEY 
 
 DEPARTMENT OF RESEARCH 
 
 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE 
 FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 BY 
 
 ALFRED BINET, Sc.D. and TH. SIMON, M.D. 
 
 TRANSLATED BY 
 
 ELIZABETH S. KITE 
 
 Diplome d'Instruction Primaire Superieure 
 
 Paris le 23 juillet, 1905 
 
 Member of the Staff of the Vineland 
 
 Research Laboratory 
 
 fAf/ oEVoreo '••&''//, 
 
 0^/ TO THE \oi 
 
 0%: INTERESTS OF i^" ^ 
 ^>- THOSE WHOSE :*^ 
 ^-4; MINDS HAVE NOT -X? 
 « ^\ DEVELOPED -Mt^ 
 
 
 ^^^WWsNSS^' 
 
 NO. 12, JUNE, 1916 
 
 Monograp 
 
\S^. 
 
 ^(po* 
 
 ^ 
 
 (p 
 
 Copyright, 1916 
 
 BY 
 
 Henry H. Goddard 
 
 /; 
 
 1916 
 
 WILLIAMS & WILKINS COMPANY 
 
 BALTIMORE 
 
 JUL 26 1916 
 
 ©Cl.A43i;)96 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Pakt 1 
 
 The Intelligence of the Feeble-Minded 
 (L'Annee Psychologique, 1909, pp. 1-147) 
 
 CHAPTEBS PAGE 
 
 Introduction 5 
 
 I. Character — The Rebellious and the Docile 13 
 
 II. Attention from the Point of View of its Concentration 29 
 
 III. Voluntary Effort 34 
 
 IV. Movements in Writing 46 
 
 V. Intelligence and Perception 53 
 
 VI. The Sense of Pain 60 
 
 VII. Association of Ideas in the Feeble-Minded 66 
 
 VIII. Activity of the Intelligence Distinguished from the Level of 
 
 the Intelligence 75 
 
 IX. The Number Sense and the Arithmetical Faculty 88 
 
 X. Reasoning 97 
 
 XI. Suggestibility through Docility 106 
 
 XII. How a Moron may have an Esprit Faux 120 
 
 XIII. A Scheme of Thought 130 
 
 Part II 
 
 The Language of the Feeble-Minded 
 
 (L'Annee Psychologique, 1908, pp. 284-339) 
 
 I. A New Psychogenetic Method 159 
 
 II. Aphasia and the Psychology of Language 162 
 
 III. An Observation of an Imbecile. Scientific Determination of 
 
 her Level 164 
 
 IV. Analysis of the State of Language of this Imbecile 170 
 
 V. Discussion of Three Hypotheses upon the Absence of Speech in 
 
 our Subject 177 
 
 VI. The Psychological Condition of Speech. Experiments and 
 
 Theory 181 
 
 VII. Comparison between Aphasia properly so-called and the Poverty 
 
 of Language of the Low Grade Imbecile 188 
 
 VIII. The Function of Language as a Sign of Human Intelligence... . 193 
 
 IX. The Evolution of Language 198 
 
 X. The Relation between Language and Thought 210 
 
/ CONTENTS 
 
 Part III 
 
 Feeblb-Mindedness and Dementia 
 {L'Annee Psychologique, 1909, pp. 168-272) 
 
 CHAFTERd VASB 
 
 I. The Intellectual Weakening in General Paralysis 219 
 
 II. The Minor Psychological Signs of General Paralysis 270 
 
 III. Difference between the Two Notions of Functioning and Develop- 
 ment 271 
 
 IV. Distinction between Ideational Intelligence and Instinctive 
 
 Intelligence 297 
 
 Conclusion 320 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 It IS with peculiar pleasure that the Vineland Research Depart- 
 ment presents to the public Miss Kite's translation of Binet and 
 Simon's work entitled The Intelligence of the Feeble-Minded. 
 
 Nowhere does Binet's genius show more brilliantly than in this 
 work. That he in the midst of a busy life and in addition to all 
 his other work could have acquired so great a knowledge of men- 
 tal defectives is amazing ; the more so when we realize that it was 
 first-hand knowledge gained from observation backed by keen 
 perception, that perception that enabled him to see the truth 
 with a quickness that makes the rest of us, still groping in the 
 dark, question if it was truth Binet saw. But that it was truth 
 we are learning every day. After ten years of the Vineland labo- 
 ratory it is surprising to find how little we have found that Binet 
 had not already discovered. It is true we have found it inde- 
 pendently and so it is confirmatory evidence. 
 
 It is because our own experience has led us to the same conclu- 
 sions, wherever we have studied the same points, that we have 
 come to have such a profound regard for Binet that we feel like 
 pronouncing this the most important and enlightening work on 
 the real nature of the mental defective, that has ever appeared. 
 
 The study of the language of the feeble-minded will also be 
 found most illuminating in a region usually characterized by 
 darkness. 
 
 Finally the discussion of feeble-mindedness and dementia is 
 quite as timely and enlightening as the rest. 
 
 We have included these various articles in this volume for two 
 reasons: first, because they all contribute to our knowledge of 
 the feeble-minded; and second, they all give us further illustra- 
 tion of the way Binet used his own Measuring Scale. 
 
 A word might be said in reference to the title. Binet and 
 Simon's title for the first and longest section is ^^U Intelligence des 
 Imbeciles" literally "The Intelligence of the Imbeciles" but they 
 definitely state (page 10) that they refer to the entire group of 
 subnormals. Hence, while "Imbeciles" is still the legal word, we 
 
 5 
 
6 INTRODUCTION 
 
 have preferred to use the more popular generic term, Feeble- 
 Minded, as on the whole better expressing the meaning of the 
 authors and conveying a clearer idea of the scope of the work. 
 
 It was originally intended to publish this volume and The De- 
 velopment of the Intelligence in Children as one, hence all that was 
 said there of the faithful work of the various members of the 
 Research Department should be repeated here. Miss Kite's 
 translation will speak for itself. 
 
 Biographical Note. No one will read these volumes without 
 desiring to know something of the distinguished authors. 
 
 Alfred Binet was born in Nice, July 11, 1857. His mother 
 was an artist; his father a physician. 
 
 JBin^t-jii£Bt-eacJ^Cto. Paris and studied first law then medicine. 
 He worked in the biological laboratory of the noted Balbiani. 
 But he was strongly drawn toward Experimental Psychology. 
 In 1889 he created at the Sorbonne the first Psychological Labo- 
 ratory in France. 
 
 He was remarkably versatile and worked and wrote in many 
 fields. 
 
 He was an indefatigable worker, but he worked easily and 
 always with that keen insight which enabled him to see quickly 
 the significance of his facts, so that little energy was wasted on 
 useless hypotheses. 
 
 He died in Paris, October 18, 1911, from an acute attack of 
 cerebral apoplexy. 
 
 Dr. Th. Simon was born at Dijon, July 10, 1873. He took 
 his degree in medicine in Paris. His thesis received Honorable 
 Mention. 
 
 Since 1908, he has been physician at the Hospital for the Insane 
 at Saint-Yon. 
 
 After the death of Binet Dr. Simon was made President of the 
 Society for the Psychological Study of the Child. 
 
 Henry H. Goddard, 
 
 Editor. 
 
PART I 
 
 The Intelligence of the Feeble-Minded 
 
THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE- 
 MINDED 
 
 PRELIMINARIES 
 
 Numerous investigations, especially in France, directed to- 
 ward pathological psychology, have exercised such an influence 
 upon philosophers that some of them have come to consider 
 mental pathology as the best means of psychological analysis 
 — which is true; but they have even gone so far as to believe 
 that it is by pathology alone that the normal can be understood 
 — something infinitely less probable. We need nothing further 
 as proof of this prejudice than the fortune which has attended 
 that expression Mental Synthesis (synthese mentale) which is 
 today so wide spread that it has come to be the center of the ex- 
 planation of all mental states, and which evidently originated 
 in the observation of patients deprived of this synthesis. It 
 results from this that the notion of co-ordination, and that of 
 hierarchy, which are the analyzed elements of the idea of syn- 
 thesis, have entered into the plan of all the theories. 
 
 We have not the slightest intention of objecting to the truth of 
 these conclusions, but only to their exaggeration: they seem to 
 us very limited, and cannot in our opinion embrace the immense 
 domain of the pathology of mind; and the studies which serve 
 as a basis for them have neglected a great number of "malades 
 mentaux," who, we believe, do not suffer at all from a lack of 
 mental synthesis. In a word, we think that mental pathology 
 contains, as subjects worthy of study, not simply hysterics, 
 neurasthenics, psychasthenics, etc., those examples typical of 
 disintegration, but types wholly different; for example, those of 
 backward intelligence, and the diverse categories of dementia. 
 If we add the two latter classes to that of the disintegrated, we 
 shall certainly arrive at a very much broader view of mental 
 pathology. 
 
 This is precisely the work which we have undertaken; and let 
 us say at once, in order to clear our path in advance, we have 
 
10 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 come to the conclusion that the particular psychological modifi- 
 cation which constitutes "un aliene," has at least three funda- 
 mental causes (without prejudice to other mechanisms, which 
 are unknown to us, or rather of which we have only a presenti- 
 ment) . 
 
 1. An alteration of mental synthesis — we shall not speak of this. 
 
 2. A defect, an arrest, or an insufficiency of intellectual develop- 
 ment. 
 
 3. A defect, an arrest, or an insufficiency of intellectual func- 
 tioning. 
 
 To the study of these last two mechanisms, two distinct arti- 
 cles will be devoted, one upon Imbeciles, the other upon Dements. 
 
 This article will deal only with the inteUigence of imbeciles, 
 or rather, taking in our title the species for the genus, we shall 
 set forth what is peculiar to the intelligence of all types of de- 
 fectives. There is in particular, as everyone knows, a lack 
 of development; and apropos of this we shall present a new method 
 of psychology, which may be called psychogenetics. For it will 
 suffice for us to put into a series, in the order of the develop- 
 ment of their intelligence, a certain number of these backward sub- 
 jects, and to study throughout this series a particular phenomenon; 
 for example, the sense of pain or the attention, to see what are 
 the necessary stages of development which this phenomenon 
 presents, and how it evolves. Looked at from this psychological 
 point of view, the study of the imbecile approaches that of the 
 normal child and even of animals. We find here a means of re- 
 newing, developing, and perfecting our former investigations 
 upon children. This comparing of a backward intelligence to 
 that of a child of a certain age, might have passed ten years ago 
 as simple literary comparison; but since today we have acquired 
 the power to fix within a few months at least the age of the intelli- 
 gence of defectives,^ since we can with good reason consider a 
 certain idiot of thirty years as the equivalent of a child of one, 
 or an imbecile of twenty as the equivalent of a child of six, and 
 since these defectives are so many children arrested in a certain 
 phase of their development, we have only to arrange these de- 
 fectives in an ascending series of evolution, in order to make 
 with it and because of it, the psychogenesis of a function. 
 
 ' See our preceding article upon "The Development of the Intelligence 
 Among Children" (p. 108). 
 
PRELIMINARIES 1 1 
 
 The critics of tomorrow, who surely will not fail to appear, 
 will teach us what must be corrected and gone over in our plan 
 of studies; for the sources of error, little by little, will have been 
 disclosed. That is a secondary work. But first it must be demon- 
 strated, and this is what we are going to attempt, that the new 
 method to which we are calling attention really exists; and that 
 to make this demonstration, nothing is simpler than to put it 
 in operation. We shall therefore trace, by means of a study of 
 imbeciles, the mental evolution of the following phenomena: 
 character, attention, effort, motor ability and writing, the intel- 
 ligence of perception, the sense of pain, association of ideas, in- 
 tellectual activity, the arithmetical faculty, reasoning, suggesti- 
 bility and docility, and how an imbecile may have "V esprit faux." 
 
 Afterwards, leaving the details, or rather by synthesizing them, 
 we shall try to discover exactly in what mental development 
 consists, by what mechanism it is produced, and how a superior 
 intelligence differs from an inferior one. Apropos of this we shall 
 be led to describe a new scheme of thought in order to under- 
 stand thoroughly the manner in which it develops. 
 
CHARACTER OF IDIOTS 15 
 
 The portrait which we give of him (fig. 1) is made from a 
 snapshot; the wrinkles of his forehead are due to blinking 
 caused by the direct light of the sun. This must be taken into 
 account. The portrait is of value only as it represents the regu- 
 larity of his features. On the other hand Vouzin has a number 
 of tics, which are like so many stigmata added to a normal anat- 
 omy. He almost constantly emits gutteral sounds; he moves 
 a quantity of saliva about in his mouth; when seated, he sways 
 his body backv/ards and forwards; frequently he looks at the 
 ends of his fingers with flitting attention. All these tics seem 
 to us explainable in part in the same way as those of certain blind 
 persons; they are motor tendencies which might arise, under very 
 exceptional conditions, among normals; but normals arrest and 
 suppress them. The blind do not succeed in suppressing them, 
 because they do not see them, and are therefore unconscious 
 of their existence. Thus a blind musician shows an expression 
 of suffering when he is executing a difficult passage. The idiot 
 does not suppress these tics for various reasons. In the first 
 place, although being able to perceive them, he has not enough 
 intelligence to realize that such actions are not proper. Again, 
 certain tics are probably uncontrollable. Finally the number 
 of tics and their peculiarities are the expression of a particular 
 condition of the nervous system. 
 
 We photographed Vouzin in an enclosure surrounded by a 
 wooden paling; this had for us almost a symbolic value, our idiot 
 being confined like an animal in the zoological garden. Almost 
 in spite of ourselves we compare him to an animal whose training 
 has just commenced. If you call him he comes; if he is in the 
 house, he runs whenever a door is opened; he presents himself 
 at the door to see who is entering, showing us the naive curiosity 
 of an animal. If one says "good day" to him, holding out the 
 hand, he does not reply verbally, for he does not know how to 
 speak, but he understands the significance of the extended hand; 
 he gives j'ou a finger, only one, which would be, in another, a lack 
 of culture or intended disdain, but is only awkwardness in him. 
 If an object is presented to him, sometimes he does not take it, 
 sometimes on the contrary he seizes it with an awkward gesture; 
 he holds his hand flat, with the fingers close together. One would- 
 say that he was expecting to receive a penny in the palm of his 
 hand. At other times he does not use his hands or arms, which 
 
16 
 
 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 he allows to hang awkwardly at his side; if food is offered, ho 
 thrusts his mouth forward to seize it reminding one of an animal. 
 Figure 2 represents him in one of these attitudes. Vouzin did 
 not take this pose in response to a command, but spontaneously. 
 Furthermore, he does not understand a verbal order so compli- 
 cated as this. His prehension is extremely defective; if an object 
 is presented to him, he holds it in his hand; if a second is offered 
 
 FIG. 2. ONE PRESENTS A BISCUIT TO THE IDIOT VOL ZIX, WHO INSTEAD OF 
 TAKING IT WITH HIS HAND. PUTS FORWARD HIS MOUTH AND TAKES IT ANI- 
 MAL FASHION. 
 
 he takes it without letting go the first. A third object is received 
 in the same way and so on and on, without his ever having the 
 idea of ridding himself of them by depositing the objects on a 
 table. 
 
 Vouzin is obedient. If an order is given him by gestures, he 
 can execute it. When he is seated, he understands the gesture 
 which orders him to stand up; when he is standing if we show him 
 a chair and invite him to be seated, he understands and seats 
 
CHARACTER OF IDIOTS 
 
 17 
 
 himself abruptly, folding his legs under the chair with an awk- 
 ward movement. 
 
 If Vouzin's cap is taken off his head and he is told to go and 
 hunt it, he does so without remonstrance, finds his cap and puts 
 it on his head. We repeat the same play a dozen times. In 
 the end, Vouzin shows a timid resistance; he leans his head away 
 from us to save his cap; but he does not defend himself with his 
 
 FIG. 3. CRETIN, YOUNG IMBECILE OF MIDDLE GRADE, OF SEVENTEEN 
 YEARS. SHE CAN TELL HER NAME, SEX, POINT TO HER NOSE, BUT CANNOT 
 COMPARE TWO WEIGHTS, COPY A SQUARE NOR COUNT FOUR SOUS. CHAR- 
 ACTER REBELLIOUS. INTELLECTUAL LEVEL FOUR YEARS. 
 
 hands nor does he get up to go away from us. If his cap is hid- 
 den before his eyes under a pile of books, he will go and get it. 
 We placed his cap upon the horizontal bar of a measuring rod. 
 He refused to go and take it and shook his head as a sign of ne- 
 gation. Was he afraid? It is possible. In any case, at last 
 he rebelled. But he is far from rebellious in the same way as 
 little M — — , a turbulent young idiot, six years of age whom a 
 
18 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 skin disease has left completely bald. She enters our office 
 without looking at us and walks up and down grinding her teeth. 
 We draw near to her and hand her a biscuit. She takes it with 
 a quick movement, and throws it on the ground. Many other 
 objects offered to her have the same fate; they are taken, then 
 thrown forcibly to the ground. The child in doing this does 
 not express any anger. Furthermore her face remains totally 
 inexpressive. She spends her time putting her hands in her 
 mouth and grinding her teeth. We try to awaken some feeling 
 in her, and we put our fist under her nose, but she does not seem 
 to understand this mimicry, at all events she remains impassive. 
 We follow her into the room. She goes hap-hazard, seats her- 
 self in a corner and fixes upon us a voluntary gaze; then seeing 
 a chair in front of her she turns it over without saying a word. 
 A little farther on she encounters an apron placed upon a chair; 
 she takes the apron and throws it on the ground. She next 
 finds a basket containing a biscuit; she takes the biscuit and 
 throws it away; one is obliged to watch her to prevent her from 
 destroying fragile objects. 
 
 Thus here are two idiots one of whom is gentle enough, while 
 the other is a disagreeable example of a rebellious subject. 
 
 Characters of Imbeciles and Morons 
 
 There are the same distinctions in imbeciles and morons; 
 there are imbeciles who are docile, who execute the orders given 
 to them and from whom we obtain their best in the diverse experi- 
 ments to which we subject them; and there are others who sub- 
 mit to nothing, who are rebellious, and who do not wish to exe- 
 cute any of our orders, and who out of ill-will reply, "I do not 
 know," to all our questions. One must be well aware of the exist- 
 ence of these two types of character and their psychological 
 significance. 
 
 Let us cite several examples which will show the great variety 
 of characters that may be included under the same term. Among 
 the rebellious we note Cretin, an imbecile of twenty who has 
 the fierce air of an untamed animal, who is always on the defen- 
 sive, distrusts us, is afraid of us, and at every moment wishes 
 to get away. When she rises it is almost impossible to make 
 her sit down again. Beauvisage. another imbecile of twenty, 
 
CHARACTER OF IMBECILES AND MORONS 
 
 19 
 
 but of a somewhat higher degree than the other (middle grade im- 
 becile), shows very much the same savage, timid character; 
 she is nevertheless rather less surly, and is more easily made to 
 weep. When the measurement of her head was to be taken, 
 she became alarmed, refused to come, beginning to cry; it finally 
 required two sous to make her decide to submit to this harmless 
 operation. Duguet, another imbecile woman of the same men- 
 
 FIG. 4, BEAUVISAGE, YOUNG IMBECILE OF HIGH GRADE, AGED TWENTY 
 YEARS. SHE CAN COUNT FOUR SOUS, COMPARE TWO WEIGHTS, DO THREE 
 ERRANDS, ETC. INTELLECTUAL LEVEL OF SIX YEARS. 
 
 tal level as Beauvisage, and older than she, evinced no emotion 
 that could properly be called fear. She smiled constantly, a 
 simpering sort of smile, and when asked to do the easiest test 
 invariably replied, "Don't know," then began to laugh, plung- 
 ing her head into her arms. Nevertheless she would generally 
 be able to reply if she made the slightest effort. Another example 
 is Galiard, a moron, who suffers from attacks of epilepsy and 
 
20 
 
 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 who, after one of these attacks, completely changed her attitude 
 towards us. In the beginning she seemed eager and full of interest 
 in spite of a little intellectual apathy. But after her attacks 
 her character changed; she is taciturn, diagreeable, scarcely 
 replying to our questions, and then only in monosyllables, and 
 when we insist, she pretends to be looking elsewhere. 
 
 Here is still another example, but of a very different sort; 
 Laraz^, a young girl of fourteen, who is almost normal as regards 
 
 FIG. 
 
 LARAZfi, YOUNG GIRL OF FOURTEEN, NORMAL INTELLIGENCE, 
 BUT UNSTABLE. 
 
 intelligence, but who has been confined because of ''perversion des 
 instincts." She is a singular person, with no apparent intellec- 
 tual deficiency. She is quick of speech, makes sensible replies, 
 in marked contrast with the mute stupidity of our habitual 
 defectives. She responds to all our little attempts, she is there- 
 fore not rebellious in the proper sense of the word. Neverthe- 
 less she is of a peculiar character, as we can see from her his- 
 
CHARACTER OF IMBECILES AND MORONS 
 
 21 
 
 tory outside of the institution. She has been in thirty-six places, 
 leaving each time impulsively and finally she was imprisoned 
 
 at F for an escapade about which she does not care to talk. 
 
 In the institution she is noisy, and in the way; with us she is 
 far too familiar and says anything that passes through her head. 
 One day when we had made her believe that she could not so 
 
 FIG. 6. PROFILE OF LARAZfi. 
 
 quickly get away, she became over-excited. "I am going to 
 
 write to Judge M. X to let me have my liberty, and if he 
 
 doesn't give it to me I will do him harm, or I will kill myself, 
 but I'll harm him first. Rather than live in misery like they 
 make me live here I'll break everything, I'll pick up anything 
 I can lay hands on, to strike him in the mouth. Give me paper 
 
22 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 SO I can write to him." It required the greatest effort to calm 
 her and to prove to her that saying such stupid things to the 
 judge would be a very poor way to obtain her freedom. She seems 
 at such moments, incapable of reasoning. It is an intelligence 
 which does not resist emotional stress, she is like a compass 
 which the storm has turned so that it no longer points true; 
 it is here in these disorders of intelligence produced by frequent 
 emotions that we must look for a definition of the state known 
 under the name of mental instability. 
 
 It can thus be seen from this simple enumeration through 
 how many shades the rebellious character passes. In regard to 
 this it is curious and even important to remark that the resist- 
 ance of subjects to the tests does not show itself with the same 
 violence for all. There are certain ones which they always 
 refuse to do, and others to which they submit more willingly. 
 In this they resemble normals. A normal, ordinarily very un- 
 willing, submits to any test which appeals to his vanity. There 
 ai'e many who consent to read out loud but who are not willing 
 to sing, etc. With imbeciles, we have noticed the following 
 facts : the most rebellious do not in general refuse to do the tests 
 which require no effort, like naming a color or a piece of money; 
 they do not refuse to judge weights or lines; they do not refuse 
 to copy a figure with a pencil. But tests which require an effort, 
 for example to repeat figures, or better still, those which require 
 an effort of invention, as finding the most words possible in three 
 or five minutes, are repugnant to them. 
 
 But since the tests requiring the most effort and containing the 
 most serious difficulties belong to the higher degrees' of our 
 scale of intelligence, an important consequence for the measure 
 of intelligence results, which is that the rebellious are likely to 
 respond only to the lower tests and are therefore judged less 
 intelligent than they really are. The character which is rebel- 
 lious, sulky, sullen, in a word who is unwilling to submit to our 
 psychological tests, produces the effect of an apparent abase- 
 ment of intellectual level and causes us to underestimate such 
 individuals. 
 
 Let us now pass to the docile group; they are perhaps less 
 varied than the rebellious. First notice Denise, a low grade 
 imbecile, a short little woman of twenty-five years with small 
 black eyes brilliant and mobile, who is extremely pleasant. The 
 
CHARACTER OF IMBECILES AND MORONS 
 
 23 
 
 moment she enters the office, she holds out her hand and begins 
 to laugh, showing her beautiful white teeth. She laughs at 
 everything and nothing; she is very docile, even affectionate. 
 The first time that she saw us she was less exuberant, more res- 
 pectful, wished to kiss the hand that we held out to her; little 
 
 FIG. 7. DENISE, IMBECILE OF LOW GRADE, AGE TWENTY-SIX YEARS. SHE 
 UNDERSTANDS LANGUAGE BUT DOES NOT SPEAK MORE THAN THREE OR 
 FOUR WORDS. INTELLECTUAL LEVEL OF TWO AND ONE-HALF YEARS. 
 
 by little she began to feel at home, got up and sat down as it 
 pleased her, laughed continually with an air of mockery, and on 
 one occasion became so familiar as to attempt to tickle us under 
 the chin. But if strange visitors enter the room where we are, 
 she immediately collects herself, remains in her chair without 
 saying anything, watches them seriously, even with some dis- 
 
24 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 trust, and does not abandon herself to her halntual foolish laughter 
 before them even when encouraged to do so. 
 
 Victor, a middle grade imbecile of fifty, has more gravity, 
 especially in the beginning, but is equally docile. Little by lit- 
 tle he grew familiar with us, to the point of losing his sense of 
 propriety; at the end of the second interview, seeing that one 
 of us asked him difficult questions, he addressed his questioner 
 
 FIG. 8. DENISE MIMICKING SHE IMITATES, WHILE LAUGHING, ALL THE 
 GESTURES THAT ONE MAKES IN FRONT OF HER. 
 
 in these terms, 'Hoi ficelle'^ and seeing that we laughed he ac- 
 quired the habit of this familiarity. Another time we asked him 
 to notice and afterwards to recount all that we had done before 
 him. This game amused him; on seeing us take from the table 
 an object which we ostentatiously put in our pocket, he sprang 
 forward seizing our arm and crying, ''Tai vu, ficelle, .... 
 Toute au clou," and similar expressions. In spite of these tran- 
 sient familiarities he remains always respectful and perfectly 
 willing to try our experiments. 
 
CHARACTER OF IMBECILES AND MORONS 
 
 25 
 
 The deference of Albert is still more marked, and he is one of 
 our most brilliant imbeciles. We have never found a more docile 
 school boy, nor one more submissive. Never a movement of 
 impatience, an expression of weariness nor fatigue. Albert 
 would be a model laboratory subject, such as foreign psychological 
 laboratories made a specialty of some time ago. 
 
 Finally a moron. Griffon, carries his willingness to the point 
 of servilitv. 
 
 FIG. 9. VICTOR, IMBliOim OF FIFTY-THREE YEARS, WHO HAS THE 
 INTELLECTUAL LEVEL OF A CHILD OF FIVE YEARS. 
 
 It must not be thought that deference is necessarily a sign 
 of good will or of altruism. We are informed that Griffon, so 
 docile with us, is a frank egotist in his family. When one of his 
 relatives comes to see him at the institution, he immediately 
 holds out his hand to the new arrival to take what has been 
 brought for him. 
 
 Docility and rebelliousness take on an abnormal character only 
 when they are in excess. Docility and rebelliousness are pri- 
 
26 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 marily social qualities, because they manifest themselves when 
 an individual enters into relation with his kind, and they have 
 someone outside themselves for their principal object. The 
 equivalents of these qualities are found among the majority of 
 people; they are qualities which should be considered normal. 
 Among ordinary individuals they may often be the result of 
 calculation or after-thought, or they may manifest themselves 
 chiefly in response to certain persons or certain events. Our 
 observation of defectives shows us that, although these qualities 
 may vary somewhat a,ccording to the individuals and the occa- 
 sions which are the exciting causes, they correspond to the gen- 
 eral disposition, giving the tone to all the reactions of the indivi- 
 dual; they have therefore a deep source and a fundamental char- 
 acter. In a word, it is not toward a certain person that the 
 
 idiot M is snappish and ugly, she is that toward all 
 
 and in a perfectly constant way. Albert — — , on the contrary, 
 is charming toward everybody although he may have a particular 
 fondness for certain persons. 
 
 We notice that these social feelings are distinctive among de- 
 fectives only on account of their strength; and it is this which 
 marks them subnormal. There are docile and restive persons 
 among those with whom we rub elbows every day of our lives, 
 but they hold their feelings in better control than do the imbeciles. 
 We cited a short time ago the young idiot who did not even look 
 at us but broke everything that came in her way. This degree 
 of turbulency has in itself something abnormal. A school child 
 who acted thus with his master, who neither obeyed nor listened, 
 who laughed at authority, who was ugly with his comrades, 
 would be looked upon as an abnormal, incorrigible child. At 
 this moment the public schools are trying to rid themselves of 
 such children by sending them to special classes. In the same 
 way the extreme docility of certain subjects is characteristic 
 of the typical defectives. One must be an imbecile to carry 
 amiability beyond certain limits, but since excess in this line 
 does not annoy others, it is not so often noticed; thus in the 
 school no one ever complains that a child is too docile; and prob- 
 ably this excess of docility is often taken for application to work, 
 and is favorably judged as a sign of attention. Here again the 
 study of the defective brings each thing to a focus, and permits 
 us to see in the excess of the quality a sign of abnormality. 
 
CHARACTER OF IMBECILES AND MORONS 27 
 
 As a conclusion to all these observations, we must admit that 
 there is no relation between these different types of character 
 and any certain mental level. We find rebellious and also docile 
 beings at every degree of defectiveness. 
 
 This proposition is contrary to an idea which is actually very 
 widespread. A contemporary has defined "idiot" as an extra- 
 social being and "imbecile" as an anti-social being. These are 
 curious and suggestive definitions which have been so success- 
 ful that they have passed from the medical domain to the do- 
 main of philosophy. One finds them today reproduced in some 
 classic manuals of philosophy, which gives them indeed supreme 
 sanctity. In our opinion the truth is less simple than this. 
 
 An extra-social being is one who lives on the margin of society 
 because he is incapable of adapting himself to it. It is clear 
 that idiots are more extra-social than imbeciles, because their 
 intellectual level is lower. But social adaptation is not in any 
 sense a faculty; it is a result; and that result depends upon many 
 factors besides that of intellectual level. These factors are: 
 the surroundings, the famity, the financial condition, etc. We 
 have met a low grade imbecile who was nearly capable of adapt- 
 ing himself for he earned a franc a day blowing the bellows of 
 a forge; while some imbeciles of higher grade, and consequently 
 much more intelligent, could not gain a Livelihood for themselves. 
 In that which concerns the quality anti-social, we shall make 
 not only some reservations, but some criticisms upon the appli- 
 cation of this term to the imbecile alone. This is a quality which 
 depends upon character; it consists in being rebellious and even 
 harmful, but we believe and we have demonstrated, that among 
 imbeciles there are quite as many docile as rebellious ones, and 
 that these individuals do not deserve therefore to be classed as 
 a whole and without distinction among the anti-social. The 
 character has no relation to the intellectual level. 
 
 One day there was a discussion in regard to a piece of decora- 
 tion to be placed in a public square. No agreement could be 
 reached. An architect came upon the scene and said, "Nothing 
 is sometimes a good thing in architecture." This is equally 
 true in psychiatry. In the place of these beautiful expressions 
 of extra-social and anti-social, we shall put nothing; there is 
 nothing to put. 
 
II. ATTENTION CONSIDERED FROM THE POINT 
 OF VIEW OF ITS CONCENTRATION 
 
 Many erroneous statements have been made in regard to the 
 attention of defectives. Some have claimed that the idiot is 
 absolutely lacking in attention, that he is an imbecile without 
 attention, in a word, that it is the failure of attention which 
 produces the idiot. Other authors have objected to this. The 
 attention of idiots they say is not reduced to zero; there exists 
 a little, a very little to be sure, but there is more in the imbecile 
 and still more in the moron. 
 
 We shall treat this question of attention by a very different 
 method. We do not like these distinctions of little and much; 
 and we cannot see what advantages would be gained by prov- 
 ing that the attention is better among morons than among im- 
 beciles. This distinction is not false, but the idea is so vague 
 that it is scarcely worthy of an attendant in a hospital. We 
 shall endeavor to analyze the state of attention in idiots, imbe- 
 ciles, and morons, and we hope to be able to show the precise 
 characteristics by which the attention of an idiot — because he 
 undeniably has attention — differs from that of an imbecile. The 
 characteristic to which we shall attach the most importance is 
 that of the concentration of the attention. We shall ask our- 
 selves, (1) Can the attention of this subject be excited, awakened, 
 and fixed upon a particular point? (2) Can this attention 
 once attracted be held for a certain time? (3) If a cause of 
 distraction occurs, and the attention is diverted, can it spon- 
 taneously return to the first object which it quitted? (4) Can 
 it even resist the cause of distraction, and remain fixed upon the 
 same object, in spite of all influences which would turn it aside? 
 These are the four degrees which we shall study, and which cor- 
 respond to an ever higher and higher organization of the attention. 
 
 Let us being with idiots. We shall again mention Vouzin , 
 
 the young idiot of twenty years in whom we have especially studied 
 the phenomena of attention during a whole sitting. We have 
 said before that his character is docile. Except on very rare 
 
 28 
 
CONCENTRAnON OF ATTENTION 29 
 
 occasions he shows no resistance to the orders given him. But 
 what can he do in the way of attention? 
 
 Let us consider him as he is seated by our side. He is not at 
 all attentive, he does not look at us. His glance wanders from 
 one object to another without fixing itself upon any. Vouzin 
 resembles a person who is waiting for his turn in the reception 
 room of a doctor or dentist, and remains in almost absolute 
 idleness, the attention relaxed, the look wandering. From time 
 to time, there is produced in him a brief act of attention without 
 our intervention. For example: we turn before him the handle 
 of a music box, which produces a strong grinding sound. Greatly 
 perplexed by the sound, Vouzin seizes the music box and turns 
 the handle as he has seen us do in order to produce the same 
 sound, but very soon abandons this. When we wish to again 
 attract his attention, we have considerable trouble. He does 
 not look at us when we call. We are obliged to shout, to make 
 violent gestures in order to attract his attention which is ex- 
 tremely fleeting. His look rests upon us for a moment, then 
 we continue to call and gesticulate in vain. Vouzin looks over 
 our shoulder into the depths of the court where absolutely nothing 
 is going on. Another example: we give Vouzin a biscuit and 
 let him eat a part of it, then we take it away and holding the 
 end of the biscuit in our hand under his nose, we walk backwards. 
 Quite naturally Vouzin looks at the biscuit and follows it, tak- 
 ing a few steps and making a little guttural cry, but very soon his 
 look wanders; he fixes it elsewhere and acts as though he had 
 forgotten the biscuit. It is not even a passing distraction; he 
 goes elsewhere, and bothers himself no more about us, nor does 
 he return to us. On the contrary we are obliged to go and hunt 
 him, to put the biscuit again under his nose to make him con- 
 sent to look at it. If he were normal, this falling off of atten- 
 tion might be explained by preoccupation or distraction or by 
 a particular attitude. Show a biscuit to a school-boy, and then 
 move away and it is not likely that he would follow you. Even 
 a normal boy of the primary school would be a little ashamed to 
 follow you, thus showing that he was obeying a gluttonous de- 
 sire. But it is evident that Vouzin is not held back by any com- 
 plex motive. This is the advantage of these inferior brains that 
 all secondary and disturbing factors are suppressed in them. 
 For this reason the psychology of the idiot would be so profitable 
 
30 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 if one could fathom it. It is evident that Vouzin shows no sus- 
 tained attention even for that which is of most interest for him, 
 food. He acts in a more senseless manner than a dog to whom 
 one shows a lump of sugar. The dog, if he is fond of sugar, 
 stops and looks at it; it does not hold his attention indefinitely; 
 now and then he turns his head, looks elsewhere as though he 
 had a moment of distraction, or need of rest, but soon his look 
 comes back spontaneously to the lump of sugar. With the. 
 animal there is a particular orientation of the attention which 
 persists in spite of its temporary lapses. It is this persistence 
 that Vouzin lacks. Strictly speaking, it is not a fault of memory, 
 that is to say a fault of reproduction after an interval of forget- 
 fulness; it is a more elementary process, consisting in the per- 
 sistence of a direction. It is a question of always returning to 
 the same state, of following the same direction, and Vouzin 
 cannot do it. 
 
 We find in him therefore a weakness of the power of attention, 
 which manifests itself by the following signs; it is difficult to 
 arouse his attention, and more difficult still to hold it. We 
 may say that he attains the first degree of concentration of the 
 attention with very little fixation. 
 
 A means of reinforcing the attention of an idiot. Nevertheless, 
 quite by chance we encountered a situation where Vouzin gave 
 us quite prolonged attention instead of forgetting us. This is 
 true when we give him orders to execute. We have said before 
 that he executed the order to sit down when shown a chair with 
 an imperious gesture. We complicate the orders by putting 
 five or six chairs in a circle. Then standing like an animal tamer, 
 we give our orders with a gesture of the hand, and Vouzin seats 
 himself successively in all the chairs. He shows no desire to 
 resist, and goes the round of the circle of chairs three or four times, 
 which makes him repeat the act of sitting some fifteen times. 
 But we are obliged to give him an order before each act; if we 
 do not renew the gesture, he remains seated and does not get 
 the idea of taking the next chair. We remark again how much 
 his dociHty depends upon the intensity of the gesture. If we 
 are two meters from him or if we are seated, circumstances which 
 obviously diminish the energy of our order, Vouzin does not 
 execute it. 
 
 In this connection we recall having proved some time back 
 
CONCENTEATION OF ATTENTION 31 
 
 that when a suggestion to a hysteria patient is given in a soft 
 voice, or with only a slightly imperative word, the order is only 
 partially executed. 
 
 It can thus be seen that the mental relation estabUshed be- 
 tween Vouzin and ourselves is prolonged when we cause him 
 to execute successive acts in a series. This is a means of exerting 
 a power over his intelligence. This resembles the pedagogical 
 procedure of La Martiniere who keeps the pupil moving in order 
 to make him attentive.^ 
 
 It is undeniable that the imbecile and the moron are more 
 attentive to us, to our gestures, and above all to our words than 
 the idiot is, and this is easily explained. They understand our 
 words, while an idiot does not. The principal indication, wholly 
 external, of this difference in the power of attention is that the 
 imbecile is capable of assuming the attitude of a well-behaved pupil 
 in school. He hstens when we speak to him, remains seated, 
 often looks at us with deference; remains at our disposal, and 
 does what we ask of him; with this condition, it must be under- 
 stood, that in character he belongs to the docile type. This 
 external difference between the idiot and the imbecile, does not 
 strikingly manifest itself unless one has taken pains to isolate 
 the subject in a room where the causes of distraction are not 
 numerous. Let us say first of all that the attention of the im- 
 becile is more easily aroused and sustained than that of the idiot. 
 This is the translation into psychological language of this obser- 
 vation which we have just made upon the attitude of a well 
 behaved pupU. Let us suppose now that a cause of distraction 
 is produced. A door opens while we are talking with our imbecile 
 and a person enters the room. Or perhaps an attendant passes 
 in the court before us. What becomes of the attention of our 
 imbecile? The result depends upon his intellectual level. Denise 
 is a low grade imbecile. She understands well enough what we 
 say although she scarcely knows how to talk. She is very at- 
 
 ' Thus a multiplication is given to a class to do on their slates. As soon 
 as each pupil finishes, he leaves his place, goes to the desk, shows his slate 
 to the professor, who tells him if his result is correct or false; all those 
 whose results are correct line up on the right, those incorrect on the left. 
 These comings and goings, which have the sanction of the intellectual 
 work, augment its interest and hold the mind active, on the condition of 
 course that the change of place is not permitted to be the occasion of 
 disorder. 
 
32 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 tentive in general to all that we say to her, but her attention is 
 of short duration. For instance the window offers an attraction 
 for her. She never fails to turn her head as soon as the door of 
 the ofl&ce opens. She wishes to see who enters, and in that case, 
 she forgets us, because after having looked at the door her atten- 
 tion does not retui-n to us. This is a lack of good manners of 
 which she is wholly unaware. It is for the same reason that she 
 vigorously scratches her head, and puts all the fingers possible 
 in her nose, even in our presence. Does she belong to the idiot 
 class? No, not altogether, because even though her attention 
 is fleeting and without spontaneous return, one can easily enough 
 govern this attention, and make it return to its point of depar- 
 ture. Denise passes quite easily the first two degrees of attention. 
 
 Nothing is more variable than the adaptation which attention 
 presupposes. But we believe in a general way that the four 
 degrees which we have just distinguished are a measure of in- 
 tellectual level. Thus we have distinctive characteristics with 
 a definite meaning upon which it is possible to agree; while such 
 expressions as "little attention," "much attention" which we wish 
 to abolish, have so to speak no precise sense at all. 
 
 Finally; the species of attention which we have just studied, 
 might be called social attention. It is this which we try to arouse 
 and which has for its object ourselves, our personality. We 
 have not spoken of attention to food, nor of a host of other species 
 of attention, because we have made our observation and experiment 
 only in our office, and because to have studied other species of 
 attention would require a larger field of observation. It will 
 suffice here to note the difference between the two questions. 
 We have established a hierarchy in the concentration of atten- 
 tion; we can establish similarly a hierarchy among the objects 
 which provoke and retain the attention, according as the acts 
 which result are more or less useful to the individual or to the 
 species. It is from this last point of view that in general one 
 must judge if a person has or has not attention. When the ob- 
 ject of his attention is frivolous, one says that he is not attentive. 
 A school boy who passes his time catching flies is very justly 
 called inattentive; he is attentive to the flies, but not attentive 
 to the lesson which would be infinitely more profitable to him 
 if he listened to it. One judges also of the attention of a per- 
 son according to the difficulty of the acts of attention of which 
 
CONCENTRATION OF ATTENTION 33 
 
 he is capable. Attention to ideas, or more properly speaking 
 reflection, is more difficult than attention to external objects 
 and consequently the mathematician, attentive to his problem 
 of calculation, appears to us to exercise greater attention than 
 the booby who with open mouth looks at what is going on in 
 the street. We have made a special point of recalling these 
 distinctions and phenomena, to show that the appreciation of 
 the degrees of attention, and a hierarchy of these degrees is not 
 a simple thing, and that in this work on defectives we have only 
 had in view a single one of the numerous distinctions which might 
 be made. This one which we have proposed on the different 
 degrees of concentration of attention, seems to us one of the most 
 convenient to follow in a rapid study made upon the intelligence 
 of defectives. 
 
III. VOLUNTARY EFFORT 
 
 The thing which dominates the whole question is that defectives 
 are incapable of voluntary effort in every domain; imbeciles can 
 remain attentive, but it is an attention which is not acute nor 
 very active. When it requires more than an attitude of atten- 
 tion, one sees that they cannot succeed. Their faces, moreover, 
 never express effort, and their brows have no vertical wrinkles. 
 Among the tests which put in clear light this incapacity for 
 strong attention, we shall study: 
 
 1. The time of reaction, where the voluntary effort consists 
 in replying as quickly as possible to a signal. This is a volun- 
 tary psycho-motor effort. 
 
 2. The tests of quickness of movements, with the voluntary 
 effort of moving as quickly as possible. 
 
 3. Tests consisting in calling up the greatest possible number 
 of words, tests where the voluntary effort bears upon the power 
 of calling up ideas. 
 
 4. The immediate repetition of figures, where one makes a 
 voluntary effort to retain in the memory elements which are 
 fleeting. 
 
 One could devise many other tests where the effort of attention 
 would be shown; for example, the operation with money, cal- 
 culation, or the simple act of counting backwards; but we have 
 eliminated these tests, because they presupppose a certain 
 degree of instruction, and one could not make them with all 
 defectives. Those which we have chosen have the advantage 
 of being suitable for the most ignorant of ignoramuses. 
 
 Every voluntary effort sets two factors at work; for the pres- 
 sure of the dynamometer, there is the force of contraction of the 
 muscles, and there is the effort of will; in the same way, for the 
 calling up of words, the number of words found depends at the 
 same time upon the extent of the vocabulary, and the effort put 
 forth. One could say the same of the repetition of figures; the 
 memory of figures works with the effort of attention. It results 
 from this that the total result does not depend solely upon the 
 
 34 
 
VOLUNTARY EFFORT 35 
 
 factor of voluntary effort. If for example a person has a good 
 memory for figures he could repeat a great number without being 
 obliged to make an effort. Thus an isolated experiment of a 
 single kind would be difficult to interpret and one would be in 
 doubt as to what part each of the two factors played. To guide 
 this interpretation it is necessary to explore the voluntary effort 
 in several different fields, muscles, speech, memory. It is thus 
 that one arrives at the realization that a defective is incapable 
 of an intense and continued voluntary effort. 
 
 Posing for a Photograph. Let us begin by citing a very simple 
 observation. We wished to photograph most of our subjects 
 in order to have more examples and we attempted to pose them. 
 A person that can be posed for a photograph must be capable 
 of some slight effort, since it is necessary to keep the body mo- 
 tionless during several seconds. Not all of our imbeciles are 
 capable of remaining motionless and we were obliged to make 
 snap shots for the lowest grade cases. As for the idiots, it was 
 of no avail to tell them to keep quiet, not to stir — they did not 
 obey the command. Middle grade imbeciles like Victor and 
 Cretin, and the high grade imbecile, Albert, could keep a re- 
 markable immobility of body; they showed only a slight tendency 
 to move the eyes; their glance wandered from right to left, as 
 though that was the part of the body most difficult to render 
 immovable. 
 
 This little observation of a photographer only shows the diffi- 
 culty which our defectives have in making an effort. Now we 
 give more demonstrative and particularly more analytical exam- 
 ples. 
 
 The quickness of movement. Quickness is a motor quality, 
 in which the effect of attention is best seen. It is for this reason 
 that we have chosen it as a means of measuring the attention. 
 The instrument which we use is simply a music box which one 
 plays by turning a handle. Fifty turns are necessary to produce 
 the complete melody. One listens, watch in hand, and the 
 time divided by 50 gives the necessary time for one revolution; 
 it is very convenient and quite inexpensive. Slight preliminary 
 exercises proved to us that one can with a little effort turn the 
 50 revolutions of the handle in 10 seconds, which makes the time 
 for one revolution two-tenths of a second. 
 
 With our defectives we are obHged to encourage them con- 
 
36 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 tinually. We repeat a great number of times, "faster, faster." 
 The duration is constantly longer than among normals, being 
 from 15 to 30 seconds. They have never reached the record 
 of 10 seconds. Besides if the handle is turned so that the same 
 air is repeated several times they do not gain in speed. Thus 
 Cabussel gives the following succession of periods; 17", 20", 
 23", 20". Even if we admit that the duration of 23" was pro- 
 duced accidentally by an awkward movement, it is none the 
 less true that he loses in speed instead of gaining. The same 
 observation holds good for Duneize 14" 14,", 18", and it is, 
 moreover, easy to explain. It is not likely that the cause is fatigue 
 so much as it is lack of emulation. It does not interest them to 
 turn the handle; they do not put into it any "amour-propre" 
 as a normal would willingly do. Never have we heard an imbecile 
 make a joyous exclamation, nor utter a word which indicated 
 in him the desire to succeed. In this indifferent attitude one 
 sees in strong relief their inability to give themselves wholly 
 to any experiment. Imbeciles are not sports. 
 
 Time of reaction. When one wishes to make rapid reactions 
 in from ten to twelve hundredths of a second, it does not suffice 
 to remain sitting passively awaiting a signal; one must picture 
 to one's self the signal before it is given; one must also prepare 
 one's muscle, and put it in a state of tension. All this prepara- 
 tion, at once the ideational and motor — thanks to which one is 
 like a charged cannon on the point of exploding — demands a 
 great effort, and this effort is painful. One cannot maintain 
 it long; there are successive oscillations in the attention thus 
 over-stimulated; now it is fixed, now it relaxes. Let us see how 
 our defectives behave. Albert has great diSiculty in under- 
 standing that he must close his eyes, wait for the signal and make 
 his movement in response to the signal as quickly as possible. It 
 was necessary to repeat to him each time "raise your hand," 
 (so that he would be ready to respond) "close your eyes," "pay 
 attention." He held the lever waiting for the response with 
 the greatest awkwardness, and many reactions had to be dis- 
 carded because he did not succeed in shutting off the current. 
 The most striking feature in this series of reactions is that they 
 are extremely long. They attain an average of 50 hundredths 
 of a second, while the reaction of a normal adult requires only 
 from 15 to 20 hundredths. We did our best to excite Albert, 
 
VOLUNTARY EFFORT 37 
 
 scolding him and ordering him to go faster. All our attempts 
 were useless, and failed to obtain any appreciable increase of 
 speed. His attention has therefore much less strength than 
 one would have believed. He has the physical attitude of volun- 
 tary attention, and in external appearance he resembles an at- 
 tentive pupil. But a school child has a more rapid reaction 
 time. So what characterizes the attention of an imbecile is 
 that it has the outward semblance, and a certain duration, since 
 it may continue during several hours. What is lacking is depth. 
 "W - h the moron Griffon we encountered in the beginning the 
 same difficulties of explanation. In the first experiments some- 
 times he would react before the signal; again, when it was given 
 he would not attempt to react until a considerable time had 
 elapsed. And every time the same orders had to be given, "raise 
 the hand," ''close the eyes," "attention," but after a time he 
 adapted himself and made more rapid reactions than Albert. 
 Here is the series: 
 
 105 
 
 30 
 
 20 
 
 anticipated 
 
 28 
 
 46 (Faster!) 
 
 160 
 
 40 
 
 18 
 
 anticipated 
 
 40 
 
 22 
 
 72 
 
 45 
 
 17 
 
 anticipated 
 
 50 (Faster!) 
 
 26 
 
 anticipated 
 
 24 
 
 32 
 
 forgotten 
 
 43 (Faster!) 
 
 33 
 
 120 
 
 19 
 
 43 
 
 29 
 
 20 
 
 
 These last figures tend to approach those of normal subjects. 
 We remark in passing that Griffon is able when required, to make 
 an effort of acceleration. If one says "Faster!", the following 
 reaction is always shorter. Albert does not succeed in this. 
 
 Supplementary to the experiments made with Albert and 
 Griffon, let us give that which we made with the young Beauvisage. 
 She had in her hands the same apparatus; the same means were 
 taken to prepare her, we gave her the same explanations repeat- 
 ing them a great number of times. 
 
 Here is the series of reactions that were obtained: 
 
38 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 75" 
 
 neglect 
 
 anticipated 
 
 1'45" 
 
 1'15" 
 
 2' 
 
 65" 
 
 anticipated 
 
 4' 
 
 52" 
 
 1' 
 
 4' 
 
 anticipated 
 
 4' 
 
 4'50" 
 
 neglect 
 
 neglect 
 
 3' 
 
 These singular results have but one point of interest which 
 is to show how the rebellious type of imbecile behaves. One 
 would commit a singular error in supposing that Beauvisage 
 gives here all the attention of which she is capable, and in ac- 
 counting for her slow reaction by her intellectual level. The 
 comparison with Albert prevents this error. These are the re- 
 actions of a sullen girl and not of an imbecile mentality. Fur- 
 thermore we have been able to assure ourselves of this by the 
 following means. The experimenter who had taken the series 
 of reactions cited above was replaced by another whose age and 
 familiarity with the technique gave him greater advantage. 
 The times of reaction obtained by him were better, and this 
 proves, let it be said in passing, that in certain cases the personality 
 of the experimenter influences the rapidity of the reaction of a sub- 
 ject. Here are some of these new reactions; they are about a half 
 minute while the preceding ones generally exceed two minutes. 
 
 46" anticipated anticipated 
 
 65" 43" 45" 
 
 There are no more cases of neglect and the time is very much 
 reduced. We cite these facts first because they show curiously 
 the influence of an attitude, and more than this they prove that 
 in spite of the precision of figures, the times of reaction, like all 
 other psychological measurements, have only a relative value. 
 
 On the whole the times of simple reactions are longer with 
 defectives than with normals, even when they thoroughly under- 
 stand the experiment and know what is wanted of them. This 
 proves that the times of reaction remain, in grave cases, a good 
 measure of the attention. 
 
 Calling up of the maximum number of words in a given time. 
 "You are going to say the greatest number of words possible; 
 you can say any words, the first that come to your mind, words 
 like hat, house, etc. I am going to give you the signal. 'Now.' " 
 
 After this explanation which one repeats several times in order 
 
VOLUNTARY EFFORT 39 
 
 to impress it, the normal subject can find in 3 minutes a hundred 
 words; the number varies as can be easily understood according 
 to a niunber of conditions. The principal of these are: First, a 
 general condition, good will, emulation, zeal, courage, etc. Second, a 
 more special condition, the extent of the vocabulary; this we learned 
 from extended investigation among normals. On the whole 
 this test is as good as the dynamometer, or the chronometer. 
 It measures the effort, but an effort bearing upon a special object, 
 the awakening of ideas. This is a sort of dynamometer of ver- 
 bal ideation. 
 
 How do our defectives behave? However lacking they may 
 be in intelligence, they possess in their heads more than two 
 thousand words, at least high grade imbeciles and morons do. 
 It might therefore be expected that they would easily pass this 
 test, which does not require great intelligence. Far from it, 
 however. They show the greatest possible signs of distress, and 
 thus demonstrate their inability to make the effort of ideation. 
 The effort which they cannot make with their muscles they can- 
 not make any better with their verbal imagination. 
 
 Note first Beauvisage, high grade imbecile, but rebellious in 
 character, who did not like this test at all. She could not bring 
 herself to hunt for words; she cited after us "picture" and then 
 added "table." That was the end. She declared that she could 
 find none. It was impossible to obtain another word even at 
 the end of 3 minutes. It is evident that this was a case of ill- 
 will and had nothing to do with the intellectual level. Albert, 
 high grade imbecile who is full of good will, did all in his power 
 to please us, but was unable to find more than 20 words in 3 
 minutes. He often repeated "I don't know any more," and 
 yet this was not because he was short of words, for if we carried 
 on the experiment for 6 minutes more he found 41, We inter- 
 pret this small number of 20 words as a proof of the weakness of 
 his voluntary power. 
 
 Duneize, middle grade imbecile, cited 18 words; she often 
 repeated the same ones (of which we kept no count). 
 
 Galiard, low grade moron, who was also very willing, but who 
 was intellectually apathetic, succeeded less well; in 3 minutes 
 she gives only 17 words. 
 
 Let us cite also Griffon, another moron, whose vocabulary is 
 well developed. We were not able to obtain from him more than 
 22 words. 
 
40 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 On the whole the number of words cited by our defectives is 
 inferior to that of normals. There are, however, exceptions. 
 One of these is Cabussel, a high grade imbecile of some thirty- 
 years. 
 
 Cabussel is microcephalic' 
 
 He is like the greater number of microcephalics, interesting 
 on account of the vivacity of his manners, and above all by his 
 loquacity. Whatever question is put to him, he enters im- 
 mediately, almost without reflection, into endless details which 
 generally are for the purpose of boasting of his own ability. 
 
 We had supposed that in spite of this abundant verbosity, 
 Cabussel would be incapable of calling up voluntarily a great 
 number of words. We were mistaken. He willingly accepted 
 om" invitation, and said to us with his habitual harmless vanity, 
 "Ah, that's what I know, words," and in fact he cited 30 in 3 
 minutes, which is a great number for an imbecile. We inter- 
 pret this result in the following manner: this test of calling up 
 words requires, as we have said, two factors, the extent of the 
 vocabulary and the voluntary effort. Cabussel probably exer- 
 cised no more effort than the other imbeciles but having a larger 
 vocabulary he easily found more words. His case once inter- 
 preted comes under the general rule. 
 
 Outside the small number of words cited there are other facts 
 which show that our defectives are incapable of an effort of 
 ideation. For example they give only names of ordinary ob- 
 jects, they often repeat the same word, and again, a very char- 
 acteristic circumstance, they search for their words by looking 
 about them and often name the objects they see, which is a sign 
 of poverty of ideation. 
 
 ' Although it is not a question of cephalometry in this article, we think 
 it useful to describe our method of estimating the development of the 
 head. Instead of citing the figures of the measurements, which signify 
 nothing, we substitute a comparison of the figures representing the normal 
 cranial development among children. Thus Cabussel, who is 1.685 m 
 in height, a little superior to that of the normal adult, has a normal face, 
 and a head equal in development to that of a child of seven years. It is 
 evident that this comparison with a child of seven is much more significant 
 than if we simply said: Cabussel has an anterior-posterior diameter of 
 168 millimeters, transversal of 137 millimeters, frontal of 97 millimeters, 
 biauricular of 122, and vertical of 126, etc. These figures mean nothing 
 without commentary. 
 
VOLUNTARY EFFORT 41 
 
 Memory for figures. This is the last of the tests which we use 
 to measure the capacity for effort. It will be remembered in 
 what this consists. A person repeats a series of figures, without 
 intonation or rhythm at a rate of two figures a second. Immedi- 
 ately after having been heard they are to be repeated in the order 
 given. One must go quickly for the memory of figures which 
 have no meaning is very fleeting. A normal subject, according 
 to the pains he takes, can repeat from 6 to 9 figures or even more. 
 Probably 7 is about the average number. 
 
 To this test defectives adapt themselves easily enough. They 
 understand that they must repeat the figures, and they do so 
 as soon as they are pronounced. Certain ones, nevertheless, 
 find difficulty in grasping the order. Thus Cabussel begins to 
 repeat each figure as soon as it is pronounced. If we explain 
 laboriously to him that that is wrong, that he must wait until 
 we have finished giving the series, before commencing the repeti- 
 tion, he responds by a prolonged silence, he allows precious time 
 to pass before beginning to repeat the figures. He often cannot 
 reproduce a single one. But Cabussel is an exception. In gen- 
 eral, imbeciles Hsten to us in silence and commence to repeat 
 the moment that we have finished. 
 
 What is the number of figures which they are capable of re- 
 peating? Although this test seems to demand but a slight de- 
 gree of intelligence, yet our defectives succeed very poorly with 
 it. According to our notes we find the results are very far from 
 brilliant; Denise (low grade imbecile), Victor (middle grade im- 
 becile), Beauvisage (high grade imbecile). Cretin (middle grade 
 imbecile), repeated in general only one figure, sometimes 2. 
 
 Albert and Lanerie (high grade imbeciles) repeat 4. Guliard, 
 Griffon, Birn (morons) repeat 5 or 6. Therefore, all without 
 exception are below normal. There almost seems to be a rela- 
 tion between the intellectual level of a subject, and the num- 
 ber of figures he can repeat. Victor (middle grade imbecile) 
 repeats fewer than Albert (high grade imbecile), and he in turn 
 fewer than Griffon who is a moron. More need not be said; all 
 our results confirm those given above and show again the in- 
 capacity for effort which exists among defectives. 
 
 As in other cases this incapacity betrays itself not only in the 
 weakness of the numerical results; it manifests itself by incidental 
 phenomena. Here are some of them. First the automatism 
 
42 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 of some repetitions. It is a common occurrence among normals 
 that when they forget a figure they have a tendency to replace it 
 by a figure of their invention which is the continuation of the 
 preceding. In repeating 3, 8, 2, 7, 5, if they hesitate after 2, 
 they have a tendency to cite a figure which will be 3, or 4 conse- 
 quently one nearer than 7 and betray a tendency to evoke the 
 figures in their natural order. Ziliez, one of our students, who 
 was the first to remark this tendency among normals, resorted 
 to complicated calculations and numerous documents in order 
 to make this clear. He would not have taken so much pains 
 with defectives, because with the latter the tendency to follow 
 the natural order is very much more marked; or rather, without 
 being stronger it is not corrected by the critical sense; one often 
 meets those who, after hearing a series like, 3, 8, 2, 5, 9, 4, say 
 to you with a naive seriousness, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 . . . . 
 and they insist when questioned, that they have repeated what 
 was just said to them. Do they believe it? Probably not, 
 but all this must be very vague in their minds. Another kind 
 of error, which frequently occurs among them, consists in for- 
 getting the first figures of the series. They repeat only the 
 last like echoes. With normal subjects the distribution of errors 
 is slightly different. It is the middle of the series which shows 
 the signs of weakness. The beginning and the end are better 
 retained. It has seemed to us that this difference is significant 
 and deserves an attempt at interpretation. Here is ours. To 
 recall the last words of a series heard is natural for the reason 
 that one word heard disperses those heard previously and the 
 last word covers all the rest. In order to remember the end 
 figures it is necessary only to remain passive. On the other 
 hand, if one wishes to recall the first figures one must struggle 
 against forgetfulness, and repeat the figures energetically to 
 oneself while the experimenter is saying others. This is a very 
 active exercise which a zealous normal subject readily performs. 
 Thanks to these supplementary repetitions, he succeeds in re- 
 viving the memory of the first figures. As to those of the middle, 
 he has not the time to revive them and cannot give them this 
 secondary help. Naturally, an imbecile who has less activity 
 and especially less ingenuity than a normal does not even dream 
 of employing this reinforcement of his first memories, and con- 
 sequently he loses them along with the middle of the series, 
 
VOLUNTARY EFFORT 43 
 
 retaining only the last, like an echo, because he does not actively 
 intervene to preserve them. 
 
 One may be astonished that some imbeciles, however incapable 
 of effort one supposes them, should be reduced to repeating a 
 single figure. Is this then a measure of their field of consciousness 
 for verbal repetitions? We disregard Beauvisage, who is rebel- 
 lious and could do better probably if she applied herself. But 
 Victor and Duneize are docile subjects. How does it happen 
 that when we recite three figures and they understand very well 
 what they ought to do they recite only one, the last, like an echo? 
 Evidently one does not need to be a psychologist to realize that 
 this monosyllabic repetition is a very small return. It is all 
 the more surprising because imbeciles are capable of spontaneously 
 making sentences of many more than one syllable. Victor 
 can make sentences of from 8 to 12 syllables; and as for Duneize, 
 when questioned about her home, she replied thus: 
 
 Q. From what country are you? 
 A. From the plain of St. Denis. 
 Q. Where do you live now? 
 A. In the plain St. Denis. 
 Q. What street? 
 
 A. By the red ball .... near the wine merchant .... 
 there is a great door, and then it is there. 
 
 Here is a collection of little sentences which contain at least 
 24 syllables, and it is difficult to understand how a subject who 
 is capable of constructing a sentence of such length should be 
 reduced to a monosyllabic repetition. This same Duneize who 
 repeats only one figure, can repeat a number of syllables when 
 they make sense. Here is a fragment of attempts made upon 
 her, as well for the memory of figures, as for that of sentences. 
 
 Words of the experimenter 
 
 Replies of the subject 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 4,7 
 
 7 
 
 4, 7 
 
 ca, 7 
 
 5, 8 
 
 8 
 
 Before? what did I say? 
 
 (Silence) 
 
 3, 9 
 
 9 
 
 Before? 
 
 (Silence) 
 
 5,1 
 
 1 
 
 shoe 
 
 shoe 
 
44 
 
 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 Words of the experimenter — Con. 
 I am cold, I am very hungry. 
 Ta poum 
 Racao 
 
 Pif Pouf Paf 
 Mac ferlan 
 2,3,9 
 6,7,4 
 6,2,8 
 
 I have a beautiful bird 
 I have a green frog 
 I have a red and blue Polichinelle 
 Do, mi, sol, do 
 
 Some coffee with milk and some 
 good chocolate 
 
 Replies of the subject — Con. 
 I am very hungry. 
 Ta pou 
 Racao 
 Pouf Paf 
 Mac ferlan 
 2, 3, 9, 
 (Silence) 
 8 
 
 Beautiful bird 
 Green frog 
 
 Red and blue Polichinelle 
 Do, mi, sol, do 
 
 Some good chocolate then some 
 coffee with milk. 
 
 These little attempts show us that our imbecile can repeat 
 sentences longer than two syllables. She even repeated 7 syllables. 
 In this case the sense of the words aided their retention. But 
 the figures have no meaning, they do not speak to the imagination; 
 they are absolutely forbidding. To retain them one must strug- 
 gle against their uninteresting character. In a word one must 
 make an effort, and this is always the point to which we return; 
 the defective is incapable of effort. 
 
 Conclusion. The results which we have just cited are almost 
 a confirmation of the experiments upon the effort of attention. 
 The utility of all this chronometry which the psychological labora- 
 tory has so much abused, has often and with reason been con- 
 tested. But nevertheless it remains well demonstrated that with 
 pathological cases of the nature of defectives these experiments 
 upon intensive and forced attention are of incontestable value 
 because they show the weakness of attention in a place where 
 it might have been least suspected. Our imbecile Albert, as 
 we have said, is the image of a perfect pupil, who listens motion- 
 less in his seat, and might be taken as a model for restless chil- 
 dren. At first sight he seems to be extremely attentive, but 
 this is only in appearance and quite superficial. The test upon 
 the time of reaction, among others, shows this clearly. The time 
 of reaction of a good pupil is from 12 to 15 hundredths of a second, 
 while that of our imbecile is 50 hundredths, which is an enor- 
 mous difference. This is not, by the way, pecuhar to Albert, 
 whom we take as an example. Griffon, a moron, has longer times 
 than a normal, although more rapid than Albert. This is easily 
 
VOLUNTARY EFFORT 45 
 
 understood; his times of reaction are better because he is more 
 intelUgent. These tests also show us that there is a certain 
 quahty in the intehigence which is distinct from those which 
 we have described above, such as excitation, fixation, resistance 
 to distractions and spontaneous returns. These are quahties 
 of the concentration of attention. There exists, besides, a more 
 intimate quahty, more effective, which may be called the in- 
 tensity or the depth of attention. It is indeed by the depth of 
 attention that our defectives differ the most from normals. This 
 is the decisive point, the thing which we have simply supposed 
 up to the present, which our tests first clearly bring to light. 
 
 What seems singular, when one thinks a little, is that all these 
 tests of effort of attention are difficult and even painful, but they 
 do not demand a particularly great intelligence; they are easy to 
 understand, and in any case, if one takes a little pains, one can 
 make them understood by imbeciles. Besides they do not 
 demand a great expenditure of judgment nor invention ; does it 
 require these, for instance, to turn a handle? Evidently not. 
 One might have supposed that the capacity for effort is distinct, 
 independent of the intellectual level, and that the most stupid, 
 the most limited being, is therefore capable of effort. 
 
 This would be an error, as we have just seen. Without attempt- 
 ing to explain anything, without even having the right to explain 
 anything, since we have not made a study of the intimate nature 
 of effort, we shall simply say that effort depends upon intellec- 
 tual level, and that for this reason, it is denied to defectives. 
 
 It is probable that in other pathological states, where the sub- 
 jects are recognized as incapable of effort, the genesis of the 
 phenomena would be entirely different; a state of fatigue for in- 
 stance, may render the effort impossible or ineffectual. Recent 
 descriptions have strongly insisted upon the relation of fatigue 
 to the absence of effort. Let us admit it. But remember that 
 these same facts may be explained in other cases in a quite differ- 
 ent manner, and that the impossibility of effort may be a direct 
 consequence of the lowering of the intellectual level. 
 
IV. MOVEMENTS— WRITING 
 
 After the psychogenesis of attention and of effort, let us attempt 
 to enter into that of movement, or rather into one particular act, 
 the very complicated act of writing. We may roughly conjec- 
 ture that this act, in proportion as it is executed by persons 
 more and more intelligent, will become more delicate, more pre- 
 cise, more conformable to the end proposed. It is curious to 
 find, that in working with a graded series of defectives we ob- 
 tain a series of hand-writings more and more complex, which 
 very much resemble those which can be obtained from a series 
 of normal children of different ages. This is curious, and in 
 practice it might be convenient for a diagnosis. If one is in 
 doubt as to the intellectual level of an imbecile, if one supposes, 
 for instance, that he could reply to questions but that he does 
 not reply because of a rebellious character, it would often be suffi- 
 cient to slip a pencil into his hand and to let him write, in order 
 to judge. Someone, perhaps Richelieu, said "With two lines 
 of a man's writing one could have him hung." We willingly 
 add, with a line of writing we can establish the intellectual 
 level even among those who do not know how to write. 
 
 We will begin with the idiot, Vouzin, who cannot pronounce 
 a single word. We give him a sheet of white paper and a shar- 
 pened pencil. He takes the pencil, which he holds awkwardly 
 in his right hand, but he has no hesitation in recognizing the 
 sharpened end of the pencil, and he uses only that end. He im- 
 mediately begins to scribble. He traces on the paper with an 
 incredible activitj^ great curvilinear movements, employing not 
 only his fingers, but his hand, and even his forearm. As soon 
 as he has finished we give him another sheet of paper; he com- 
 mences his work with the same animation and seems to take 
 the greatest pleasure in it. A specimen of his scribbling is repro- 
 duced in our figure 10 which represents about one quarter of 
 the page scribbled over. 
 
 At first sight there appears to be no plan, no directing idea in 
 the scribbling, and one might attribute it to a l^lind play of some 
 
 46 
 
MOVEMENTS — WRITING 
 
 47 
 
 physical phenomenon; but by looking closely one can see a trace 
 of adaptation. The movement in spite of its extent, remains 
 within the border furnished by the dimensions of the paper, and 
 though occasionally the line crossed the border, Vouzin never 
 attempted to make lines on the table upon which the paper rested. 
 Passing next to low grade imbeciles, we place a pen in the hands 
 
 FIG. 10. SCRIBBLING OF THE IDIOT VOUZIN ON A LARGE SHEET OF PAPER. 
 
 of Denise, and we ask her to write upon the white paper. She 
 traces no letter, no design, nothing but strokes all in the same 
 direction but without order. When her ink is exhausted, which 
 soon happens, she finds the ink well but dips her pen with so 
 little attention that it frequently passes outside without her 
 perceiving it. Figure 11 reproduces this elementary calligraphy. 
 It is not the simplest that could be imagined. We have seen 
 the scribbling of Vouzin, which is still simpler, and besides, Vouzin 
 probably could not have used a pen. The lines of Denise are 
 
48 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 better organized; they more nearly resemble writing. Notice 
 also that Denise does not cover one of her strokes by another 
 as Vouzin does. Note in passing that Denise can copy nothing; 
 a circle had been traced on her paper which she had been asked 
 to imitate but spite of a long insistence nothing was obtained but 
 little strokes, which she put like feet to the circle. 
 
 Gentil, a low grade imbecile, slightly superior to Denise in 
 that he pronounces more words, has also very rudimentary 
 writing. With a great deal of satisfaction, he traces zig-zag 
 lines with a pencil, the point of which he had first put in his 
 mouth. If a pen is given him, he makes the same design, hold- 
 
 
 r 
 
 FIG. 11. HANDWRITING OF DENISE, LOW GRADE IMBECILE. 
 
 ing the pen backwards, and pushing upon the point, without ever 
 taking more ink when the pen becomes dry. He continues thus 
 his zig-zag during a long time, although his pen traces no visible 
 line. One might imagine that his zig-zags are of the same rudi- 
 mentary character as the sweeping lines of Vouzin. But they, 
 differ by at least two characteristics; first they are formed of 
 short strokes which are quite regular, and in the second place 
 they do not cover one another. The lines are made in any direc- 
 tion but they do not cross each other. 
 
 With imbeciles of the middle grade we obtain scribblings which 
 more nearly resemble writing. Victor constantly carries about 
 
MOVEMENTS — WRITING 
 
 49 
 
 with him a soiled note book of 130 pages, which are methodically 
 covered by horizontal lines of small zig-zags, carefully made 
 from left to right; each page has at least some thirty of these 
 little lines; they are in order, fairly parallel, and none overlap- 
 ping. They are made with a pencil which is kept between the 
 
 ^ y K 
 
 FIG. 12. HANDWRITING OF GENTIL, LOW GRADE IMBECILE. HE KEEPS 
 WITHIN THE EDGES OF HIS PAPER. 
 
 pages of the book. Every page bears in addition a circle traced 
 by following the outline of a sou. We have begged and implored 
 Victor to make us a present of his note book or of at least one 
 page. He has refused with continued persistency. All that 
 he has consented to do, in order to be agreeable to us, has been 
 
50 
 
 • THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 to make a copy of one of the pages upon a sheet of paper which 
 we have furnished him. He traced the Unes with the gravitj^ of 
 a Minister of State. 
 
 <-/ 
 
 
 i'^^^ 
 
 /■ 
 
 ^'-7' 4^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 ff /> 
 
 f" 
 
 \- 
 
 .' 
 
 ' r 
 
 / 
 
 
 
 FIG. 13. A PAGE FROM THE NOTE BOOK OF VICTOR, MIDDLE GRADE 
 IMBECILE. 
 
 His writing is much superior to that of Gentil, to which one 
 should compare it for the two are somewhat similar. In the first 
 place the lines traced by Victor are constantly parallel, like the 
 lines of a manuscript, while those of Gentil are divergent and 
 go in every direction. Besides Victor is not limited to rudimentary 
 
MOVEMENTS WRITING 
 
 51 
 
 zig-zags; his seem like letters more or less well traced; e, u, and 
 p, can even be recognized. 
 
 Cretin is a young girl who belongs to the same degree of im- 
 becility as Victor. She does not take to writing like Victor 
 but she consented to do something for us. Her writing is not 
 
 
 FIG. 14. WRITING OF ALBERT, A HIGH GRADE IMBECILE. HE WISHED TO 
 WRITE HIS NAME AND A SERIES OF FIGURES. 
 
 unlike his, although it is more elegant and neater and is also 
 shaded; one can almost recognize the shapes of certain letters. 
 As can be seen, we approach constantly nearer to writing. 
 Duneize, high grade imbecile, when asked to write, traces one 
 after another the letters a, u, and n, that can be easily recognized. 
 
52 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 One would say it was a page belonging to a school child learning 
 to write. In the same way Albert traces figures or letters. Here 
 ends the history of illiterate writing. One degree more and we 
 have specimens of normal writing. 
 
 We have considered it worth while to publish with brief com- 
 ments these graphisms of defectives, because they clearly show 
 the evolution of the writing movement, which as it becomes 
 more and more organized approaches the normal movement. 
 But what is most remarkable in this series of graphisms is that 
 it reveals to us a law of evolution which governs not only the 
 movements but still more the ideas. We are not yet able to 
 fully understand that law, but we shall return to it later, and 
 formulate it as clearly as possible, when we treat of ideation. 
 For the moment it is sufficient to say that it constitutes a transi- 
 tion from the vague to the definite. 
 
V. INTELLIGENCE AND PERCEPTION 
 
 It is worth noting that idiots, who are not helpless, and who 
 can walk, move about without colliding with the furniture, which 
 proves that they are capable of perceiving distances and the 
 direction of nearby objects. The psychologist may be aston- 
 ished that processes so complex, so difficult to define as those of 
 spatial perceptions, should be capable of organization in the 
 nervous system of an idiot. This organization presupposes as- 
 sociations, sensations, comparisons, fine perceptions of differences 
 and of resemblances; think for a moment of the complicated 
 physiology of the eye alone that is necessary to the perception 
 of distance. There exists therefore a perceptive intelligence, 
 which, upon analysis, is found to be very complicated, but which, 
 nevertheless, may be developed among the lowest defectives, 
 so low indeed that they do not understand the meaning of the 
 simplest words. 
 
 From all this we may draw a first conclusion; since the intel- 
 ligence of language is not developed in idiots but only in imbe- 
 ciles, we have here the proof that the acquisition of language 
 is something very much more difficult than the intelligence of 
 perception. This is not surprising, however, if one recalls that 
 even animals have extremely fine perceptions; dogs, for example, 
 and carrier pigeons know so well the way to their home that a 
 special sense of direction is often attributed to them. 
 
 We are going to study this intelligence of perception among 
 ijnbeciles, availing ourselves of their ability to speak. We shall 
 employ a convenient and usual method, the investigation of the 
 sensibility, although we realize that, in spite of its classic charac- 
 ter, this method has serious faults. It transposes and alters the 
 phenomena to be studied. In reality we ask the subject to ex- 
 plain what he feels, and we force him to translate his state of 
 sensibility into words. But this verbal translation cannot give 
 us a faithful image of what that sensibility really is. In order 
 to know what it is, one must let it live. We must, in other words, 
 see what a subject does in the presence of a stimulus, and study 
 
 53 
 
54 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 the acts of adaptation which he executes in response to this 
 stimulus. This is quite another thing. It may happen that a 
 person plainly perceives some very slight stimulus, and that he 
 is incapable of explaining it or even of giving an account of it. 
 
 If the distinction which we have made seems subtle to those 
 whose study has been limited to normal subjects, the study of 
 the imbecile will quickly prove to them that this is a well founded 
 distinction. In the first place some of these defectives are so 
 low in intelligence that they understand nothing of what is asked 
 of them. How can we explain to Denise that she must speak 
 when we prick her, and must remain silent when we do not? 
 She is anxious to please but will reply at random, anything to 
 be agreeable, even though her state of sensibility may be normal, 
 which is by no means certain. Even high grade imbeciles do 
 not adapt themselves easily to investigations about their sensitivity. 
 
 Let us recall the case of Albert who is the gentlest, most defer- 
 ential, most docile imbecile that can be imagined. We begin 
 by asking him to close his eyes; he obeys immediately, closing 
 them with such energy that his face is all wrinkled. We graze 
 the back of his hand with a pen-holder and ask if he feels our 
 touch. He replies that he feels nothing. We continue increas- 
 ing the force of the contacts, and Albert still continues to affirm 
 that he feels nothing. 
 
 Q. Do I touch you? 
 
 A. Not at all. 
 
 Q. What am I doing to you? 
 
 A. Nothing. 
 
 Is this insensibility? One might think so. It is, however, 
 simply a misunderstanding, easy to produce with imbeciles. It 
 is sufficient to open Albert's eyes and to let him see that we 
 touch him to make his language change. 
 
 Q. Well now? 
 
 A. You are only using the head of a pin. 
 
 Q. Do you feel it? 
 
 A. A little. 
 
 Now, his eyes once more closed, he responds exactly as the 
 sensation is produced; he says "You touch me," and adds, when 
 we ask it, the localization of the contact, and it is nearly correct. 
 
INTELLIGENCE AND PERCEPTION 55 
 
 Q. But a little while ago we touched you, why did you say you felt 
 nothing? 
 
 A. I felt nothing. 
 
 It is impossible to obtain from him any other explanation. 
 
 We do not affirm that the difficulty is insurmountable, but it 
 exists nevertheless, and it is well to be on one's guard so that 
 errors may be avoided. 
 
 Before every sensorial experiment one must become master 
 of the intelligence of his subject; not only does an imbecile have 
 trouble in understanding, but, again, being very open to sug- 
 gestion, he will often reply out of desire to please. One must 
 therefore find experiments easy to understand and free from all 
 suggestion. If successful one perceives a very remarkable fact. 
 This is the contrast between the weakness of the intelligence which 
 we call verbal and social, and the delicacy of perception. Albert, 
 who knows his letters a little, easily lends himself to an examina- 
 tion of vision by means of an optometrical scale. He indicates 
 clearly at 5 meters, in the open air, 3 letters (out of 7 presented) 
 having the height of 7 mm. 
 
 Below we give several quite characteristic cases. 
 
 Take the experiment of weights and let us see what is the 
 slightest perceptible difference. We use boxes weighing 10 gr., 
 11 gr., 12 gr., 13 gr., 14 gr., 15 gr. These boxes are alike and 
 measure 24 millimeters. They do not rattle when they are 
 shaken. We present the boxes in the following order: 
 
 First series: 10-15, 10-14, 10-13, 1,0-12, 10-11. 
 
 Second series: 15-10, 15-11, 15-12, 15-13, 15-14. 
 
 The two series present increasing difficulties, the second being 
 the more difficult, for although the absolute differences of the 
 boxes are equal, the relative differences are smaller. Each time, 
 the two boxes are presented in such a way that the subject does 
 not perceive that one of them remains the same for all the pres- 
 entations. 
 
 For the perception of lengths of lines there are pairs of lines 
 placed end to end, traced in ink, that must be compared. The 
 absolute length varies from 5 to 35 centimeters, and the difference 
 varies from 0.5 to 0.1 cm. 
 
 What is the difficulty of appreciation which the comparison 
 of these lines and weights supposes? We shall take as the type 
 a normal subject of twenty-three years, a cook, whose social con- 
 
56 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 dition is consequently analogous to that of our hospital defectives. 
 This young girl compares all the lines without an error but finds 
 certain pairs extremely difficult, and often repeats, "They cer- 
 tainly are alike, those lines." She goes over the series twice. 
 In the test of the weights she runs over both series twice also. 
 She commits no error but in one case she refused to pass judgment 
 finding the difference too small to be perceived. She repeats 
 that the test is very difficult. The difference 14-15 grams seems 
 to be her limit, because we presented it to her five succeeding 
 times and out of five attempts she made one error and one refusal 
 to pass judgment. During the whole operation her attention 
 was very good. 
 
 We can therefore conclude from this experiment, which has 
 been confirmed by many others, that a normal subject of moderate 
 social condition, if not hurried, can by a great effort of attention 
 succeed in making all these comparisons correctly, but only by 
 paying strict attention and by not going beyond a certain limit, 
 15 to 14 grams — which causes her doubt, suspension of judgment 
 and even error. What do our defectives do? The manner in 
 which they generally undertake the comparison of weights does 
 not prepossess us in their favor. They show an awkwardness 
 of judgment in handling and in comparing them which is very 
 amusing. When the two boxes are handed them and they are 
 asked which is the heavier, certain of them without weighing 
 either put the finger upon one and say expressly, "This is the one 
 that is heavier." Then, naturally, we explain that they must weigh 
 the boxes before judging them. They obey; but let us examine 
 their manner of weighing. In the first place there are those who 
 seem to notice the weight less than the form. Duneize (middle 
 grade imbecile) looks curiously at the boxes, turns them over and 
 has more the appearance of measuring their size than seeing which 
 is the heavier. Others often raise only one box and that suffices 
 them for deciding that it is heavier than the other. Albert has a 
 manner all his own for weighing, which is to put the boxes side 
 by side in the same hand extended flat. It is not impossible — we 
 have ourselves verified it — ^to appreciate thus a difference of weight, 
 but this manoeuver does not facilitate the comparison, far from it. 
 One might therefore conclude that our defectives have a very 
 poor perception of weight. This is an error. We shall see that 
 nothing is so curious as the contrast between their awkwardness 
 
INTELLIGENCE AND PERCEPTION 57 
 
 in adapting themselves to a new experiment, and the cleverness 
 that certain ones of them show for the perception of very fine 
 differences. 
 
 Let us note the imbecile Cabussel. He has truly remarkable 
 skill in discovering sKght differences. We made him go twice 
 over the first and second series described above. In twenty- 
 three comparisons he made but six errors, of which three 
 were spontaneously corrected by him and should be elimi- 
 nated. There remain three errors, made on the couples 10-11, 
 10-14, and 10-15, two of which are among the easier series; 
 which proves that his was an error of pure inattention, since it 
 was not dependent upon the smallness of the difference to be 
 perceived. This subject, by the way, is very inattentive and we 
 should not have expected such delicacy of perception in him. 
 This delicacy is equal to that of a normal subject. This was 
 an unexpected, almost unbelievable fact. Is it unique? No. 
 The same observation applies to Albert. He was not submitted to 
 exactly the same procedure, as Cabussel; we contented ourselves 
 with making some tests with the weights 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15 
 presented in pairs so that the absolute difference was 1, 2, 3, or 
 4 gr. We took no account of the relative difference. Below we 
 sum up the results given by Albert. 
 
 Difference of weights No. of true perceptions in 10 trials 
 1 gr. 4 
 
 2gr. 8 
 
 3gr. 7 
 
 4 gr. 8 
 
 Each time Albert gave the weight putting his finger decisively 
 and unhesitatingly on the box which seemed to him the heavier. 
 It can be seen that he was able to perceive a difference of 2 
 grams when the weights varied between 10 and 15. This is a 
 little below normal, but considering his intellectual level the result 
 is altogether remarkable. 
 
 Let us pass to the comparison of lines — remembering that 
 they are traced in the continuation one of the other, and that 
 they occupy in consequence the right and the left of a white page 
 and that all are contained in a copy book. 
 
 Albert after explanation acted as though he perceived no dif- 
 ferences even the greatest. He was successively shown the 10 
 
58 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 pairs; first he indicated the line on the right as the longer, then 
 for the 9 other pairs he indicated constantly the line on the left. 
 It is evident that his attention is not awakened and that he re- 
 sponds mechanically; we explain to him his error. We tell him 
 that he must not always point to the same side that sometimes 
 the longer line is on one side and somecimes on the other, he must 
 look every time. After this explanation he solemnly points ten 
 times in succession to the lines on the right. New explanations 
 are given. We urge him sharply to compare. Again Albert 
 shows constantly the line on the right; he is seized with automa- 
 tism, nothing can be done. 
 
 We were more fortunate with Beauvisage, who is an imbecile 
 of the same grade as Albert. Out of 21 presentations she made 
 only three errors. This implies a truly remarkable accuracy 
 of perception. Later when we wished to repeat the experiment, 
 some obstacle had intervened. Was it that Beauvisage was 
 fatigued, or indisposed or distracted by some circumstance which 
 escaped us? We do not know; whatever the cause she was the 
 victim of the same automatism of the right side that we had 
 observed with Albert. During 20 presentations of pairs of lines 
 she indicated constantly those to the right. It is curious to 
 see such stupidity mingled with such fineness of perception. 
 Imbecility never abdicates. 
 
 In proportion as we take subjects of higher mentality, so much 
 nearer do we approach normality. Griffon, a moron, shows 
 a certain delicacy in the perception of slight differences of weights. 
 He does each of our two series twice, and fails only on the single 
 difference 14-15, exactly like our normal subject. All this goes 
 to show that in the experiments made upon the perceptions of 
 defectives, in order to estimate truly, one must recognize two 
 sorts of phenomena which manifest themselves at the same time 
 and complicate the situation, on the one hand, the perceptions 
 and on the other, inattention and automatism. We must make 
 a distinction between the perception and the disturbing element, 
 as one separates the precious almond from the bitter shell. If 
 one succeeds in doing this, he perceives that in all grades of de- 
 fectiveness the fineness of perception.equals, or nearly equals, that 
 of the normal individual. 
 
 Why is the intelligence of perception among defectives almost 
 equal to that of normals? This is a question easily asked but not 
 
INTELLIGENCE AND PERCEPTION 59 
 
 easily answered. Darwin's theory furnishes something of a 
 solution; the necessities of adaptation and the struggle for exist- 
 ence have produced this useful result; for in order to live it was 
 necessary that every being should know the surroundings to which 
 he tried to adapt himself; otherwise he would succumb and dis- 
 appear. But this solution is a very vague explanation and cer- 
 tainly cannot satisfy a psychologist who is amazed at the strik- 
 ing contrast between the intellectual level of the defective and 
 the acuteness of his perceptions. 
 
 We have ourselves proved, as anyone may prove for himself, 
 Jiow difficult it is to distinguish between 13 gr. and 15 gr. and 
 especially 14 gr. and 15 gr. One is perplexed and lacks confidence 
 in the accuracy of his own judgment. One cannot help asking 
 how this imbecile, who cannot even count the number of his 
 fingers, masters the difficult operation of comparison of weights. 
 
 We reply with- this hypothesis; the perception of a difference 
 of IT between two weights is a difficult operation, but it is also a 
 simple operation. It consists properly speaking in feeling and 
 recognizing a slight elementary sensation. There is no need of 
 superior processes, of critical sense, or of judgment; it requires 
 only that one be attentive for a moment, that every other idea 
 be dropped and the attention centered on the sensation, which 
 one seizes as it passes. The proof of this is that our normal sub- 
 jects oftentimes say "I dare not keep on testing the weights or I 
 become bewildered." In other words, intelligence is not necessary, 
 and one who is limited to sensation and attention does better. 
 This is why an imbecile who does not reflect nor try the weights, 
 succeeds so well. In any case, whether our interpretation be true 
 or false, there still remains this important fact observed years 
 ago by us among children, that the intelligence of perception 
 does not undergo any evolution comparable to that of the atten- 
 tion, of effort, or of language. It is much more precocious. 
 One is surprised to learn that an imbecile, so inferior in swiftness 
 of action, in repetition of figures, in holding himself motionless, 
 in squeezing a dynamometer, in short in all experiments requiring 
 effort, succeeds in the exact comparison of lines and weights which 
 seems to us normals very difficult. 
 
VI. THE SENSE OF PAIN 
 
 The study of the sensibility to pain is still more difficult than 
 that of general or special sensibility. Pain is more closely re- 
 lated to the personality than all other sensibilities. The in- 
 dividual is not indifferent to it, as to weak sensations of sight 
 and touch. Pain provokes more vivid feelings of apprehension, 
 fear, anger, or even courage, or bravado through vanity; and 
 all this contributes to form a special attitude of the subject in 
 regard to suffering. There is therefore, a distinction to be made 
 between pain and the personal attitude. When we study nor- 
 mals they reply to our questions, and can more or less give us 
 an idea of their feelings, but this is not the case with idiots or 
 imbeciles. 
 
 Let us first speak of what we have observed among idiots. 
 If one suddenly pinches the skin of the arm, he quickly draws 
 it back, often uttering a little cry, and draws back again if we 
 attempt to repeat the experiment. This is a natural reaction 
 like that of an animal whose tail has been stepped upon. This 
 reaction in the idiot is not hidden by a peculiar mentality, 
 determining him to take an attitude of bravado. In this respect 
 the reaction is very instructive in its brevity. 
 
 Let us go farther replacing this mild excitation of pinching 
 by an extremely painful one, that of burning. If we bring a 
 lighted match near to the nose or the hand of most idiots what 
 happens? Either they allow themselves to be burned without 
 doing anything, or they scarcely react to the pain. In any case 
 their reactions compared to those of a normal whose nose one 
 attempts to burn, are extremely moderate. What is the cause 
 of this difference? We see several possible causes. 
 
 1. The brain of the idiot is a diseased brain; it presents 
 lesions in keeping with the symptoms of paralysis and contrac- 
 tion which one encounters in the limbs. It is possible that the 
 idiot presents zones of analgesia and that we have stumbled 
 unintentionally upon one of these zones; the analgesia would 
 explain the weakness of their reactions. Evidently this is 
 
 60 
 
SENSE OF PAIN 61 
 
 possible, but scarcely probable, because in our multitude of 
 experiments upon different subjects we always obtain similar 
 results without a single exception. It is not probable that we 
 always, by chance, encounter a zone of analgesia. 
 
 2. The idiot assumes an attitude of courage. He does not react 
 because he controls himself. This interpretation seems to us 
 still more improbable. An idiot is not sufficiently intelligent, 
 we think, to assume such a complicated attitude. This is not 
 even worthy of discussion. 
 
 3. Pain is not simply a physical sensation; it is reinforced by 
 moral reverberation; physical pain calls up fear, disquietude, 
 the image of great danger, and it is all this contribution of the 
 imagination and of the feelings which gives to a painful sensation 
 its enormous volume. Suppose, as an hypothesis, that the 
 mental reinforcement of pain be suppressed in an individual, 
 would not such an individual be rendered almost insensible to 
 pain? And would this not be the case with idiots, who are in- 
 tellectually inert, incapable of anxiety, or of an act of imagina- 
 tion which exaggerates the pain? 
 
 This last hypothesis seems to us good as far as it goes and it 
 must have its part in the total explanation. The pain felt by an 
 idiot must evidently be insignificant. But let us not exaggerate. 
 There are cases where without psychic reinforcement, a pain is 
 intolerable. Let one attempt to burn the end of his nose with 
 a lighted match, and he will be quickly convinced. Animals 
 react with great force to pain of this kind without needing the 
 aid of imagination. We believe certainly that idiots are less 
 sensitive than animals. They feel pain but the weakness of 
 their reactions indicates slight development of the sense of pain. 
 They show at the same time poverty of imagination and poverty 
 of the sense of pain. 
 
 Let us pass on to imbeciles. We have tested four of these; 
 Denise, Cretin, Albert, Griffon. If one were satisfied with the 
 first results one would be led to conclude that the sensibility to 
 pain in Denise and Albert is extremely weak while that of Cretin 
 is on the contrary exaggerated. The facts, however, require 
 a closer study, by which it will be seen that the solution is much 
 more complex. The present study has no other purpose than 
 to show the difficulty of investigation and to analyze certain 
 attitudes of our subjects. 
 
62 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 Let US take first Denise, a low grade imbecile. We turn back 
 her sleeve to which she makes no resistance and even aids us 
 in so doing. We then roughly pinch her skin; she cries out, 
 evidently a cry of pain, jerks her arm away and moves away 
 from us. Immediately we call her back. She comes running 
 and again aids us with much interest to lift her sleeve, and allows 
 herself to be pinched. She utters a cry of pain and moves away. 
 Has she then forgotten the first experience, since she is so willing 
 for the second? We begin again; she comes running to our call 
 showing the same interest; she laughs and repeats comically 
 with her mimicry the gesture which we had made in calling 
 her to us; for the third time she lifts her sleeve, with the same 
 willingness, not offering to protect herself, seeming not to suspect 
 the least in the world that she is going to receive a painful sensa- 
 tion. The pinching takes place, she cries out and moves away. 
 This is very curious, we admit, very obscure. What is it that 
 happens in that little brain? We have made the test as many as 
 ten times and Denise always comes back eagerly, with the same 
 laugh, offering her arm to the slight pain of pinching. A mystic 
 would not march more bravely to martyrdom, but here there 
 can be no question of courage or of vanity put forth to brave 
 suffering. Denise is too gay, too laughing when she comes 
 running for one to suppose for an instant that she is using any 
 voluntary effort of control. In that case she would have a dif- 
 ferent expression. Can one say she is analgesic? It is possible, 
 at least in part, because we have plunged her hand in very hot 
 water, and we ourselves were forced to draw it out to prevent 
 serious burning. Moreover she has so little fear of flame that 
 she scarcely draws back when a lighted match comes in con- 
 tact with her nose; she even allows herself to be burned without 
 a word. On the other hand, her little cry on being pinched 
 shows that she has a certain amount of sensibility to pain. One 
 can also suppose that her lack of apprehension comes from her 
 inability to imagine in advance the pain of pinching which is to 
 be inflicted upon her. She foresees the pinching but not the 
 pain; it must be the memory of the pain that is lacking. All 
 these explanations are possible, and we even believe that all of 
 them contain a part of the truth. One must also take into ac- 
 count the childish character of Denise, she attaches importance 
 to nothing, she allows herself to be easily distracted. Her joy- 
 
SENSE OF PAIN 63 
 
 ous nature has the same result as an attitude of bravery; it covers 
 the perception of pain and prevents its reahzation. 
 
 To resume: our conclusion is here almost the same as with 
 the idiot. Weakness of the sense of pain, weakness of the mental 
 reverberation; there is also a third influencing circumstance, the 
 gay and careless character of Denise. Cretin, middle grade 
 imbecile, behaved altogether differently. In order to learn 
 her sensibility to pain, we raised her sleeve, slightly pinching 
 her arm. At first she seemed amused, and smiled; indeed it 
 was her first smile that day. Then when we attempted a second 
 time to pinch her, she defended herself drawing back her arm 
 vigorously. We seized her wrist without, however, causing 
 her pain. It was nevertheless the beginning of a contest; the 
 child began to cry loudly, and to sob, hiding her face behind her 
 sleeve. At the end of several seconds the sobs stopped of them- 
 selves. We gave her a sou which she eagerly took and pocketed. 
 But in spite of the gift her sullen attitude only increased, she 
 stood up and insisted upon leaving us, repeating several tunes 
 "me gO'." 
 
 Q. 
 
 Where? 
 
 
 
 A. 
 
 Eat. 
 
 
 
 Q. 
 
 Eat what? 
 
 
 
 A. 
 
 They are eating. 
 
 
 
 Q. 
 
 You are going to eat? 
 
 
 
 A. 
 
 Yes, it is time. 
 
 
 
 Q. 
 
 But stay just a minute, 
 
 are you 
 
 afraid of us? 
 
 A. 
 
 I go eat. 
 
 
 
 While giving these pretexts, she was gradually nearing the 
 door undoubtedly desiring -to open it, but not daring to put her 
 hand on the knob. Finally we opened it ourselves and she left 
 eagerly almost running. 
 
 The explanation must differ from that which we gave for Denise; 
 the sensibility to pain undoubtedly exists, but there is added to 
 it a mental reverberation that was lacking in Denise, that is fear. 
 Cretin was really afraid of us; note also the element of aversion; 
 not only was she afraid of us but she disliked us. 
 
 Let us conclude with Albert, the most intelligent of our im- 
 beciles. 
 
 Raising his sleeve, without giving him any warning we pinch 
 him sharply or prick him with a pin in a way to produce what 
 would be a real pain to a normal person. We ask him: 
 
64 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 Q. What was done to you? 
 
 A. You pricked me. 
 
 Q. Tell us when it pains you. (Fresh pricking — very pronounced) 
 
 A. (In a quiet voice) Ah, I feel that. 
 
 Q. But does it pain you? 
 
 A. Yes. 
 
 Albert is so little annoyed that he holds out his arm for us to 
 continue. Other prickings which bleed do not even call out a 
 cry. We make him plunge his index finger in water so hot as 
 to be intolerable; he does not even wink, he holds his finger plunged 
 a full minute in boiling water. For fear of serious results, we 
 are obliged to intervene, drawing out his finger which is a vivid 
 red. His countenance is unmoved — the smile is still there upon 
 his thick lips. 
 
 Q. Is it hot? 
 
 A. I felt nothing. 
 
 Begged to try again, he does so without hesitation, plunging 
 his finger once more into the water. Again we are obliged to 
 draw it out. Taking our turn, we plunge our own finger before 
 him in the boiling water, making gestures of pain to influence him. 
 But this mimicry scarcely moves him and does not act at all as 
 a suggestion. Invited to begin again, he shows no hesitation, 
 leaving his finger in the water until we draw it out. If a lighted 
 match is brought close to his nose or eyes, he draws back a little, 
 but very slowly although he feels the pain; we could easily burn 
 him seriously if we were not more careful than he. 
 
 How can we interpret this? It is complicated. We cannot 
 ask for an explanation from Albert, because he would always 
 agree with us. We suppose that he really feels the pain although 
 doubtless not so much as a normal person. He does not, how- 
 ever, possess great fear, no quivering ideas of apprehension; 
 consequently we believe he assumes an attitude of bravery, which 
 is quite possible, since it dominates a sensibility which is not at 
 all exaggerated. A last example; it is the moron, Griffon, upon 
 whom we now experiment. He is seated before us, both elbows 
 on the table, and we begin to speak of indifferent things. With- 
 out warning we reach out and pinch him severely. He utters a 
 slight cry and tries to draw back his arm. Since he is very docile, 
 however, and since he sees that we have a very serious attitude, 
 
SENSE OF PAIN 65 
 
 he replaces his arm, and seeing us take a pin to prick him he vol- 
 untarily submits to this attempt, enduring without winking the 
 pain of scratching him with the pin. It is evident that with 
 Griffon the same as Albert this is the result of an attitude of 
 bravery, because he first gave a cry and now remains impassive. 
 
 Two conclusions result from all this. First that an attitude 
 of fear or bravery, depending upon the character of the subject, 
 always cooperates, more or less, with an experiment upon pain 
 and may completely disguise the reactions to such sensibility. 
 This is an undeniable conclusion which our imbeciles have clearly 
 demonstrated. 
 
 As to the state of the sensibility to pain it is much more diffi- 
 cult to fix with precision. But we willingly admit that imbeciles 
 have generally a certain obtuseness. 
 
 This second conclusion has been verified by many different 
 experiments upon school children. We have proved conclusively, 
 according to different authors, that the threshold of sensibility 
 to pain in the most intelligent pupils is lower than in the least 
 intelligent; in other words, to provoke in them, a minimum of 
 pain requires a slighter pressure. This finding, compared with 
 that which we have made upon our imbeciles, clearly shows that 
 sensibility to pain develops with the intelligence; by pain we 
 must here understand not only a sensation localized and ap- 
 preciated in its intensity, but also all the psychic reverberations 
 of this pain, the ideas and emotions it provokes, which increase 
 it like an avalanche. In truth the highest intelligences have more 
 merit in being courageous than grosser natures; they are in fact 
 braver, though not by absence of fear, not by obtuseness of the 
 sensibilities, but by domination over a delicate sensibility, as 
 in the case, for instance, of Turenne. 
 
VII. THE ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS AMONG 
 THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 Our object is to discover how association of ideas among de- 
 fectives is formed, and if the mechanism of the production of 
 ideas presents in them any particular traits worthy of psychologi- 
 cal consideration. The procedure to be followed has been de- 
 scribed by several authors; we have made only slight changes, 
 which, however, were quite necessary. Here is the ordinary 
 instruction given to our subjects. "We are going to say a word, 
 and for every word you hear you are to say one, but the word 
 that you say must not be the same as ours." Ordinarily the 
 directions are more precise, the word is required to be in relation 
 with the word of the experimenter but we cannot make this 
 recommendation; our imbeciles would not understand it. 
 
 The young cook of twenty-three whom we have taken as a 
 normal subject for comparison, is very much embarrassed by 
 the vagueness of the instructions. This young woman was 
 constantly annoyed and dissatisfied with her replies, asking us 
 what she ought to say, and if her words ought to relate to those 
 given by us or not. And certainly she was quite right in asking. 
 Her distress showed clearly the ambiguous character of the 
 test. Of course, we did not reply to any of her questions, we 
 made the experiment without explaining anything, and we 
 give below the results. The times are extremely variable, be- 
 tween a minimum of 2 seconds and a maximum of 18. The 
 median value, which is here much better than the average, is 
 5.5." The words that she gives are in the most diverse relation 
 to the stimulus words; but all obeyed the fundamental law of 
 completing the sense. Sometimes it might be a definition: 
 "serpent — a creature that stings," or an effect: "shoe — for walk- 
 ing; water — ^refreshment; sun — ^warmth; garden — pleasure; paper 
 — ^to write." Or the whole suggested by the part: "nose — face; 
 hair — woman;" or supplementary connection "hat — coquetry;" 
 sometimes a familiar association "knife — bread." This logical 
 evocation, which was in no way demanded of her, however, proves 
 
 66 
 
ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS 
 
 67 
 
 that logic is easier to follow than chance; just as a worn path is 
 easier to follow than a direct course over the fields. We consider 
 it worth while to give the series of replies as a standard, although 
 necessarily it bears the stamp of individuality, and does not present 
 so general a bearing as one could desire. 
 
 Stiviulus words Time Reaction 
 
 Singer 14" Actor (after a moment of em- 
 barrassment) 
 
 I run 18" The beautiful path 
 
 Revolt 5" War 
 
 Hat 4" Coquetry 
 
 Bottle 7" Liquid 
 
 Picture 6" Landscape 
 
 Moustache 7" Chinaman 
 
 Knife 6" Bread 
 
 Paper...- 6" Write 
 
 Hair 9" Woman 
 
 Red 4" Flag 
 
 Dog 2" Four feet 
 
 Rain 8" Bad weather 
 
 Water 4" Refreshment 
 
 Garden 3" Pleasure 
 
 Omelet 3.5" Food 
 
 Shoe 4" For walking 
 
 Syrup 4" Sweetened liquids 
 
 Tobacco 5" It is dried leaves 
 
 The nose 2.5" Face 
 
 Sausage 9" Food 
 
 The sun 4" Warmth 
 
 Soldier 4" Army 
 
 Newspaper 2" Reading 
 
 Serpent 7" A creature that stings 
 
 Misery 5" The opposite of luxury 
 
 Justice 17" To give what is right 
 
 Virtue 11" It is a quality 
 
 Snow 5" Rain 
 
 Handkerchief 7" Cloth 
 
 Maximum time 18", minimum time 2". Median time 5.5". 
 
 Our defectives are distinguished from normals by many char- 
 acteristics, first of all by their general attitude. We have said 
 that our normal subject was troubled and felt quite embarrassed. 
 This embarrassment, so characteristic of a normal person who 
 is a novice, was not in the least shared by our imbeciles, who 
 showed the greatest serenity and evident satisfaction in all their 
 replies. 
 
68 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 All began by simply repeating the stimulus word; if no obser- 
 vation had been made to them they would have continued the 
 repetition, which has no interest whatever. It is curious, but 
 it is not peculiar to defectives. We have sometimes encountered 
 normals in previous experiments who with good faith repeated 
 the stimulus word without adding anything and who did not per- 
 ceive the absurdity of this repetition. 
 
 We intervene after a certain time and urge our defectives to 
 use a different word from the one pronounced by us. Sometimes 
 it is necessary to insist quite a little in order to break up this 
 habit. Some are embarrassed. They do not know what to 
 say. For a time they are satisfied to repeat the words which 
 they have already used at the beginning of the experiment; 
 but this stock is soon exhausted; they must draw new words 
 from their imagination. The words they find vary greatly and 
 depend upon their mental level. 
 
 Let us first mention a high grade imbecile girl, Duguet, who 
 resorted to a singular expedient. After having passed the pre- 
 liminary period of repetition, which we have just described, she 
 cites words which have no relation with ours, and which probably 
 she prepared beforehand. It can easily be seen because she 
 always chooses from the same category of objects, either the 
 names of garments or the names of objects present before her. 
 She seems to have hesitated a little before following this direc- 
 tion; but it becomes evident towards the last, and the reaction 
 times are very short, which is proof that she has prepared the 
 word of reply. 
 
 Stimulus words Time Reaction 
 
 Singer 3" Singer 
 
 I run 1" I run 
 
 Revolt 2" Revolt 
 
 Hat 8" Hat 
 
 New explanations are given so that the subject may lose the 
 habit of repeating. 
 
 Stimulus words Time Reaction 
 
 Bottle 35" Don't know — ah — the table 
 
 Picture 4" Chair 
 
 Moustache 4" Bottle 
 
 Knife 4" Plate 
 
 Paper 4" Fork 
 
ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS 69 
 
 Stimulus words Time Reaction 
 
 Hair 3" Knife 
 
 Red 5" Spoon 
 
 Dog 5" Carafe 
 
 Rain 4" Umbrella 
 
 Water 4" A boat 
 
 Garden 5" Dress 
 
 Omelet 8" Light 
 
 Shoe..... 3" Carpet 
 
 Syrup 4" On the floor 
 
 Tobacco 1.5" Hat 
 
 Sausage 1" Abed 
 
 Sun 16" Hat 
 
 Soldier 2" Dress 
 
 Newspaper 2" Apron 
 
 Serpent 6" Boot maker 
 
 Misery 1" Stockings 
 
 Justice 2" Slipper 
 
 Virtue 1" Carpet 
 
 The snow 2" The door 
 
 Handkerchief 3" Square 
 
 Maximum time 35", minimum time 1", Medium time 3.5". 
 
 From time to time, e.g., "rain" and "water," a slight associa- 
 tive influence let itself be felt, but more often there is no con- 
 nection, as is seen with such couples as misery — stockings; jus- 
 tice — slipper. This absence of relation is quite characteristic. 
 A normal would never think of replying thus, for he would realize 
 that it rendered the experiment quite useless; at lease, he would 
 not unless as a result of an attitude of mockery. In the case 
 of Duguet, the result proves the weakness of the association of 
 words; the word pronounced by us does not stand out because 
 she is looking for another. The times are shorter than those 
 of a normal but we have explained the reason. 
 
 A middle grade imbecile, Victor, shows a form of transition. 
 He commences like Duguet, by giving words without bearing 
 upon those pronounced; then, beginning with the word tobacco, 
 he changes his tactics. The associative influence of the words 
 makes itself felt. 
 
 Stim.ulus words Time Reaction 
 
 Singer 3" Singer 
 
 I run 3" I run 
 
 Revolt 3" Revolt 
 
 Hat 0" Hat, a cap 
 
70 
 
 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 We urge him not to repeat the word that we have said but to 
 find another. 
 
 Stimulus V'Ords Tin 
 
 Bottle 7 
 
 Picture 6 
 
 Moustache 4 
 
 Knife 5 
 
 Paper o 
 
 Hair 7 
 
 Red 4 
 
 Dog 5 
 
 Rain 5 
 
 Water o 
 
 Garden 4 
 
 Omelet 5 
 
 Shoe 5 
 
 Syrup 5 
 
 Tobacco 4 
 
 The nose 4 
 
 Sausage 
 
 The sun 4 
 
 Soldier 4 
 
 Newspaper 
 
 Serpent. 
 Misery. . 
 
 Justice. 
 
 Virtue 8 
 
 Snow 4" 
 
 Handkerchief 4" 
 
 Reaction 
 
 Belt to put around the body 
 
 Table .... girdle, cravat 
 
 Mous- .... a watch 
 
 Kni- .... knife put in the 
 post 
 
 Ah .... socks 
 
 Ah .... cravat 
 
 Ah ... . shirt 
 
 Socks .... night shirt 
 
 Ah .... night shirt 
 
 Drawers 
 
 A spade 
 
 A wheelbarrow to gather dirt 
 
 Spade — to dig 
 
 Rake — to gather dirt 
 
 Tobacco to smoke in a pipe 
 
 To put tobacco in his pipe 
 
 Sausage to light the pipe and 
 tinder to light the pipe 
 
 The sun to set up there 
 
 I never was a soldier 
 
 Newspaper. To read the news- 
 paper in bed 
 
 Siphon (?) 
 
 Misery, yes (makes sorrowful 
 countenance) 
 
 Just for the saving (he means for 
 the saving bank) 
 
 To put on ground, to eat in sum- 
 mer (understood lettuce, simi- 
 lar sound in French "vertu — 
 laitue") 
 
 The snow .... to fall on 
 the world 
 
 To blow (gesture) 
 
 Maximum time 8". Minimum time 2". Median time 4". 
 
 Victor's times are short, shorter than those of our normal 
 (4" instead of 5.5")- One might remark that the nature of his 
 associations does not consist in grouping beside the spoken word a 
 word having an entirely different sense, for instance, red-black, 
 sun-moon, etc, Victor rather tends to develop the idea given 
 to him, but he naturally employs very elementary processes. 
 
ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS 
 
 71 
 
 With Albert, a high grade imbecile, after the preliminary 
 period of repetition, all at once there is produced the association 
 of ideas. There are here veritable associations, with heterogeneity 
 of the elements. Let the reader judge. 
 
 Stimulus words Time Reaction 
 
 Singer Singer 
 
 I run I run 
 
 Revolt Revolt 
 
 Hat Hat 
 
 Bottle Hat 
 
 Picture Bottle 
 
 Moustache 12" Cravat 
 
 Knife 5" Fork 
 
 Paper 10" Picture 
 
 Hair 9" The head 
 
 Red 9" White 
 
 Dog 5" Cat 
 
 Rain. Ression (?) 
 
 Water 13" The Seine 
 
 Garden 30" There are flowers 
 
 Omelet 5" Some eggs 
 
 Shoe 5" Eggs 
 
 Syrup 5" Cod liver oil 
 
 Tobacco 5" Cigarette 
 
 The nose Needles (probably had under- 
 stood thimble (le nez . . . . le de) 
 
 Sausage 8" Pudding 
 
 The sun 5" The moon 
 
 Soldier 5" Military 
 
 Newspaper 35" Magazine 
 
 Serpent 5" serpe (pruning hook) 
 
 Misery 50" Anger (?) 
 
 Justice The Justice 
 
 Virtue Don't know what to say 
 
 The snow The snow it falls, the snow 
 
 Handkerchief 20" To blow one's nose 
 
 Maximum time 50". Minimum time 5". Median time 8". 
 
 Albert's times are longer. The associations are of such or- 
 dinary character, or rather, so elementary, chat one might have 
 foreseen many of them. We have here results that do not 
 seem to us clearly subnormal. An experimenter who was not 
 forewarned might have attributed them to a normal. We will 
 finish with the association of ideas of Griffon, a moron. These 
 seem to us to be 'of an absolutely normal level, except for one or 
 two improprieties of term or of thought. 
 
72 
 
 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 Stimulus u'crds Time Reaction 
 
 Singer 3" Singer 
 
 I run 5" To walk 
 
 Revolt 6" Someone who jostles 
 
 Hat 7" Hatter 
 
 Bottle 7" Broken glass 
 
 Pictui'e 3" Images which represent land- 
 scapes 
 
 Moustache 6" A man who has a moustache 
 
 Knife 12" Which is made with a wooden 
 
 handle 
 
 Paper 7" It is made with rags from the 
 
 factory 
 
 Hair 7" Which is on the head of a man 
 
 Red 13" A cloth that is red 
 
 Dog 6" An animal that is cross 
 
 Rain 3" That falls on the earth 
 
 Water 7" Which is found in springs 
 
 Garden Which is found in the fields 
 
 Omelet 3" Which is made of eggs 
 
 Shoe 7" Which is made of leather 
 
 Syrup 5" Which is made in factories 
 
 Tobacco 7" Which is made with tobacco from 
 
 the Caroline Islands 
 
 The nose 7" Which is above the chin 
 
 Sausage 7" Which is made with fat of pork 
 
 The sun 10" Which makes the earth go 
 
 Soldier 10" Represents the earth 
 
 Newspaper 5" Which is made in the printing 
 
 shop 
 
 Serpent 6" Which is found in the fields 
 
 Misery 2" A man who is unhappy 
 
 Vii'tue 8" A man who is good 
 
 The snow 3" That falls on the earth 
 
 Handkerchief 6" Which is made with rags 
 
 Maximum time 13". Minimum time 2". Median time 7". 
 
 The replies of Griffon have the form of appreciations, of judg- 
 ment, of definitions, much more than true associations. The times 
 are quite long. 
 
 Let us sum up, now, what these experiments upon the associa- 
 tion of ideas have taught us. The difference between the defec- 
 tive and the normal is seen constantly in the attitude taken, 
 particularly in the beginning of the experiment. While the 
 normal subject is embarrassed and protests that he does not know 
 what is required of him, the imiiocile and the moron, adapt them- 
 
ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS 73 
 
 selves at once to the instructions of the new experiment. There 
 is in this uneasiness at the beginning a mental state of higher 
 order, which unfortmiately cannot be written down with the 
 replies of the subject, and which, so to speak, evaporates. It is 
 a pity, for it forms a most characteristic difference. The length 
 uf the reaction times is also very significant. If we take the 
 median times, we can see they are very much shorter with the 
 defectives who are of low level, or who give reactions of an inferior 
 quality; let us put these median times into a series; we have 
 3.5"-4:"-S"-7". This series is too short for us to be able to inter- 
 pret it safely. We venture, however, to conclude from it that 
 the time depends upon the more or less elementary character 
 of the reaction, and that, considered separately, the reaction 
 time signifies nothing more than the time required to do a cer- 
 tain problem when we are not told in what the problem con- 
 sists. Let us add that similar studies upon eight normal school 
 children, aged from ten to twelve years, have furnished us with 
 the following median times, which represent each about thirty 
 association experiments: 4"-5.3"-5.7"-6.7"-7.3"-7.5"-12.1"-19" 
 of which the median would be 7. This is a new argument to 
 demonstrate that the association times are longer with normals 
 than with imbeciles, without doubt because the former have more 
 ideas to choose from. From this we can draw the following im- 
 portant conclusion in regard to the ideation of the imbecile. 
 
 When a normal reflects upon something, he does not content 
 himself with evoking an image, but he has an end towards which 
 he tends, and he tries to adjust his images to this end, and for 
 this adjustment he chooses among his images, he seeks for, he 
 rejects, and he retains. This work of selection is one in which 
 the intelligence of the agent manifests itself. When asked to 
 say a word after the word pronounced, he seeks more or less to 
 find a suitable word; this causes frequent embarrassment and 
 often rather long times before replying. With imbeciles, the 
 work of ideation seems to be much more simple. The imbecile 
 probably says the first word that comes to his mind; at all events 
 if he rejects certain words as inappropriate, this work of selec- 
 tion is very short, very restricted; he does not possess much choice 
 of words, he is not embarrassed, and consequently the work is 
 more elementary, more rapid. If one gave a prize for rapidity 
 it is the imbeciles who would win. As to the nature of the 
 
74 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 associations, it is evident that it can serve to distinguish onl}- 
 extremely low defectives like Victor and Diiguet. We have seen 
 that with them that which we have called ''the associative action 
 of words" does not take place for some time; but with Albert 
 and with Griffon, the associations formed present nothing peculiar, 
 that is have no fixed relation to deficiency. One can conclude 
 from this that it is not by the word of the inner language thac the 
 defective is differentiated from the normal; it is by the sentence 
 rather than by the word; by the thought rather than by the image; 
 by the organization rather than by the nature of the elements 
 which are to be organized. 
 
VIII. THE ACTIVITY OF THE INTELLIGENCE DISTIN- 
 GUISHED FROM THE LEVEL OF 
 THE INTELLIGENCE 
 
 The purpose of this short chapter is to point out an error or 
 rather to note a necessary distinction which is often unrecog- 
 nized, the distinction between the intellectual activity and the 
 intellectual level. Ordinarily the two are confounded; one im- 
 agines that the activity and the level are on a par and that a 
 being who has an active intelligence, one who talks much and 
 who has many ideas, is an intelligent being. Observations made 
 upon defectives will throw light upon this point. 
 
 In general imbeciles have a sluggish intelligence, and the con- 
 versation which one can hold with them is extremely flat. They 
 have nothing to say, nothing to relate; they can imagine nothing, 
 and hence are very brief; for instance there is Albert, a high grade 
 imbecile, of whom we have already spoken. Let us converse with 
 him and examine his remarks which show an extreme poverty of 
 ideas. The first time we saw him the following dialogue took 
 place between us: 
 
 Q. What is your name? 
 
 A. Albert Ernest. 
 
 Q. How old are you? 
 
 A. Twenty-six years old. 
 
 Q. Why were you sent to this institution? 
 
 A. You see, my sister had a dispute with my brother-in-law, she pre- 
 ferred to put me away. 
 
 Q. Why did your sister dispute thus with your brother-in-law? 
 
 A. Because he is a man who drinks. 
 
 Q. Ah! and then? 
 
 A. He did not want me with him. 
 
 Q. Truly? 
 
 A. And yet I did all the work. 
 
 Q. What did he say to make you leave? 
 
 A. Dreadful words. He even went and said at the "frefecture" I was 
 full of lice. 
 
 Information obtained showed us that the brother-in-law drank, 
 and had several times been locked up as an alcoholic. Albert's 
 
 75- 
 
76 
 
 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 sister is now getting a divorce from her husband. It is easy 
 to understand how it happened. Albert up to that time had 
 ])een kept by his family. Dissension had arisen, pecuniary 
 difficulties followed, and the imbecile could no longer remain 
 in their charge. 
 
 FIG. 15. ALBERT, HIGH GRADE IMBECILE, TWENTY-SIX YEARS OLD. 
 ME.VFAL LEV^EL OF CHILD OF SEVEN. 
 
 Q. What was your trade? 
 
 A. My trade was to work in the market in the morning, 
 wagons. 
 
 Q. Were you strong? 
 
 A. Very strong. 
 
 Q. How much did you make at the market? 
 
 A. Twenty sous a day and the customers gave me tip?;. 
 
 Q. How much money did you get for tips? 
 
 A. Fourteen sous. 
 
 I loaded the 
 
ACTIVITY OF, VS. LEVEL OF INTELLIC4ENCE 77 
 
 Q. Altogether, how much did you make? 
 A. In all 29 sous. 
 
 Q. What did you do with that money? 
 A. I gave it to my sister. 
 Q. Why did you give it to her? 
 
 A. (With some emphasis). Because it was my duty. 
 Q. But everyone does not give his money to his sister. 
 A. Not everybody. 
 Q. What persons do it? 
 
 A. It's those who get married, those who drink too much, who spend 
 their money. 
 
 Q. You were getting married? 
 A. Ah, no. 
 
 We learned that Albert willinglj^ got up early in the morning 
 to go to the market. He was very fond of his work. He quar- 
 reled with no one miless it was with his brother-in-law, whom 
 he could not endure. He took long trips through the streets 
 and found his way easily enough. He could go out alone with- 
 out causing any trouble, because he did not take up with people 
 whom he did not know; in a word, a very good subject, very 
 affectionate, very gentle. He wept at the death of his mother, 
 which had recently occurred, but his sorrow did not last long. 
 He was careful of his person, even foppish for he liked to be well 
 dressed. He often carried flowers to the women living in the 
 same house as himself. We said to him jokingly that he ought 
 to marry; the idea pleased him, he had chosen many women 
 to whom he made love platonically, with flowers and bouquets. 
 
 Q. From what country are you? 
 
 A. From the Batignolles. (A quarter of Paris). 
 
 Q. Is that in a city, Batignolles? 
 
 A. Yes. 
 
 Q. In which city? 
 
 A. It is a city of Marseilles. 
 
 Q. Yes, but when one is in Batignolles, can one say "I am English?'' 
 
 A. I am Parisian, I am not English. 
 
 Q. What is the date of your birth? 
 
 A. Ah! I do not know. 
 
 Q. When did you come here? 
 
 A. Yesterday, (correct) 
 
 Q. What day is today? 
 
 A. Wednesday, (correct) 
 
 Q. And what was yesterday? 
 
 A. Tuesday. 
 
78 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 Q. And tomorrow? 
 A. Thursday. 
 
 Q. How many daj-s in the week? 
 A. Five days. 
 
 Q. Is it morning or afternoon? 
 A. Afternoon, (correct) 
 Q. Why? 
 
 A. Because it is afternoon. 
 Q. What year is it? 
 A. The month of April. 
 Q. But the year? 
 A. I do not know. 
 
 Q. What is the name of the President of the Republic? 
 A. Ah! I do not know. 
 Q. You have been to school? 
 A. Yes, in the street I'Arbre-Sec. 
 Q. What docs your father do? 
 
 A. My father had a butcher shop in Paris, rue du Jour. 
 Q. Who has his shop now? 
 A. A man who used to work in the shop. 
 Q. And your mother? 
 
 A. She was a trades woman. It is my sister — who has had the medal. 
 Q. You have brothers? 
 A. Ah! my brothers are dead. 
 
 Q. But you, you are not dead, even if you have come into tlie world? 
 A. Ah! no "msieu." 
 Q. Does everyone die? 
 A. Yes. 
 
 Q. How is one when he is dead? 
 A. One never comes back. 
 Q. And God, where is He? 
 A. He is in heaven. 
 Q. Does He concern Himself about us? 
 A. It is on Him that we call. 
 Q. How is that? 
 A. It is our soul that calls us. 
 Q. Ah! Where is our soul. 
 
 A. Our souls, that is where our heart is .... It is our soul that 
 speaks. 
 
 He replies neither rapidly nor slowly; and we would not have 
 noted the quickness of his responses if we had not needed to 
 take it as a basis for comparison with other subjects. 
 
 Let us examine his verbal spontaneity. It is weak. He can 
 only find a few words by himself. After a long al:)sence on our 
 part, we saw him again. 
 
ACTIVITY OF, VS. LEVEL OF INTELLIGENCE 79 
 
 Q. What have you done my friend, in this long time since I have liad 
 the pleasure of seeing you? 
 
 A. I have swept. 
 
 Q. And then? 
 
 A. And then I cleaned the tiles — the tiles in the hall. 
 
 Q. And then? 
 
 A. And then I began again — after breakfast. 
 
 Q. And then? 
 
 A. I don't know. 
 
 Q. And yesterday? What did you do yesterday? Tell me about it, 
 give me the details. 
 
 A. Yesterday I swept too. 
 
 Q. And then? 
 
 A. And then when I had finished sweeping they sent me to the garden. 
 ("jai'din"). (He meant the attendant "gardien"). 
 
 Q. And then? , 
 
 A. Ah! I don't know. 
 
 It is impossible to obtain any other explanation. If this 
 imbecile had been the only witness of a complicated scene, and 
 one wished to know what had happened, it would have been 
 terribly difficult to find out. 
 
 One day Albert came to us with a blue kitchen apron knotted 
 around his waist. We feigned amazement. 
 
 Q. Why have you that apron around your waist? 
 
 A. (With a stupid smile) I'm a plunger. 
 
 Q. You bathe, do you? Is there a basin of water that you plunge into? 
 
 A. No, I wash the dishes. 
 
 He is very proud of this new duty, and we are assured that 
 since he has filled it he carries his head differently. But it is 
 impossible to make him express this feeling or anything analogous 
 to it. 
 
 Q. You like to wash the dishes? 
 
 A. Yes. 
 
 Q. Well, tell us about it — say something. 
 
 A. I don't know what to say. 
 
 Another time we succeeded in making him tell a stor^' of 
 his own invention. It was the first time that he had ever done it 
 and we suppose that we owe the story to his extreme docility. 
 Here it is, literally reproduced. "A dog — a white dog — that I 
 took to walk in the woods — that ran after the rabbits. The dog 
 got away from my hands and I lost him in the woods. The 
 
80 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 rabbit came and found me, and asked me how it happened that 
 I had that rabbit. It was my dog that caught it. I go home 
 with the rabbit. My relatives ask me how I came by it. I 
 tell them that my dog caught it and I was almost arrested by a 
 policeman. My relatives told me that I ought not to have done 
 it." 
 
 Q. Is that a made-up story? 
 
 A. Yes. 
 
 Q. Some one told it to you, or have you told it before? 
 
 A. No, nobody, because I saw it in a picture. 
 
 It is evident from the turn of the sentences, the foundation 
 of the story, and the final conclusion, that this is the story of a 
 child. 
 
 Contrast this with a loquacious imbecile, Cabussel, a big 
 jovial fellow, 1.685 meters (67.4 in.) in height, with the little 
 head of a child of seven years. He has very brilliant, black eyes, 
 and a great black moustache, which he smooths and combs 
 from time to time with the greatest care. The moment he is 
 spoken to, one is struck with his loquacity. He talks so rapidly 
 that we, who wished to record verbatim the replies of our imbeciles, 
 were unable to follow him and for the first time were obliged to 
 employ a stenographer. 
 
 Let us give a sample of his abundant conversation, 
 
 Q. What is your age? 
 
 A. Me, monsieur? Twenty-eight the month of April. I belong to 79. 
 
 Q. You know how to read? 
 
 A. Yes, monsieur, I can read and count money and everything. And 
 I can do errands and everything. 
 
 Q. What is your business? 
 
 A. Me, tailor. I work with my father. I know how to make overcoats, 
 dress coats, jackets. I also carry the coal. I know politics,too. When 
 I go to get the paper, I see what is going on. 
 
 He praises himself. He is a great braggart. 
 
 Q. Where were you at school? 
 
 A. Rue Domet. 
 
 Q. Have you a certificate? 
 
 A. Yes, monsieur. (Absolutely false) 
 
 Q. Can you count? 
 
 A. Yes, monsieur. I can do problems, subtractions, divisions. 
 
ACTIVITY OF, VS. LEVEL OF INTELLIGENCE 
 
 81 
 
 Q. Wi'ite: (one of us dictates) The pretty little girls have studied the 
 flowers. (He takes the pen but does not write). 
 
 A. Ah! I have fifty of them, me .... 
 
 Q. Fifty what? 
 
 A. Fifty women. I had one twenty years old. (Several rather loose 
 remarks follow). 
 
 FIG. 16. CABUSSEL, HIGH GRADE IMBECILE, OF TWENTY-EIGHT YEARS. 
 VERY LOQUACIOUS; LEVEL MENTAL OF A CHILD OF SEVEN. 
 
 Q. Very well 
 
 but write what I dictate. The pretty lit- 
 
 tle ... . 
 
 A. (With a smile). Ah! I don't know very well how to write . . . . 
 I haven't been in school much. 
 
 Q. You can at least write your name. 
 
 A. I know how to write, me .... (He commenced to print some 
 letters.) I begin with a C (He writes his name). 
 
 Q. Write Papa. 
 
82 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 A. (With a roguish air). That begins with a P. (He tries but cannot 
 write Papa). Paris, I can write that very well. (He prints the word 
 Paris.) Ah! I know how to count. If you wish I can count up to 100. 
 
 Q. Well, go ahead. 
 
 A. (Making a show) I begin with 1. (He counts correctly up to 65, 
 then he says 65, 67, 68, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 100. He is 
 well satisfied). 
 
 Q. And read? Can you read? 
 
 A. (He takes the newspaper that we hand him and follows the lines 
 with his finger without saying anything). 
 
 Q. No, read out loud. How do you expect me to hear? 
 
 A. Ah! (with a coaxing smile) that is a little difficult. 
 
 Q. Spell out the letters. 
 
 A. I learned the a, b, c's. 
 
 Q. Very well, spell. 
 
 A. (He spells and commits numerous errors; besides he skips the letters 
 he does not know). 
 
 Q. Who is President of the Republic? 
 
 A. Fallieres, and before him it was Loubet. And they say that the 
 one who is deputy at Javel is worth nothing at all. He had more than 
 1000 firemen killed. He is an assassin, that man. It was like Casimir- 
 Perier .... he did not stay long. He gave in his dmission. Philo- 
 sophore (Felix Faure) was poisoned, he was. He poisoned like that his 
 friends .... He made a good dinner with poison in it. 
 
 Q. How do you know that? 
 
 A. It was in the Petit Journal. (Note that he cannot read.) 
 
 Q. You read it? 
 
 A. Yes, yes. 
 
 Q. Who Avas Gambetta? 
 
 A. He was a great man. Went in a balloon .... Field of battle 
 
 . . . . And then. Savaro died with his mechanician .... he 
 fell upon a place, from 25 meters high. And then Santo Dumont took a 
 bath in the sea. He was saved, he was. He is a good fellow. When he 
 goes out he gives pieces of a hundred sous, to get the clothes that are at 
 the Mont de Pietc, sheets, handkerchiefs, housekeeping things. It is 
 he who does that. 
 
 Q. How did you know that? 
 
 A. It is in the paper. That is well known. 
 
 Q. And Monsieur Thiers? 
 
 A. Thiers? He was good for nothing, he was. He had everybody killed 
 with paving stones, in his carriage. He put them to the edge of the sword. 
 
 Q. How do you know that? 
 
 A. I heard them talk at home. And Napoleon the 1st. He was a good 
 fellow, he was. He died at St. Helena in 1840, the defeat of Waterloo. 
 I knew him, I did. I was at the Invalides as guard. 
 
 Q. As guard at the Invalides? What did you do there? 
 
 A. I answered everybody's questions. 
 
 Q. What else? 
 
ACTIVITY OF, VS. LEVEL OF INTELLIGENCE 83 
 
 A. I said, "Don't touch. I'll hit you in the face." (It is highly im- 
 probable that he was ever a guard at the Invalides). 
 
 Q. And Louis XIV? 
 
 A. Ah! Louis XIV he reigned a lot, he did. And Louis XV too. Louis 
 XIV a bad type, he was. He passed to the guillotine, by Deibler, rue 
 de la Roquette. The guillotine it was Dr. Guillotin who invented that 
 to cut the neck. 
 
 FIG. 17. CABUSSEL TRYING TO WRITE FROM DICTATION. 
 
 Q. And before, what did they do? 
 
 A. It was like it was in America. They hung them with a big rope, 
 and then they flung them into a hole. It was like Rochefort. They sent 
 him away, and he was for politics. They wouldn't let him talk, and they 
 shut him up here where I am. And then from here they exiled him to 
 Nume.a. 
 
84 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 Q. And Charlemagne, do you know him? 
 
 A. No. It was Louis XIV, Charlemagne and Charles the Bold and 
 Louis XVII and Alphonse XIII, they are the new kings. 
 
 This dialogue shows tht^ loquacity of Cabussel. Once started, 
 he scarcely stops. With him there is no need of constant urging 
 as there is with the other imbeciles who speak only when one 
 keeps sajang ''And then?" His loquacity is not, however ver- 
 bal excitation, analogous to that of maniacs. Cabussel does not 
 speak unless he knows or thinks he knows. His na'i've vanity 
 and boastfulness are quite apparent but too unconscious to be 
 harshly criticised. He knows many things, but he knows them 
 badly and he distorts them in the reproduction. One wonders 
 how he could learn all that; we should not have supposed that 
 he knew the names of Thiers, Rochefort, and still less who were 
 Louis XIV and Dr. Guillotin. 
 
 "At home," he said one day, "they call me orator. And then every 
 Sunday I go to the Deputy Chamber; the Minister receives me." Taking 
 advantage of the occasion, we ask him to deliver a discourse; he willingly 
 consents. 
 
 A. I will talk to you about war. 
 
 (He rises, adjusts his co.'it, twists his moustache, crosses his arms. Then 
 he delivers the discourse which we give below. He speaks slowly and 
 pauses constantly to find words and ideas. One should read this discourse 
 carefully. It is a choice expression of vanity in an imbecile). 
 
 "Once upon a time the war .... to die .... on the 
 field of battle .... it's my idea .... hem .... much 
 squabbling .... in case of war .... much squabbling 
 
 . . . Ah! the one who will be with me .... him, like a good 
 boy: I'll know how to defend him .... plead his cause for him 
 . I will plead to his God for myself .... Perhaps in 
 two weeks I will be no more in Paris. I will be perhaps an exile in prison 
 . . . I shall not be able to get away from it .... I shall 
 be able to get away in chains .... I shall not be able to get out 
 of them in prison .... they will give me black bread and water 
 
 . . . . on a board . . . . If I go out again I shall be very 
 miserable .... And then, when I am among the chiefs .... I 
 shall be decorated .... I shall pass as minister of war .... I 
 shall pass as minister of the Interior, of Finance. And when there is 
 money, it is I who shall dabble in it. I shall gain money. I shall be 
 admiral .... After that I can marry a pretty, beautiful woman. 
 I shall have children .... I shall rest in a beautiful castle . . . . 
 coast of France .... and it will be a beautiful castle .... 
 there will be kings and lords and then soldiers about me to regard me 
 . . . . and thou I shall have servants, and carriages and horses. 
 
ACTIVITY OF, VS. LEVEL OF INTELLIGENCE 85 
 
 And then one could go to the country to the watering place. Ah ! especially 
 it's cake that I want; at least fifteen thousand francs .... After 
 that I shall be happy .... I shall live to be eighty years old . . . 
 even a hundred and two years old .... fifty five years, fifty six 
 years, fifty eight, fifty nine, fifty seven, fifty eight, fifty nine, sixty, one 
 hundred . . . . up to a thousand years I shall live. I shall do like 
 Jesus Christ. 
 Q. And then? 
 
 A. He was baptized, thirty five years .... Jesus Christ; it was 
 in a Protestant temple .... he wasn't French, they made him 
 Catholic, and Roman. The priest he said. Eat my flesh and drink my 
 blood. Do this in memory of Jesus Christ. Amen." 
 
 This discourse is a precious morsel of eloquence which cannot 
 easily be obtained from an imbecile. It is precious because it 
 reveals to us, better than any test of association of ideas, how 
 the ideation of Cabussel develops. This ideation, on the whole 
 very poor, is dominated by a single thought which makes unity 
 of the fragment, that is the glorification of his own personality. 
 Cabussel truly speaks only of himself, thinks only of himself. 
 It is a vanity at once naive and enormous; notice carefully in 
 passing that this vanity is neither pride nor self respect, it pro- 
 duces no emulation, no generous effort. The vanity of Cabussel 
 gives him at times a sentiment of pity for himself, as when he 
 sees himself in prison; mostly, however, another sentiment domi- 
 nates, that of expansion, grandeur. There is no dehrium, for 
 Cabussel affirms nothing, he only wishes, imagines, dreams, but 
 he lives in his dreams. The sentences which he employs have 
 often a precise and clear significance; sometimes he alters them 
 and involuntarily gives them a comic sense, as when he says 
 the soldiers would regard him. Doubtless he intended to say 
 "guard" him. He does not hesitate to use set formulas as "plead 
 his cause for him," "plead to his God for me," and he is so com- 
 pletely controlled by automatic associations, that having com- 
 menced by speaking of war, he ends by entertaining us about 
 Jesus Christ. In spite of his desire to be grandiloquent, he is 
 obliged to make so many pauses, waiting for ideas which do not 
 come, that the effect of his discourse is spoiled. Even before a 
 great crowd he would make but a mediocre impression because 
 of the slowness of his delivery. 
 
 What we have just said of Cabussel proves that he has an in- 
 tellectual activity which is very great. The question now is 
 
86 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 what does he owe to this intellectual activity and what are the 
 results which come from it. Is he more attentive? No, and it 
 is interesting to note this. Cabussel has no more voluntary 
 attention than other imbeciles of the same level; rather he has 
 less. Thus in the experiment of repetition of figures, which is 
 one of the measures of the voluntary effort of attention, he re- 
 peats only 2 figures; Albert who is about the same level repeats 4. 
 Cabussel is not more successful in the repetition of sentences, 
 and does not go beyond 6 words, which is little for this level. 
 It seems probable that the force of attention is not in proportion 
 to the intellectual activity. Perhaps it may even be that a 
 very great activity is detrimental to the attention, which is the 
 power of co-ordination. It is more difficult to drive six mail 
 coach horses together, than one cab horse; so it seems to us more 
 difficult to co-ordinate a strong activity than a weak one. The 
 differentiation of thought^ which constitutes the essence of all 
 adaptation, is in our subject wholly independent of his activity 
 because it remains very weak. If a picture is placed before him, 
 he speaks with his habitual volubility, but his comments are 
 childish, and do not go beyond a monotonous naming of the 
 sexes. Exactly like Albert, he repeats "That is a man; that is 
 a woman; there are some men," while we are showing him in 
 succession 16 different pictures. He has barely the beginning 
 of description for one or two of them, as "There they are just 
 sitting down to the table," His definitions of objects present 
 the same monotonous character. Like Albert and so many 
 others, he defines only by use. On the whole, in spite of his 
 activity, his thought does not develop, it does not differentiate 
 itself in view of a better adaptation. 
 
 Here is the conclusion which we wished to reach. This con- 
 clusion has been already anticipated in studying the normal state, 
 where one often has the opportunity to make a distinction be- 
 tween the quantity and the quality of psychological phenomena. 
 Who has not encountered persons who busy themselves with a 
 host of questions, have a great deal of information, speak of 
 everything with warmth and an inexhaustible supply of words, 
 are fertile in views, hypotheses, distinctions, neologisms? Very 
 often they deceive as to their true value. They are thought very 
 
 ' We allude here to experiments of which we shall speak farther on. 
 
ACTIVITY OF, VS. LEVEL OF INTELLIGENCE 87 
 
 intelligent, while in reality they possess only intellectual activity. 
 In mental alienation we encounter certain cases where the in- 
 tellectual activity may be great, but the level remains very low. 
 This is often the case in maniacal excitation. This is charac- 
 terised by enormous expenditure of gestures and of words, which 
 constitutes indeed intellectual activity, but the words have 
 scarcely anj^ sense, and follow one another only according to 
 the caprice of the phonetic organs, or an association of ideas 
 scarcely thought out. The contrast is sometimes enormous 
 between the verbal exuberance of such patients and the weak- 
 ness of their minds. These facts are known by alienists but the 
 distinction which we make between intellectual activity and the 
 intellectual level has not always been recognized. In fact, the 
 error of confounding them has sometimes been committed. One 
 must remember that the faculty of adapting oneself is the prop- 
 erty of the intelligence and that the power of adaptation is the 
 measure of it ; it is evident that from this point of view any con- 
 fusion between the activity and the level is impossible. 
 
IX. NUMBER SENSE AND THE ARITHMETICAL 
 FACULTY 
 
 According to the general opinion current among competent 
 authors, imbeciles have no notion of number. To us this state- 
 ment seems too absolute to be exact. 
 
 When one talks with imbeciles, he notices that even small 
 numbers give them no exact ideas. Certain ones, like Victor, 
 who have an extended vocabulary, cannot even count their 
 fingers. We ask Victor, 
 
 Q. How many fingers have you? - 
 A. (Opening his hand) Three. 
 Q. On the other hand? 
 A. Seven. 
 
 Victor, by the way, replies in the most imperturbable manner 
 to any question asked him, even if it be hopelessly beyond his in- 
 telligence or degree of instruction. 
 
 Q. 6 from 19 leaves how many? 
 
 A. Two. 
 
 Q. 2 and 1, how many is that? 
 
 A. Two. 
 
 Q. 5 sous and 1 sou, how many sous does that make? 
 
 A. 1 sou. 
 
 He is never embarrassed. Albert is equally absurd although 
 he knows more. 
 
 Q. How many fingers have you on the right hand? 
 
 A. Five. 
 
 Q. Altogether on the two hands? 
 
 A. Six. 
 
 Q. How many eyes have you? 
 
 A. Two. 
 
 Q. And how many ears? 
 
 A. Two. 
 
 Q. 2 eyes and 2 ears, how many ears does that make? 
 
 A. Three. 
 
NUMBER SENSE 89 
 
 To Victor who does not know how to tell time, we say showing 
 the clock, which points to half past five: 
 
 Q. What time is it? 
 A. It is exactly four. 
 
 That last reply is a little gem. 
 
 In the same way they give us the most extravagant figm-es 
 concerning their age; and by pressing them a little, they can be 
 made to make enormous errors. Victor willingly admits that 
 he is one hundred; and Albert assents to our affirmation that 
 Dr. Simon is eighteen hundred years old. Such observations have 
 given the idea that imbeciles have no notion of number. Never- 
 theless the errors which they commit can be easily explained in 
 two ways, which are quite distinct from the development of 
 the arithmetical faculty. In the first place, they do not understand 
 the precise meaning of the names of the numbers, these names 
 do not waken in them any but the vaguest ideas, and conse- 
 quently the crying absurdity of certain replies exists much less 
 for their intelligence than for ours. They are like ignorant per- 
 sons who say rude things, by using haphazard words from an 
 unknown language; their only error is that of employing words 
 whose meaning they do not know. In the second place, their 
 defective manner of replying is aroused, and should be excused, 
 because of their desire to please us. Imbeciles of the rebellious 
 type, when asked something of which they are ignorant, as for 
 example the number of fingers on the two hands, reply readily, 
 ''I do not know." 
 
 Our studies have led us to propose the following distinction. 
 In the arithmetical faculty there are two operations: the one 
 sensorial, consisting in the perception of pluralities in concrete 
 form, that is the number represented by the objects; the other, 
 verbal, consists m applying the names of numbers to these plurali- 
 ties, in counting them, and in making numbers undergo various 
 arithmetical modifications. These two operations are distinct 
 one from the other. The first is animal, in the sense that it is 
 found in a rudimentary form among creatures deprived of 
 language. The second is more especially human, because it 
 presupposes the intervention of language for naming the plurali- 
 ties, from whence has come the whole development of the ideas 
 and operations which constitute mathematics. From not having 
 
90 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 made this distinction, naturalists have committed a grave error; 
 they have supposed that the higher animals have no notion of 
 number, or at least cannot count beyond 3 or 4, while man can 
 count numbers indefinitely great; this is not correct and the con- 
 trast here presented, gives rise to confusion. If man with a 
 certain development possesses the conception of number, he 
 owes it very largely to language; deprived of the service which 
 the word renders, it is probable that he would be unable to count 
 even small numbers. 
 
 Let us make use of this distinction in order to study among 
 defectives the state of their number sense. We shall begin by 
 considering the animal, sensorial faculty, that which dispenses 
 with language. 
 
 Some time ago, one of us experimented with children of from 
 3 to 5 years, before they had learned the names of the figures, 
 to see if they could nevertheless recall a number of similar ob- 
 jects. We put upon the table sous, or beans, in a group, side 
 by side, without forming any figure, then we said to the child, 
 "Look and see how many there are." Sometimes we put 3 
 or 4, sometimes 5. Then taking all these objects in our hand, 
 we deposited one on the table, saying ,"Are there any still in 
 my hand?" Same question for the second, third, for all; after 
 several tests made with many precautions, we learned how many 
 objects the child could hold in mind. It is evident for instance, 
 that if we had shown 20 at first, he could not, when we placed 
 the 20th, say that was the last. We found that a normal child 
 of five, without the help of language, could retain a number repre- 
 sented by five similar objects. These experiments on animal 
 memory were given to Victor, whom they amused very much, 
 with the following results. We placed 4 single sous in the form 
 of a square. Then taking them in our hand, made the move 
 indicated, demanding a reply for each piece. When the fourth 
 sou was placed Victor declared there were no more. We tried 
 again with five coins, placed on a curve so as not to form a char- 
 acteristic figure. The same success. When the fifth coin is 
 placed Victor declares, "There are no more." 
 
 We took six coins. Failure. The sixth placed, Victor declares 
 there are more. 
 
 Same game with seven coins. Success. At the seventh, 
 Victor declares, "There are no more." 
 
NUMBER SENSE 91 
 
 Repetition with seven coins. Same success. 
 
 Same game with eight coins. Failure. 
 
 Repetition with eight coins. Failure. 
 
 Thus Victor can retain a number represented by seven objects. 
 
 Albert cannot go beyond five under exactly the same cir- 
 cumstances. 
 
 We do not suppose after having been informed of such experi- 
 ments, one could still say with W, Ireland that an imbecile has 
 no notion of number. 
 
 Let us now pass to the verbal intelligence of number, some- 
 thing which is strictly human, and see in what state this is to 
 be found among these same imbeciles; it is indeed in a miserable 
 state and nothing is more curious than the contrast between it 
 and the animal faculty which we have just seen in operation. 
 
 Recitation of figures and counting. Albert can recite the figures 
 to ten and a little beyond. Victor cannot go quite so far and 
 commits errors. It is not difficult to recite figures; it is like 
 reciting a fable or a prayer; it requires principally memory and 
 but little intelligence. But they cannot recite the series of figures 
 backward, either from inability to make the voluntary effort 
 which would be necessary for this inversion, or through lack of 
 facility in the associations connecting the names with the differ- 
 ent figures. Furthermore it is a curious fact that they are unable 
 to count as many objects as they can recite figures. Thus if 
 they can recite to 10 it does not follow that they can count to 10. 
 Let us see what they do. 
 
 Already, the simple idea that they are to count, is difficult 
 for them to grasp. We say to Victor, showing him a bowl full of 
 pins, "Count me out eight pins." He gives us what he can take 
 with his thumb and finger without counting. Let us admit 
 that he does so through carelessness. We continue. Then 
 we ourselves take 10 pins from the bowl, and spread them upon 
 the table, and ask him how many there are. Without counting 
 he replies 5. We repeat, "How many pins?" He answers 4. 
 
 At another time Albert, in his turn asked to tell the number, 
 replied 26. Did they get the idea that they were to guess? 
 No. We rather believe that they did not suppose anything at 
 all. A number is asked and they say any one that occurs to 
 them. The number is suggested to them by the question and 
 the appearance of the things, and they do not try in any way 
 to verify it. 
 
92 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 But let US oblige them to really count one after the other 
 the pins spread out on the table before them in a row. They 
 commit a host of improbable, unexpected errors of such a nature 
 that it seems as if they did it on purpose. Thus Victor often 
 puts his finger on two pins at once, and counts only one; or again 
 he neglects certain ones and does not count them; or again there 
 is a whole group to which he returns and which, consequently, 
 he counts twice without noticing. Duneize (middle grade im- 
 becile) proceeds in the following manner. The pins are in a pile 
 before her; she takes them one at a time and forms a new pile, 
 and with every pin that she takes she says a number. The result 
 would be correct if she followed this program to the letter; but 
 she forgets from time to time to count one of the pins which 
 she puts in the new pile, so that the total sum is not correct. 
 More than this she does not give the last number which she counts; 
 but any number, haphazard. For example, after having counted 
 15 pins, she will say 14. Another time, she counted only 5 
 pins and committed the following error: having reached 5, she 
 continued to count, 5, 6, 7, probably because she allowed her- 
 self to follow the suggestion by the continuation of a known series. 
 
 It is easy to understand the cause of most of these errors. 
 The necessity of designating the objects as they are being counted 
 and at the same time reciting the series of figures may disturb 
 the memory of the order of the figures, because there is a division 
 of attention. Albert has furnished us a curious example of this. 
 We put before him 6 pins, well separated one from the other. 
 He counts them with his finger while reciting the following series: 
 1, 2, 3, 4, 6. Having finished he perceived there was one more, 
 at the same moment he also perceived that he had omitted to 
 count 5; there was an instant of hesitation and then he decided, 
 and touching the remaining pin he said, "five, there are five of 
 them." The error is so complicated that it would have been 
 difficult to explain it, and still more difficult to make him com- 
 prehend it. 
 
 It can thus be seen that to count objects represents a much 
 more complex operation than reciting figures. Let us go farther 
 and see what our imbeciles and morons do with money. 
 
 Money. Money gives rise to much more difficult operations 
 than pins do, because pins are unities, while money is composed 
 of units, of tens, of twenties, of hundreds, which give rise, as 
 
NUMBER SENSE 93 
 
 we shall see, to operations requiring considerable training. Are 
 imbeciles familiar with, we do not say the value, but the names 
 of the pieces of money? They know them, at least those who 
 are older and have had time to learn them ; they know them even 
 better than children of the same mental level, and this is natural 
 because they profit from a longer experience. But their men- 
 tality betrays itself especially in this, that they constantly make 
 mistakes in naming the pieces, and give the correct name only 
 once or twice out of three times. 
 
 Here are the names given by Victor. 
 
 Pieces represented Replies of Victor 
 
 fr. 50 10 sous (correct 
 
 1 fr 20 sous (correct) 
 
 2 fr 20 sous (incorrect) 
 
 5 f r 3 fr. (incorrect) 
 
 A new sou 10 fr. (incorrect) 
 
 1 sou 2 sous (incorrect) 
 
 1 sou 1 sou (correct) 
 
 20 fr. (gold) 1 fr. (incorrect) 
 
 Immediately the pieces are again shown to him in the same 
 order, and the difference in the replies is very apparent. 
 
 fr. 50 10 sous, to buy tobacco 
 
 1 fr 20 sous 
 
 2 f r 20 sous 
 
 5fr 1 fr. 
 
 20 fr 3 fr. 
 
 1 sou 1 sou 
 
 5 fr 1 fr. 
 
 20 fr 3 fr. 
 
 1 sou 1 sou. 
 
 5 fr 1 fr. 
 
 1 fr 20 sous. 
 
 fr. 50 That is to buy a 
 
 package of tobacco 
 10 ^us (correct) 
 
 2 centimes Ah ! don't know, 
 
 centimes . . 
 you play me a trick 
 
 What must we think of these designations? In the beginning 
 one is disposed to take them seriously, all the more because the 
 imbecile gives them without hesitation, and with a profound 
 assurance; he seems wholly convinced of what he is saying. 
 
94 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 One supposes therefore that he has learned incorrectly: that 
 sometimes happens. But it is not what most frequently happens. 
 The general rule is that the imbecile gives any name haphazard 
 to what he does not know, and he does not even suspect this; 
 he has no intention whatever of guessing, nor has he the trick of 
 wishing to hide his ignorance under an air of assurance. He does 
 not perceive that he often contradicts himself; he does not realize 
 that he does not know. He seems even to be convinced that 
 he does know — if it can be that in a mental state so rudimentary 
 as his, one can be convinced of anything. 
 
 Let us push our investigation still farther, and ask the value 
 of the pieces of money, how many sous, for instance, it requires 
 to make a franc. Neither Victor nor Albert can reply, or rather 
 the answers which they give are extravagant, and as though 
 spoken at random. On the contrary Griffon, a moron, gives 
 the correct reply every time. Between these two groups of 
 defectives is it possible to imagine an intermediate state? We 
 do not suppose so. We simply think that we might find an 
 imbecile X who would give nearly the correct value of cer- 
 tain pieces, exactly the correct value of others, and fail utterly 
 on still others. Observation has furnished us a very unexpected 
 type of transition. It is Beauvisage, our young, high-grade 
 imbecile. She belongs to a family engaged in the business of 
 selling crusts of bread for dogs; her services have certainly been 
 utilized, and she must have received money and learned not to 
 make mistakes. In effect, she knows the names of all the pieces 
 of money, and besides she has some relative idea of their value. 
 She cannot say that the 5-franc piece is worth a hundred times 
 1 sou, or that the 2-franc piece is worth forty times 1 sou, but 
 if we put them side by side she knows positively which is worth 
 more. 
 
 Thus she knows that 2 francs is worth more than 1 fr. and 
 she knows that 1 fr. is worth more than 10 sous, and also that 10 
 sous is worth more than a nickel 5-sou piece. More than this, 
 if we make a pile of 8 sous on one side and on the other side place 
 a 10-sou piece, she selects the 10-sou piece as more valuable 
 than the pile of 8 sous. Here is a curious appreciation of the 
 value of money; we have thought it interesting to note this fact 
 in passing. 
 
 Let us come now to the act of counting money; it involves 
 
NUMBER SENSE 95 
 
 a great complication, of which we have already spoken. Cer- 
 tain pieces are worth more than others; this is sufficient to be- 
 wilder the imbeciles. Thus Albert can generally count correctly 
 a line of a dozen pins spread out before him. This same subject 
 knows the value of a 2-sou piece. Give him sous to count in 
 which there are single and double sous, he makes mistakes be- 
 cause he counts each double sou as a single sou. Five single 
 sous and one double sou are counted exactly as though they made 
 six sous. The nature of the error is curious; it evidently con- 
 sists in a simplification; it is easier to pass from 5 to 6 than from 
 5 to 7. Moreover little children make the same mistake. 
 
 The centimes complicate the operation still more. We have 
 remarked in the case of Cabussel, high grade imbecile and micro- 
 cephalic, how dangerous it is to give to these beings any in- 
 struction which is not in accord with their degree of intelligence. 
 It is a question of high pedagogical importance, which would 
 need a lengthy explanation. Perhaps we shall return to it later. 
 Here it will suffice to indicate a particular application of it. Ca- 
 bussel is capable of counting correctly 10 pins, or even 15 pins; 
 if he sometimes makes an error it is slight and caused by a moment 
 of distraction. When he is given a mixture of double and single 
 sous to count, he becomes at once very much embarrassed, grows 
 confused and ends by giving a result ridiculously wrong. This 
 is because he knows the value of the money not only in sous 
 but also in centimes; this is very unfortunate for him; if he knew 
 only the sous, he could, we believe, make the count correctly; 
 but he adds, now sous, now centimes, from which comes an in- 
 extricable confusion. A sum of 11 sous, composed of 5 double 
 and 1 single sou, is counted as making 36 sous. A sum of 15 
 sous made with double and single sous, is counted as making 51 
 sous, or another time 53 sous. It is difficult to give the details 
 of this operation, because Cabussel goes so fast that one can 
 scarcely follow him, and if you beg him to begin again, he never 
 follows the same operation. 
 
 Schematically, one might represent the work which he executes, 
 by emplojdng the following terms: he counts, "1 sou, 2 sous, 3 
 sous, 4 sous, 5 sous;" so far it is correct; then he encounters 2 
 sous, which he counts for 10 centimes; he adds 10 centimes and 
 5 sous which make for him 15 sous, and so on. Arrived at the 
 highest figure, he says one time that they are sous, at another 
 
96 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 time centimes. In truth it is a pity that any one took the pains 
 to teach this imbecile the value of money in centimes! What 
 trouble, what effort it must have cost ! And with what results ! 
 He counts very much worse than if he had remained ignorant. 
 
 Many more observations might be made. We shall stop 
 with this one, which was suggested to us by Lanterie, a high 
 grade imbecile. She can count quite well a mixture of single 
 and double sous, or at least when she is wrong, her error is slight. 
 Thus, there are 4 double sous, and 2 single sous; she counts 
 10 sous correctly. Nevertheless if one asks her a question of 
 abstract addition, for instance, "How many are 3 and 2?" she 
 shows herself incapable of adding 2; she succeeds in adding 1 
 but not 2; out of 6 questions of this nature she made 4 mistakes. 
 It results therefore that it is more difficult to make abstract 
 additions of 2 than additions of double sous. In the latter case, 
 the attention is doubtless better fixed and more affected by the 
 concrete character of the experiment. 
 
 It can easily be seen that our imbeciles are not brilliant cal- 
 culators; all the examples that we have cited are full of curious 
 errors which they commit; and what completely proves that their 
 arithmetical faculty is but little developed, is that sub-normal 
 children, whom we have brought together in the special classes, 
 are all weak in number work, much weaker than in spelling 
 or reading. 
 
 There exists therefore a remarkable contrast between the ani- 
 mal and the verbal intelligence of number. Victor, who cannot 
 correctly count 4 sous placed on the table, shows a surprising 
 ability in the little game with the hand which consists of counting 
 them without counting them, so to speak, having only a simple 
 sensorial idea of their number. This ability resembles that which 
 they show in comparing lines, weights, and even in perceiving 
 the distance and the position of objects. They have without 
 any doubt some of our sensorial faculties; these are as acute 
 with them as with us. That which is specially lacking is the 
 word, the key to abstract ideas and general conceptions. 
 
X. REASONING 
 The Intellectual Acts in General 
 
 We shall now study how our defectives perform certain in- 
 tellectual acts. These intellectual acts consist in understanding, 
 judging, explaining, defining, developing, inventing, imagining, 
 deducing, demonstrating and in accomplishing a host of other 
 operations which have for their object directly or indirectly 
 the solving of problems; because real life proposes to us ques- 
 tions without ceasing which are like barriers opposing themselves 
 to our activity; our intelligence spends itself in finding a solu- 
 tion to these problems; if it cannot solve them more or less well, 
 we cannot adapt ourselves. 
 
 It is clear that, in preceding pages, we have also been studying 
 intellectual acts. To find the longer of 2 lines or the heavier 
 of two weights is to compare, to judge, to comprehend. There 
 is some intelhgence in all our acts; only the proportions of the 
 difficulty vary; we have created up to this point, very slight 
 difficulties; we shall now consider greater ones. 
 
 All these difficulties may be reduced to the following formula: 
 given one element, a, the problem consists in finding another 
 element, h, which completes it. This can be explained by several 
 dift'erent examples of which we shall cite only three. A question 
 is put: "What is a horse?" This question is the element a. In 
 finding the suitable definition for a horse, the element h is fur- 
 nished. In the same way we present to someone a picture repre- 
 senting persons seated around a table, upon which are glasses. 
 The picture represents the element a. In giving the subject 
 of the picture, in saying it represents a drinking scene, the ele- 
 ment h is furnished. Last example; "Game of patience." Pieces 
 of a card are shown with the instruction to reconstruct the card 
 by patting the pieces together m the proper manner. The re- 
 construction is the end, the element to be found, element h; 
 the data of the problem form the element a. 
 
 97 
 
98 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 Pictures. For the perception of pictures, defectives behave 
 almost exactly like very young, normal children; we fear we shall 
 repeat what we have elsewhere said of the latter^ if we report 
 in detail all that we have found true with imbeciles; but the 
 study is so important for explaining the insufficiency of imbecile 
 thought, that we shall be pardoned if we go back to it. The 
 defective is fond of pictures; the picture is an excellent test, 
 which catches his attention and amuses him, and when necessary 
 dissipates his ill humor. In general the picture does not hold 
 his attention long; he quickly exhausts it, and he wishes to see 
 another. If he is asked to describe the picture presented to him, 
 he does not reflect long; he finishes his description in a few words. 
 The number of words that he uses might almost measure his 
 intelligence. A middle grade imbecile, Duneize, to whom we 
 show a collection of 16 pictures, gives on an average 2 words 
 to a picture. A higher grade imbecile, Albert, gives 8 words 
 on an average, while Griffon, a moron, employs an average of 
 20. It is nevertheless the same collection. All this proves 
 that one interests himself in things only in the measure in which 
 he himself is intelligent; in other words, our interest in things 
 comes from what we put into them as much as from what they 
 offer to us. 
 
 As to the nature of the work done on the pictures by defectives, 
 it shows the same stages as among normal children. The lowest 
 intellectual type is that of the enumerators, those who content 
 themselves with briefly naming the principal objects which they 
 see. Nearly all imbeciles belong to this type, but with a well- 
 marked selective tendency. We have never encountered one 
 who, like certain insane subjects mentioned elsewhere, described 
 a picture from left to right. All our imbeciles go directly to 
 persons, and what specially interests them is the sex of the per- 
 sons. "That is a man — There are men — That is a woman — 
 Those are women, etc." These are the replies that we most 
 frequently receive, for pictures which contain many other things; 
 from time to time, but more rarely, they designate animals, 
 horses for instance and dogs, but the subject of the picture is 
 passed by in silence. The imbecile does not bother himself 
 to know "what that signifies." He concentrates upon the in- 
 
 ' The Development of the Intelligence among Children. 
 
REASONING 99 
 
 ventory of persons; this brevity does not however prevent him 
 from making many errors. One of them, looking at a scene 
 of insurgents, where there were more than thirty persons, said 
 "That is a man;" another looking at a picture of two men fighting, 
 took one of the men for a horse, and said "There, that is a man, 
 a man who is on horseback," and so forth. It. can be seen 
 that even in limiting oneself to enumeration one can make 
 mistakes. 
 
 A stage higher, the enumeration mingles with description. 
 The position of the person is noted with the action. Then among 
 the more intelligent, generally the morons, there are true des- 
 criptions expressed in complex sentences. This we believe is 
 the limit; the moron does not go beyond descriptions, he never 
 rises to general interpretation. Interpretation is a matter for 
 normal intelligence. 
 
 What do these experiments upon pictures prove? Two princi- 
 pal facts, as we believe; first, the astonishing resemblance be- 
 tween our imbeciles and normal children very much younger; 
 besides this, a certain lack of intelligence and of comprehension 
 which results in our imbeciles not entering into the meaning 
 of the picture as they should. They stop at the first and most 
 elementary image that presents itself to their minds; they see 
 in the picture only the most apparent objects, those which are 
 the most striking to them, and they do not at all attempt to 
 divine what is not seen but which is only suggested. Theirs 
 in an intelligence that lacks penetration. 
 
 Definitions of words. Here is another subject upon which 
 we do not wish to expand because it is treated elsewhere^ in re- 
 lation to normal children and it turns out that our defectives 
 give definitions that are absolutely analogous to those of children. 
 Let us be brief. Recall the fact that normal children according 
 to age and intelligence give three sorts of definitions. 
 
 1. Simple repetitions: a chair is a chair. 
 
 2. Definitions in terms of use. 
 
 3. Definitions in terms superior to use: A chair is an object, 
 a piece of furniture, it is made of wood. 
 
 Among our defectives we find especially an abundance of 
 definitions in terms of use; and they are such that if one did not 
 
 2 The Development of the Intelligence among Children, p. 104. 
 
100 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 know the personality of those who gave them, they would be 
 unhesitatingly attributed to normal children. 
 
 Here are the replies of Victor, all by use. Victor, let us recall, 
 is an imbecile fifty-three years old. 
 
 Q. What is a house? 
 A. To sleep in. 
 Q. What is a fork? 
 A. To eat with. 
 Q. What is a mama? 
 A. To eat. 
 
 Q. What is a snail? (edible snail) 
 A. To eat, monsieur. 
 Q. And paper? 
 A. To write on. 
 Q. A paper-cutter? 
 A. To cut paper. 
 Q. A good trade? 
 A. Don't know. 
 Q. A railroad? 
 
 A. (Imitates the whistle of a locomotive) 
 Q. Goodness? 
 A. Don't know. 
 Q. Justice? 
 A. For men. 
 Q. Virtue? 
 
 A. It is salad, (he understood lettuce — la laitue) 
 Q. Charity? 
 
 A. To give bread. (Eloquent simplicity which certainly was not 
 conscious). 
 
 Q. Solidarity? 
 
 A. To be a soldier. (Was deceived by the similarity of sound) 
 
 Q. Work? 
 
 A. To dig up the garden. 
 
 Q. Ambition? 
 
 A. For soldiers. 
 
 Q. Hope? 
 
 A. Hope is for men. 
 
 Q. Gluttony? 
 
 A. To drink, and get drunk. 
 
 The point of view remains constantly the same, that of use; 
 he sees things in the most ordinary manner and one feels there 
 is no reflection. 
 
 The definitions of Albert belong to the same category; defini- 
 tions by use, with a childish turn. 
 
REASONING 101 
 
 Q. What is a house? 
 
 A. A house .... well .... a house it is to rent. 
 
 Q. A fork? 
 
 A. It is to eat with. 
 
 Q. A mama? 
 
 A. She is to get ready things to eat. 
 
 Q. A table? 
 
 A. It is to eat on. 
 
 Q. A chair? 
 
 A. It is to sit on. 
 
 Q. A horse? 
 
 A. It is to work. 
 
 Q. A snail? 
 
 A. It is to eat. 
 
 Q. A flea. 
 
 A. It is to kill. 
 
 Q. Charity? 
 
 A. It is those who do good in the world. 
 
 Q. Justice? 
 
 A. It is those who do evil. 
 
 Q. Goodness? 
 
 A. Ah, goodness, it is to get angry. 
 
 Q. Virtue? 
 
 A. (after thinking a long while) I don't know. 
 
 The replies of Beauvisage are identical. 
 
 Q. A house? 
 
 A. It is to lodge in. 
 
 Q. A fork? 
 
 A. It is to eat with. 
 
 Q. A mama? 
 
 A. (no reply) 
 
 Q. A carriage? 
 
 A. A carriage is to roll. 
 
 Q. A horse? 
 
 A. A horse, it is to draw the carriage. 
 
 Q. A snail? 
 
 A. That is to eat, snails. 
 
 Q. A flea? 
 
 A. A flea is on dogs. 
 
 Q. Charity? 
 
 A. To beg for money. 
 
 Q. Justice? 
 
 A. (after thought) It supports the world. 
 
 The only conclusion which can be drawn from these notes 
 is identical with what we have presented apropos of the experi- 
 
102 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 merits upon pictures. It can be seen that they define exactly 
 like a young child. One can also say that they conduct them- 
 selves in a very unintelligent manner, because, in truth, to resem- 
 ble a young child, and to conduct oneself with but little intelli- 
 gence, are synonymous. The lack of intelligence consists here 
 in a very limited vision ; the use of things is evidently what strikes 
 them the moment they think of things; it is what is obvious, 
 what one sees without reflection; and this is why children and 
 imbeciles accept the idea of use and are satisfied with it. Con- 
 cerning their intelligence let us repeat what we have already 
 said about the interpretation of pictures: it lacks penetration. 
 
 The "game of patience." The last experiment which we shall 
 cite, chosen from many others, is of a purely sensorial order; 
 it is suitable for those who are not at all brilliant in the exercise 
 of verbal intelligence. We cut a visiting card into ten pieces of 
 the most varied form, triangles and polygons of different sizes. 
 The problem is to reconstruct the visiting card by putting to- 
 gether the fragments in the required order. We place an uncut 
 card on the table and invite the subject to reconstruct a similar 
 one from the pieces. The difficulty of this test is not measur- 
 able; it depends not only on the number of fragments but upon 
 their size and form. We have been able, by proceeding in differ- 
 ent ways, to make easy combinations, and others very much 
 more difficult. At first sight there seems no directing idea that 
 can be followed as a guide in this game; one must attempt all 
 sorts of mechanical combinations until one happens on the right 
 one. This is not quite true. Notice first that the number of 
 fragments is 10, that each presents on the average 3 sides; 
 the number of sides then is 30; but the number of combinations 
 which one could make with 30 elements is so great that it would 
 take a whole life time to exhaust them. Nevertheless we have 
 seen persons of normal intelligence reconstruct the card in two 
 or three minutes. It must therefore be that the intelligence 
 enters unconsciously into these attempts which seem the most 
 mechanical. But how does this intelligence work? It is diffi- 
 cult to discover. The subject performs a mental operation which 
 in the main escapes us, because he does not speak. The study 
 of defectives and their errors, should permit us to analyse these 
 mental operations. All that we can verify is the intellectual 
 activity of the subject, the reflections that he makes, the num- 
 
REASONING 103 
 
 ber of his unsuccessful attempts, the manner in which he him- 
 self judges these attempts; all this is impalpable as mechanism 
 but proves a mental state of superior quality. This mental 
 state is so important that when it is found it should have more 
 weight than success, which might be lacking. It cannot be demon- 
 strated that every normal person, without exception, must suc- 
 ceed in our game of "patience." There is always chance in the 
 game; one may be thrown out by a bad combination, to which 
 one adheres, or again one may repeatedly pass close to the solu- 
 tion without noticing it. Anyone may have his mind diverted. 
 It would never occur to us to make this game a test of normal 
 intelligence. 
 
 Let us notice now our defectives. Duneize, (middle grade 
 imbecile) after having received explicit directions, puts the pieces 
 one after another in a line, like soldiers, and does not even dream 
 of putting them together. One might question if she understood. 
 In any case, the game consists in a reconstruction, the recon- 
 struction supposes a uniting of the different parts. She cannot 
 form even a remote idea of all this. 
 
 Albert does better because he puts the pieces together, and 
 attempts to form a figure; but he makes no serious effort; he 
 puts them together haphazard, and the operation once accom- 
 plished, he does not change their position, and prevents all pos- 
 sibility of success by allowing them to overlap. His figure pre- 
 sents two faults: the first is that in its exterior form, it in no 
 way resembles an oblong; the second is that in its interior it 
 presents empty spaces. We point out to Albert the two defects 
 of his construction, then we show him the card which ought to 
 serve him for model: 
 
 Q. Is it like this? (showing the card) 
 A. Oh, no, because it is broken there. 
 Q. But could you not make it like that? 
 A. (with a convinced air) Oh! no. 
 
 This absence of continuation of effort is characteristic of such 
 subjects; they do not make a series of trials and errors, as do 
 so many normals; they dispose the pieces in any order that hap- 
 pens, and then sit motionless before their failure, making no fur- 
 ther attempt. 
 
 Griffon (moron) is more clever, he brings the edges of the 
 pieces together exactly, and is careful not to let them overlap. 
 
104 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 In his first attempt, he works completely at random, as though 
 he had lost sight of the model card, and his construction leaves 
 an empty space, without in any way forming an oblong as to 
 exterior form. We point this out to him. He begins again. 
 His second attempt is better than the first, he succeeds in eliminat- 
 ing the empty space and thus his first error is corrected. But 
 he cannot bring the whole to resemble an oblong. After many 
 other equally fruitless attempts, we are convinced that Griffon 
 cannot succeed because he does not improve. 
 
 Finally Bard, high grade moron, begins the work with more 
 reflection. She compares the dimensions of the pieces with those 
 of the model; she fills the spaces left by the large pieces then 
 she brings the large ones together, constantly keeping in mind 
 the general form. "I don't believe that that is it," she says, 
 and she begins again, turns and returns the pieces, and finally 
 succeeds. 
 
 Here is certainly a simple experiment — child play one would 
 say. But it is on the contrary quite complicated and we shall 
 find difficulty enough in completely analysing it. What we have 
 established is that in presenting the card intact we set a definite 
 end to be attained, that end being to construct a figure having the 
 form and size of the card. One must adapt oneself to that end, 
 and this experiment has, like all the rest which are made in psychol- 
 ogy, though in a more marked manner perhaps, the character 
 of an act of adaptation. The different combinations which 
 are made are the means employed to attain that end. During 
 the test the hand is continually directed ; there is, as it were an 
 inner critic which counsels us, guides us, prevents us from commit- 
 ting an error or warns us when one is committed. Therefore we 
 make no combination which could create an empty space, or 
 if we commit this error we correct it immediately; in the same 
 way we do not lose sight of the general form, and if some combina- 
 tion causes us to lose the outline we abandon it at once. It is 
 by this direction and this control that we bring our work to a 
 good end, and it is by the absence of control that Albert and Griffon 
 fail; like us the two defectives bring the pieces together and try 
 combinations, but they have not as clear a view of the end to be 
 attained, they do not judge as surely the means they employ; 
 with them, chance takes all the ground which with us is occupied 
 by logic; and since chance cannot alone bring the result they fail. 
 
REASONING 105 
 
 An analogous explanation answers for other tests of adjustment 
 of which we shall cite simply two: j&nd rhymes for a given word; 
 construct a sentence containing three given words. Here again 
 we furnish a frame to fill, an end to attain; and our defectives 
 fail. Certain ones are incapable of finding any solution what- 
 ever, they cannot cite a single rhyme, or they cannot imagine 
 a sentence containing the three words. Others like Griffon, 
 who have more activity of intelhgence, find many solutions, 
 but they are false; thus the words they give do not rhyme, and 
 the sentences they form have no sense. 
 
 What conclusions can we draw from all this? We do not 
 say absolutely that a defective cannot adapt himself, that he 
 cannot represent to himself the end, and that he does not try 
 to adjust his means to this end. What we do say is that he 
 has not been able to adapt himself to the very special difficulty 
 which we have empirically chosen for him, and that if we dimin- 
 ish the difficulty he will adapt himself. Instead of cutting the 
 card into 10 pieces, let us be satisfied by cutting it into two or 
 three, and certainly Albert would succeed in reconstructing it. 
 There is therefore in all this only a question of degree. The 
 work of an imbecile has this great fault of adopting the first 
 combination which comes, however crude it may be; it is chance 
 which leads him to put one piece near another; he holds to this 
 and does not change the combination even when shown that it 
 is wrong. In other words, he takes what is nearest him, making 
 no effort to look beyond; his intelligence, let us say it once more, 
 lacks penetration. 
 
 Let us content ourselves for the moment with this expression. 
 Later, at the end of the work, when we set forth a scheme of 
 thought, we shall return to this analysis and push it farther. 
 
XI. SUGGESTIBILITY THROUGH DOCILITY 
 
 If, according to our custom, we attempt to divine the facts be- 
 fore investigating them, and consequently conjecture the influence 
 that age and mental development might exercise upon sug- 
 gestibility, we shall make two preliminary remarks. In the 
 first place, it is incontestable that inferior beings have less judg- 
 ment than superior ones, and we have seen by many examples 
 how often imbeciles lack judgment. Since it is by the accuracy 
 of his judgment as much as by the quality of his character that 
 an individual combats the judgments of those about him, we 
 shall expect to find that those who lack judgment are more 
 credulous than others. Besides every one knows that the child 
 is more credulous and more suggestible than the adult. The 
 "why" of his curiosity is readily satisfied with the first "because" 
 that comes along; and nothing is easier than to impress him, 
 intimidate him, and render him obedient; however unaccustomed 
 one is to school children, one must recognize that the power 
 of direction which is exercised over them is made possible by 
 their age. All these considerations lead to a provisional con- 
 clusion, which is this: it is probable that suggestibility, other 
 things being equal, must decrease as the intellectual level rises. 
 
 Is this true? Yes, certainly. But observation will give us 
 some instructive details. It will show us first and above all 
 that two forms of suggestibility exist, the one only apparent, 
 the other very real. 
 
 To appreciate the suggestibility of a person, one must be able 
 to compare him to some one else taken as a type, who has been 
 submitted to the same influence. It will not suffice to reproduce 
 examples and incidents of suggestion accomplished; that might 
 be amusing but it does not constitute a criterion. One must 
 find out whether an imbecile placed under the sway of the same 
 suggestion as a normal, reacts in the same way, or with more 
 intensity or with less. 
 
 Several years ago, one of us published methods for submitting 
 a waking adult to suggestion and for measuring his suggestibility. 
 
 106 
 
SUGGESTIBILITY 107 
 
 Many of those methods are not appHcable to an imbecile, be- 
 cause they require an amount of intelHgence and of attention 
 that he does not have. Thus there is one method that con- 
 sists in copying hnes of increasing length presented separately; 
 the subject is so impressed, after a time, by the regular increase 
 that when presented with lines equal in length to the longest, 
 he believes them to be still increasing and draws them constantly 
 longer and longer. Albert is not sensible of this increase in 
 length, because he does not notice it, in fact when a line is given 
 him to copy, he pays no attention to its length; and if two unequal 
 lines are shown him, the inequality does not show itself in his 
 copy. One cannot be surprised then if he remains insensible 
 to the increased length of the lines. In order to subject an imbecile 
 to suggestion, one must place oneself at his level. Without this 
 precaution one would be in danger of believing that an imbecile 
 is not suggestible, and that would be the very opposite of the truth. 
 
 Another method which we have before indicated for the study 
 of normals, succeeds equally well with imbeciles. One shows 
 them for a certain length of time, a card-board presenting a great 
 number of objects and designs; then one questions them upon 
 their incomplete recollection, introducing into the questions 
 numerous snares for suggestion; for instance, one makes use of 
 an alternative question; the stamp that was shown was green, 
 and one asks, "Was that stamp red or green?" or one asks the 
 shape of the hat worn by a person who in reality was bare-headed. 
 An adult, submitted to these leading questions, does not notice 
 that he is being pushed gently in a definite direction, and that 
 a hand is being laid upon his thought; this action remains un- 
 conscious or more often semiconscious. He has a vague feeling 
 of uncertainty, of uneasiness, almost of embarrassment; and 
 from time to time, he resists the suggestion completely, or else 
 he escapes by an expression of doubt, analogous to this: ''I do 
 not know; I cannot recall exactly." One can thus count the 
 number of snares he has avoided and approximately measure his 
 suggestibility. It is a measure, because on the one hand, all the 
 questions are written in advance and the experimenter does not 
 change a single word, and on the other hand, one knows the 
 average number of snares avoided by the subjects. In general 
 they avoid a good half. 
 
 Albert, our imbecile, fell promptly into all. His suggestibility 
 
108 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 is much greater than the average for adults; and what is more, 
 he has none of those states of doubt and uneasiness so frequent 
 among normals. He replies immediately, without hesitation, 
 and with a perfect tranquillity. Beauvisage, notwithstanding 
 her rebellious character, comes under the influence of the experi- 
 ment and falls into the snare many times, though rather less 
 frequently than Albert. 
 
 It is evident that these methods, arranged for normals, are 
 too delicate for imbeciles. They must have less delicate ones 
 and we are going to present a series of tests which we have devised 
 for them, and which are for them like garments cut to measure. 
 In order to have terms of comparison we have repeated each 
 test upon other patients in the asylum. 
 
 Assent without motive. There is a first sign of suggestibility 
 which is easy to arouse among imbeciles; it is giving assent to 
 an obscure affirmation or simply to the interjection "Isn't that 
 so?" It is sufficient to look at them and remark with authority 
 these few words "Isn't that so?" even without saying anything 
 else. Immediately they reply "Yes," as though one had proclaimed 
 a truth. It is a sign of suggestibility which can be brought out 
 among school children, especially among those very young, 
 from seven to eight years; toward fourteen years, a pupil often 
 remains unmoved, does not reply, or looks at one in an astonished 
 way, or even demands an explanation. 
 
 The re-filling of a box. We have here the same compliance 
 in following an order the repetition of which would give offense 
 to a normal. If one overturns a box of pins before them and 
 says, "Gather these up," they gather them with whatever skill 
 and activity they may possess. When they have finished, we 
 overturn the box again, and scatter the pins on the table; one 
 does not even need to renew the order; they understand what is 
 expected of them, and they willingly gather the pins up again, 
 without showing astonishment, without asking why they are 
 given such an utterly useless task. They are profoundly serious, 
 and one sometimes sees some choice examples of stupidity. Albert, 
 for instance, gathers up the scattered pins with the greatest 
 care, and is even so scrupulous that as he collects them he ar- 
 ranges the heads to stand together, and holds them between his 
 thumb and forefinger; then when a little bundle is collected, he 
 throws them pell-mell into the box which causes him to lose all 
 
SUGGESTIBILITY 109 
 
 the benefit of the arrangement. How far could one carry this 
 experiment? Albert gathered them up five times in succession 
 and that took nine minutes. At this point we stopped, not be- 
 cause his docility was exhausted but our patience. Albert had 
 not murmured in any way nor made the least observation. Vic- 
 tor gathered up the pins twelve times in succession, without 
 any remark, showing the same docility. 
 
 Is this a form of suggestibility peculiar to imbeciles? 
 
 Yes and no. Many normals have obeyed us when the experi- 
 ment was given under special conditions of seriousness and decorum, 
 as when they were sick in a hospital, or called in by a doctor, 
 or when they imagined that there was the interest of study in 
 the exercise, from which a benefit to their health would result. 
 
 In fact many dementia patients have obeyed us when we 
 subjected them to this treatment, and have refilled the box 
 a great number of times. Others have resisted, or have made a 
 great many reflections aloud, showing that they sought for but 
 could not understand the purpose of our order. One subject, 
 a victim of senile dementia, was remarkable for his resistance. 
 In a word it has seemed to us that one need not be clearly sug- 
 gestible to refill the box. 
 
 The chair is called a cork screw. One must make the same com- 
 mentaries upon the following experiment, which seems to realize 
 one of the most daring suggestions. We rise, we take a chair 
 and show it to the imbecile. 
 
 Q. What is that? 
 A. A chair. 
 
 Q. Serious mistake! It is not a chair, it is a cork screw, (a pause) 
 Let us see, what is this? (and we present again the chair) 
 A. A cork screw. 
 Q. Upon what are you sitting? 
 A. Upon — a cork screw. 
 
 This test succeeds invariably with all our imbeciles, even the 
 most rebellious; and one can believe that it would require a 
 very low mentality to thus consent to change the name of a 
 familiar object. It is evident that in a company of friends 
 one who attempted to try this experiment would have very little 
 success. But it is altogether different at the hospital and in 
 the atmosphere where we are working. We have repeated the 
 ceremony of this sort of re-naming with very many dementia 
 
110 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 subjects who are in no way suggestible; and we have not yet 
 encountered a single one who had the idea of not submitting 
 to our wish. What did these dementia patients really think? 
 Probably that it was a caprice on our part, a lack of seriousness. 
 In any case they obeyed like our imbeciles. Therefore these 
 first experiments of suggestion prove nothing, because they 
 succeed upon a host of patients and probably upon those in 
 health as well. 
 
 The suggestion of the dog. We arrive now at suggestions very 
 much more profound,which shock good sense and cannot succeed 
 except where persons are really suggestible. 
 
 The suggestion of the dog is a very complicated scene which 
 we do our best to act out. In the first place we talk with our 
 collaborator, and ask him in a loud voice to bring the dog that 
 is in the yard into the room. He consents. We open the door, 
 and call Follette, and allow the imaginary dog to enter, and 
 with many gestures, and much demonstration make him jump 
 upon a chair placed near the imbecile. Then we say to the 
 latter : 
 
 Q. Do you see the pretty dog? 
 
 A. Yes, monsieur .... 
 
 Q. He is nice, isn't he? 
 
 A. Yes. 
 
 Q. Caress him 
 
 Denise, who is demonstrative, takes the chair, lifts it and 
 brings the seat to her mouth; a great kiss resounds. 
 
 With Albert the scene is prolonged, and takes on more breadth, 
 because Albert speaks. 
 
 Q. What color is the dog? 
 
 A. It is white. 
 
 Q. Is its hair curly? 
 
 A. No, it is white. 
 
 Q. Caress it, why don't you? 
 
 Albert passes his hand gently across the cane of the chair. 
 
 Q. Here is a biscuit. Make him eat. Does he eat? 
 A. (after having made the appropriate mimicry, but soberly) Yes, 
 monsieur. 
 
 Q. Tell me, my dear Albert, what will you do with this dog? 
 A. What will I do? I will feed him. 
 
SUGGESTIBILITY 111 
 
 Q. Yes, but do you think you would be allowed to have a dog in this 
 place? 
 
 A. Oh, no. 
 
 Q. Well, if they scold you what will you say? 
 
 A. I could say nothing. 
 
 Q. Do you think they would see it? 
 
 A. Oh, yes, they would see it. 
 
 Q. Couldn't you hide it? 
 
 A. Oh! no. 
 
 Q. Perhaps you could! 
 
 A. Perhaps so. 
 
 Q. You ought to give him a little walk about the room .... 
 
 A. (Rising, and whistling to the dog) Come, come! 
 
 Q. Take him to the steps. 
 
 A. (To the dog) Go to the steps! Go, jump! 
 
 We see that the imbecile does not at all develop the sugges- 
 tion given him. His lack of vocabulary and especially of imagina- 
 tion, render him brief; he keeps the hallucination just as it is 
 given to him. This has very little resemblance to the mimicry 
 and the loquacity of a hysteric under suggestion, especially of 
 Baret, that brilliant subject of the Salpetriere, who did not stop 
 short of literature, and made of the least suggestion a romance 
 or a poem. 
 
 Griffon (moron) received the suggestion of the dog and ac- 
 cepted it as completely as Albert did. He lowered his head, and 
 seemed very timid. When the dog had jumped upon the chair, 
 Griffon, at our invitation, stretched out his hand toward the 
 chair to caress the dog, but he did it with only the faintest ges- 
 ture; he seemed abashed by what was asked of him. 
 
 It is needless to add that patients, other than our defectives, 
 are not susceptible to this suggestion. An old woman, with senile 
 dementia, before whom we played the scene, looked at us with 
 disdain and shrugged her shoulders. A young woman, who 
 shows that she does not lack intelligence when one can distract 
 her a moment from her maniacal excitement, laughed in our 
 face and said, ''I won't do anything." Even a subject very 
 much advanced with general paralysis, showed himself skeptical, 
 ''Where is your dog?" he asked, looking under the table; then 
 he sat back saying with assurance, "There is no dog here." 
 
 The suggestion of the General. Here is another hallucination 
 which succeeded with Albert. We give it in detail because 
 Albert here plays a role more active than in the preceding case. 
 
112 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 It is what we call the "hallucination of the General." It is 
 so audacious that we did not dare try it upon any subjects that 
 we did not already know to be very susceptible to suggestion; 
 we should have covered ourselves with ridicule. 
 We said very seriously to Albert: 
 
 Q. I have something very interesting to tell you. A General is com- 
 ing here very soon. The General comes to see you. Unfortunately Dr. 
 Simon and I are obliged to leave. Will you receive the General in our 
 place? 
 
 A. Yes, Monsieur. 
 
 Q. Ah! here he is! 
 
 We go to the door. An exchange of salutations takes place 
 with the imaginary General. Albert is presented to him. Albert 
 gets up and bows in his turn. The General is made to sit down 
 near him. Albert, never very active, says nothing. But he is 
 serious and is far from laughing or ridiculing. We wait. Noth- 
 ing happens. As the silence threatens to continue and as, natur- 
 ally, the General is as far from being loquacious as the imbecile, 
 we whisper to Albert — . 
 
 Q. Talk to the general, why don't you .... 
 
 Then Albert, in a natural voice, speaks to him, says several 
 words, and seems to wait for a replj'', then says more words; 
 we can represent this dialogue of one person in the following 
 manner : 
 
 Albert — Monsieur General .... 
 The General — 
 
 Albert — Monsieur General, things are going very well. 
 The General — 
 
 Albert — Well I worked in the market every morning, I made 20 sous. 
 The General — 
 
 Albert — Yes, I had an employer 
 The General — 
 
 Albert — It suited me very well. 
 The General — 
 
 Albert — And then I did errands, and helped in the house. I swept the 
 rooms, and I acted as porter. 
 The General — 
 Albert — That is all. Monsieur General. 
 
 We understand by that last sentence that the conversation 
 is finished. It is very impressive. One would think he was in 
 
SUGGESTIBILITY 113 
 
 the presence of some high personage on a tour who visits a hospi- 
 tal and addresses a few kindly words to a workman. That would 
 take place about as Alfred imagines and it is curious that the 
 whole of such a conversation could have been carried on by an 
 imbecile. 
 
 In order not to lose this scene, we photographed Albert and 
 the General together. Then, as the presence of the General 
 
 FIG. 18. THE SCENE OF ALBERT WITH THE GENERAL. THE PICTURE WAS 
 TAKEN AFTER SAYING TO ALBERT: "THE GENERAL IS SEATED IN THAT 
 CHAIR. SIT DOWN BESIDE HIM AND WE WILL TAKE YOUR PICTURES TO- 
 GETHER." 
 
 might become burdensome, we made him leave and Alberts 
 at our request, accompanied him to the door, bowing as he left- 
 In order to know if the memory of this hallucination (admit- 
 ting that it was one) persisted or if all was forgotten, we ques- 
 tioned Albert twenty-one days after it happened. He remembered 
 everything and seemed convinced of the reality of what was 
 suggested to him. 
 
114 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 Q. What did I show you on that chair? 
 
 A. A little dog. 
 
 Q. And with whom did I photograph you? 
 
 A. With the General. 
 
 Q. What was the General like? 
 
 A. He was dark. 
 
 Q. But his costume? 
 
 A. It was maroon. 
 
 Q. And his hat? 
 
 A. It was maroon also. 
 
 Q. What else do you remember? 
 
 A. I took the little dog for a walk. 
 
 Q. And then? 
 
 A. I made him jump. 
 
 Q. Here, in this room? 
 
 A. Yes. 
 
 Q. What was the color of the little dog? 
 
 A. He was white. 
 
 Are there any limits to this suggestibility? It seems so easy 
 to handle, even without preparation of any kind, that one would 
 be inclined to believe that an imbecile is soft wax. But we are 
 inclined to believe rather that it is their deference for us which 
 makes them so. It is certain that we do not succeed in making 
 our imbeciles do and say all that we wish. Thus Albert consents 
 to be called Victor and when, after giving him a lesson, we ask 
 his name he says Victor. But Victor will not accept this ex- 
 change. He refuses to say that his name is Albert. He offers 
 the same resistance for a change in the names of the days. One 
 of our experiment days is Saturday, the day before his sister 
 comes to visit him; as she always brings him a package of to- 
 liacco this visit seems to him very important; he knows that it 
 will take place next day and no one can make him change. Hear 
 him speak. 
 
 Q. Is today Thursday? 
 
 A. No, monsieur, it is Saturday, (laughing in a mischievous way) 
 You want to tease me. 
 
 Albert will hot let himself be taken in any more than the others. 
 
 Q. What day is today? 
 
 A. Saturday. 
 
 Q. Are you sure? 
 
 A. Yes, I am sure. 
 
 Q. I have heard say it was P>iday. 
 
SUGGESTIBILITY 115 
 
 A. No, it is Saturday. 
 
 Q. Listen, I am going to prove to you that it is Friday. Yesterday 
 was Thursday. But the day which comes after Thursday is Friday. So 
 you see it is Friday. 
 
 A. No, It is Saturdaj'. 
 
 Curious resistance in a person who ordinarily swallows the 
 greatest absurdities. Several minutes before Dr. Simon had 
 gone out, and we had said to Albert. 
 
 Q. How old do you think Dr. Simon is? 
 A. I don't know exactly. 
 Q. Well, about how old? 
 A. Perhaps fourteen years! 
 
 Q. Oh! more than that! Some one told me he is a hundred. Do you 
 believe he can be that old? 
 A. Oh! yes. 
 
 Whence comes this striking difference of attitude? We think 
 we have discovered it. In the first place, Albert, like Victor 
 and Denise, is always ready to acquiesce in what he does not 
 understand. A hundred years is only a word for them, a word 
 void of sense. They do not resist. Besides when one suggests 
 to them a dog or a General one does not run counter to any well 
 established convictions; but they insist upon Saturday because 
 it is the day before Sunday when their relatives visit them, they 
 expect their relatives, and this expectation is important to them; 
 and they know also that a certain piece of money is worth ten 
 sous and they will not permit it to be called anything else. They 
 are therefore in an antagonistic state which opposes itself to 
 suggestion. We shall cite several other examples quite typical 
 of lack of suggestibility. 
 
 Q. You know that Dr. Simon has gone .... 
 
 A. Yes .... (In reality Dr. Simon is there at the table, writing 
 our dialogue). 
 
 Q. Sit in his place .... You shall be the doctor. (Albert gets 
 up, but is embarrassed.) 
 
 Q. Sit down in his chair since it is vacant! 
 
 In the end Albert does not sit. He does not speak, he seems 
 confused, like a child caught doing wrong. 
 Another suggestion : a theft. 
 
 Q. Here, Albert, do you see that music-box on the table? 
 A. Yes, monsieur. 
 
116 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 Q. When no one is looking go and take it. You will steal it and bring 
 it to me and I shall put it in my pocket. (Albert goes to the table, but 
 does not take the object.) 
 
 Q. See here! What are you doing? Why didn't you take it? 
 
 A. (Embarrassed) Because I mustn't. 
 
 Q. But no one will know you have taken it. 
 
 A. The watchmen. 
 
 Thus even the most docile imbeciles can resist suggestion when 
 they have some reason for resistance. 
 
 Now when they yield, when they believe or seem to believe 
 blindly what we say to them, is it because of the weakness of 
 their mental level? Does their suggestibility depend upon their 
 intelligence? One might think so; and we admit, moreover, 
 that there is a partial truth in this supposition. But the princi- 
 pal factor of their suggestibility is not their intelligence but their 
 docile character. The proof of this is that we have encountered 
 imbeciles less intelligent than Albert, who refuse to yield to our 
 suggestion. Cretin would not even look at the dog; and Beau- 
 visage, asked to caress it, replies directly, "There is no dog." 
 This is sufficient proof that the suggestibility of Albert does not 
 come from his mental level but from the deference which he has 
 for us. But can deference render any one susceptible to sugges- 
 tion? This is a delicate point. If the preceding interpretation 
 is correct, it leads to the following conclusion. Our imbeciles 
 have done for us what we asked simply to give us pleasure, and 
 as for the hallucinations of the dog and the General, nothing 
 proves that they really existed. Their entire mimicry may have 
 come from a desire to be agreeable. An American, Sidis, has 
 well sustained this last curious and paradoxical opinion, cer- 
 tainly false in general, that suggestions acting upon hysterics 
 determine only one thing, a simulation wholly exterior to the 
 phenomena suggested. This may be true of certain ones, not 
 of all, because there are infinite individual variations in the man- 
 ner of yielding oneself to suggestion. But why not admit the 
 theory of Sidis for our compliant imbeciles? 
 
 For a long time we hesitated; in order to decide the question, it 
 must be put in a precise manner and we were afraid to spoil our 
 subject, Albert, by questioning him; because to speak to him of 
 his hallucinations, would be to ask him to analj'se them, to give 
 him doubts, to put him in the way of the truth. When the experi- 
 
SUGGESTIBILITY 117 
 
 ments were ended, a month after they were begun, we decided 
 to make this inquiry. In what follows we reproduce the dialogue 
 literally, according to our custom. 
 
 Q. Tell me, Albert, do you recall the story of the dog? 
 A. (He blushes at first and does not reply for a long while, hanging 
 his head). 
 
 Q. What color was it? 
 
 A. It was white. 
 
 Q. And then what else did you see? 
 
 A. The General. 
 
 Q. What was he like, the General? 
 
 A. He was brown. 
 
 Q. What did he do? 
 
 A. He talked with me. 
 
 Q. And then? 
 
 A. (No reply). 
 
 So far Albert seems to admit the reality of his perceptions. 
 Let us attempt with much discretion to test his convictions. 
 
 Q. Very well, that little dog, and then the General, were they people 
 like us? 
 
 A. Ah! the General, yes. (He has not understood the point of the 
 question, he wishes to say that we are not like dogs). 
 
 Q. But is it true that you have seen him? 
 
 A. Yes. (He smiles, his eyes glisten). 
 
 Q. Well, why does that make you laugh? 
 
 A. Because you talk to me of the General. (Seems confused — laughs 
 as he lowers his head). 
 
 Q. But why do you laugh in speaking of the General? 
 
 A. It's a joke you played on me. 
 
 Here then the truth is out. 
 
 Q. But have you seen him? 
 
 A. (With hesitation) No, I didn't see him. 
 
 Q. But you talked with him. 
 
 A. (Hesitating) Yes. 
 
 Q. He said something to you? 
 
 A. He asked me what I was doing. 
 
 Q. You heard him? 
 
 A. (Timidly) Yes. 
 
 Q. Then you heard him? 
 
 A. Yes, I heard him. 
 
 Here again it would seem he is, under the spell of the sugges- 
 tion, even though in our questions we put no accent of authority. 
 
.118 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 Q. Tell me how all this happened. 
 A. The General talked to me. 
 Q. But you thought it was not true? 
 A. (Embarrassment — smile — no reply). 
 
 Q. But at the time you thought there was a General there? 
 A. Oh! no! 
 Q. But why? 
 A. Oh, I do not know. 
 Q. But the dog, you believed that. 
 
 A. The dog? Oh! yes, because I know that it is an animal. (Unintelli- 
 gible reply.) 
 
 Q. You thought there was a dog on the chair? 
 A. (Timidly) Yes. 
 Q. What? 
 A. No. 
 
 Q. But you caressed it ... . You put out your hand like that 
 . . . . You were only making believe? 
 A. I don't know. 
 
 Q. Was it to please me that you made believe? 
 A. To be sure. 
 
 Here at last is the confession. We can only judge it by an 
 impression of the whole. We believe that Albert was never 
 duped. And now he is a little ashamed of his compliance and 
 is in a very troubled and complicated mental state when we 
 question him. He still wishes to agree with us, for he is too timid 
 to resist; hence his contradictions. All the time he tries to divine 
 our thoughts; we could still make him say anything we wished. 
 It is the same with a docile pupil, obedient, industrious, who, 
 called to the Director's office, conducts himself like an automaton. 
 There is therefore a particular form of suggestibility which is 
 wholly superficial, caused by compliance and which depends 
 upon temperament. It is what might be called docilit3\ 
 
 It is important to emphasize this, because the error that we 
 have been upon the point of making, other alienists have made. 
 Kraepelin, for instance, has the habit of testing the judgment 
 of certain dementia subjects, by studying their attitude when 
 an absurd affirmation is made to them. One day he asked an 
 old woman, a dementia case, "Isn't the snow black?" And she 
 answered playfully, "Yes, if one puts soot on it," he concluded 
 very justly that the woman did not lack judgment. We think 
 she has also the courage of her opinion. It is not proved by any 
 means that those who acquiesce in an absurd proposition, spoken 
 with authority by a doctor, have fallacious minds ; they are rather 
 
SUGGESTIBILITY 119 
 
 the extremely docile, who do not dare contradict. It is impor- 
 tant, therefore, when one makes studies upon judgment not to 
 confound false judgment and docility. 
 
 Precisely what is docility? One may consider it, as we our- 
 selves have considered it in all that precedes, as an appearance 
 of suggestibility, a sort of simulation of real suggestibility. But 
 it seems to us more philosophical to admit that it constitutes 
 a suggestibility of a particular form. There are, in our opinion, 
 two forms of suggestibility which have not been sufl&ciently 
 differentiated; the suggestion of hallucinations, of ideas, of con- 
 cepts on the one hand, and the suggestion of acts, of words, of 
 mimicry on the other. Docility is a suggestibility which shows 
 itself simply in acts, words, attitudes. The fact has escaped 
 notice that the mental conditions of the two orders of phenomena 
 are not the same; the formation of an hallucination supposes 
 not only a false perception, but a suspension of the critical sense; 
 pn the contrary, for the execution of a suggested act, it is not 
 necessary to have a consistent conviction. This latter sugges- 
 tion encroaches less upon the personality. It is not the reason 
 of the agent which bends, it is his will, his character. One may 
 have suggestibility of character without having suggestibility 
 of reason. 
 
 With our imbeciles these two forms of suggestibility exist; 
 let us recall the experiments with alternative questions; Albert 
 and Beauvisage are more sensitive to this than some normals; 
 and in this case it is truly a question of a suggestibility which 
 paralyses the critical sense. The intellectual level certainly has 
 an influence upon this suggestibility; it is proportionally high 
 as the level is low. Besides this, imbeciles, at least those who 
 do not belong to the rebelhous type, have suggestibility of char- 
 acter, in other words, an extreme docility; and this may cause 
 an illusion in regard to their suggestibility of reason; one can 
 believe that they are credulous and completely duped, when 
 they are simply pretending. We would never have believed 
 that imbeciles could have thus played the comedy of complacency 
 with such a serious air. In truth the moral of this story of the 
 General is that we believed we had deceived an imbecile, whereas 
 it was the imbecile who deceived us. And with modesty we 
 apply to ourselves the ancient saying of Merlin the enchanter, 
 "Whoever seeks to deceive others often deceives iiimself." 
 
XII. HOW A MORON CAN HAVE L'ESPRIT FAUX 
 
 One of the most curious of the psychological problems which 
 are set for us by imbeciles is that relative to the development 
 of their judgment. It goes without saymg that imbeciles have 
 but little judgment, but do they make errors of judgment? Or, 
 to speak in a general way, does mental evolution proceed by suc- 
 cessive steps in which one finds at first an abundance of false 
 judgments, then little by little, more correct judgments? Sup- 
 pose two beings A and B who are at very different mental levels. 
 If A is inferior to B in intelligence will he be more liable to false 
 judgment? That is the question. Without hoping to answer 
 it entirely we shall try to look at it closely by studying a very 
 curious defective, named Griffon. 
 
 We have often spoken of him ; it is necessary to indicate briefly 
 his intellectual level, in order to allow the fallaciousness of his 
 mind to be better appreciated. 
 
 He is a moron and not an imbecile, because he can read; he 
 reads fairly well, with good intonation; he writes from dictation 
 and spontaneously; he can compose a coherent letter by him- 
 self if one gives him the subject; he makes many mistakes in 
 spelling, but one can understand the text. In arithmetic he 
 can add, subtract, and multiply; he fails in a problem of propor- 
 tion. This puts him at the level of instruction of the second year 
 of our elementary course; it is about the level of a child of eight 
 years. But he also knows a good many things that are taught 
 in the higher grades and even many that one learns only later 
 in life. As to instruction he is, therefore, far superior to an 
 imbecile; but he is not a normal. A normal might have had less 
 instruction, but he would succeed in the psychological tests in 
 which Griffon fails. 
 
 In fact Griffon cannot arrange five weights in order; he cannot 
 succeed in ''the game of patience," nor find rhymes, etc., tests 
 easily passed by children of from eight to ten years.' 
 
 ' We refer to some results furnished by our measuring scale of intelli- 
 gence. (See "The Development of the Intelligence of Children," p. 182.) 
 
 120 
 
L ESPRIT FAUX 
 
 121 
 
 Socially also he is a moron, because lie lives at the expense 
 of his famil}^ and is not capable of following a trade. He has 
 been hired as a laborer by many different employers and has 
 been regularly dismissed at the end of two or three months. 
 For a long while he has stayed at home where he busies himself 
 in cleaning the apartment. He is of a good disposition, but selfish, 
 
 FIG. 19. 
 
 GRIFFON, MORON TWENTY-EIGHT YEARS OLD; MENTAL LEVEL OF 
 A CHILD OF EIGHT YEARS. 
 
 and shows a decided aversion to women. He has no vices and 
 does not drink. His chief occupation is reading; he loves read- 
 ing, even reads at night; so strong is this habit that if he has a 
 book in his hand he will continue to turn the pages even when it 
 is quite dark. We have this information from one of his rela- 
 tives. If he were not a moron we should say that he was "un 
 intellectuel." 
 
122 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 We have spoken of him as an extraordinary case of fallacious 
 mind {esprit faux). This is a mental type which is rarely to be 
 met with in such a degree of perfection cn^en among imbeciles 
 and morons. Many of them have a lower level than Griffon; 
 they have never been able to learn to read ; Ijut they do not talk so 
 much nonsense. Intellectual inferiority, and what may be called 
 a fallacious mind {esprit faux) are therefore two very different 
 mental states; the first, at least, can manifest itself independently 
 of the second. 
 
 From the very beginning of our conversation with him Griffon 
 utters a whole swarm of absurdities. Listen to him. We ask 
 him to tell us about his apprenticeships ; he replies that he worked 
 two months with a baker. 
 
 Q. Why did you leave the baker? 
 
 A. Someone was needed to take my place. 
 
 Ridiculous reason! He takes the effect for the cause. He 
 remained several years in Paris, living at the expense of his mother 
 and not even attempting to find a place to earn a little money. 
 We ask him: 
 
 Q. Why did you not find another phice in Paris? 
 
 A. We thought of returning to Chalons .... As I had still 28 
 days to serve and 13 days .... 
 
 Thus it was for such a motive that he remained doing nothing 
 until he was almost thirty; because it was a question of leav- 
 ing Paris to return to Chalons, where he had a military term to 
 complete! 
 
 He has served two years. We questioned him in legard to this. 
 
 Q. Were they sometimes cross to you in the regiment? 
 
 A. Oh, no, monsieur. We went to exercise twice every day. 
 
 The reply has no bearing upon the questions. We ask him 
 other questions about his family. 
 
 Q. How many brothers and sisters have you ! 
 .4. I have three brothers and one sister. 
 Q. Give me the names of your brothers. 
 A. Eugene Griffon, Armand Griffon, Valentine Griffon. 
 Q. Eugene and Armand, that makes only two brothers, and then? Who 
 is the third? 
 A. It is I. 
 
l' ESPRIT FAUX 123 
 
 He is therefore his own brother. We ask him many questions 
 in order to find out the amount of liis information. In certain 
 cases his errors can be attributed strictly to his ignorance, for 
 instance when he tells us that Paris is the capital of the "Cote- 
 D'or." It is, however, very serious ignorance. But in other 
 cases the absurdity is undeniable, because he contradicts himself. 
 
 Q. Who is the president of the Republic? 
 A. M. Carnot. 
 Q. What? 
 
 A. At Lyons, , assassinated by Ravaillac, no, Cesario, in the month 
 of June, '94. 
 
 Q. He is still president? 
 
 A. No, he is dead. 
 
 Q. Who has replaced him? 
 
 A. M. Felix Faure, who is deputy. 
 
 Q. But now? Who is president of the Republic? 
 
 A. It must be M. Casimir-Perier. 
 
 Q. He is still president? 
 
 A. Oh, I don't think so. He must have resigned. 
 
 This is not ignorance, since he is quite well instructed; it is a 
 singular error to name Carnot, then Perier as actual president; 
 then add that one is dead, and that the other has resigned. 
 
 Q. You read the paper? 
 
 A. Yes, monsieur. 
 
 Q. You are interested in it? 
 
 A. I read about the accidents and the concerts. 
 
 Q. Politics a little. 
 
 A. Yes, Monsieur. 
 
 Q. What are your political opinions? 
 
 A. Catholic. 
 
 Q. And then? 
 
 A. Protestant. 
 
 Q. And then? 
 
 A. Jew. 
 
 He seems not to understand the sense of the word and that one 
 cannot be at the same time Catholic, Protestant and Jew. This 
 does not mean that he has not had enough instruction, but he 
 makes a singular use of his instruction. 
 
 Q. What, river passes through Paris? 
 A.^The Seine. 
 
 Q. Where does the Seine empty? 
 A. Into the Rhone. 
 
124 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 Q. Where does the Rhone empty? 
 
 A. Into the Lionne. 
 
 Q. Where does the Lionne empty"^ 
 
 .4. Into the Durance. 
 
 Q. Where does the Durance empty? 
 
 A. Into the Mediterranean Sea. 
 
 Q. Where does the Mediterranean Sea empty? 
 
 A. Into the Atlantic Ocean. 
 
 Q. Where does the Atlantic Ocean empty? 
 
 A. Into the Pacific Ocean. 
 
 Q. Where does the Pacific Ocean empty. 
 
 A. Into the Indian Ocean. 
 
 Q. Where does the Indian Ocean empty? 
 
 A. Into the Arctic Ocean. 
 
 Q. Where does the Arctic Ocean empty? 
 
 A. Into the Pacific Ocean. 
 
 His historical information presents the same incoherence. 
 
 Q. Who is Louis XIV? 
 A. He is an emperor? 
 Q. Do you know something of him? 
 
 A. He administered justice sitting at the foot of an oak tree. I have 
 seen that in a history, going to school. 
 
 Q. What else do you know of Louis XIV? 
 
 A. He was a Royalist. 
 
 Q. What more? 
 
 A. He held the government of the Republic. 
 
 Q. How long were you in school? 
 
 A. Until I was thirteen. 
 
 Q. From what age? 
 
 A. From seven years. 
 
 Q. What do you know of the Revolution of '89? 
 
 A. It was the working man who revolted against the people. 
 
 Q. And then? 
 
 A. They killed themselves. 
 
 Q. And how did it all end? 
 
 A. In a proposition of peace. 
 
 Q. To whom? 
 
 A. To the government. 
 
 Notice carefully that in this nonsense there is, however, a basis 
 of instruction. 
 
 Q. Are all men equal? 
 
 A. Sometimes. That depends upon the party to which thej' I^elong. 
 Q. For instance? 
 
 A. There are Catholics, Protestants, Jews, clericals, revolutionists, 
 socialists, anarchists. 
 
l'esprit faux 125 
 
 Q. But are they equal? 
 
 A. They are about equal in death. 
 
 Q. And in life? 
 
 A. They are all about equal. They work together in the field, in the 
 factories of the town, in business. 
 
 Q. Is justice equal to all? 
 
 A. Yes, monsieur, there must be someone to represent it. We are its 
 representatives on earth. 
 
 Q. Who represents it? 
 
 A. The man and the woman. 
 
 All this is said with the eyes lowered, in a gentle, timid, whining 
 voice. The subject has not at all the manner of mocking us 
 nor of being intoxicated with words. Observe that we do not 
 lead him on to all these absurdities, we do not exercise any pressure 
 over him, we make no suggestion. We know already and have 
 demonstrated before, that in addressing an individual who is 
 at the same time defective and docile (both these conditions are 
 equally necessary) and asking him certain questions with author- 
 ity, we can obtain from him unreasonable replies. Griffon is 
 no exception to this rule. We could easily induce him to say that 
 his name was Bertrand and not Griffon, that a thief is an honest 
 man and that snow is red, and other absurdities, to which one 
 might readily suppose that he subscribes for the sake of being 
 agreeable. But what we are now describing is a totally different 
 thing. It is the absurdities which we do not suggest, and which 
 come from Griffon spontaneously, and for which he alone is re- 
 sponsible. Let us cite other examples? 
 
 Q. Who was Pasteur? 
 
 A. A great savant who cured the rabies with the virus. 
 Q. Tell me more about it. 
 
 A . He invented machines for curing the rabies, using animals and rabbits . 
 Q. And Napoleon? 
 
 A. He was an emperor who commanded the army. 
 Q. Gambetta? 
 
 A. He was a savant, a deputy, who represented the republic. 
 Q. Victor Hugo? 
 
 A. He was a senator, deputy, who represented people at the Chamber of 
 Deputies. 
 
 Q. M. Thiers? 
 
 A. He was a deputy of the Chamber of Deputies in Paris. 
 
 Q. M. de Sans-Souci? (Name invented by us) 
 
 A. He is a Merry Andrew, who plays the clown in the circus. 
 
 Q. The Duke de Trevise? (Name invented by us) 
 
126 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 A. A man who represents a landed property. A reactionary. 
 
 Q. M. Durand? (Name invented by us) 
 
 A. He is a commercial traveler who deals in cloth. 
 
 Q. Ali Bentailo? (Name invented by us) 
 
 A. He is a king who represents savages. 
 
 Some of these replies are grotesque, others are quite ingenious; 
 the last three, for instance, correspond sufficiently well to the 
 nature of the word we had invented. 
 
 Q. Where does milk come from? 
 
 A. From the cow that feeds on the grass in the fields. 
 Q. Do oxen give milk? 
 
 A. Not much. They drag the plow, they are made to work in the 
 fields. 
 
 Q. Where does ink come from. 
 
 A. It is a plant they cultivate in Africa to make ink of in the factories. 
 
 We will also cite his remarks upon portraits and pictures. 
 A photograph representing an operatic singer in costume ap- 
 pears to him to be a "harlequin in a boat with oars on a river, 
 going to learn to swim in case of wreck, etc." 
 
 Without question of any sort from us, he utters many absurdi- 
 ties; for instance, on being asked to make a sentence containing 
 the three words Paris, fortune, river, he does not hesitate to write 
 the following sentence, which has no meaning: "This fortune of 
 the river of the prairie of the portion of the god-father." 
 
 Asked to recall the pictures shown to him, he cites two from 
 memory correctly and seven others which he has not seen and 
 which he invents. Asked to name samples of colors, he does so 
 in the main, correctly; but when he comes to a gray tint, he says 
 "tricolor." When asked to recount something which he has 
 just read, he does so without sparing the absurdities. Thus he 
 explains that a man has been killed in an accident on the street, 
 and that he has been carried to the hospital in a serious condition; 
 or again, reversing the facts, he recounts that robbers had arrested 
 a commissioner of the police, and conducted him to the guard 
 house, while of course the paper stated the exact opposite. 
 
 It is clear that in condensing all these examples of absurdities 
 we have made them seem exaggerated. Griffon, in an ordinary 
 conversation, commits fewer errors of judgment than would appear 
 from the above; one can even talk with him during a minute or 
 two, without his making any break. It is when he is asked some- 
 
l'esprit faux 127 
 
 what complicated questions that he is particularly apt to make 
 these blunders. 
 
 This moron has received, as we have said, some instruction; 
 he can read and can write a passable letter; we had him write 
 one to his parents; it was legible, comprehensible, correct, and 
 without nonsense. He counts money well. His memory for 
 immediate repetition of sentences is normal, and rises as high as 
 26 syllables. His attention is good, and his reaction times al- 
 though long, are not out of reason. 
 
 At first sight one is tempted to attribute all his errors of judg- 
 ment to his instruction. He seems to have received an amount 
 of instruction out of proportion to his degree of intelligence. 
 It would be a curious example of the results which are obtained 
 in applying the ordinary methods of instruction to an subnormal 
 subject. Evidently Moliere was right when he said that ''an 
 educated fool is more a fool than an ignorant fool." But it 
 would be unjust to accuse solely the school that Griffon 
 attended until he was thirteen. There is in him a natural, con- 
 genital defect, a weakness of judgment; this weakness has been 
 put in clear light by the instruction he has received, but the in- 
 struction is not the direct cause of the weakness. 
 
 How are we to represent the state of his judgment? The errors 
 of judgment which may be committed are of many different 
 kinds. There are some that are plainly apparent, which come 
 from the inexact use of words; persons suffering from senile de- 
 mentia, and from aphasia often commit them; they take one 
 word for another, or else forget the beginning of their sentence 
 before they finish it, and hence they make utterly false asser- 
 tions, of which they are not conscious. Other errors of judg- 
 ment have a kind of system like those of persons suffering from 
 melancholia or delusions of persecution, who persist in their 
 false ideas, and sometimes even seek to demonstrate them by 
 all kinds of reasons. 
 
 The mistakes of Griffon do not belong to either of these cate- 
 gories; they are errors of judgment very much more nearly akin 
 to those which we normals commit. The mechanism of these 
 errors seems to consist in a lack, a failure of evocation of the 
 reasons which would show the falsity of the affirmation. It is 
 what is called n'entendre qu'une cloche. How often, in fact, we 
 accept the first idea that presents itself. How easily we allow 
 
128 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 ourselves to be prejudiced against people because we accept 
 what others say against them, and we do not even think of what 
 might be said for them. One could also attribute this error of 
 judgment to negligence or to distraction. In any case, it is 
 like a judgment by default, because the opposing party is not 
 represented at the hearing. In each instance one might rebuke 
 Griffon because he had not paid sufficient attention. Thus he 
 does not notice the blunder he made when he counted himself 
 among his own brothers; he does not notice that he absurdly 
 calls a gray tint "tricolor;" he does not see that in putting three 
 words into a sentence he has written something without sense, 
 nor that he replies to a question which is incomprehensible for 
 him, nor yet that he contradicts himself when he says that Casimir- 
 Perier is actually president of the Republic, and that this same 
 Casimir-Perier has resigned, etc. 
 
 Wliat proves that he fails through lack of attention, lack of 
 reflection, let us say through lack of control, is that he knows 
 enough to correct himself, if he applies himself. Thus, search- 
 ing for the name of the tint gray he says "tricolor." If some 
 demented person having a fixed delusion, had made this error, 
 .he would have explained it in a logical manner; for instance, by 
 insisting that every color is truly tricolor, because it is made up 
 of three fundamental colors, and other absurdities. Griffon said 
 it without even noticing it; the proof of which is, that a month 
 afterwards when we ask him the meaning of the word tricolor, 
 he replies "The French flag is tricolor." We ask him again, "If 
 we say that a table is tricolor what does that mean?" "That 
 means," says Griffon, "that it is variegated." Evidently, the 
 first time he had used incorrectly, without noticing it, a word 
 whose meaning he understood. Another example: he said to 
 us that at the time of the Revolution, the laboring class fired on 
 the people. This is not a positive error of judgment, it is again 
 a lapse, because on another occasion, when we asked him of 
 what the people is made up he replied that the people is made 
 up of the laboring class. 
 
 But however innocent these lapses may be, they are neverthe- 
 less marks of a peculiar mentality, when they are so abundant 
 as with Griffon; and we have now to put the question which 
 we raised at the beginning of this chapter; is it characteristic of 
 a weak intelligence to commit so many errors of judgment? 
 
l'esprit faux 129 
 
 We do not think so. We have indeed seen some imbeciles and 
 some morons, whose intellectual level was equal to or even in- 
 ferior to that of Griffon. None of them, if we except Cabussel, 
 excelled as he does, in absurdities. Albert, for instance, protects 
 himself from insidious questions by a simple "I do not know," 
 and others are silent. This allows us to suppose that the falsi- 
 ties of judgment are not a necessary consequence of weakness 
 of intellectual level; they express rather a discord. This is the 
 way it appears to us. Albert, Victor and many others are short 
 in all their faculties, but their faculties are well coordinated. 
 Without doubt their judgment is weak enough, but so is their 
 imagination and their memory, all is weak, and consequently 
 the intelligence is proportionately low. If it is true that the 
 judgment acts as a check, it matters little that it is weak, since 
 the motor which it must watch over and regulate has little power. 
 On the contrary Griffon shows, like Cabussel, a certain intellec- 
 tual activity, and even something more, a certain fertility and 
 ingenuity of imagination. Question him and he never remains 
 without a reply. He finds an answer for all, even for those things 
 of which he is ignorant or which he does not understand. He 
 tells you the origin of ink, he defines in the most fantastic manner 
 the word which he does not know. In his inventions he shows 
 some imagination; and there is some merit in his finding that 
 M. de Trevise represents a landed proprietor and a reactionary, 
 while M. Durand is the name of a commercial traveler; it is a 
 work of invention which resembles that of a dramatic author, 
 in due proportion of course. And it is in this slight intellectual 
 activity, in this little gift of imagination that the secret of his 
 absurd judgments may be found; he has too much imagination 
 for his power of control, or too little control for his power of 
 imagination. Truly it is not well for a defective to have too 
 much imagination. 
 
 Our general conclusion will be that the particular state to which 
 we give the name of "esprit faux," a state which is sometimes 
 to be found among imbeciles, does not correspond to a regular 
 period of psj^chological evolution; it is a somewhat exceptional 
 state, which results from a lack of harmony between the inven- 
 tive faculties and the corrective faculties, like an equipage where 
 the number of reins is not in proportion to the number of horses. 
 
XIII. A SCHEME OF THOUGHT 
 I. Preliminaries 
 
 The general impression which is obtained when one passes 
 some time with imbeciles or idiots is that they are literally "les 
 pauvres d'esprit," poor in mind. They do not differ from nor- 
 mals as certain types of dements do, by unexpected and some- 
 times original and fantastical phenomena which are like extra 
 attachments to a well-known mechanism; the difference is not 
 one of more but of less. The defective is a normal who lacks 
 something. 
 
 But in what does this lack consist? If ever the notion of higher 
 processes and of inferior processes had any chance of application 
 in psychology, it is truly applicable to this type of individuals. 
 One feels that it is especially the higher part of the intelligence, 
 the most delicate, the finest that is not developed in them; they 
 are reduced to what is coarsest and, consequently, to what is 
 the most simple, the most elementary and the most general in man. 
 
 But this is only a very vague conclusion, and we must try 
 to make it exact. It is curious to see how prone we are to hide 
 behind words what we do not thoroughly understand. The 
 above difference, when it has been employed to express the 
 distinction between man and the animal, has received different 
 names; in man, reason, in the animal, instinct. We have also 
 used and abused the term degree. It has been said that the 
 intelligence of a child differs from that of an adult in degree only. 
 But in exactly what does this degree consist? And what distinc- 
 tion can be made between the difference of degree and the dif- 
 ference of nature? Authors do not agree upon the meaning 
 of these expressions when they attempt to fathom them, which, 
 by the way, they prudently avoid. In short, it is singular that 
 the principle of psychic development should be so poorly defined 
 that no one at the present moment can tell the essential dif- 
 ference which separates the intelligence of a child from that 
 of an adult. 
 
 130 
 
A SCHEME OF THOUGHT 131 
 
 Alienists and psycho-pathologists have at least had the merit 
 of introducing one clear idea into this domain when they have 
 admitted that with many dementia and hysteria cases the va- 
 rious symptoms, delirium, convulsions, strokes, etc., can be ex- 
 plained by two combined causes; the unchaining of automatism 
 and the suppression, the paralysis, the inhibition — in a word 
 the putting out of service, of the higher processes. This interest- 
 ing conception, taken literally, leads us to admit that there 
 exist in us two activities of a different nature, the one inferior, 
 called the inferior psychism or automatism, the other superior, 
 called reflection, will, the synthesis (la synthese). While those, 
 who have pushed this conception farthest and have put the 
 most ingenuity into developing it, have maintained that there 
 are all the transitions possible between these two forms of men- 
 tal activity, and that we pass gradually from the one to the other, 
 other authors have not taken these reservations into account; 
 they have seen here faculties so different that they have wished 
 to attribute to them a different localization in the nerve centers; 
 there are, according to them, certain parts of the brain devoted 
 to the automatic life, while other centers have the higher func- 
 tions of attention and reflection, coordination and perception. 
 It has long been admitted that the frontal region of the brain 
 is the seat of these higher processes. Recently, a neurologist, 
 pushing this theory to the limit, has proposed to call the center 
 of this higher life Center O, and he has introduced into the ex- 
 planation of the psychological mechanism of various symptoms, 
 like aphasia, hysteria, spiritism, and many other cases, the 
 use of this center ''0," which sometimes excites, sometimes in- 
 hibits the lower centers, sometimes is itself paralyzed, which 
 thus permits the lower centers to develop a hyper-activity with- 
 out restraint. 
 
 Without doubt this hypothesis of two wholly different activities^ 
 the one superior, creative, S3mthetic, the other inferior, con- 
 servative, analytic, has already rendered great service to certain 
 phases of mental pathology. Notably it appears to apply to 
 hysteria, to mental dissolution, to obsessions, and to spiritism. 
 But perhaps an exclusive consideration of these types of phe- 
 nomena has tended towards a certain exaggeration, when one 
 has attempted to form a general concept of the human mind, 
 using this one sided hypothesis as a key. 
 
132 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 Without wishing to combat this hypothesis directly, we shall 
 here try to limit it. It does not apply indiscriminately to all 
 types of subjects. It has been extended somewhat artificially 
 to normals. We shall show by an extended study of defectives 
 that it does not apply in any way to them; it does not explain 
 in any way the character of their defects. It would not apply 
 any better to children. In a word, it may be that we have a 
 conception, which is valuable perhaps for certain modes of func- 
 tioning of the mind ; but which is not, however, a general principle 
 of the development or of the genesis of mind. 
 
 There exist among certain imbeciles and among the unstable, 
 fantastic ideas, impulses, sudden paroxysms of rage, wild pranks. 
 Possibly one might admit that these episodical phenomena are 
 explained by a bursting forth of this automatic life, that is to 
 say in the modern phrase, a lack of synthesis; let us put it better: 
 a simultaneous lack of coordination and of hierarchy. One 
 may understand from this that these impulses take on so much 
 importance because they have escaped the control of the higher 
 faculties. So be it. But all defectives do not by any means 
 present phenomena of this kind. Besides it is not because they 
 present them that they are defectives. Outside of these accidental 
 troubles they have a peculiar mental state, characteristic of 
 defectives, which is imbecility, idiocy, or moronity as the case 
 may be; and what we insist upon is, that in order to explain this 
 chronic mental state, one has no right to speak of lack of synthesis, 
 as is habitually done; here the expression has no sense whatever, 
 and those who employ it are parrots. 
 
 2. Distinction Between the Faculties and the 
 Acquisitions 
 
 In the analysis of the mental states of defectives, which we 
 now begin, we shall make a fundamental distinction by which 
 many subsequent misunderstandings may be avoided. We must 
 not confound our mental faculties with the practical results, 
 knowledge, acquisitions and powers of all sorts, which, thanks 
 to these faculties, we acquire. 
 
 The practical acquisitions are of the following order; reading, 
 writing, arithmetic, professional skill, the manner of gaining 
 one's living, etc. This is a matter of instruction. The mental 
 
FACULTIES AND ACQUISITIONS 133 
 
 faculties are what are commonly called attention, memory, 
 judgment, reasoning, abstraction, etc. This is intelligence. 
 
 The practical results obtained by a defective evidently depend 
 upon his intellectual faculties, and also upon his character, as 
 well as upon the environment in which he is placed; and, like- 
 wise, the dependence upon the intellectual level is so close that 
 we believe it to be possible, when we observe a subject of a cer- 
 tain level, to foresee for all time, whether he will be incapable 
 of learning to read. There is, therefore, an important relation 
 between the intellectual faculties of an individual and the prac- 
 tical results which he may obtain from them. It is the same 
 relation which exists between a science and its applications. 
 But, if one wishes to compare any individual with the normal 
 type, from the point of view of his intelligence and to discover 
 thus how far inferior to the normal he is, one perceives that the 
 comparison is put in very different terms, according as one's point 
 of view is the practical result or the intellectual faculties. 
 
 Taking account only of the practical acquisitions, that is of 
 instruction, we find an absolutely clear difference between the 
 two subjects. The normal child of seven years can read hesi- 
 tatingly; an imbecile even of twenty years cannot read, and 
 can never learn to read. This is an excellent criterion for dis- 
 tinguishing one from the other. Reading is a barrier which 
 will separate them for all eternity; it is moreover a limit which 
 suffers no distinction of more or less, it is absolute. One can 
 come to an understanding on this point because it is a question 
 of fact, and our understanding will be clearer if we take the pains 
 to define what we mean by reading; if we distinguish the pro- 
 nouncing of syllables from hesitating reading, and this from 
 fluent reading. We could cite also as an example of a practical 
 result, the use of speech. We have said that speech does not 
 result from a faculty, and that we do not possess a faculty of 
 speech, as we do the faculty of paying attention, or of memory.^ 
 
 Speech is an application, a practical result of our faculties com- 
 parable, for example, to the art of playing chess; and indeed if 
 we take the word art in its technical sense, we might say with 
 perfect truth that speech is an art. Let us repeat that speech 
 belongs to instruction. Besides, speech serves as an excellent 
 
 ^ See Language and Thought, Part II, this volume. 
 
134 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 criterion for distinguishing a whole group of defectives; idiots 
 are mute, whereas imbeciles speak. 
 
 Let us turn now to the intellectual faculties and see if they 
 can furnish us with an analogous, distinctive criterion. In other 
 words is it possible to cite known mental faculties which belong 
 to normals and are not to be found among defectives? Formerly 
 this was believed, and certain authors believe it still; but this 
 is because they have submitted their subjects to incomplete 
 observations. Let us make an enumeration. Is the defective 
 radically incapable of attention? Evidently not. We have 
 proved, even with idiots, that they give undeniable evidences 
 of attention. Recall the idiot Vouzin, who looks at us a little 
 especially when we call him loudly, and who for a moment even 
 showed spontaneous attention, when he took the music box 
 from our hands. Is it memory that is lacking? Not that either. 
 We have noted many instances of prolonged memory among them. 
 Denise, the poor girl, remembered for several days the object 
 that we had called "Papa."^ 
 
 Are they strangers to the notion of number? This has been 
 believed, because they employ at random the names of numbers 
 which they do not understand; but some precise tests have shown 
 us that they have a distinct consciousness of plurality even when 
 they cannot name it. Is it then critical sense, judgment that 
 they lack? Certainly judgment often fails them; or rather they 
 can be placed in certain conditions where it would require a 
 particular degree of judgment for them to be equal to the situa- 
 tion, and they cannot attain it. But in other cases they cer- 
 tainly show some judgment, for instance when Albert refuses 
 to be the dupe of a suggestion. We may thus pass in review all 
 our faculties, and determine that not one is entirely lacking in 
 them. They always have them in some degree. The arsenal 
 of their intellect is equipped with all the weapons. 
 
 Another means of arriving at the same conclusion consists 
 in repeating an experiment that had been attempted by them 
 but in which they had failed; let that experiment be simplified 
 by replacing it with another of the same nature but easier, and 
 the defective immediately takes his revenge. A certain move- 
 ment cannot be accomplished in ten seconds; he does it in twenty 
 
 ^ See Language and Thought, Part II, this volume. 
 
THE DIEECTION OF THOUGHT 135 
 
 seconds. He cannot repeat four figures; but he can repeat two. 
 He does not understand a certain sentence; but he comprehends 
 another that is shorter and less compHcated. He fails in a ''game 
 of patience" formed of ten pieces; he succeeds if the number of 
 pieces is only three. Sometimes it is not easy to simplify a 
 test; but every time that it is reduced sufficiently, one can be 
 certain that the defective will be able to succeed. 
 
 This truth, verified repeatedly, frees us from the necessity 
 of undertaking an investigation whose result can be foreseen, 
 or of putting any questions which seem on reflection to be use- 
 less or without sense. Thus there is no need of asking whether 
 or not an imbecile has any esthetic sense. He will always have 
 at least a trace. Show him two figures, one pretty, the other 
 ugly, and he will be able to make a distinction between them 
 if you carry the degree of deformity far enough. 
 
 All this leads to the conclusion that the difference between 
 the defective and the normal is not produced by the absence of 
 a particular faculty, and alienists who in their definitions have 
 seemed to insinuate the contrary, have deceived themselves. 
 But these are all very negative conclusions; and now, after having 
 said what is not, it is time to say what is. 
 
 III. The Direction of Thought 
 
 In order to group all the facts collected we are going to present 
 an hypothesis; this hypothesis cannot explain everything nor 
 cover everything; we shall limit ourselves to considering a single 
 side of the question, the intellectual side, leaving for another 
 time the study of the instincts and the emotions. In a word, 
 we are going to present a scheme of thought and show how this 
 scheme can explain the differences which we have encountered in 
 the intelligence and bearing of a defective, and also to explain 
 exactly in what the evolution of the intelligence consists. Our 
 scheme should represent not only the mechanism of the thought, 
 but its evolution. Here we arrive at the culminating point of 
 our study, at the important general idea, which gives the evalua- 
 tion and the summary of all the little observations in detail. 
 
 Whenever one has tried to define thought (we take the word 
 here in its broadest sense), there has been a general tendency 
 to give too great importance to mental images, thought being 
 
136 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 thereby reduced to an act of contemplation, the contemplation 
 of an image. But many observations, experiments, and reason- 
 ings have shown us that thought is not a passive state, but rather 
 a system of actions. James has repeatedly insisted, as we our- 
 selves have done, upon the possible existence of conscious thought 
 which is produced without the aid of images;^ and on the other 
 hand it has been shown that to think does not consist solely 
 and passively in taking cognizance, but in trying, in feeling 
 one's way, in choosing. All these preliminary views can take 
 a more exact form, thanks to the following scheme. 
 
 Thought, as we believe, is composed of three distinct elements; 
 a direction, an adaptation, and a criticism. These three elements 
 characterize a complete thought, but they may be lacking in 
 an incomplete thought. In order to make our description better, 
 let us suppose a thought to be as rich as possible, very much 
 richer than it is in reality; we shall do as an author does who, 
 wishing to describe a regiment, describes without exception 
 all the possible auxiliary exercises, even those which never coexist 
 in the same regiment. 
 
 First the direction. To accomplish with consciousness and 
 surety an act of thought, we must first know ''what it is about." 
 We take, for instance, a problem in addition; we know that we 
 must add, we have constantly this idea of addition in our minds, 
 and it is necessary, because this idea produces an effect upon 
 every figure with which we operate; we encounter for instance, 
 a figure 3 and a figure 7, written one over the other; one might 
 multiply them, subtract them or add them. If we add them 
 it is because of the directing idea that we must make an addition. 
 In every experiment with an individual, one commences by giv- 
 ing him some instruction; this instruction, once it is understood, 
 serves as the starting point of the directing idea. It is the direct- 
 ing idea under the most conscious form in which it can be clothed, 
 the verbal form. 
 
 Thus we ask one of our defectives, Griffon, to name for us 
 all the red objects that he knows. He complies, and for two 
 minutes busies himself in citing seventeen red objects. There 
 are here two phenomena: the evocation of the names of red ob- 
 jects, and on the other hand, the order which we have given him, 
 
 ' See Experimental Study of the Intelligence, p. 81. 
 
THE DIRECTION OF THOUGHT 137 
 
 which he remembers, and to which he conforms. It is this order 
 which serves as a directing state of consciousness. These states 
 of consciousness function continually in us normals. They 
 are veritable orders which we give ourselves. But they are not 
 always conscious orders. In the beginning, when we com- 
 mence an art not yet learned, we have the full consciousness of 
 the directions we are to follow; the beginner in painting distinctly 
 remembers 9,nd can even formulate the numerous rules which 
 he learned from his professor, and which are necessary for him 
 to remember in order to cover every centimeter of his canvas 
 with color. But little by little, the influence of the directing 
 state becomes weaker on the movement of the thought and of 
 the hand. One no longer needs to make an express appeal 
 to the verbal formula of the instructions; it falls into the vague 
 state of an intellectual feeling, or even completely disappears. 
 Some authors have recently made a curious experiment which 
 demonstrates what we have just said; this is accomplished by 
 means of controlled association of ideas. A word is given to the 
 subject, and he must find a second, which stands in an exact 
 relation to the first, for instance of subordination or of superordi- 
 nation. At first the subject is obliged to recall the order; he re- 
 peats it to himself, he is even obliged to have it so vividly in 
 his consciousness that he sometimes visualizes it in a way to 
 be his guide; then little by little he thinks of it less; in the end 
 he does not think of it at all; and yet only such words as conform 
 to the instruction present themselves. The directing state, 
 from being conscious has become unconscious: but it is like the 
 manager who from behind the scenes watches and directs the 
 actors on the stage. 
 
 These few facts borrowed from the history of our normal 
 life, permit us to know in what the direction consists. We also 
 know by personal experience that cases present themselves 
 where the directing idea fails us. We do an errand, we go into 
 another room to look for an object, then, surprised we stop, 
 not knowing what we came to look for. Wie accuse our memory 
 or perhaps our attention; in reality it is the direction which has 
 suddenly failed us. In dreams, in reveries, we see images suc- 
 ceeding one another, but there is no plan, we do not know where 
 we are tending, there is no purpose, we drift without direction. 
 
 Among our defectives, we often encounter an absence or weak- 
 ness of direction which manifests itself under two different forms; 
 
138 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 either the direction, once commenced, does not continue, or it 
 has not even been commenced because it has not been understood. 
 
 The direction often grows very weak among imbeciles. We 
 see it when we talk with them. In conversation, intelligent per- 
 sons are attentive to what we say, they look at and listen to us; 
 what would distract them is repulsed, annihilated, remains in- 
 effective. In a conversation of this kind there is no order given 
 to listen, it is a sentiment of curiosity or of deference which pro- 
 duces the direction. We have seen how this direction may be lack- 
 ing under certain circumstances with imbeciles and idiots ; we have 
 described all these failures in the chapter on attention. Some- 
 times the direction fails entirely of being established. Vouzin 
 instead of listening to us looks all about him; nothing is coordi- 
 nated in his case; these psychological elements remain scattered. 
 With others, like Denise, the direction can form itself, but it 
 is very precarious; the current is established, but it is easily di- 
 verted; with others the distractions are transitory, and the 
 current may of itself again take up the first direction. We 
 are studying here the formation of a tendency altogether ele- 
 mentary, the tendency to coordination and systematization ; it 
 is necessary not only for carrying out an exact psychological 
 experiment, but also, which is much more important, for the 
 adaptation of a human being to his environment. 
 
 We have said there are other circumstances where the direc- 
 tion fails through lack of comprehension; speaking in common 
 terms, our imbecile receives an order but does not execute it 
 because he has not understood. This is what happens with a 
 good many of our tests. We tell an imbecile, for instance, to 
 compare two boxes and to indicate the heavier, and he does not 
 succeed. If he does not succeed it is not because it is impossible 
 for him to perceive the difference of the two weights. As we 
 have often proved he can very well perceive this difference; 
 but he is embarrassed by the necessity of making a comparison; 
 he does not understand the meaning of the experiment; he does 
 not see that he must take a box, weigh it in his hand, remember 
 its weight, then weigh another, compare it with the first, decide 
 which of the two is the heavier, and point it out. In regard 
 to this, children show the same embarrassment as imbeciles, 
 they do not understand the directing idea. Here is another 
 example. One may understand, may even begin an action, 
 
THE ADAPTATION OF THOUGHT 139 
 
 then suddenly cease to understand. We have had particular 
 occasion to observe this among general paralytics. An operation 
 is given them to perform, for instance a subtraction; in the mid- 
 dle of it they no longer remember where they are, and begin to 
 add instead of continuing their subtraction. Or again, they 
 have commenced the study of a problem. They have seen that 
 27 must be multiplied by 36; they do the first part of the multi- 
 plication correctly, then they stop, they are lost. It is as though 
 in their heads they had been playing chess and some one came 
 along and hit the chess-board, jumbling the men together. They 
 are obliged to abandon the problem. 
 
 Thus one of the first characteristics which distinguishes a 
 superior from an inferior intelligence, is the power of directing 
 the thought; and this power of direction manifests itself in two 
 ways: by its complexity and by its persistence. Let us further 
 remark how the position which we have taken differs from a 
 theory wide-spead in psychology, which gives all the efficacy 
 to the idea, to the sensation, to the movement, to isolated phe- 
 nomena, while we believe that the first fact, the most important 
 of the psychic life, is a coordination which gives to the current 
 of ideas a definite direction. According to the adherents of 
 the first theory, which we may call the theory of psychic atomism, 
 the attention is only of the one idea, it is a state which results 
 from the isolation of one idea reigning alone in an empty con- 
 sciousness; a singular theory which would hardly apply to an 
 idiot, because, since it is very probable that the idiot has fewer 
 ideas than the normal, the idiot must approach nearer to that 
 desideratum of an empty consciousness and consequently must 
 be more attentive than the normal. Observation shows us that 
 the contrary is true, and we can very well understand it; the 
 idiot does not coordinate, and without coordination there is 
 no attention. 
 
 IV. The Adaptation of Thought 
 
 Continuing the exposition of our scheme, we shall speak of 
 adaptation. There is not only a direction in the movement of 
 thought, there is also a progress; this progress manifests itself 
 in the nature of the successive states through which one passes; 
 they are not equivalent, the first is not of the same value as the 
 
140 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 last. One arrives at the last state only because he has already 
 passed the first state. This progress, seen as a whole and as 
 it were from without, has often received the name of choice; 
 thought, in order to evolve, makes a selection; it consists in con- 
 stantly choosing between many states, many ideas, many means, 
 which present themselves before it like routes which diverge 
 from a crossroad. The figure seems to us suSiciently accurate. 
 To think is constantly to choose in view of the end to be pursued ; 
 the formula is so true that it might be given a thousand different 
 applications. But it has one fault, it is too brief; it states a 
 result, the choice, that is to say, not a selection made with volun- 
 tary discernment, but the mere fact that the thought, placed 
 before a host of possibilities, realizes but one. This is too brief, 
 because we do not say in what the progress consists nor by what 
 mechanism it manifests itself. 
 
 The explanation becomes at once better if we observe that the 
 quality of the states of consciousness as they evolve is different 
 and varies according to law. In fact the first states through 
 which one passes are indefinite, the last states are definite; the 
 first are undetermined, the last are more determined. Thought, 
 one may say, tends to a determination ; it even consists in a deter- 
 mination; it starts from chaos where everything is indefinite, 
 to end in a realization which by its definite contours resembles 
 the reality. This explanation is certainly better than that of 
 choice. 
 
 It has sometimes been believed that this stage of beginning 
 resembles a general idea, and that the progress of thought would 
 be from the general to the particular. The truth is, that in all 
 the observations where one has been able to see closely the true 
 progress of thought, in reading for instance, or in the conception 
 of a sentence, the idea at the beginning lacks individualization, 
 and becomes individual only by further work. Thus for instance, 
 say a word to a person, and try to grasp what that word suggests 
 to him. There is in this case, a very vague first stage, then comes 
 one more precise, with a better determined thought. At the 
 beginning the idea is embryonic. To call it general seems to us 
 to start from an altogether false conception. The general idea 
 is an exact idea and not a vague one; it is an idea that includes 
 numerous possibilities of individual application, and consequently 
 it seems to us to be rather a multiplication of exactness, and a 
 
THE ADAPTATION OF THOUGHT 141 
 
 sum of individualizations rather than any indetermination what- 
 ever.* 
 
 Let us go farther; thought is not only an exact determination. 
 Its object is not a disinterested existence, and without bearing 
 upon the necessities of life. Like nutrition and respiration, it 
 is a vital function; it exists only because it is of use. It serves 
 to adapt us better to the physical environment of nature, and 
 to the moral environment of our fellows. Every idea, as has 
 often been said, leads to action or contains a potential act. But 
 the idea would be of no use if its determination were not exact; 
 it must be exact in order that the means may adapt itself to 
 the end, in order that the thought may adapt itself to the goal 
 to be pursued. Every thought is like a key which must fit exactly 
 in the hole of some lock. 
 
 These adaptations presuppose many realized conditions; first 
 that the end to which one adapts oneself be posited, then that 
 it be chosen, finally that it be attained. 
 
 Posited; we wish to say that it must be definitely stated so 
 that one knows where one is going. Many cases are possible, 
 because nothing is more varied in shade than the psychic life. 
 Sometimes the end is as definite as a formula in algebra, and 
 in fact, to solve a problem in algebra is to make an effort toward 
 an end which is expressed by the very terms of the problem; 
 the end is put in an equation. Sometimes the end remains 
 vague; it is a general idea, an ideal of beauty, of goodness, of 
 truth, of justice, that each one interprets in his own way and which 
 sometimes is felt rather than expressed. As often happens, 
 feeling, that sort of confused thought, takes the place of the 
 clear idea. 
 
 The choice of the end is not less important nor less difficult. 
 In every day life many different ends present themselves to us, 
 and we are obliged to make a choice. The thought is higher 
 in proportion as the choice is better. We have said in relation 
 to attention — and it might be remarked in relation to will, reason, 
 and even to feeling — there exists a hierarchy among possible 
 acts of adaptation; there are insignificant acts, and others that 
 are important; there are those whose advantage is small and 
 immediate, others whose advantage is very great but remote. 
 
 ^ See in Experimental Study of the Intelligence, p. 135, a passage where 
 this point is studied. 
 
142 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 To know how to choose is to subordinate the lower nature, to 
 dominate the instincts, to elevate life. The mentality of the 
 child, of the imbecile (and unfortunately also of many adults 
 who for this reason can never improve themselves), consists in 
 preferring the immediate pleasure of the moment, to the more 
 lasting pleasure of the morrow, and consequently in developing 
 an activity which does not calculate, does not reflect, and above 
 all does not economize, and which therefore cannot accumulate 
 capital. 
 
 But we shall not linger over these questions of choice of ends 
 for they do not come within the domain of the present study. 
 The choice of ends depends less upon the intelligence than upon 
 the emotional, the affective, the instinctive life. To mak;e a 
 broad distinction, one might say, the end is chosen by our ten- 
 dencies; but the means for attaining this end are combined by 
 our intelligence; our study must confine itself to the adjustment 
 of means to an end, which is the proper work of the intelligence, 
 and which constitutes adaptation. 
 
 When it is a question of a new action, the adaptation does not 
 take place immediately at the first attempt but by gropings, 
 that is to say by successive trials; one is like a locksmith called 
 to open a locked door; he searches in his bunch of keys and tries 
 many but he does not try them all indiscriminately, for he sees 
 at a glance those that will not fit; his attempts are not blind, 
 they are directed, selected, according to a complex mechanism, 
 which we have not the time to describe here. 
 
 All that is abstract in our description, disappears immediately 
 when we recall in detail the observations which we made upon 
 imbeciles. This appeal to experience will not only help to render 
 our scheme more clear, but will enable us to understand why the 
 defective remains stationary and does not continue his normal 
 development. 
 
 Thus, first of all, we shall explain how it is that for certain 
 operations an imbecile is equal to a normal person. We have 
 seen that defectives perceive slight differences of sensations for 
 weights or lengths almost as exactly as we do. This is because 
 there is no necessity for reflection, and the thought does not 
 need to evolve; it suffices to have consciousness of an elementary 
 sensation of difference — the act of thought is, in itself, elementary, 
 and if the state of consciousness has an extreme definiteness, it 
 
THE ADAPTATION Or THOUGHT 143 
 
 owes that definiteness solely to the sensation sensed, not to the 
 psychological operation of sensing. Moreover, we have already 
 noted that a normal subject who should continue to examine and 
 reflect would end by losing -the fine sensation of a slight differ- 
 ence. This is indeed a proof that all development of thought, 
 without going out to meet the result sought after, can be assured 
 only by producing a good state of attention. 
 
 Another case. We have shown, that in forming associations 
 with a word an imbecile succeeds as well as a normal. We ask 
 him to say any word, associated with the word pronounced to 
 him. This is an arbitrary procedure, a thought scarcely deter- 
 mined and really the operation required is suited to the mentality 
 of a defective, and we can understand that he willingly submits. 
 On the contrary the normal is uncomfortable, asks if he is to 
 say just anything, and is surprised at the small significance of 
 such an experiment; his discomfort is easily understood; habi- 
 tuated to adapting himself to an end in determining his thought, 
 he finds himself lost when he has no means of knowing to what 
 he must adapt himself, especially so when we allow him to sup- 
 pose there is no end to which he must adapt himself. Put aside 
 this particular mental state, and retain only the words said in 
 association, and we see that those of defectives are very nearly 
 of the same nature as those of normals and, moreover, paradoxical 
 as it seems to anyone who attaches an absolute value to the quick- 
 ness of thought, the defectives are more rapid, simply because 
 they do not choose, do not direct their thought, but give the first 
 word that comes to mind. 
 
 This is permissible in an experiment upon the association of 
 ideas; but they comport themselves in the same way in other 
 cases, where they should adapt themselves to a definite end. 
 Let us cite some examples. In order to make an inventory 
 of their knowledge we show them a piece of money or a playing 
 card, and ask them what it is. We are surprised at the difficulty 
 we meet with in determining exactly what they know, because a 
 one-franc piece will be called first 2 francs, then in another minute 
 1 or 3 francs or 2 sous by the same subject; in the same way, 
 when they are presented with a card, a nine of spades, they say 
 spades, or clubs, or diamonds; and if one insists upon being told 
 the number of points, they will say that it is 8 of spades, then 
 say that it is 7, or 10, or 9, or 4. In the face of these errors and 
 
144 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 contradictions, the inexperienced experimenter has a tendency 
 to become impatient; he is incHned to reprove the imbecile, 
 to chide him for his lack of attention, for it seems truly, that if 
 he took a little pains he could reply correctly. This would be 
 a grave error of method. The important thing is not to obtain 
 from the imbecile a correct reply; this would be the act of the 
 pedagogue and is here altogether out of place; the important 
 thing is to determine with precision that peculiar mental state, 
 thanks to which our defective is contented with the first reply 
 which comes to mind. 
 
 It is not quite the first response that occurs to him, it is rather 
 a lack of elaboration. The imbecile, of whom one asks the name 
 of pieces of money spread before him on the table, does not re- 
 ply with any random word; he does not say "It is a dog." He 
 gives the name of a piece of money. In the same way, if we show 
 him a square of red paper he does not name a piece of furniture, 
 he names a color; he says — incorrectly — that it is white or blue. 
 In other words he gives the genus for the species. It is there- 
 fore a first determination, very insufficient, but it satisfies him. 
 He goes no farther; he does not go far enough to name the right 
 color. 
 
 In the same way when he is shown a picture containing a 
 
 great number of objects, and we say to him: Where is the 
 
 suspending the voice at the moment of naming the object, it 
 sometimes happens that the imbecile, too eager to satisfy us, 
 puts his finger upon any object whatever. This is a form of 
 suggestibility caused in part, as we have shown before, by an 
 excess of deference and which results also from a facility for 
 saying no matter what without reflection. Nearly all the cases 
 of suggestibility which we have described among imbeciles reveal 
 just this particular mental state. 
 
 To fix the ideas, we have designated this state by an arbitrary 
 and truly clinical name: n'importequisme (no-matter-whatism) . 
 A thorough analysis would show that this n'importequisme is 
 very complex; we suppose that it has for its essential condition, 
 an absence of critical sense; the imbecile does not realize the 
 insufficiency of his reply, and it is necessary that he should not 
 realize it, otherwise he would not be satisfied with such a gross 
 approximation. We shall return to this point in a moment, 
 when we study that special element of thought — control. But 
 
THE ADAPTATION OF THOUGHT 145 
 
 in our opinion the n'importequism has need of two other con- 
 ditions, a thought that does not evolve, and a thought that 
 does not pullulate. 
 
 According to circumstances, one of these defects in the thought 
 of the imbecile will manifest itself more than the other. The 
 insufficiency of its puUulation shows especially in the "game of 
 patience," which consists in joining the pieces of the cards in 
 such a fashion as to reconstruct a whole. With this problem, 
 a normal person who really wishes to take the pains to succeed, 
 shows a remarkable abundance of ideas. One combination fail- 
 ing he tries a second, then a third and so on, either in maintaining 
 a part of the previous combination which seems to him good, 
 or in imagining an entirely new construction; there is a continual 
 struggle- between his memory and his imagination, and from 
 this struggle, fertile combinations are born. His intelligence, 
 encountering an obstacle, is like the water in a stream which, 
 arrested by a stone, turns back and struggles against the obstacle. 
 With the imbecile, the slowness of the production of ideas is 
 very striking especially when one has watched the work of a 
 normal. It is no longer living water that flows, but a streamlet 
 of wax that congeals. Not only does the imbecile content him- 
 self with something nearly true, owing to the absence of critical 
 sense, but moreover the number of attempts which he makes 
 is extremely small, two or three for example, where a normal 
 would make ten. Herein lies the explanation of the poverty 
 of ideas which makes any conversation with an imbecile so in- 
 sipid. Let us recall our friend Albert, who when warmly greeted 
 after a week's absence, "Well, well my dear boy! It's been a 
 long while since we've met! What have you done all this time? 
 Tell us all about it," replies simply — "I have swept." 
 
 Under other circumstances one sees in the imbecile less the 
 lack of puUulation than the lack of differentiation of the thought. 
 We might cite very many examples to support this; we shall give 
 only two sorts, which we have observed in the perception of 
 pictures and in the definition of terms. 
 
 It will be recalled that many imbeciles can say only a single 
 thing of the picture shown them, "There is a man, there is a 
 woman." We have made the summary remark that it was 
 through lack of penetration. The expression was superficial, 
 the analysis was summary; seen more closely the phenomenon 
 
146 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 reveals to us especially an arrest of intellectual development 
 through lack of differentiation. In what does the interpretation 
 of a picture really consist? It consists in completing the huage 
 by the appropriate evocation of an idea which adjusts itself 
 exactly to the picture, so that this interpretation is JGitting to 
 this picture and fitting to it only. The operation consists in 
 adjusting oneself to an end, and this end is furnished by the pic- 
 ture. We see in the replies of our imbeciles, that the adjustment 
 is far from being definite, and that their commentary on the 
 picture has nothing characteristic or individual. They say to 
 us, for example, of a picture which represents a combat of horses, 
 "There .... there are men," and they repeat apropos 
 of another picture representing men drinking at a table, "There 
 
 . . . . there are men." Identical replies for very dif- 
 ferent pictures. In other words their thought, instead of dif- 
 ferentiating itself in a particular manner to adjust itself to each 
 picture, remains vague, one might even say general, taking the 
 qualification "general" in the sense of embryonic; in a word 
 it does not evolve. It would fit any of the pictures shown them, 
 and consequently it properly fits none. It is this absence of 
 evolution which we have remarked about them, when they said, 
 in naming 1 franc, that it was 1 sou or 10 francs; only with this 
 difference; when our imbeciles name pieces of money or colors 
 or playing cards they make an effort at precision; they do not 
 say, "It is money, it is a color, it is a card," but rather, "It 
 is 1 franc, it is blue, it is spades," and by the very fact that they 
 are precise they fail. On the contrary their remarks upon pic- 
 tures remain true because they are vague and insufficient. 
 
 The same remark holds with regard to the explanation which 
 they furnish us or with the definitions which one can draw from 
 them. To the question "what is a horse," "a table," "a chair," 
 etc? they usually reply like a child of seven years, in terms of 
 use. "A table is to eat; a horse is to eat; bread is to eat; a spoon 
 is to eat." There is in this case, exactly as for the comments 
 upon the picture, an insufficiency of determination, because all 
 these formulas of use apply to all this group of objects only 
 because they do not exactly adapt themselves to any one; such 
 a definition is passable only because it is vague. It is the same 
 phenomenon, which is produced through lack of differentiation 
 in the thought. On occasion one can also distinguish in the 
 
THE ADAPTATION OF THOUGHT 147 
 
 replies another interesting character, the utihtarian predilec- 
 tion, but this belongs to the domain of the feelings, instincts, 
 and needs, and for the moment we are speaking only of the 
 mechanism of thought. 
 
 To sum up : the effort of adaptation of which the imbecile men- 
 tality is capable is arrested in two different ways; first, through 
 lack of successive attempts, which we have called lack of pullula- 
 tion of the thought, which is equivalent to a weakness of intellec- 
 tual activity; second, through lack of the work of differentiation 
 which is necessary in order that the exact adaptation of the 
 thought to the end be assured. Let us recall the comparison 
 of the key. The imbecile can try only one or two keys to open 
 the lock, and the keys are badly adjusted; the key grinds, and 
 the lock often does not open. 
 
 A word in regard to this. One will think, perhaps, that the 
 lack of intellectual activity and the lack of differentiation of the 
 thought go together, and are the same fact seen under two differ- 
 ent aspects. It will be supposed that every active thought must 
 evolve, adapt itself, differentiate itself, and that consequently 
 it is the weakness of the activity, which prevents the mental 
 evolution of the imbecile. In our mind this is an error of inter- 
 pretation. We do not believe that the causes of an intellectual 
 arrest can be reduced to a unity. These causes are many and 
 when one of them is suppressed the arrest may still continue 
 to be produced. We have made one observation which seems 
 instructive in this regard. It has impressed us very much. It 
 is the case of an imbecile named Cabussel, of whom we have al- 
 ready spoken. Cabussel does not resemble his fellow imbeciles 
 in all respects; he represents a type that is not common. Ordi- 
 narily an imbecile is slow and has but few ideas. It is difficult 
 to talk with him, his replies are short, and he scarcely ever makes 
 abundant remarks spontaneously. This is a particular mark 
 of his weak intellectual activity; if he is made to find and to pro- 
 nounce the greatest number of words possible in a give time, 
 he finds very few; certain of our imbeciles cannot find 20 words 
 in three minutes. 
 
 Cabussel, as we have seen, has a great deal of intellectual 
 activity; his activity is shown by the vivacity and abundance of 
 his conversation, which is such that we feel the need of a stenog- 
 rapher to take it down entirely; and yet his attention is not 
 
148 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 better, nor his intellectual level higher than those imbeciles who, 
 like Albert, have very much less activity. In particular, let us 
 recall that Cabussel, notwithstanding all his vivacity of speech 
 describes, in exactly the same terms as Albert, the pictures which 
 are shown him. He limits himself to saying, "There, that is a 
 man; there, that is a woman." This is certainly a proof that 
 thought can pullulate without evolving and that the level of 
 the intelligence is distinct from the activity of the intelligence. 
 
 V. The Correction 
 
 The last piece of mental mechanism which we shall attempt 
 to describe is the apparatus of control. This has been desig- 
 nated under different names; critical sense is the most commonly 
 known; judgment is the technical expression of psychologists; 
 auto-censure is a happy word, recently proposed by certain alienists 
 to name this faculty of control when it exercises itself upon it- 
 self. Perhaps this last point of view is the most interesting. 
 In effect it is a question here, before everything else, of a faculty 
 of control, which has for its object its own operations. When 
 we judge, we take one after the other, two attitudes; one is turned 
 towards the exterior world, which we perceive and evaluate; 
 the other, the fact of reflection, is turned back upon ourselves, 
 and it is ourselves that we evaluate. 
 
 It is evident that we all know this sort of auto-criticism and 
 that all of us have exercised it upon ourselves. It is familiarly 
 expressed in the dialogue of a naive person talking with him- 
 self, when he counsels himself before acting, and scolds himself 
 afterwards. It translates itself nobly in the monologues of the 
 classic theater, where the personage finds himself divided be- 
 tween the demands of duty and the impulse of his instinct. In 
 ordinary life, we pass continually from the role of actor to that 
 of judge; we are never sufficiently seized with the fire of action 
 or of feeling to lose the faculty of judging ourselves, or rather 
 the two attitudes are not successive but they mingle in a com- 
 posite whole; one is moved and at the same time is a conscious 
 witness of one's emotion; and even the cold and sensible reflec- 
 tions made upon oneself do not detract from the sincerity of 
 the feelings experienced. 
 
 The anecdotal side of this question presented itself to psycholo- 
 gists when they sought to learn what was true in the Paradoxes 
 
THE CORRECTION 149 
 
 of Diderot. Diderot claimed that an actor can play properly- 
 only when he feels nothing of what he expresses; because how 
 could he be moved and at the same time regulate his steps upon 
 the stage, and watch the effect of his play upon the audience? 
 The reply has been made to this that although the emotional 
 capacity of actors varies according to the temperament of each 
 one of them, there is nothing paradoxical in admitting that they 
 are at the same time moved and master of themselves; the essen- 
 tial of artistic emotion is that it be under the direction of the 
 will and the surveillance of taste.^ 
 
 In the preceding description of the scheme of thought, we 
 have constantly taken for granted that the control is at work. 
 Let us recall that thought consists in an adaptation. It is neces- 
 sary that the means not only be found, but be judged capable 
 of attaining this end. Before pulling the trigger the marks- 
 man sees that his weapon is properly aimed. In the same way 
 the control intervenes to make sure that the means are efficacious; 
 those that are judged good are adopted; the others are rejected. 
 Without this attentive selection no adaptation can succeed. 
 
 What is most curious is that the effect of the control makes 
 itself felt, while for the most part the control itself is unconscious. 
 When we undertake a commercial affair we know what is possible 
 for us to attempt, what is possible to demand, and this feeling 
 is sufficient to stifle a host of unreasonable ideas, even before 
 they appear. We do not have to disperse them and sort out the 
 good grain, for usually the greater part of the bad grain does not 
 present itself. There is here a silent work of systematization 
 which is extremely useful. 
 
 Let us pass on to our defectives. At every step of our obser- 
 vations we have discovered their lack of this power of control. 
 A certain one, in our presence, yawns, or scratches himself in 
 the most comical manner; this is a lack of control through lack 
 of good manners. Another told to copy an "a" scribbles a form- 
 less mass at which he smiles in a satisfied manner; this is lack 
 of control through lack of attention, because these same imbe- 
 ciles, if one insists, can be made to see that their scribbling does 
 not resemble the model. But it is especially when we ask their 
 opinion upon some question which they do not know, that we 
 
 ^ See A. Binet, Le Paradoxe de Diderot, Annee Psychologique, vol. 
 iii, p. 279. 
 
150 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 discover their lack of control. This state of n'importequism 
 already pointed out is composed in the first place of a lack of 
 evolution and of differentiation in the thought, and in the next 
 place by an absence of criticism. We have already remarked 
 that to reply, "It is exactly eleven o'clock," when one cannot 
 tell time, to give the first color that comes into one's head when 
 asked to name a particular color, must mean that the sense of 
 demonstration is lacking, the sense of the absurd, the fear of 
 being wrong, in a word all of those states which tend to correct 
 and reduce and which constitute control. 
 
 But it is necessary to remark, that in order to bring out this 
 n'importequism clearly, it is necessary to exercise force upon 
 the intelligence of imbeciles. Left to themselves, they do not 
 say and they do not perform all the absurdities that we draw 
 from them; if they have committed very many blunders in their 
 conversations with us we are somewhat responsible, because 
 we obliged them to reply to questions beyond their reach. In 
 short if they are lacking in judgment they are equally lacking 
 in direction, in adaptation and the rest; if their functionings 
 are in a rudimentary state, there is at least some harmony in 
 all these rudiments. It would therefore be wrong to think of 
 comparing them with those degenerates, among whom impulsive 
 acts betray a lack of harmony, a loss of equilibrium. These 
 are mental conditions of a very different nature. 
 
 VI. Origin of the Scheme of Thought 
 
 The scheme of thought which we have just set forth has been 
 made definite by our study of defectives and by our need to 
 explain wherein their deficiency consists; but its origin dates 
 farther back. One of us had already this idea in mind when 
 he wrote some ten years ago, his "Experimental Study of the 
 Intelligence,"^ which we have often been obliged to cite; the 
 observations contained in that book have stimulated experimen- 
 tation in Germany upon the psychology of thought, which is 
 at the present moment being carried on with much activity, 
 and which passes by the general name of the Method of WurtzburgJ 
 
 * Schleicher Brothers, Paris, 1900. 
 
 ^ This name is used because the psychologists of the University of 
 Wurtzburg have been the second to employ this method. This is a curious 
 usage with which we are unacquainted. Or rather, it is the second 
 
ORIGIN OF THE SCHEME OF THOUGHT 151 
 
 It will also be noted that the expressions of direction of thought, 
 of correction, and other equivalents are currently employed to- 
 day by many authors, and our scheme itself, although it is per- 
 haps more definite and more complete than anything which has 
 been proposed, will seem to manj'- to lack originality. 
 
 It is important to point out in conclusion exactly in what 
 respects our scheme seems to us to be in advance of the former 
 theories of the mechanism of thought, and what characteristic 
 points it presents. 
 
 In the first place one might believe a double use was made of 
 the primordial faculties of mind, which have been described from 
 all eternity under the familiar names of memory, attention, 
 imagination, judgment. We have sometimes employed these 
 expressions in our descriptions, but we have not abused them, 
 and it would have been easy for us not to have used them at 
 all. Would it have been possible to reduce the scheme of thought 
 to a play of these faculties? At first thought this reduction 
 merits a trial, because it seems very seductive. 
 
 One might remark that all that we have described under the 
 term direction is only attention; our auto-correction is only 
 judgment; and as to the act of adaptation, which is the center 
 of the system, one could just as well reduce it to memory, which 
 conserves the states of consciousness, and to the imagination, 
 which raises them up at the proper moment. 
 
 But on reflection it seems to us that to reduce the scheme of 
 thought to these known faculties would be to take from the 
 scheme all its originality. On the one hand the essential point 
 of the new theory is considering thought as an action, the ac- 
 tion consisting in adapting itself; it is around this conception 
 that everything gravitates; furthermore, the principle of adapta- 
 tion is not contained in any one of our intellectual faculties; 
 there is in it an idea which surpasses them. On the other hand, 
 if the principal parts of the system, direction, correction, adjust- 
 ment, can be explained by a play of the attention, memory, imagina- 
 tion, judgment, it must be noted that any one of those faculties 
 taken alone would be ineffectual for the work that one would 
 
 example of which we have any record. The first is the following: the 
 study of errors in testimony which we inaugurated is currently designated 
 today by the name of the author who took it up after us, and bears the 
 name of the method of Stern. 
 
152 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 wish to assign to it. Take for instance auto-correction. Is 
 that judgment? Yes, without doubt; one must judge in order 
 to correct oneself, but correction supposes more than an intel- 
 lectual appreciation. It supposes in addition, an arrest, a sus- 
 pension of a defective motor tendency; to judgment one must 
 add will. Sometimes correction is made in full consciousness 
 after an effort of reflection; in this case attention must be added 
 to judgment and will. Nor is this all. The arrest may be made 
 without making an intellectual judgment, by the conflict of 
 an emotional state which serves as antagonist; one must then 
 add to the list of acting faculties, a new faculty, that of emotivity. 
 The list is already long, and we have taken into account neither 
 memory, which is necessary in order for us to possess the motives 
 for rendering a judgment, nor imagination which serves to pre- 
 sent them forcibly to the mind. 
 
 Let us take another example, the direction. Is that atten- 
 tion? Without doubt, and we do not deny it; but it will be easy 
 in analyzing this second case, to show all that this faculty implies; 
 an observation taken from life will prove it to us. An imbecile 
 Denise who is listening to us suddenly changes her direction; 
 while we talk she is attracted by a bird flying in the garden, 
 and she begins watching the bird and forgets us. We say that 
 the first direction has been abandoned, and that is sufficient 
 for our scheme. But what is the mechanism of this derailment? 
 Is it lack of attention? Is it lack of memory? It is extremely 
 difficult to know, because direction supposes, among other things, 
 memory and attention, and the difference between derailment 
 through lack of attention, and derailment through lack of memory 
 is extremely subtle. We would say lack of memory when the 
 directing idea has completely disappeared; lack of attention 
 when the idea, without completely disappearing, has lost its 
 interest and is disregarded. All these distinctions are of but little 
 importance. Here then is a case which shows admirably not 
 only that the greater part of our primordial faculties is involved 
 in each part of the scheme of thought, but moreover that it may 
 be a very delicate matter to establish the r61e of each one of 
 these faculties. 
 
 In short then, we may conclude that the theory of the intellec- 
 tual faculties and the theory of the scheme of thought belong 
 to two different planes. 
 
ORIGIN OF THE SCHEME OF THOUGHT 153 
 
 To make this distinction more clear, we borrow from biology 
 the following comparison; the primordial biological element is 
 the cell; in grouping themselves, cells form the tissues; tissues 
 in their turn form the organs. In the same way one might 
 say that the intellectual functions of memory, attention, judg- 
 ment, etc., correspond to the cells; combining themselves, they 
 form something analogous to a tissue. What corresponds to 
 the organ is our scheme of thought, because, like the organ, 
 this scheme has a function. 
 
 It is perhaps in this last word, function, that the chief originality 
 of our new scheme of thought resides; and if this word is under- 
 stood in its fullest sense, one sees new perspectives opening out. 
 One will understand that there is a certain amount of the obso- 
 lete in contemporaneous psychology, and that one must encourage 
 a different psychology, the one which is already called in America 
 functional psychology. 
 
 In our opinion it will henceforth seem superannuated to make 
 psychology a science of introspection, or to express it better, 
 of contemplation, which has for its object of study the states 
 of consciousness, and which has no other end but to describe all 
 the qualities of these states. In fact, up to this point, we have 
 seen in the faculties of memory, attention, judgment, imagina- 
 tion, only those faculties which spend themselves entirely in 
 states of consciousness and which serve either to conserve these 
 states or to reproduce them, or to amplify them, or to compare 
 them, or to decompose them. One never gets beyond them; 
 they are considered not as means but as ends. Consequently 
 it has been believed that in every act of thought, the emphasis 
 must be placed upon the states of consciousness, even upon the 
 imaginative representation, so that it has caused great surprise 
 to learn that there can be thoughts without images, without words, 
 and reduced to a feeling. Consequently again, it has been be- 
 lieved that the explanation of the mental operations could be 
 seen in the properties of images; the English School has wished 
 to explain the reason of all mental phenomena without exception 
 by the mechanism of the association of ideas, and recently a 
 well-known author sought to explain attention by a state of 
 mono-ideism. 
 
 To this conception of a structural psychology we oppose its 
 counterpart, that which gives action as the end of thought and 
 
154 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 which seeks the very essence of thought in a system of actions. 
 All the consequences of this new orientation, at least if it succeeds 
 in making itself accepted, will develop with time. There are 
 intimate consequences that will make themselves felt in the man- 
 ner of positing the most serious psychological problems, in par- 
 ticular the manner of understanding the attention, generaliza- 
 tion, and also the relation of the conscious to the unconscious, 
 and the reciprocal influence of the emotions and the thoughts, 
 and finally the relation of delirium to emotivity. We already 
 have here the principal points upon which it seems to us great 
 changes will take place. We note, as a logical example of the 
 revolution which we predict, a new method for measuring the 
 phenomena of consciousness; instead of measuring the intensity 
 of these phenomena, which has been the vain and foolish ambition 
 of the psycho-physicists, we shall measure the useful effects of 
 the acts of adaptation, and the value of the difficulties conquered 
 by them; there is here a measure which is not arithmetical, but 
 which permits a lineal seriation, a hierarchy of the acts and of 
 different individuals judged according to their powers. 
 
 Questions of detail aside, if we seek to take into account the 
 evolution of the whole, which we approve, we can assert that 
 psychology, having become a science of action, takes on an al- 
 together different attitude for pedagogy, for morals, and for 
 scientific philosophy. 
 
 For pedagogy it ceases to be the lonely exercise of hermits, 
 a delight of the sophists, an application of "Know thyself" which 
 has caused it to be said up to the present that this analytical 
 science has no educative value. In obliging us to come out of 
 our own inner consciousness, in order to understand our fellow- 
 man in the life of action, it takes on an aspect of social science. 
 In morals the consideration of ends permits it to receive inspira- 
 tion from whatever there is that is useful and solid in the doc- 
 trines of pragmatism in vogue. There again we encounter an 
 interesting point of contact with the contemporaneous tendencies 
 which are still vague, but very powerful. But it is especially 
 by the manner of positing the great philosophical problem that 
 the revolution will make itself felt, for while the psychologist 
 of contemplation tends to detach himself from the exterior world 
 and to seek only the differences between his states of conscious- 
 ness and his own body, which produces a gulf between the physi- 
 
ORIGIN OF THE SCHEME OF THOUGHT 155 
 
 cal and the moral world; the psychologist of action, who sees 
 that the physical and the moral concur in every act of adaptation, 
 will apply himself rather to demonstrate their union, and instead 
 of an antithesis, will tend to make a synthesis. 
 
 Alfred Binet and Th. Simon. 
 
\ 
 
■6^ t) ^«r6»c.c<*<^ 
 
 
 Ci-K«<^ 
 
 "'^ X--i4i^^ U-^^y^t- ^^ £U^^-i^-^<-t.' 
 
 yTu?u^^^^ 
 
 ^r\ 
 
PART II 
 
 The Language of the Feeble-Minded 
 
I. A NEW PSYCHOGENETIC METHOD 
 
 We desire to draw the attention of our readers to a study which* 
 in our opinion, constitutes a new psychological method ; this method 
 consists in analysing the manifestations of intellectual phenomena 
 among certam individuals designated by the names idiot, imbe- 
 cile, and moron. Imbeciles perhaps form the most instructive 
 group of all these defectives and it is of these only that we shall 
 speak in our short article. We believe the method which we 
 present is new and we hope that we shall be able to demonstrate 
 its novelty. Our aflirmation may be doubted by those who know 
 of the enormous literature which exists upon all defectives; but 
 the clinicians who have devoted themselves to these patients and 
 who have even made for them a vague pedagogy adorned with 
 the pompous title of the medico-pedagogical method have never, 
 so to speak, examined them from the point of view of the prob- 
 lems which their mental state raises in regard to modern psy- 
 chology. In fact the chapter upon "Backwards" is the most 
 backward of all psychiatry.^ 
 
 The method which we are going to describe is a psychogenetic 
 method; let us characterize it first by indicating what branches of 
 study it resembles and from what other branches it is differen- 
 tiated. 
 
 For the past thirty years the field of psychology has been so 
 furrowed in every direction that it has become extremely diflScult 
 to present a general view of the investigations which is coherent. 
 There exists at the present time an objective psychology which is 
 often opposed to a subjective psychology, terms vague and almost 
 indefinable. In the same way experimental psychology has been 
 opposed to pathological psychology, the authors failing to recog- 
 nize by this distinction that the observation of these patients is 
 
 ' We hope that this appreciation will not be considered an unjust criti- 
 cism upon certain good works that have appeared upon the psychology 
 of imbeciles. The work of Dr. SoUier is well known, and for the epoch in 
 which he wrote, is excellent. But psychological analysis has progressed 
 greatly since that time and we are under the necessity of studying very 
 many questions of which no one had then dreamed. 
 
 159 
 
160 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 compatible with experimentations quite as complicated as for 
 normal subjects and laboratory students. In this pathological 
 branch are grouped together psychiatry and hypnotism although, 
 both in regard to their value and their processes, they are entirely 
 different. As for experimental psychology it is almost universally 
 confounded with psycho-physics of which it is nevertheless only 
 a very insignificant part; and this confusion is all the more regret- 
 table because it permits those who condemn the barrenness of the 
 psycho-physical to anathematize at the same time the whole psy- 
 chology of experimentation which is supremely unjust. And 
 moreover there is again physiological psychology whose domain 
 is so badly defined that it is confused with normal psychology, 
 with psycho-physics, and even with pathological psychology. 
 This is chaos; and if the experts cannot always find themselves 
 how can we suppose that the uninitiated can arrive at a clear idea 
 of the whole? 
 
 We are not attempting here to put an end to this chaos; that 
 would take too long. In order to indicate the ground we intend 
 to cover, it will suffice to divide all psychology into three fields 
 according to the nature of the phenomena involved, and not ac- 
 cording to the processes of investigation which are common to the 
 three fields. The first group represents the phenomena which 
 have attained their full development, a static condition; this is 
 the study of the adult normal. The second group represents the 
 phenomena which are in a stage of total or partial dissolution, or 
 of derangement, in a word, which correspond in the main to the 
 somewhat vague concept of pathological phenomena. The third 
 group, the only one with which this article is concerned, repre- 
 sents the phenomena in a stage of evolution; into this group 
 enters first of all and above all the study of the child who repre- 
 sents the most typical form of evolution; then, with various 
 differences, we can compare the child with the individual belong- 
 ing to a lower civilization who has long been called by the naive 
 word savage; then we can compare him with the animal, and lastly 
 with the defective. 
 
 To be brief, we shall retain of this enumeration only the two 
 extreme terms, the child and the defective. It has long been said 
 that the defective is comparable to a child arrested in his develop- 
 ment. We have in our asylums imbeciles of forty who are at the 
 intellectual level of a normal child of five years. But it must be 
 
NEW PSYCHOGENETIC METHOD 161 
 
 well understood that this resemblance is only roughly true. An 
 imbecile of forty does not exactly resemble a normal child of five 
 years; following the happy comparison of Kraepelin, he resembles 
 him somewhat as would a caricature; he resembles him as much 
 as an invalid can resemble a healthy person, as much as an awk- 
 ward and uncouth being can resemble one who is all charm and 
 grace. For the moment we shall not insist upon all the differ- 
 ences which obviously are numerous and which are moreover 
 imperfectly known; of these differences the following interests us 
 more than the others because it justifies the psychogenetic method 
 for defectives. The normal child of five years is continually 
 developing; he does not remain, so to speak, a single instant at 
 the same intellectual level; he is following an ascending curve. 
 On the contrary, the adult imbecile of forty has terminated his 
 development; he will be tomorrow or two years hence the same 
 that he is today, that he was yesterday, that he was two years 
 ago, or perhaps even that he was ten years ago. He does not 
 follow an ascending curve; he treads a level platform, and conse- 
 quently one can discern the qualities and resources of his intellec- 
 tual level, better than as though it were the question of a child; 
 one can learn, for instance, all the acquisitions which his intel- 
 lectual level can command; one can learn if his degree of intelli- 
 gence renders him capable of learning to read, to count, to acquire 
 this or that practical knowledge; on the contrary, one remains 
 ignorant of these things for a child of five, because such child has 
 not yet had time to learn them, and by the time he has learned 
 them he is no longer five years old but has mounted to a higher 
 intellectual level. Here then, as we take it, is the great advantage 
 of the psychogenetic method applied to imbeciles; it permits us to 
 know by an experiment as prolonged as we desire to make it, all the 
 resources of an intelligence, all its capacities, all its potentialities. 
 
II. APHASIA AND THE PSYCHOLOGY OF LANGUAGE 
 
 Let us leave generalities, and demonstrate by a precise example 
 what we have just advanced. Psychology in its entirety could be 
 viewed by this method but we cite only one particular phase, 
 that of the development of language. 
 
 The study of language will be very useful for our demonstra- 
 tion because it will furnish us with the opportunity of comparing 
 the results obtained by three different methods, first, the patho- 
 logical method, brilliant and well known, which has given us the 
 aphasias; second, the psychogenetic method, known but little 
 used, which consists in studying the child; and, finally, third, 
 another psychogenetic method almost unknown and never prac- 
 ticed which consists in studying the imbecile. We shall also by 
 a precise comparison observe the advantages of these different 
 methods as well as their disadvantages. It must be well under- 
 stood that we do not in any way attempt to establish a preemi- 
 nence of one of these methods over the others. This would be 
 neither correct nor kind. All the methods are useful; we are not 
 in favor of exclusion but of synthesis; it is what we have always 
 desired and always counseled. 
 
 Let us first ask, what have we learned from the imposing array 
 of the manifold works on aphasia that is of general application to 
 the problem of the mechanism of language? Let us pass over the 
 infinite number of details, certain ones of which have been very 
 suggestive, and let us restrict ourselves to a general view. 
 
 The study of aphasia has shown us in particular that what we 
 call language does not represent a faculty unique, indivisible, 
 moulded in a single piece, but is composed of a certain number of 
 operations which are independent of each other, and that each 
 may be destroyed or conserved to the exclusion of the others. 
 This is the most important information that comes out clearly 
 from all the observations which have been made upon aphasic 
 cases as well as from all the diverse and often artificial theories 
 which have been devised to express the difficulties of language. 
 We recall merely that according to the simplest and most schematic 
 
 162 
 
PSYCHOLOGY OF LANGUAGE 163 
 
 of these theories, language results from the four following opera- 
 tions: first, understanding; second, speaking; third, reading; fourth, 
 writing, and that each of these operations may be suppressed 
 separately by a cerebral accident. It has been disputed that this 
 independence is equally complete for all but this matter of degree 
 is of little import; what has been definitely proved is that there 
 is some independence. Let us remark however that this func- 
 tional independence can be realized only by an individual who is 
 already in possession of the different mechanisms of language. 
 It is the perfected mechanism which can act alone without the 
 aid of the whole; it is necessary, for instance, that an individual 
 should have previously heard language in order to continue speak- 
 ing even when he has ceased to understand what he hears (word 
 deafness). 2 The study of aphasia therefore, with many reserva- 
 tions which we pass over, shows the absence of relation between 
 the established functions. It does not show what relations are 
 produced between the functions which are on the way to being 
 established. There is here a place for another entirely different 
 study. Every one knows or supposes that if the faculty of speech 
 becomes independent of the faculty of understanding it is not so 
 in the beginning at the time of its formation, and that the child 
 born deaf remains necessarily a mute. How could he pronounce 
 words that he had never heard or had not been taught by another 
 means? Therefore at the moment of this elaboration of the func- 
 tions, numerous relations exist between the budding functions and 
 the study of this part of the phenomena may be termed the psycho- 
 genesis of language. Aphasia does not comprise a psychogenesis, 
 this must not be forgotten. 
 
 The psychogenesis of language can be investigated by different 
 methods, by means of studies on children, or on primitive peoples. 
 We are going to show how the study of imbeciles, who up to a 
 certain point constitute permanent children, can be turned to 
 account. 
 
 ^ We omit in the text an aflSrmation which might be criticised because, 
 according to Dejerine and other authors, spontaneous speech is profoundly 
 altered in word deafness; the patient having lost verbal auditory percep- 
 tion no longer understands his own speech and continually uses one word 
 for another and misforms words. Other authors, as Marie and his school, 
 do not, however, accept this as an explanation of the confusion observed. 
 
III. AN OBSERVATION OF AN IMBECILE. SCIENTIFIC 
 DETERMINATION OF HER LEVEL 
 
 As this article is only a short demonstration we shall limit our- 
 selves to observing one subject in particular; this subject which 
 we take from among many others is an imbecile of the lowest 
 grade. According to the definition which we have proposed, we 
 must place in the category of idiots all defectives who are incap- 
 able of communicating with their fellows by speech. Our patient 
 is not properly speaking an idiot; she is located upon the threshold 
 between idiocy and imbecility because she is able to make herself 
 understood by speech although to a very limited degree. By 
 choosing this patient we are permitted to study the psychogenesis 
 of language, the formation of the first word, the psychological 
 conditions which are essential for the beginning of speech, and this 
 is precisely the end that we have in view. 
 
 Our patient Denise is a woman of twenty-five years, who belongs 
 to a family of petits ouvriers. We suppress all purely medical 
 details which would have no interest for our psychological analysis. 
 Listen first to what the mother of Denise tells us regarding her 
 poor child. There was no possibility of having illusions upon 
 the mental state of the young girl. She was subjected to a 
 medico-pedagogical treatment for eight years. What has she 
 learned? Absolutely nothing her mother says; and of late she 
 has even been deteriorating. (We give this opinion without 
 taking any responsibility to ourselves.) The parents kept her 
 for a long time at home. They considered her a child without 
 intelligence but harmless. During her first years she took the 
 breast normally and presented nothing exceptional. But she did 
 not play or jump the rope as ordinary children do, although it 
 amused her very much to watch the others play. The mother 
 says with an excessive optimism that she understands every- 
 thing; in reality she continually needs the help of those about her 
 to perform the simplest acts. Awkward to the point of being 
 unable to make a bow, she can nearly dress herself but must be 
 watched to see that she does not put her clothes on wrong side 
 
 164 
 
OBSERVATION OF AN IMBECILE 165 
 
 out. She does not know how to comb her hair or wash her face; 
 to do up her hair she turns it to one side and puts pins in it; 
 she washes her hands mechanically without noticing the result. 
 She eats alone decently enough, and can help herself to drink; 
 her meat and bread must be cut; she is rather difficult to please 
 in regard to her food, and would like to drink wine or cognac. 
 It is only recently that she learned to open a door. She even 
 learned to thread a No. 8 needle. She cannot be taught to do 
 anything useful; in sewing she remains hours making the same 
 stitch and the stitch once made she pulls it out. Or else she busies 
 herself cutting rags or paper. If she sweeps she stops because 
 she is without sequence in her ideas and leaves the dirt in the 
 middle of the room. She cannot be made useful in preparing 
 vegetables. She shells peas by biting them. She cannot, un- 
 aided, do any useful work; someone must always be near to watch 
 her. One cannot even tell her to gather the flowers; she will 
 pluck anything. At such a level the imbecile is therefore practi- 
 cally useless. 
 
 Her disposition is sweet although a little restless; she is not 
 contented anywhere; if she is in the house she always wishes to 
 go outside. What pleases her most is music, singing, and espe- 
 cially moving pictures. We are assured that she has a true voice 
 in singing. She is affectionate, she loves everyone, but is spiteful, 
 remembers an affront and does not wish to see the person again 
 who offered it. She is timid, is afraid of fire and carriages. 
 She is at times subject to violent fits of temper during which she 
 beats her head with her fist or strikes it against the wall. She 
 has even a little jealousy. Against whom? Against her mother's 
 cat ! This last trait completes the portrait of the poor innocent. 
 
 It remains to be seen for what reason she was placed in the 
 asylum. The parents noticed that of late she had had convul- 
 sions with blood in her mouth, jerking of the limbs and eyes turned 
 back. Following these attacks she slept and snored loudly. At 
 other times she simply lost consciousness after which she asked 
 to urinate; in coming to herself her eyes were fixed and saliva was 
 on her lips; a bonbon was put into her mouth. The parents 
 were alarmed at these attacks which certainly had the charac- 
 teristics of coma; they reproached themselves, the poor souls, for 
 having kept their child at home. "You see," the mother said 
 to the father, "it's all your fault; she ought to have been cared 
 
166 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 for at the hospital." As a result of all these fears they decided 
 to place their child in the asylum. Let us add that these attacks 
 are very infrequent with her. During the several months that 
 we have been studying her they have only manifested them- 
 selves once. 
 
 Let us examine the patient. Short in stature (4 ft. 8 in.) 
 somewhat stout, heavy, the waist thick; there is nothing abnormal 
 about her physical appearance. The head is well formed but small 
 like that of a child of ten years. The features are regular and 
 well cut; there are no wrinkles; the face is fat, the cheeks pendant; 
 there is in the whole body a general tendency to overweight. 
 The subject is twenty-five but appears thirty. The countenance 
 is wide awake and mobile; small black eyes, brilliant and lively, 
 expression almost mischievous. The moment she enters our oflfice 
 we hold out our hand; she shakes it and begins to laugh showing 
 her white teeth. It is not simply a laugh but a foolish uncon- 
 trolled laugh. We studied her during many sittings, because she 
 was at our disposition whenever we wished, without interruption. 
 At the least noise, the slightest gesture, at anything or nothing 
 she bursts into loud laughter. She is a real child. During our 
 many interviews, at every outside noise such as the ringing of a 
 bell, the opening of a door, etc., she suddenly placed both hands 
 on her abdomen. This was a play rather than a tic. 
 
 This is not the only proof of her childishness; she is affected with 
 echolalia and mimicry accompanied by all kinds of comical actions. 
 If one coughs she coughs; if one blows his nose, she blows hers; if 
 one laughs, she laughs. She repeats the last word of a sentence 
 which is said or else says yes in acquiescence, even when one is 
 paying no attention to her. At the same time she imitates what- 
 ever one does. If one writes, she takes on a mischievous air and 
 pretends to write with her finger on the table; if one scratches 
 himself she scratches herself; if one crosses his arms she does the 
 same; if one twirls his moustache she imitates the action. The 
 imitation by gesture or voice is done quickly, accompanied with a 
 laugh and mocking air but the imitation does not continue long. 
 Very quickly her attention fails; Denise thinks of other things, 
 looks about her, then after a time comes back to us and if we 
 continue to write she resumes her imitative gestures. When she 
 is not thinking of us her face suddenly becomes serious and 
 nothing is more comical than the rapidity with which this poor 
 
OBSERVATION OP AN IMBECILE 167 
 
 creature passes from seriousness to laughter. This tendency to 
 laughter, to echolalia and mimicry manifests itself most strikingly 
 when she is in a familiar environment. It is all done with the 
 mischievous air of a school boy who makes fun of his master. 
 
 Before a witness whom she does not know Denise is intimidated, 
 remains shy, and shows no evidence of echolalia or mimicry. It 
 is therefore something different from reflex echolalia, since it is 
 under the influence of psychic causes and is exercised only under 
 certain easily determined conditions. Neither is it a voluntary 
 echolalia, the art of imitation as practised by a comedian who 
 gives himself to this effort as others give themselves to any 
 sort of work. It is an intermediate form which is at the same 
 time partly reflex and partly voluntary and which very clearly 
 expresses the childish character of Denise. 
 
 Furthermore all her gestures reveal her mental level. Sitting 
 by our side she picks her nose or scratches her head without 
 sufficient reserve; from time to time she yawns noisily or sighs; 
 at times she says "Mama" in a plaintive tone or carries her 
 hand to her face; she has at such times a flushing of the face and 
 she breathes heavily like someone who is very warm. Let us 
 also add that she is very gentle, not at all stubborn and one can 
 do with her whatever he will. This group of facts constitutes an 
 attitude that is very peculiar, childish, gay, mocking and altogether 
 feeble-minded. 
 
 The facts here recorded show us that Denise has the character 
 of a child; but she is not only backward as to character but also 
 backward in intelligence; one can very well suspect this from all 
 that we have said of her. Thus socially she is useless since she 
 has neither enough application nor enough discernment to per- 
 form the most humble task. One could not even employ her to 
 sweep because even for that she would need watching. But all 
 these little facts give only one impression. One must go farther 
 and fix the position of this imbecile in the scale of intelligence. 
 
 Without wishing to treat fundamentally a question which here 
 presents itself only incidentally, let us recall the grades between 
 which one might hesitate in classifying our imbecile; these grades 
 are first, idiocy of the highest degree; second, imbecility of the 
 lowest degree; third, imbecility of the intermediate degree. 
 
 The table which we here give indicates briefly the mental 
 capacities of these three degrees. 
 
168 
 
 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 High Grade Idiot. 
 
 Lowest Grade Imbecile. 
 
 Middle Grade Imbecile. 
 
 High Grade Imbecile. 
 
 Capable of understanding a gesture and of 
 executing simple orders given by gesture, 
 like coming, seating themselves, getting 
 up; capable of imitating a gesture or an 
 attitude when ordered, for instance, clap- 
 ping the hands, dancing, crying, etc. 
 
 Capable of understanding and executing sim- 
 ple orders given verbally without gesture, 
 for instance, "Get up! Where is your eye? 
 Go bring me the bouquet which is on the 
 table! Where is the ink-well? Show me 
 a pencil! Where is the little girl in this 
 picture?" 
 
 (Capable of naming common objects when 
 pointed out, of comparing two lines or two 
 weights; and of copying a square. 
 
 Capable of repeating three figures; of per- 
 forming the three errands; of naming ex- 
 actly certain pieces of money; naming the 
 colors; counting 10 pins; knowing the 
 names of the days of the week and the 
 months of the year, and the number of 
 fingers. 
 
 Denise can pass all the tests of the high grade idiot; they are 
 of course very easy and with the exception of the last do not sur- 
 pass the intelligence of a dog.^ 
 
 She passes the tests of low grade imbecility very well. Upon 
 verbal command she rises, seats herself, dances, cries out. She 
 points out objects named to her. She also designates in a pic- 
 ture the object she is asked to find, a child, a window, a little cat, 
 etc. by immediatelj'- putting her finger on it saying, "Aya!" with 
 a childish expression of satisfaction. Moreover she is so sug- 
 gestible that if one tells her to find an object which does not exist 
 in the picture she points to anything. One might even believe 
 that she always went at random, but an attentive study of her 
 gestures shows that she understands very well what is named to 
 her. 
 
 * We must use a certain reserve in comparisons which one is tempted 
 to draw between a human being and an animal in respect to their intelli- 
 gence. The difference of the organs, larynx and anterior members, pre- 
 vent an animal from performing acts of speech and of imitation without 
 the level of his intelligence being necessarily the cause. 
 
OBSERVATION OF AN IMBECILE 169 
 
 Denise fails in the tests for middle grade imbecility. She can 
 scarcely name one of the objects presented to her. To the ques- 
 tion, "What is this?" she replies, "Yes" and bursts into laughter. 
 She cannot copy a square, or compare two lines or two weights. 
 Wlien one gives her the two weights to compare and asks her which 
 is the heavier she puts a finger upon each and replies, "That," 
 with great satisfaction. She designates a line at random with 
 complete inattention and from time to time she gives a great sigh 
 as though complaining of the over strain demanded of her intelli- 
 gence. She is therefore an imbecile of the lowest grade; her 
 intellectual inferiority manifests itself in the tests that do not 
 require speech, an important point. 
 
 Another example of her intellectual inferiority, she cannot 
 execute three orders at a time. She does one; if we ask her to 
 get a flower which is on the table near at hand she quickly exe- 
 cutes this simple order; but if we add two other orders, for instance, 
 to strike three times on the door and change the position of a 
 chair, she cannot execute successively these three orders; she can 
 recall but one of them, most often the last, and after having exe- 
 cuted that she returns completely satisfied and takes her seat. 
 
 All this permits us to conclude that Denise is a low grade 
 imbecile. It can be seen that this conclusion is not simply a 
 formula, it implies and sums up a series of numerous tests and 
 of verifications. 
 
IV. ANALYSIS OF THE STATE OF LANGUAGE OF THIS 
 
 IMBECILE 
 
 The intellectual level of Denise is so low as to have some influ- 
 ence upon the development of her language. When one en- 
 counters a subject so lacking in intelligence, one expects that he 
 will speak very imperfectly. We shall study successively in Denise 
 the three following points : 
 
 1. The vocabulary in spontaneous speech. 
 
 2. Articulation. 
 
 3. Comprehension of spoken words. 
 
 1. Vocabulary. To say that Denise does not speak would be 
 an exaggeration; it is not complete mutism; she pronounces merely 
 a few short, simple words which are almost all substantives, such 
 as yes, no, papa, mama, pipi, aya, (for voild) good-day, and good- 
 bye. The mother, indulgent and blind like all mothers, assures 
 us that the vocabulary of Denise is composed of some forty words 
 although she admits that she could never recognize nor pronounce 
 the names of her brother or her sister. This evaluation of forty 
 words seems to us exaggerated. There is still another word which 
 Denise loves and which she often pronounces, it is zut. Several 
 of these words really serve her the purpose of language; we mean 
 by that she never uses them at random to amuse herself by the 
 sound or as an exercise of the larynx, as children often do, or by 
 false application to objects. Every time she uses them she gives 
 them their exact meaning. Thus it has often happened that 
 feeling a need she turned to us, no longer laughing, took on a 
 most serious air and said, "Pipi." At another time seeing her 
 completely occupied during our questioning in turning and look- 
 ing at a cheap ring which she had on her finger we asked her, 
 "Who gave you that ring?" She replied immediately and with- 
 out the slightest hesitation, "Mama." This is indeed language. 
 It has been seen that it is reduced to a very small number of 
 common and proper nouns. Let us add that she rarely uses even 
 the words that she knows, so that she seems mute. She might 
 therefore be compared to a child of one or two years who has 
 
 170 
 
LANGUAGE OF AN IMBECILE 171 
 
 commenced to speak but whose vocabulary is still very restricted. 
 But there is a difference. The normal child is constantly making 
 an effort to increase his little vocabulary; while still very young 
 he subjects his larynx to exercises to produce suppleness and 
 emits all sorts of varied sounds. This babble is foreign to Denise. 
 She does not try to increase her verbal acquisition, an important 
 difference such as is always found when one attempts to compare 
 the defective with a normal child. 
 
 In order not to forget it one might express this difference in 
 the following terms. In the psychology of an individual there 
 are two orders of phenomena, those which are acquired, repre- 
 senting the results of a former development, and those which 
 require the realization of an effort, an expenditure which must 
 be made at the very moment; we refer the first phenomena to the 
 psychology of conservation because they represent a structure 
 already formed; the second group of phenomena should be referred 
 rather to the psychology of acquisition. Thus to name an object 
 whose name is already known is the psychology of conservation; 
 to learn and retain the name of a known object belongs to the 
 psychology of acquisition. One can already see that these two 
 psychological processes are subject to different laws; among de- 
 ments the conservation is always superior to the acquisition; the 
 dement knows things which at that actual hour he would be 
 unable to learn if he did not already know them; he constantly 
 shows a contrast between his previous acquisitions and his actual 
 capacities. We recall a general paralytic very much reduced who 
 allowed himself to fall several times from the chair where he sat, 
 by inadvertently leaning too much to one side while ravelling 
 off the edge of a bandage which he had about his hand. Yet this 
 same paralytic was still capable of reading. Among defectives 
 the psychology of acquisition and the psychology of conservation 
 are equal; the defectives have neither gone back nor progressed; 
 they are today what they were yesterday; and they can acquire 
 knowledge on a par with that which they already possess. Lastly, 
 among normal children the formula changes once more. The 
 function is superior to the organ; the power of acquisition sur- 
 passes that of conservation because children progress unceasingly, 
 they become constantly better, they are superior today to what 
 they were yesterday; the future belongs to them. 
 
 2. Articulation. Another point of resemblance between Denise 
 
172 
 
 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 and a young child is that she has difficulties of speech which very 
 much resemble the natural dyslalia of a little child. Little chil- 
 dren pass normally through a period of imitation when they do their 
 best to reproduce the sounds they have heard or that they them- 
 selves have invented in pronouncing at random. Their efforts at 
 reproduction are complicated by awkwardness or errors; often a 
 child is incapable of pronouncing certain consonants for months 
 and even for years; he either suppresses them or replaces them 
 by others; some authors call this difficulty of articulation lisping 
 while others prefer to designate it by the name of natural dyslalia. 
 It is essential to come to an understanding about the nature of 
 these difficulties of speech. They must not be confounded with 
 mechanical dyslalia which results from a malformation of the 
 organs of articulation, nor with the dyslalia accompanying a 
 nervous temperament; to distinguish these latter is important 
 and the error which one would commit in confounding them 
 would be as great as if one confounded the awkwardness of a 
 gesture with paralysis, the contraction or the convulsion of a 
 member. 
 
 We ask Denise to repeat the short words or letters or figures 
 which we pronounce before her; she understands what we wish 
 and lends herself as best she can to the attempt; one can almost 
 recognize the word she pronounces but it is much distorted. 
 
 Here are some examples. 
 
 WORDS PRONOUNCED 
 
 WORDS REPEATED 
 
 WORDS PRONOUNCED 
 
 WORDS REPEATED 
 
 BY VS 
 
 BY DENISE 
 
 BY US 
 
 BY DENISE 
 
 pa 
 
 ba 
 
 gateau 
 
 toto 
 
 papa 
 
 papa 
 
 monsieur 
 
 tesui (?) 
 
 bobo 
 
 bopo 
 
 madame 
 
 dada 
 
 pif 
 
 pitui 
 
 caca 
 
 pipi 
 
 ga 
 
 ba 
 
 beb6 
 
 b6b6 
 
 These imitations are rendered difficult by the bursts of laughter 
 and also by that very particular mental state which we call 
 n'importequisme (no-matter-what-ism) which consists in being 
 satisfied with the first approximation that comes to mind. We 
 cannot guarantee that the words which we attribute to Denise 
 have been articulated by her in exactly the manner that we have 
 written them; the pronunciation is so defective that sometimes 
 
LANGUAGE OF AN IMBECILE 
 
 173 
 
 one does not know exactly what one hears, 
 same for the letters of the alphabet: 
 
 We have done the 
 
 WHAT WE 
 SAID 
 
 WHAT WAS 
 REPEATED 
 
 SAID 
 
 REPEATED 
 
 SAID 
 
 REPEATED 
 
 SAID 
 
 REPEATED 
 
 a 
 
 a 
 
 d 
 
 d 
 
 1 
 
 e 
 
 S 
 
 6 
 
 e 
 
 e 
 
 f 
 
 e 
 
 m 
 
 e 
 
 t 
 
 d 
 
 1 
 
 1, u, Ul 
 
 g 
 
 M 
 
 n 
 
 6 
 
 u 
 
 vu 
 
 o 
 
 o? 
 
 h 
 
 a 
 
 o 
 
 veu 
 
 V 
 
 i6 
 
 u 
 
 u 
 
 i 
 
 rrr 
 
 P 
 
 d 
 
 w 
 
 d6d6w6 
 
 b 
 
 g6 
 
 J 
 
 J 
 
 q 
 
 vu 
 
 y 
 
 iducce 
 
 c 
 
 ge 
 
 k 
 
 a.6 
 
 r 
 
 r 
 
 z 
 
 4d 
 
 Conformable to what we have observed with children the vowels 
 are better pronounced than the consonants. Nearly all the vowels 
 are well pronounced as are also several consonants, especially the 
 d and the g. But we have not thought it worth while to make a 
 careful study of this difficulty of speech in order to find what 
 part belongs to the organs of speech, to defective audition, or 
 especially to the mental state of the subject. This extremely 
 difficult study, very much more difficult than instructive, would 
 take us too far from our program. The essential point is that 
 the dyslalia of Denise is not the direct and only cause which 
 prevents her from speaking. She might be able to talk even 
 while articulating badly; she does not seem to realize that she 
 misforms the sounds which she is asked to repeat and moreover, 
 we are persuaded that she has not the mental state of those 
 stammerers who remain silent because they are afraid to show 
 their difficulties of speech. 
 
 M. Marius Dupont, professor at the National Institute for 
 deaf-mutes at Paris, communicated to us recently the very 
 curious observation* of a little blind child of five years, who pro- 
 nounces only vowels; when he wishes to say, "Merci, maman 
 cherie," which is his favorite sentence, he pronounces the follow- 
 ing series of sounds: e, i, a, a, e, i, which his nurse understands 
 very well. Here is indeed a typical case of alalia. It seems to 
 us important to remark that Denise has by no means so deep- 
 seated a trouble of pronunciation and, consequently, if she limits 
 her language to pronouncing only eight or ten words the cause of 
 
 ^ This observation appeared in the Bulletin de la Societe de l' enfant, 
 1907. 
 
174 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 her lack of development of speech must belong to another order 
 than that of difficulty of articulation. 
 
 Verbal perception. As an interesting contrast this subject under- 
 stands speech. She is almost a mute but she does not have word 
 deafness and her comprehension of speech is sufficient to lend 
 itself to different complicated tests. Here in fact are orders 
 given her which she executed without the accompaniment of any 
 gesture which would enlighten her upon the sense of the words: 
 
 Clap your hands! She claps her hands. 
 
 Dance! She makes contortions with her arms. 
 
 R7in! She runs a little in the room. 
 
 Sing! She does not sing, probably does not dare before us, but after 
 hesitation yawns noisily. We suppose that for her this amounts to the 
 same thing. 
 
 Go and open the door! She goes to the door and taps it with her hand. 
 
 Go and get me a hook from the table! She executes the order. 
 
 Read! She makes the gesture of holding a book under her eyes. 
 
 Where is your eye, your nose, your ear, your hand? Designates exactly 
 each time. 
 
 Where is my watch? Indicates my watch which is on the table. 
 
 Where is the floor? Raises her arm and indicates the ceiling. 
 
 The key of the lock? Says "There" and points to the hole in the lock. 
 
 The pins? Points to the pins that are on the table. 
 
 The basin? Points to a basin that is on a nearby table. 
 
 The placard? Points at random to the wall. 
 
 The table cover? Points to the cloth on the table. 
 
 The penholder? First points in the air then designates the cloth on the 
 table. 
 
 The eye glass? Points in the air and raises herself comically on her feet. 
 
 The gas jet? Points to the gas jet in the room. 
 
 Where is your left hand? Points to her abdomen. 
 
 All these indicative gestures are executed with greatest earnest- 
 ness, her joy is excessive, her laugh bursts out amid the most 
 comical movements. Denise often pronounces the word "aya!" 
 in pointing to an object, which doubtless signifies voild (here). 
 
 Other quite complicated sentences show the extent of her power 
 of comprehension. 
 
 Q. Come here. 
 
 A. (She comes with her chair). 
 
 Q. Do you see the music box which is on the table? 
 
 A. Yes. 
 
 Q. You will be good enough to take it to the table at the side. 
 
 A. L& (She does the action). 
 
 Q. Will you go and get it and put it in the pocket of M. S. ? 
 
LANGUAGE OF AN IMBECILE 175 
 
 (She brings it from the table.) 
 
 Q. Will you be so obliging as to sit down? 
 
 She obeys. 
 
 Q. Will you put that object in the pocket of M. S. ? 
 
 She places it on the table. 
 
 Q. Will you give us a little air by opening the door behind me? 
 
 She takes the music box. 
 
 Q. The order is repeated. 
 
 She goes towards the door. 
 
 Several repetitions of the order. She wanders about the room. 
 
 Q. Will you take a pin and put it on a chair? 
 
 She wanders about the room. 
 
 Repetition of the order. 
 
 A. Pipi. 
 
 Q. Pull your ear. 
 
 She does it. 
 
 Q. Give yourself a box on the cheek. 
 
 Her two fists held tight she strikes her extended cheeks. 
 
 Q. Pinch your nose. 
 
 A. There! (She puts her index finger on her nose.) 
 
 Q. Scratch your hand. 
 
 She claps her hands together. 
 
 Q. Throw your handkerchief in the air. 
 
 She obeys. 
 
 To other questions she can answer yes or no always nodding 
 her head; her repHes are often given with a discernment which 
 proves she has understood. Thus she will say, "yes," if one asks, 
 "Are you a good girl?" "Do you wish a bonbon?" On the 
 contrary she will not fail to reply, "No," if asked "Do you wish 
 to go to bed?" 
 
 All these examples show that her verbal comprehension is real 
 although limited and changeable. We have been able to give a 
 quite complicated sentence, "Throw your handkerchief in the air," 
 which was understood. Others were not. Like a child Denise 
 catches one word and guesses at the rest; but at times she catches 
 nothing, so that one cannot foresee even when one knows her well 
 whether or not she will understand a given sentence because her 
 comprehension is very uncertain. 
 
 Animal sensitivity to verbal perception. It seems to us that in 
 a certain measure Denise understands like an animal and, more- 
 over, that the acuteness of her verbal perception is very great, 
 much greater than one would have supposed. In the first place 
 she is extremely sensitive to the intonation of the sentences pro- 
 nounced. When asking her if she is good we can by the inflec- 
 
176 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 tion of our tones obtain from her at will either the answer yes or 
 the answer no. We do not know exactly in what the difference 
 consists of the two intonations which we employ with this definite 
 end in view; we can only say that one of them which terminates 
 in a high note tends to suggest an affirmation, while the other, 
 which ends in a lower note and which is like a disapprobation, 
 tends to suggest a negation. Is it not singular that this defective 
 grasps so slight a shade of meaning when she has so little intelli- 
 gence that she cannot even shell peas but tears them open with 
 her teeth? It is because we have here to deal with that part of 
 the comprehension of language which is not only human but ani- 
 mal. Bear in mind that a dog is also very sensitive to the varied 
 intonations of the voice of his master; he knows very well if he is 
 flattered, if one is satisfied with him, if one is sad, if one repri- 
 mands him, if one is angry, and since he does not understand 
 grammatical construction, it is clearly the intonation which guides 
 him. Lubbock has shown that because the dog is an excellent 
 observer it is possible to present him before the public as being 
 able to read and to execute orders written in advance upon a 
 placard. Very curious experiments have been made recently in 
 Germany upon a learned horse that was exhibited in public; this 
 horse divined from the slightest movement of the head and eyes 
 of his master what he was to do, how many blows of his hoof he 
 was to give, or rather, knocking with his hoof a series of blows, he 
 knew when he must stop, etc. Curious the master did not know 
 how his own thought could be divined by this beast! One can 
 easily collect among animals a great number of examples of 
 feats of intelligence which require a very fine perception and a 
 great talent of observation. It is really curious that this fineness 
 of perception, altogether animal, should be found among defectives. 
 Let us hasten to add that the normal individual possesses it also; 
 but he possesses it from birth like the animals ; it is a gift which 
 he has not developed. 
 
 Denise is also very skillful in distinguishing in a sentence the 
 affirmation or the negation, even though she is incapable of under- 
 standing the sentence. Thus, the sentence, "Isn't it true that there 
 are artillerymen in the artillery f" provokes an acquiescence; while 
 the sentence, '^ Isn't it true that there are no artillerymen in the 
 artillery" f provokes a hvely negation with her head. Denise has 
 therefore perceived in the midst of all these incomprehensible 
 words the difference between "there are," and ''there are no." 
 
V. DISCUSSION OF THREE HYPOTHESES UPON THE 
 ABSENCE OF SPEECH IN OUR SUBJECT 
 
 Let us now analyze the sjmaptoms which we have just described 
 and attempt to interpret them. 
 
 It is evident at the outset that Denise presents an excellent 
 case of dissociation between the faculty of speech and the faculty 
 of comprehending speech, and this dissociation must be brought 
 more clearly to light and then explained if this is possible, 
 
 Denise understands very well the words of certain sentences, 
 therefore she must have a certain memory for words; she must 
 have such memory in order to recognize the words pronounced, 
 because, if she did not recognize them, she would not comprehend 
 them ; she must also have this memory in order to execute a com- 
 mand which is not immediate but which requires a little time. 
 She is told to go and get a bouquet that is on the table; while she 
 is on the way she must remember for a certain time what is said 
 to her otherwise she could not execute the command and would 
 come back empty handed. 
 
 How then does it happen that being capable of recalling a word 
 she should be incapable of pronouncing it? This observation 
 proves above every thing else the independence of these two 
 faculties. Certain authors have insisted that the muscular sense 
 is such an important thing that even to understand a word we 
 partly articulate it. Denise takes it upon herself to refute this 
 exaggerated opinion; this may be true of certain individuals of 
 an accentuated motor type but it has no general value. Denise 
 in fact understands a sentence of five or six words but is incap- 
 able of repeating a single one of those words. But this indepen- 
 dence of the two functions once verified, it remains to be explained 
 how it happens that this subject has not obeyed the very natural 
 phenomenon of psycho-motor induction, and that, having posses- 
 sion of these words through memory, she has not become apt in 
 pronouncing them. Where is the obstacle? 
 
 Let us first note what happens with children and with animals. 
 
 At eight or ten months a normal child already understands 
 
 177. 
 
178 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 many words. He does not commence to speak until much later, 
 at fifteen or eighteen months. With the adult also the faculty of 
 comprehension surpasses constantly that of execution. How 
 many unknown words there are whose sense one can divine, sen- 
 tences complex and delicately shaded that one understands, and 
 that one could not invent or even repeat! Let us take an extreme 
 example: the dog recognizes his name and a dozen other words, 
 as cheese, soup, go out, get away, etc. ; and yet he could certainly 
 never bark out a single word. All these facts lead to the con- 
 clusion that it is normal for one to understand language long 
 before one can speak. 
 
 Is it the same with our patient? This can be disputed. Three 
 fundamental explanations can be suggested; they are fundamental 
 as it seems to us because any others that could be imagined are 
 but the variations of these three. 
 
 The first consists in assuming an acquired aphasia. Then one 
 would have to admit that Denise had been striken with a circum- 
 scribed lesion in the nervous centers of articulated language; one 
 would have to admit, for example, if one is a localizer of the old 
 school, that Denise is reduced to the pronunciation of so few 
 words because she has been the victim of an accident, a softening 
 for instance, in the third left frontal convolution. In the hospi- 
 tals for deaf-mutes, children have been observed who present 
 the unusual association of the two following symptoms ; they hear 
 but they do not speak; according to the usual expression under 
 such circumstances they are hearing-mutes. It has been admitted 
 that they suffer from a cerebral lesion which has produced in 
 their cases a motor aphasia of articulation. Has our imbecile 
 Denise also aphasia produced by a cerebral lesion? We do not 
 think so. Upon this point, be it well understood, we can only 
 conjecture; only we remark that by her clinical aspect she does not 
 at all resemble an aphasic patient. When an adult who has once 
 spoken is deprived of articulate language by a circumscribed 
 cerebral lesion, one always observes in him an evident contrast 
 between his desire, his need of speech on the one hand, and his 
 absence of speech on the other. With Denise nothing of this 
 kind is observed; she makes no effort to speak. Besides, and this 
 second argument is still more decisive than the first, she has 
 never spoken better than she now speaks; she has not therefore 
 been deprived of a function that she had exercised previously. 
 
ABSENCE OP SPEECH — DISCUSSION 179 
 
 A second hypothesis, very distinct from the preceding, would 
 consist in admitting that Denise and subjects who resemble her 
 are stricken with congenital motor aphasia. There would also be 
 among idiots, those defectives who do not even understand articu- 
 late language, a congenital word deafness. These expressions have 
 already been proposed by different authors; but in proposing them, 
 one has not seemed to realize their bearing; it has even sometimes 
 been believed that the expression was the equivalent of saj-ing 
 simply has never spoken, has never understood speech! We do not 
 in the least agree with this manner of looking at the matter; and 
 to show the error it is sufficient to remark that it would be an 
 incongruity equal to that of saying of a normal child of two months, 
 who as yet understands nothing of what is said to him, this child 
 is stricken with congenital word deafness; obviously, this would 
 be absurd. Congential aphasia imphes a lack of development of 
 the organs necessary to language, an atrophy sufficiently accentu- 
 ated to have a really pathological character and to constitute a 
 contrast between the arrested development of the centers of lan- 
 guage and the much greater development of the other centers of 
 the same brain. This is truly the only reasonable meaning that 
 one can give to these expressions. 
 
 But, in place of the hypothesis of the failure of language through 
 local accidents we prefer another hypothesis which brings in the 
 level of intelligence. It seems to us that, exactly like a child 
 of ten months, Denise does not speak because she is not 
 intelligent enough to speak. This last explanation, to which we 
 give our preference, is not of an essentially psychological nature, 
 and we ask that it be not opposed to the preceding, as a psycho- 
 logical hj'-pothesis which would be opposed to an anatomical or 
 physiological hypothesis. It is for convenience of language, and 
 in order to be more quickly understood, that we say that the 
 lack of language of our patient is to be attributed to the inferiority 
 of her intellectual level; this same thought could easily be trans- 
 lated into anatomical terms, and one could say equally well that 
 if there is in Denise an atrophy of the centers of language, this 
 atrophy is neither greater nor less than for that of the rest of 
 her brain. What has been learned up to this time from autopsies 
 made upon the brains of imbeciles points in this direction. We 
 do not know that a special localized reduction of volume in the 
 cerebral centers that control language has been observed among 
 imbeciles. 
 
180 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 What are the reasons which make us admit that it is the intel- 
 lectual level of Denise that is responsible for her pseudo-aphasia? 
 Let us recall first what is beyond all discussion. Denise is a low 
 grade imbecile. 
 
 A very strong argument in favor of our explanation results 
 from the comparison of Denise with other imbeciles. We have 
 often said we must not make a study of only one of these sub- 
 jects, they must be brought together and a synthesis made of 
 all the observations. Moreover we can demonstrate that imbe- 
 ciles in general speak little ; and middle-grade imbeciles especially 
 speak a very limited language; they make very short sentences 
 with rudimentary syntax. The case of Denise, when closely com- 
 pared to theirs, becomes clear; it no longer has an isolated char- 
 acter, as would be the case if Denise had been the victim of some 
 cerebral accident ; one has the feeling that with low grade imbe- 
 ciles a lack of the development of language reigns supreme, and 
 that Denise has carried this common trait to its maximum. 
 
VI. THE PSYCHOLOGICAL CONDITION OF SPEECH; 
 EXPERIMENTS AND THEORY 
 
 A skeptic who had followed our discussion might say, "You 
 take a great deal of pains for nothing. By a great reinforcement 
 of arguments, you have demonstrated that if your patient does 
 not speak, or speaks very little, it is because she is in the same 
 mental state as a little child of from eight to twelve months who 
 also understands many words but does not yet speak. For the 
 general study of imbecility no doubt it is an advantage to demon- 
 strate that the lack of language among these patients depends 
 upon the weakness of their intelligence. But you do not wish 
 here to pose as a clinician, you are using only psychology; you are 
 seeking to discover the psychological conditions of the formation 
 of language. Therefore why should you take an imbecile for 
 study when all your effort will consist in concluding that these 
 things take place in her as though she were a little normal child. 
 Would it not be more simple, more clear, more decisive to leave 
 your imbecile, and confine yourself to the study of the normal 
 child?" 
 
 It is very evident that we have made these objections to our 
 own method because we know how to reply to them. 
 
 It is very true that children understand the language of those 
 about them long before they can speak; and it has always appeared 
 logical that the phase of comprehension always precedes the phase 
 of speech although the two phases overlap each other. This 
 chronological order is reasonable; before giving one must receive; 
 before pronouncing a word one must know it. But one has never 
 gone farther than to affirm the logic of this chronology, and the 
 very pretty problem which is there posed has not been seen, 
 because one thought only of normal children. Here is the prob- 
 lem stated in expHcit terms. A child of twelve months, for in- 
 stance, understands the sense of some sixty words which he hears 
 almost constantly. Why does he not spontaneously pronounce 
 them on his own account when he has the idea to do it? It seems 
 to us that this problem is fundamental, because it puts directly 
 
 181. 
 
182 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 before us the psychogenetic conditions of speech; but those who 
 study only the normal child never dream of putting it; they simply 
 say, "Give the normal child time to familiarize himself with the 
 60 words which he understands but cannot yet pronounce." Or 
 one will reply, "If he does not yet pronounce the words it is because 
 he does not yet feel the need, that he has not the idea, etc." 
 
 These replies only evade the problem. One sees this very well 
 when one deals with an imbecile such as our subject Denise. Here 
 is a young girl of twenty-five years, who certainly understands 
 more than two hundred words even in complicated sentences and 
 who employs scarcely one, and who will probably remain all her 
 life at the stage of comprehension without being able to arrive 
 at that of spontaneous speech. Evidently one can not in a similar 
 case reply that the subject has not yet had time to perfect herself 
 or that she does not pronounce these words because she has not 
 yet felt the need. Neither can one be content with remarking 
 that her intelligence is the cause, and that the poverty of her 
 vocabulary is explained by a falling away of her intelligence; the 
 intelligence is a unit and the explanation lacks precision. Let us 
 strive to find, therefore, what is essential to spontaneous speech 
 and let us see whether or not this essential mechanism is lacking 
 in our patient. 
 
 We are obliged to resort somewhat to theory, for which we 
 apologize, but it cannot be dispensed with. In order to institute 
 an experiment as is our intention one must have a little guiding 
 thread. 
 
 It is a question of pronouncing a word oneself, a word known to 
 everyone, but in which one takes the initiative. Let us say, 
 in order to fix our ideas, that it is the question of a word desig- 
 nating an object before us, a chair or a table; let us say that our 
 subject is not alone but is with another person who shows him 
 the table, and who asks, "What is that?" Let us further say that 
 our subject understands the sense of the request made of him, 
 and let us pass by all that is implied in that comprehension, and 
 linait ourselves to the pronunciation of that simple reply which 
 should be given, "a table." 
 
 For the subject to be capable of pronouncing this simple word 
 properly under the given conditions so that it will be easily under- 
 stood, many conditions must be realized. Let us enumerate all 
 those which we can imagine. 
 
PSYCHOLOGY OF SPEECH 183 
 
 1. It is necessary to know and to understand in a general manner 
 that words serve to designate objects, and that their function is 
 to name objects. This knowledge, expressed in abstract form, 
 appears subtle; but it is only subtle in our manner of expressing 
 it and of taking it into account. In reality, it is accessible to 
 very rudimentary intelligence, since domestic animals understand 
 the language of gesture and even of words. Recently a dog has 
 been reported who obeyed the command, "Go and bring my 
 slippers." 
 
 2. The second condition is more precise; it is necessary to 
 possess an association of a certain nature uniting definite words 
 to definite things. It is necessary that the word chair be united 
 in memory to the chair, to its visual aspect, to its use, in such a 
 manner that when one pronounces the word before the subject, 
 this person has the idea of its signification. We have however 
 seen that comprehension always precedes spontaneous speech, 
 
 3. Another association must also exist, which acts in an inverse 
 sense, that is from the idea to the word ; it is necessary that when 
 the object is perceived, or conceived, this perception or this idea 
 should be able to awaken the memory of the word and produce 
 the mental evocation. 
 
 4. One must have the power of pronouncing the word, that is 
 to say of executing the phonetic movements necessary for its 
 articulation. 
 
 It will be noted that in this brief analysis, reduced to the maxi- 
 mum of simplicity, we have not had recourse to the hypothesis 
 of motor images of articulation. Do such images exist? It may 
 be doubted. In any case it is of no interest here to raise a diffi- 
 cult question which we can easily afford to pass. 
 
 Let us now return to our imbecile, and let us see what it is 
 that prevents her from speaking spontaneously. Is it the evoca- 
 tion of the word? Is it the pronunciation? 
 
 Her pronunciation is defective, certainly, and there is here per- 
 haps a slight obstacle to the development of her language. But 
 we can eliminate this obstacle in certain precise experiments and 
 see what is produced in consequence. In this manner we could 
 convince ourselves that her difficulty in articulation in nowise 
 prevents her from speaking. Let us take advantage of the fact 
 that she pronounces correctly and easily the word, "papa" in 
 echolalia, that is to say when it is pronounced before her. There 
 
184 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 is no difficulty of articulation with this word; let us use it then 
 for oar experiments. 
 
 We take a music box which we find by chance upon the table 
 of our office where we are with our imbecile; we show the object 
 to her while saying and repeating over and over, "You see what 
 I have here? You see this object? You see it? See what it 
 is! Look well at it! I am going to tell you what it is. You 
 don't know what it is? I am going to tell you. Well it is papa. 
 Do you hear? It is papa! Papa! Papa! It is papa!" We con- 
 tinue thus with ardor to repeat the same words, all the time mov- 
 ing the object, looking at it, pointing to it, and making every 
 effort to fix the attention of the patient upon the object. 
 
 Denise, who is amused by the play, repeats after us "papa," 
 and we even make her touch the music box, while repeating after 
 us the same word. We thus succeed in quite rapidly forming an 
 association between the object and word. If in fact we ask her 
 some time afterwards, when we have replaced the object on the 
 table, "Where is papa? Give me papa," she points to the music 
 box on the table without hesitating, although there are a dozen 
 other articles upon the table, and although we do not facilitate 
 the designation by a gesture or a glance towards the object. But 
 this association which is formed is imilateral. If we take the music 
 box and say, "What is this? What is this called?" She never 
 says "papa," she says nothing, she stands with her mouth open. 
 
 Let us first examine this unilateral association. It has under- 
 gone many fiuctuations. Three minutes after the experiment it 
 seems to have disappeared. If we again ask her where is papa, 
 she points to one of us. In response to a sign of disapprobation, 
 she points to the table and puts her finger insistently upon the 
 table; all the time that we repeat the question, "Where is papa?" 
 she replies "aya" while designating either the table or the cloth 
 on the table; she even identifies the table, it would seem, with 
 the memory of her real father, and leans over and embraces the 
 table with comical expressions of affection. Our lesson is there- 
 fore forgotten. We begin over again presenting the music box, 
 which is there all the while, and we affirm over again that it is 
 papa. Denise immediately accepts the correction, begins again 
 to show the music box when one asks for papa, and even embraces 
 the object devotedly as she did the table. 
 
 From this moment the association is established. Five minutes 
 
PSYCHOLOGY OF SPEECH 185 
 
 afterwards when one asks for papa, she shows the music box with- 
 out hesitation and embraces it. Even better, two days later we 
 see Denise again in the same surroundings; and immediately 
 before saying another word we ask, "Where is papa?" Without 
 hesitation, she turns to the table, takes the music box and gives 
 it to us. Note carefully that every time we make the demand 
 we are very careful not to cast a glance toward the object which 
 might guide the patient. There is therefore established in her, 
 thanks to the experiment which we have made, an association of 
 ideas which goes from the word heard to the object. 
 
 But never, when we present the music box, has she said "papa;" 
 no more at the second than at the first sitting. She contented 
 herself by replying to the question many times repeated, "What is 
 this?" by "yes," or else she taps the object laughing, and pro- 
 nounces nothing. Perhaps one might have secured better results 
 after many weeks of training. But as it now stands our experi- 
 ment seems to us to be complete; it demonstrates that to pass 
 from the object to the name, our subject experiences a very much 
 greater difficulty than to pass from the name to the object, which 
 is the important fact we wished t9 demonstrate. 
 
 Nevertheless it is not the pronunciation of the word that em- 
 barrasses her; she has no difficulty of articulation, because she 
 repeats the word papa, after having heard it; moreover one can 
 obtain its repetition from her in all sorts of intonations; still more, 
 one can lead her to repeat it when it is pronounced before her in 
 a whisper; and it has even happened that when we pronounced 
 before her the word "mama" in a very low voice, she had never- 
 theless said papa. She can then pronounce the word from repe- 
 tition, or more rarely from suggestion by a movement of the lips; 
 it is inductive evocation excited by audition or by seeing the move- 
 ment of the lips. 
 
 What is lacking in her, is the evocation of the word by presenta- 
 tion of the object, that is to say, through lack of the idea of sense. 
 
 Here then is the conclusion at which we arrive; it is a conclu- 
 sion which, from the psychological point of view, note this well, 
 does not bring into play any special memory, nor any of the 
 images which have been so much used and abused in the different 
 theories of aphasia and which have for this reason taken on such 
 an artificial character. From our point of view there are three 
 necessary stages in the acquisition of language. 
 
186 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 1. The comprehension of words, of which we shall say very- 
 little here, and which, roughly speaking, consists in associating 
 the spoken word with the idea. 
 
 2. The articulation of words consisting in the habits acquired 
 by the organs of articulation under the supervision of the ear and 
 the auditory memory. 
 
 These two phases succeed each other but the second is not 
 implied in the first nor is it the logical development of it. The 
 word that one hears and that one understands is not the same that 
 one pronounces. In the one case it is a question of an auditory 
 sensation or of an auditory memory, and in the second case it 
 is a motor act. It is therefore quite possible that one may have 
 heard and may be capable of representing or of recognizing what 
 one has heard, without for that reason being clever enough to 
 coordinate the movements necessary for pronouncing. Exactly 
 as it is possible that one might have seen an artist paint a pic- 
 ture and yet be incapable of painting. There is therefore a whole 
 apprenticeship to be made, and we see or rather we infer that for 
 many reasons this apprenticeship is long and consequently the 
 advent of spoken language is retarded; the phonetic movements 
 are very much more delicate and probably very much more 
 difficult to execute than the gestures of the limbs; and the proof 
 is, that the idiot and the low grade imbecile, who have become 
 capable of executing movements of the body under our order, 
 such as to get up, sit down, raise the arms, etc., do not succeed 
 in controlling their larynx and in drawing from that instrument 
 articulate sounds. That which further proves the difficulty of 
 articulation as compared with other movements, is all the awk- 
 wardness of pronunciation which we observe in subnormals and 
 which are much more frequent among them than among normals. 
 
 3. The third phase is the evocation of coordinated movements 
 of the larynx. This evocation is difficult and continues so even 
 when the movements have been acquired with their coordination 
 and one is already able to pronounce a word. The most simple 
 and direct means of evocation is the audition of the corresponding 
 articulated sound; another means is the sight of the movement 
 of the lips. It is, on the contrary, very much less easy to pass 
 from the idea of a thing to the execution of the phonetic move- 
 ment necessary for naming that thing. We ourselves can realize 
 this difficulty when, thinking of a known person, we have trouble 
 
PSYCHOLOGY OF SPEECH 187 
 
 in recalling his name; it must be that this difficulty is really great 
 since it is sufficient to block the way for Denise and prevent her 
 from ever employing articulate speech. 
 
 It is this third phase, up to the present misunderstood or at 
 least little known, which has been clearly brought out by the 
 observation of our imbecile. It is a phase having a character of 
 utilization, a dynamic character. If we attempt to represent 
 what is passing in the mind of Denise at the moment when we 
 are vainly attempting to make her give the name with which 
 we have baptized the music box, we find that not a single one of 
 the elements necessary for finding the name is lacking. She 
 knows the word papa, since she has already heard it and recog- 
 nized it; this proves that she has retained the auditory memory 
 of it; she is capable of pronouncing the word, since she pronounced 
 it in echolalia; she has retained the sense of the word, since she 
 goes and gets the music box when she is told to show us papa. 
 It can be seen that an author, partisan to the importance of 
 images in aphasia, would recognize that all the images are here 
 present. What is lacking is the realization of the existing asso- 
 ciations, the functioning of estabhshed habits, the particular mode 
 of functioning which enables us to pass from the idea to the 
 phonetic act. 
 
VII. COMPARISON BETWEEN APHASIA PROPERLY SO- 
 CALLED AND THE POVERTY OF LANGUAGE 
 OF THE LOW-GRADE IMBECILE 
 
 It has often been said that certain idiots and imbeciles deprived 
 of speech are aphasics; we ourselves in studying certain of our 
 subjects, Denise for instance, the young woman whose speech is 
 reduced to four or five words, have discussed the idea that she 
 might be stricken with some cerebral lesion which has produced 
 in her the symptoms of motor aphasia. Our conclusion has been 
 negative. Abandoning our patient we are now going to examine 
 a true aphasic from cerebral lesion and make on this occasion a 
 parallel between the aphasia symptoms produced by lesions and 
 the symptoms of the lack of language observed with idiots and 
 imbeciles. 
 
 M. X. a man of thirty nine years exercising the profession 
 
 of clock maker was stricken about a year ago with aphasia. We 
 have only this single bit of information in regard to him. He 
 presents himself to us with all the outward signs of a man of 
 intelligence. His manner of salutation, of taking the proffered 
 chair, of listening to us is quite different from that of an imbecile. 
 If we speak to him he leans forward and makes a visible effort to 
 understand us and if he does not understand he lets us know by 
 an expressive gesture that he desires us to repeat. From time 
 to time he himself starts to speak; he makes many gestures with 
 great earnestness, even rises to give more force to his exposition, 
 touches the table, indicates certain points of the table, then of 
 his body, but since his vocabulary is reduced to six or eight words 
 we are not able to grasp his thought. From time to time he per- 
 ceives that he has not made himself understood, or rather he 
 perceives that the word sought for fails him, because in the 
 middle of his efforts, he stops and says in a grave discouraged 
 voice, "No, not that," then he falls into an immovable and re- 
 signed silence. We note also that when he speaks in his own 
 way, he continues to do so only because we appear to be listening 
 to him. If we turn away our eyes or speak to another person he 
 
 188 
 
APHASIA VS. POVERTY OF LANGUAGE 189 
 
 immediately perceives it and is silent, possibly from a feeling of 
 propriety. All these signs prove that he retains an intelligence 
 very superior to that of an imbecile. The only point where the 
 subject seems to lack comprehension is this; the explanations 
 which he gives us by gesture are practically incomprehensible to 
 us, and yet he does not always seem to perceive this ; he seems to 
 imagine that we can understand him. 
 
 A word upon his intelligence in general. We possess two tests 
 of intelligence not dependent upon speech, which indicate an 
 intelligence superior to imbecility; these are the arranging of five 
 weights and a quite complicated game of patience. No one lower 
 in intelligence than a moron can place the 5 weights in order; and 
 the game of patience is only possible to a high grade moron. Our 
 aphasic came out well in both tests although he was slow in the 
 execution. He found it difficult to weigh the weights two by 
 two so as to find the heaviest but once well begun he succeeded in 
 arranging them exactly. The game of patience also embarrassed 
 him but he studied it with intelligence and after many fruitless 
 and prolonged attempts he at last arrived at the exact solution. 
 All this proves that his intelligence is notably superior to that of 
 an imbecile; it is at least equal to that of a moron. 
 
 Let us now make the analysis of the aphasic phenomena which 
 this patient presents. He is especially stricken with motor aphasia 
 or aphemia; he is moreover incapable of reading, or of writing from 
 dictation, and is in the third degree of word deafness. Let us 
 remark at once that this combination of aphasia symptoms recalls 
 in a striking manner what we noticed in the observations of our 
 imbecile Denise. 
 
 Articulate speech. Spontaneously our invalid employs a very 
 
 limited number of words: "yes, no that, yes that, no 
 
 no that, yes that, no 1 wait " are the current 
 
 expressions with which he accompanies his gestures when he 
 wishes to give an explanation. From time to time he utters a 
 word more complicated as comrade, clock. Of course we do not 
 pretend to give a complete list of the vocabulary which he still 
 retains; the important thing is to notice how much it is reduced 
 in the spontaneous speech of ideation which consists in expressing 
 
 a personal thought. X retains a few more words in the 
 
 speech of automatic recitation, which consists in repeating words 
 learned in a series, than in spontaneous speech of ideation. It is 
 
190 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 thus that he manages to count aloud to twenty; this recitation is 
 performed with a great deal of effort and with much time, but 
 very correctly. There is here an interesting contrast with the 
 spontaneous speed of ideation. We will say the same of the speech 
 of denomination. If one presents to him a familiar object, pencil, 
 pen holder, book, watch, paper, or asks him the color of an object, 
 
 X sometimes is ignorant of the name of the object, or gives 
 
 up trying to find it, or gives a name, sometimes correctly, some- 
 times a name closely allied (clock for watch, pencil for pen holder). 
 The speech of denomination is therefore a little better conserved 
 than that of the spontaneous speech of ideation. 
 
 There remains a last form of speech, the speech of repetition. 
 
 X cannot repeat a sentence and if one is proposed to him, 
 
 he does not repeat it at all ; but he repeats exactly a simple sound, 
 as for instance simple vowels; the sound he emits, without being 
 always pure (u resembles eu) is nevertheless recognizable. He can 
 also repeat a single syllable pa and ba. But he cannot repeat a 
 polysyllable word like papa; moreover he can repeat a single 
 figure, but repeats two with difficulty and never three; and it is 
 all the more surprising since, as we have just seen, thanks to the 
 speech of automatic recitation, he can articulate in a series all 
 the figures from one to twenty. It is not therefore properly speak- 
 ing the articulation of the different figures that presents this diffi- 
 culty to him, but rather the representation, the memory of the 
 three figures to be repeated. 
 
 One might say that X repeated like an imbecile. There is 
 
 here certainly a most important point to notice. X resembles 
 
 really very many of our imbeciles who speak a little, can repeat 
 a figure or two, but never three. 
 
 Word comprehension. There are, it seems, two forms to dis- 
 tinguish in verbal audition. The first could be called the verbal 
 comprehension of ideation. One speaks to a person and this per- 
 son, thanks to the words which he hears, understands the thought. 
 
 With X this form is conserved, but it is deeply affected. He 
 
 understands certain sentences; as for others he slightly misunder- 
 stands them. Thus we say, "Carry an object to the nearby 
 table," and he understands, "next room;" he opens the door, 
 crosses a corridor and with much seriousness carries the object 
 into another room. He executes very well certain orders as "Open 
 the door." But at our command he cannot point to his nose. 
 
APHASIA VS. POVERTY OF LANGUAGE 
 
 191 
 
 mouth or ears. He seems to understand that it is a question of 
 his face. But his hand wanders over his features with indecision. 
 On the other hand he has better verbal comprehension of objects. 
 We have just seen that he cannot find his ear when it is asked of 
 him; but if we touch his ear, and ask him, "Is it a pen holder? 
 a horse? a dog?" he repKes everytime with great deliberation and 
 as if after long rejflection, "No, not chat." And when one pro- 
 nounces the word ear, his eyes brighten, and he is overjoyed to 
 say to us with many gestures, "That's it." Under certain cir- 
 cumstances in order to find the name of an object, we have seen 
 him resort to a union of two processes, which we have called the 
 speech of automatic recitation and the verbal comprehension of 
 objects. One writes before him the number 12 and asks him what 
 it is. He counts 1, 2, 3, etc., until he reaches the number 12 
 (automatic recitation) and there he stops, compares the word 12 
 to the symbol he has under his eyes, (verbal comprehension of 
 objects); he finds an agreement between the word and the figure, 
 and affirms energetically "12," putting his finger on the number. 
 
 As to writing, he possesses only the writing of automatic repeti- 
 tion, he writes his name ; he has not spontaneous writing of ideation, 
 copying, or dictation. Reading does not exist; it is lost. 
 
 Let us carefully note that in the preceding descriptions we have 
 paid no attention to the inner language of our subject nor to the 
 state of his images. We have voluntarily set aside these difficult 
 and perhaps artificial questions subject to innumerable interpre- 
 tations. Let as limit ourselves to making the most of the objec- 
 tive symptoms which we have noted. We can arrange them in 
 a particular order which corresponds to the degree of their de- 
 creasing conservation, the first of the list being the best preserved. 
 
 Speech of automatic 
 
 
 Writing of automatic 
 
 recitation 
 
 
 repetition. (Signa- 
 ture) 
 
 Speech of the denomi- 
 
 Comprehension of de- 
 
 
 nation of objects 
 
 nomination 
 
 
 Speech of ideation 
 
 Comprehension of 
 ideation 
 
 
 Speech of repetition 
 
 
 
 There exists then a very clear order in the appearing of these 
 symptoms, and this order seems to be the same for speech, com- 
 
192 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 prehension, and writing. Thus the speech of ideation is more 
 difficult, more unstable than the speech of recitation; and the 
 speech of repetition is the most unstable of all. This instability- 
 seems to be a fact of observation which we must accept without 
 trying to explain it by any theories. If further investigations 
 confirm our classification this then is the hypothesis which can 
 be put forth. 
 
 The production of aphasia would then be dependent upon two 
 principal factors; the seat of the lesion, and the greater or less 
 degree of integrity of the nervous organ affected. It is the seat 
 of the lesion which determines the form of the aphasia, rendering 
 it motor or sensorial, or explains the complexity of the form of 
 the aphasia, which may be partial or total. This form once 
 determined, it remains to determine the degree of the aphasia; 
 and it is here that the distinction of degrees which we have just 
 indicated comes in; there is, for the three species of language, a 
 hierarchy of different degrees; the more complex are lost first; 
 the spontaneous speech of ideation for example would be lost 
 very much before the speech of automatic recitation. The speech 
 of suspended repetition also long before the speech of automatic 
 recitation. 
 
 But if observation confirms this hypothesis, it is probable that 
 curious analogies will be found between the state of aphasia and 
 the state of speech among imbeciles. Without doubt certain 
 forms of aphasia present themselves which have nothing analogous 
 to what is found in imbeciles, thus sensorial aphasia appears in 
 diverse phenomena, notably in word deafness, in subjects who 
 continue to have the power of speech. The malady has produced 
 a lesion, which operates in a sense the reverse of psychogenesis, 
 because one begins to understand before one begins to speak, 
 and no imbecile can exist who, by his own lack of intelligence, 
 could present anything analogous to sensorial aphasia; that is to 
 say, who would speak without understanding the spoken words. 
 It is not by the form, that is to say by the nature of the function 
 attacked, that the imbecile resembles the aphasic, but by the 
 degree. One function being affected, let us say for instance 
 speech, the series of the degrees of alteration which the aphasic 
 would present will be a psychogenetic series, whose general grada- 
 tion will be found exactly repeated in the imbecile. This at 
 least is the hypothesis which we formulate. 
 
VIII. THE FUNCTION OF LANGUAGE AS A SIGN OF 
 HUMAN INTELLIGENCE 
 
 Among the physiological definitions of man, one of those most 
 often cited consists in considering the use of articulate speech as 
 the most characteristic mark of the human. The philosophers 
 have started from this point to exalt the beauty of the function 
 of language; and it has even seemed that it required nothing less 
 than the whole human intelligence to render speech possible. 
 Abstract studies that have been written upon language have sus- 
 tained this illusion. In reasoning upon this function, they have 
 sought to present it as a wonder of reflexion and elaboration. 
 Currently the psychologists have maintained that language results 
 from an implicit convention, consisting in the use of words as 
 signs, substitutes, symbols of objects and of thoughts. In other 
 words, language would suppose an intelligence capable of per- 
 ceiving a general relation between things and their verbal signs.^ 
 Presented imder this form, the idea which is held to have presided 
 at the formation of language seems so complex that one is not 
 astonished that animals are incapable of it and consequently are 
 deprived of language. 
 
 Other conclusions, obtained by investigations in the clinical 
 domain, have lately added their weight to the preceding. We 
 allude to the work and theories of Marie and his pupils.^ 
 
 Marie sought, by a series of observations and of autopsies, to 
 renew the conception of aphasia. We do not speak of his ideas 
 upon the seat of this lesion, but only of his physiological observa- 
 tions. He asserts that, "with all aphasics there exists a very 
 marked diminution of the intellectual capacity in general," and 
 that neurologists have committed a grave error, in declaring in 
 
 * To our minds this is establishing a confusion between the perception 
 of a relation and its realization. It suflBces that the relation is realized 
 in order that language exist. 
 
 * See L'Annee psychol., vol. XIII, p. 344, an account rendered by Bern- 
 heim of recent theories of aphasia. The short original articles of Marie, 
 appeared in the Semaine medicale, May 23, 1906 and October 17, 1906. 
 Cf. These de Moutier, Aphasie de Broca, Paris, 1908. 
 
 193 
 
194 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 their definition of aphasia, that "the intelligence is intact." He 
 even declares that, for his part, if he had to give a definition of 
 aphasia, the fact which above all else he would endeavor to bring 
 out would be the diminution of intelligence. He warns us against 
 the apparent intelligence, which aphasics may present in conse- 
 quence of the fact that they retain the power of mimicry, the 
 emotional faculty, and the sentiment of propriety; with great 
 reason, he aflarms that the intellectual deficiency of aphasics may 
 escape a superficial view, and he demands a methodical examina- 
 tion of his patients. 
 
 We shall speak in a moment of this examination, and we shall 
 discuss the procedure and the results. But first of all what role 
 does Marie assign to the intellectual deficiency of aphasics? Upon 
 this important point we regret to assert that his thought remains 
 vague. Or, to speak more clearly, we believe that in these two 
 articles he has changed his point of view. He reproaches the 
 clinicians, who have recognized this deficiency, with considering 
 it as an accessory phenomenon, and with being very wrong in 
 not taking it into account when constructing a theory about 
 aphasia. This criticism would seem to suppose that for Marie 
 the deficiency is not a coincidence, but an integral part of the 
 aphasia. 
 
 In the first article he writes expressly in regard to sensorial 
 aphasia, or aphasia of Wernicke, that if these patients speak 
 badly, have jargon aphasia or paraphasia, it is "in consequence of 
 intellectual decay;" this decay would account for their so-called 
 word deafness and their incapacity to read and write. Note 
 carefully that the theory thus sketched is very significant, for it 
 applies not only to the aphasia of Wernicke but also to the aphasia 
 of Broca, which would only be, according to the same author, a 
 sensorial aphasia complicated by anarthria. 
 
 Let us now pass to the second of the articles cited ; there Marie 
 seems to have moderated his first thesis, or rather to have com- 
 pletely changed it, because replying to Dejerine who called his 
 attention to the fact that dements and general paralytics, in spite 
 of their intellectual deficiency, do not become aphasics, he does 
 not hesitate to object that there may be some dissociation in the 
 intelligence, and he admits that the "intellectual deficiency of the 
 aphasic is specialized." He says again, that the "gamut of intel- 
 lectual decay is singularly varied, as much from the point of view 
 
LANGUAGE AS A SIGN OF INTELLIGENCE 195 
 
 of the quantity as of the quahty," and he adds, what everybody 
 will regret, that he has not the possibility of expatiating further 
 upon this order of ideas. 
 
 In fact this last concession, that the deficiency of aphasia is 
 specialized, seems to destroy what there is of psychological origi- 
 nality in the theory of Marie; because if one admits that only that 
 part of the intelligence of the aphasic which relates to language is 
 affected, one returns more or less implicitly to the ancient theory 
 which makes aphasia a disturbance of the function of language. 
 Without wishing to insist farther upon this particular point, we 
 shall speak upon the question of how it is that Marie seems to 
 have afl&rmed in the beginning, as his contradictors have believed 
 that he affirmed, that the loss of language is due to a diminution 
 of the intelligence. '^ 
 
 The least criticism that can be made of these hypotheses is to 
 accuse them of vagueness in not determining the amount of intelli- 
 gence necessary for speech. Not only are the conclusions vague 
 but still more one finds numerous suppositions that are not demon- 
 strated. Marie, for instance, affirms that an aphasic, a cook by 
 trade, cannot cook an egg as well as before the appearance of his 
 aphasia; in concluding that it is his intellectual weakening which 
 explains, in part at least, the loss of speech, one might make 
 this unverifiable supposition that the intellectual weakening is 
 sufficiently profound to render language impossible. We borrow 
 another example still more disputable from the same author; he 
 affirms in some experiments, which are by the way of a very 
 interesting originality, that one of these aphasics is incapable of 
 performing three commissions which are given to him simul- 
 taneously, either verbally or by gesture; this aphasic always for- 
 gets one or two of the three. We admit that this proves that he 
 is weakened from the intellectual point of view, but is such a 
 weakening sufficient to explain the loss of language? This is the 
 whole question. 
 
 ^ The doctrine of P. Marie upon aphasia, says Dejerine, may be summed 
 up in the following terms; sensorial aphasia is not a consequence of the 
 destruction of the sensorial images of language, because the author does 
 not regard the existence of these images as proven, and all the symptoms 
 that one encounters among patients are according to him due to a single and 
 only cause, the diminution of the intelligence. (Dejerine, Medical Press, 
 VII, 1906.) 
 
196 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 In order to answer this question we think it necessary to make 
 a distinction between the quantity of intelUgence necessary for 
 the formation of language, and the quantity necessary for the 
 conservation of language already acquired. This last case could 
 be studied in senile dementia and general paralysis; we limit our- 
 selves to that which concerns the formation of language. 
 
 If we have recourse to our measuring scale of intelligence, we 
 shall readily see that a normal child of six years easily performs 
 three commissions; but even at two years he speaks and under- 
 stands; one sees therefore that the intellectual level of the test 
 for three commissions is very much higher than the intellectual 
 level which suffices for the formation of language ; the superiority 
 amounts to four years. It is in this manner that we must study 
 dements, whether or not the facts are favorable to the thesis 
 which rightly or wrongly has been attributed to Marie. 
 
 One great interest in the study of children and also of imbeciles 
 is that we can bring precision into these questions of intellectual 
 level, which have always been treated with a vagueness altogether 
 amusing. By the examination of a series of idiots and imbeciles 
 it is possible to establish, with all the approximation desired, 
 what amount of intelligence is necessary for speaking and for 
 understanding, or at least, we establish by this method the condi- 
 tion of the intellectual faculties among defectives who can not 
 talk, and those who use only a few words. These belong to very 
 different levels. In this way one can establish upon an experi- 
 mental basis a hierarchy of psychical functions which until now 
 has never been done. 
 
 The impression which one receives from these new affirmations 
 is that the quantity of intelligence necessary for the use of speech 
 has been very much exaggerated. Denise, who is at the dawn of 
 language, is a low grade imbecile. Below her there are only 
 idiots, those who do not speak; they are sensitive only to the 
 language of gestures. But what is their intellectual level? We 
 doubt if it is greatly superior to that of an intelligent dog ; superior 
 : perhaps from certain points of view, inferior from others. The 
 idiot of the highest degree is capable of obeying a gesture, and 
 even of imitating a little; if one claps the hands before him or 
 dances or cries, he is capable of understanding that we wish him 
 to imitate these movements, and he is capable also of making a 
 crude imitation. This is the highest test of intelligence that we 
 
LANGUAGE AS A SIGN OF INTELLIGENCE 197 
 
 have been able to give them. Let us now pass to low grade imbe- 
 ciles of the type of Denise who have the beginnings of articulate 
 language; women of this type cannot do their hair, nor prepare 
 vegetables; but they can dress themselves, sometimes however, 
 putting on their clothes wrong side out. They are capable of 
 mechanical work which requires no discernment. We have seen 
 an imbecile man of this level who earned 20 sous a day blowing the 
 bellows of a forge. Put a pen in their hand they cannot even 
 copy a square; they do not understand the request, they cannot 
 conceive of copying, or in any case all their attempts at copying 
 are absolutely formless. It seems useless to give more details in 
 order to bring out the veritable intellectual level necessary for the 
 formation of language. It is sufficient for the moment that we 
 have summarily fixed this level, and that we have demonstrated 
 that with other experiments it can be determined with a very 
 great exactness. The essential was, however, to have demon- 
 strated that it is determinable. We also wished to show that 
 it is a very low intellectual level corresponding to low grade 
 imbecility. 
 
IX. THE EVOLUTION OF LANGUAGE 
 
 The possibility of placing in an ascending series the intelligence 
 of different imbeciles, thanks to the method which we have set 
 forth, has had the happy result of facilitating the study of the 
 development of language among defectives. This is a question 
 altogether new which we are simply going to outline. 
 
 Let us note first of all that the lowest grade imbeciles represent 
 the beginning of language; at this level there are no sentences 
 but only words. The imbecile that we have studied at length, 
 Denise, speaks only words. We have encountered two other low 
 grade imbeciles in the same condition. Furthermore, it is very 
 possible that this is not an absolute rule, and that the function 
 of language develops sometimes a little earlier, sometimes a little 
 later. In order to know this, it would be necessary to examine 
 a great number of subjects.^ 
 
 Let us remark that the words pronounced separately by these 
 imbeciles are mostly nouns, at times adjectives, and even verbs. 
 Are these grammatical distinctions very important? Or rather 
 is not the most important matter to note that these distinctions 
 are without interest? The grammatical function of words should, 
 we believe, be taken into consideration only when it has a definite 
 meaning to those who employ them. But it is very evident that 
 when one of our imbeciles employs a single word, that word does 
 not perform the function of verb, or of noun but of a whole 
 proposition. The adjective bad (mal) used by one of them signi- 
 fies "I feel bad" (J'ai mal), and the substantive rnama, means 
 "Mama gave me this or that." 
 
 Let us come to a higher level and consider imbeciles who are 
 capable of making sentences. Our observations are on an imbe- 
 cile of fifty, named Victor. 
 
 Victor is a man of robust aspect, tall, square shouldered, bronzed 
 
 * An attempt has been made by M. Maupate (Annales mSdicopsycholo- 
 giques), but the absence of all seriation among his subjects has very much 
 reduced the interest of the notes upon his experiments upon which his 
 work is based. 
 
 198 
 
EVOLUTION OF LANGUAGE 199 
 
 skin full of wrinkles, and the manners of a working man; one 
 would say an old sailor; his head is well formed, the features are 
 regular, and the expression of his countenance seems to show 
 more intelligence than the poor fellow really has. But he is 
 awkward in his movements; and even when he remains quiet, 
 whether standing or sitting, one recognizes in his attitude some- 
 thing—I don't know what— that is peculiar. Since this subject 
 has the use of language let us make him talk a little. 
 
 Q. What is your name, my friend? 
 
 A. Victor. 
 
 Q. From what place do you come? 
 
 A. Chdtenay. 
 
 Q. Where is Chdtenay? 
 
 A. Near Sceaux. 
 
 Q. Is there a large city near Chdtenay and Sceaux? 
 
 A. Versailles. 
 
 Q. And Paris? You know Paris. 
 
 A. Yes, monsieur. 
 
 Q. What is Paris? 
 
 A. To go to a sale. (He seems satisfied with his reply.) 
 
 Q. But besides that what is Paris? 
 
 A, To buy there merchandise. 
 
 Q. And where is it? 
 
 A. There. (He indicates any direction.) 
 
 Q. What is your trade? 
 
 A. Tiler. 
 
 Q. You go on the roofs? 
 
 A. Yes, monsieur. 
 
 Q. You have fallen? 
 
 A. Yes, monsieur There (He points to his head with earnestness, 
 
 and an air of self-pity, to show where he received a hurt in falling.) 
 Q. How much do you make as tiler? 
 A. Sixty francs. 
 Q. Every day? 
 A. Every day! 
 
 Q. (With a tone of correction) Every month? 
 A. (Eagerly) Every month! 
 Q. What was the profession of your father? 
 A. Tiler. 
 
 Q. And your mother, what did she do? 
 A. Worked among people. 
 Q. Ah? 
 
 A. Washed the dishes — sewed. 
 Q. Are your parents living? 
 A. (With a shade of sadness) They are both dead long ago. 
 
200 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 Q. How long ago? 
 
 A. A month ago. 
 
 Q. Why did you not continue to be a tiler? 
 
 A. Not much work all the iron merchants tilers. 
 
 Q. You have a sister? 
 A. Yes, sir. 
 
 Q. Your sister is older than you? 
 A. Older. 
 Q. Or younger? 
 A. Younger. 
 Q. What does she do? 
 A. Seamstress. 
 
 Q. What does her husband do? 
 A. Watch merchant at Enghien. 
 Q. Have they children? 
 A. (Shade of sadness) They are dead. 
 
 Q. Come now, tell me about your sister. Give me details. What does 
 she do? 
 
 A. Sews all the time with the sewing machine. 
 
 Q. And then? 
 
 A. Goes to the city to carry the linen. 
 
 Q. And then? 
 
 A. She fixes my shirt socks. 
 
 Q. Tell me something more. 
 
 A Don't know any more. 
 
 Q. Oh! yes, think. 
 
 A. I don't remember anything. 
 
 Q. What did you do this morning? 
 
 A. Brought the soup. 
 
 Q. And after that? 
 
 A. Brought the bread and the soup. 
 
 Q. And after that? 
 
 A. Eat. 
 
 Q. What else have you done? 
 
 A. Brought the drink. 
 
 Q. And then? 
 
 A. Eat. 
 
 Q. What do you know how to do? 
 
 A. (With pride) I can put wine in bottles. 
 
 Q. All alone? 
 
 A. All alone. 
 
 Q. Really. 
 
 A. Never broken a bottle. 
 
 Q. Are there others who can do that? 
 
 A. No, only I can. 
 
 Q. M. Simon (who is present), could he fill bottles? 
 
 A. I can show him. 
 
EVOLUTION OF LANGUAGE 201 
 
 All this dialogue goes on without irony, at least on the part of 
 Victor; he is attentive, remains several hours sitting beside us, 
 and concerns himself only with us; he is very much less distracted 
 than Denise who often gets up during the conversation to go to 
 the window to see what is passing outside. He has a serious, 
 conscientious, convinced and deferential attitude, especially during 
 our first sittings. Little by little he familiarizes himself with 
 us to the point of forgetting the feeling of conventionality, as 
 would a school boy with whom one had the imprudence to joke 
 too much. ■ But this manifested itself only in subsequent sittings. 
 
 Determination of level. It is evident from that which precedes 
 that it is here a question of a quite low mental level. But this 
 is only an impression and we cannot content ourselves with this 
 sort of medical subjectivity. These general questions by which 
 one very properly commences an examination in order to find out 
 a patient's general condition, have no other purpose than to enable 
 one to judge of the whole; this is excellent, necessary, and even 
 indispensable. If one begins the examination of a subject by a 
 precise test, he will not arrive at an idea of the whole; he would 
 perform a task as ridiculous as though he studied geography 
 with a microscope. No method is good except when one employs 
 it at the opportune moment and to the end for which it is designed. 
 Our general interrogations have given us the suspicion that, in 
 Victor's case, there is a reduction of all the faculties, a global 
 reduction. An analysis of detail v/hich would have been out of 
 place in the beginning must now intervene in order to bring pre- 
 cision into particular points. 
 
 Imbeciles like Victor, of the middle grade, can compare two 
 lines and two weights. Victor is clearly of this grade. If the 
 two lines are presented to him he understands, after explanation, 
 what is asked of him and indicates exactly the longer line. He 
 shows the same exactitude for the weights. He does not make 
 a mistake, even sounds the box by shaking it near his ear, and 
 easily finds the heavier (comparison between two boxes of 3 and 
 15 grams). He is consequently in the middle grade of imbecility. 
 Can he raise himself to the highest grade of imbecility? 
 
 For this level one must be able to repeat at least three figures, 
 execute three commissions at one time, know fairly well the names 
 of the pieces of money, the colors, the cards, know his age, the 
 number of his fingers, and other analogous things. This is about 
 
202 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 the stock of ordinary knowledge which a high grade imbecile is 
 able to acquire. In spite of his fifty years of existence Victor has 
 not yet been able to assimilate these. 
 
 The repetition of figures is never correct; he can never repeat 
 three exactly; he is mostly satisfied to repeat one, the last of the 
 series. At times he gives two, but transposes them; but three 
 figures are above his capacity. It is not willingness however 
 that is lacking. He is very attentive during the test, and listens 
 to us with his eyes fixed upon us. 
 
 For the three commissions he nearly executes them ; but he does 
 not entirely succeed. He is told to give the bouquet to M. Simon, 
 to carry the umbrella to M. Binet, then to carry his chair near 
 the window. He does the first two and seats himself satisfied. 
 "Is that all?" we ask him; he thinks again, gets up and takes the 
 chair where he was told. In another experiment he forgot the 
 first two commissions and remembered only the last. His exacti- 
 tude varies then from time to time ; but it is evident that one could 
 not place confidence in him to execute punctually three commis- 
 sions; in this regard he would not be utilizable. 
 
 Let us continue the examination of certain useful acquisitions 
 of the high grade imbecile and we shall see which are lacking in 
 Victor. 
 
 He does not know the number of his fingers. To the question, 
 "How many fingers have you," he rephes, 
 
 A. Five (another time he replies three). 
 Q. And on the other hand? 
 A. Seven. 
 
 This would be simply absurd if he understood the meaning of 
 the words ; but he has not the slightest notion, nor does he care in 
 the least. As to his age, he has the same indifference in the use 
 of words whose sense he does not realize. 
 
 Q. What is your age? 
 
 A. Don't know, monsieur. 
 
 Q. Are you two years old? 
 
 A. Yes, monsieur. 
 
 Q. Or, rather, perhaps you are a thousand years old? 
 
 A. Yes, monsieur. 
 
 He can recite, without too many mistakes, the figures from 1 
 to 10 sometimes skipping a figure; above 10 he makes many omis- 
 
EVOLUTION OF LANGUAGE 203 
 
 sions and many transpositions. Here for example is a series he 
 once gave, with a perfectly serene gravity; 6, 7, 9, 10, 11, 14, 
 17, 9, 7, 11, 14, 17, 32, 35, 9, 17, 11, 14, 11, 17, 11,14, 20, 32, 33, 
 
 44, 20, 32, 20, 32, 35, 20, 24, 20, 24, 25, 12 What repetition, 
 
 what perpetual beginning over again done with complete uncon- 
 sciousness! Notice also that certain numbers are repeated very 
 much oftener than others. 
 
 He cannot make the simplest additions. 
 
 Q. 2 and 1, how many does that make? 
 
 A. 2. 
 
 Q. 5 sous and 1 sou, how many does that make? 
 
 A. 1 sou. 
 
 Not only are the errors so great as to be absurd but when one 
 is that ignorant it is absurd to make any reply. This is what we 
 have called " no-matter- what-ism" (n'importequisme). 
 
 This tendency shows itself also when pieces of money are given 
 to him to name; there is only one with which he is entirely familiar 
 and in naming which he never makes a mistake; it is the ten sous 
 piece. " That" he says with energy, "to buy a package of tobacco, 
 ten sous." When his sister comes to see him on Sundays she 
 brings him regularly a ten-sou piece to buy his tobacco. These 
 are things that stamp themselves indelibly upon his memory. 
 The other pieces receive the most diverse names, and the names 
 vary from one moment to another; a 1-franc piece is generally 
 called 20 sous; a 2-franc piece is also called 20 sous; a 5-franc 
 piece is called 1 franc, or 2 francs or 3 francs. A 20-franc piece 
 is called 1 franc or 3 francs; and even the modest sou is called 
 sometimes 1 sou, sometimes 2 sous. It is therefore difficult to 
 determine the exact knowledge of Victor, because he by no means 
 has an exact knowledge. He has a vague knowledge which is 
 rendered fantastical by his tendency to say the first word that 
 comes to his mind; it is not absolutely the first word for it is the 
 name of some piece of money; but whether that name is correct 
 or not truly makes very little difference to him. 
 
 To count is for him equally impossible. He seems not to have 
 the least notion of numbers although he can recite their names 
 fairly well; but to recite them while applying them to objects is 
 a very much more difficult operation. We beg him to count his 
 fingers; he touches only four and recites 2, 3, 5, 7. He therefore 
 
204 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 believes he has 7 fingers. We ask him, "How many ears have 
 you?" he raphes "two, there and there" (at the same time touch- 
 ing them). We rise to make a ridiculous demonstration and we 
 say, "No, you have three!" But the suggestibiHty is so great 
 that we have no need of demonstration, and he replies at once, 
 "Three." 
 
 We ask h'm for 12 pins. He takes a handful out of the box and 
 gives them to us. Another request, " Give me 3 pins." He again 
 picks up what he can hold between his thumb and forefinger, and 
 believes he has fully satisfied our request. It is evident that the 
 numbers 3 and 12 do not in the least disquiet him. We spread 5 
 pins before him and ask: 
 
 Q. How many pins are there? 
 
 A. 4. 
 
 Q. But no, count them. 
 
 A. 2. 
 
 Q. Begin again, count them. 
 
 A. 3. 
 
 In fact he puts his finger at random upon the pins and does not 
 count them. We now have 3 single sous and 2 double, spread 
 out on the table. 
 
 Q. Do you know how to count? 
 
 A. A little, not much. 
 
 Q. How many sous are there on the table? 
 
 A. (without counting) 3 sous. 
 
 Q. No, count them. 
 
 He does so, counting the double sous as single sous; further- 
 more in one case, he puts his finger between two pieces and 
 counts only one sou. 
 
 A. Four sous. 
 
 We must add that no matter what problem we give him he 
 always has a reply. 
 
 Q. From 19 apples we take away 6 apples; how many are left? 
 A. 7. 
 
 At another time he would say 9 or any other number. It is a 
 very curious mental state. On being analyzed, it reveals itself as 
 something very complex. In the first place Victor has learned a 
 
EVOLUTION OP LANGUAGE 205 
 
 certain number of things. He knows a series of figures and can 
 recite them, though there are of course many errors in the series. 
 What pains have been taken to teach them to him! What an 
 amount of lost time! The reader can judge for himself. Oh, the 
 beauty of teaching done at random! 
 
 The names of colors are as badly learned as those of pieces of 
 money; light green is called white; dark red, blue or yellow; dark 
 blue, black; green, red or chocolate; pink, white; brown, white; 
 yellow, yellow. Scarcely any denomination is correct. We are 
 certain that if we had tried again we should have received an 
 entirely different series of names. 
 
 Here is how he names some of the cards. He says that he has 
 played cards with his sister; it is difficult to believe. 
 
 Cards shown Replies 
 
 King of Spades Spades Hearts a club 
 
 Ace of Spades The diamond 
 
 Queen of hearts Queen 
 
 Ten of diamonds A heart 
 
 Seven of Spades Spades 
 
 Queen of Clubs A Queen 
 
 Invited to sort the cards according to design and color, he slowly 
 succeeds in grouping together the cards of the same color; it is 
 even necessary to encourage him, because left to himself he loses 
 all idea of direction. It takes him 2 minutes, whereas a normal 
 person does the same work, the sorting of 32 cards, with fewer 
 errors in 35 seconds. 
 
 After all these failures it is very probable that Victor knows 
 neither how to read nor to write. Since he does not even attain 
 to the intelligence of a high grade imbecile, it cannot be expected 
 that he could do w^hat pertains to the level of a moron. We 
 should not persist, for this would be very useless, if this question 
 of reading and writing were not the occasion of some instructive 
 remarks. We ask him, 
 
 Q. Do you know how to read? 
 A. Not much. 
 
 We hand him a newspaper begging him to read something. He 
 accepts it, takes on a serious expression, and following the text 
 with his finger, recites letters which have no connection with the 
 printed characters. It is not even spelhng. He only recites 
 
206 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 what he remembers of the alphabet, a, b, d, v, r, p, c, q, r, etc. 
 So he does not know how to read. This is enough to estabUsh 
 the diagnosis of Victor. 
 
 Let us make a resume of our tests. Victor is defective in intelh- 
 gence; this is the incontestable result of our examination. Let us 
 now be more precise. He is not an idiot, since he understands 
 verbal orders. He is not a moron, since he can neither read nor 
 write. He is an imbecile. Since he is capable of naming certain 
 objects, of comparing two lines and two weights, he is an imbecile 
 of the middle grade; on the other hand, not being able to name 
 the colors, nor the pieces of money, nor to execute three com- 
 missions given him simultaneoulsy he cannot belong to the highest 
 grade of imbecility; he stops at the middle grade. 
 
 It remains now, after these preliminaries, to study his language. 
 
 The verbal data upon which we are going to work are notes 
 taken at the very moment that he spoke; in these notes we have 
 expressed verbatim what we believed he said, without changing 
 anything ; in the rare cases when we did not understand one of the 
 sentences we have passed it by in silence. 
 
 The process by which one gathers the words of an individual 
 should be noted in a linguistic study, because it exercises a certain 
 influence upon the language of the person studied. The best 
 process would be without doubt to remain listener, and to write 
 the words as they are spontaneously spoken. But the imbecile 
 is one of those who have no story to tell, and who willingly 
 remain silent. Generally Victor asks no questions, nor does he 
 take the initiative in a conversation. To induce him to talk one 
 must question him; this is what we did. We have therefore 
 studied only the language of his replies; and this language is 
 always more or less influenced by our questions; the idea always 
 and very often the words, even the grammatical forms, were the 
 result of our suggestion. These conditions understood, we pre- 
 sent our observations upon Victor. 
 
 According to a plan which was suggested to us by M. Meillet, 
 professor at the College de France, an individual linguistic study 
 should contain vocabulary, phonetics, and grammar. We set 
 aside phonetics because Victor presents nothing peculiar in the 
 articulation of his words; his articulation is normal, as is also 
 the rapidity of his speech. It remains therefore simply to study 
 his vocabulary and grammar. 
 
EVOLXJTION OF LANGUAGE 207 
 
 As to vocabulary, we shall not dwell at length upon this as it 
 presents nothing that is especially interesting. Victor employs 
 current concrete words, and practically no abstract words. He 
 does not misform them like a child or an aphasic ; he does not say 
 "dada" for a horse, nor repeat a syllable to form words of an 
 infantile language. He does not use to excess words like "thing" 
 (machin), he uses no circumlocution, and does not make him- 
 self conspicuous by the impropriety of terms, that is to say by 
 a development of language that is out of keeping with his intel- 
 lectual level. We have rather the impression that his vocabulary 
 is extensive; in a catalog of hardware he names correctly a host of 
 household utensils. We are of the opinion — though this is only 
 a hypothesis — that his vocabulary is superior to his grammar. 
 We understand by this, that if his vocabulary represents the 
 linguistic development of a child of a certain number of years, 
 his grammar would correspond to that of a younger child. Note 
 also that he invents no neologisms. 
 
 His grammar is more interesting because it bears more strongly 
 the mark of his intellectual deficiency. In the first place let us 
 note that he speaks little; his sentences are short, he willingly 
 abridges or suppresses many words, as though the spoken lan- 
 guage were repugnant to him. More often to very many ques- 
 tions he contents himself by replying, "Yes, sir," "No, sir;" his 
 favorite reply is the very prudent expression, "Not much" (pas 
 beaucoup). It has even seemed to us that Victor has less rehsh 
 for speech than he has verbal capacity, and that often he could 
 speak at greater length than he does; because, called upon to 
 express the same idea under different circumstances, he expresses 
 it sometimes in two words, sometimes in a more extended sen- 
 tence where the same two words appear with other words. 
 
 We shall study this more in detail. 
 
 Length and nature of the sentences. His sentences are always 
 short, as we have said. They have 3 words, or 5 or at times 7, 
 The maximum that we have observed is 9 words in the following 
 sentence, "The school master keeps you in" (Le mattre d'^cole il 
 vous fout en retenue). The proposition is simple, there are no 
 subordinate clauses. In order to explain a comphcated action 
 which he has seen performed before him, Victor proceeds by little 
 sentences; he will say, for example, "He took some pins — and 
 then he has " Even when he reproduces something told him, 
 
208 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 he returns to his system of Uttle propositions, detached one from 
 the other, or simply attached by "and then." One day we told 
 him the story of a little girl who, during the absence of her mother, 
 let her racquet fall in the well and was drowned in attempting 
 to regain her plaything. He reproduced the story in the fol- 
 lowing manner, "The woman is away to do errands the 
 
 girl played with her racquet the racquet fell in the well the 
 
 little girl also goes to get it." 
 
 Persons. He employs all the persons of the verb, and also all 
 the personal pronouns. Speaking of himself he says, I. For 
 example, one is interesting him in drawing and asks him to draw 
 a dog; he replies, "/ don't know how to draw dogs." He says 
 thou. Speaking to one of us, who had just been tormenting him 
 by all sorts of tests, he assumed this familiar manner in addressing 
 us, " Toi, tu es ficelle." He says he or she; speaking of his sister, he 
 says, "She washes, she darns," but more willingly, "a darns the 
 socks;" sometimes even there is entire suppression of the pronoun, 
 "does errands, sews on the machine," for ''she does errands" etc. 
 You figures in this sentence. "You want to make me angry" 
 (Vous voulez me monter le cou). Often he uses the pronoun one, 
 which belongs to the Parisian idiom, for example, "One is bored" 
 {on s'ennuie). Lastly he has a tendency to leave the pronoun 
 I understood and even the auxiliary; notice the following sen- 
 tence. We ask him, "What have you done this morning?" A. 
 Brought the soup. Q. And then afterwards what else have you 
 done? A. Been to get bread. He suppresses in these cases, I 
 have brought, I have been, etc. Also here, boasting of his skill in 
 bottling wine, he says, "Never broken any bottles, I, monsieur;" 
 instead of "7 have never," etc. 
 
 Tenses. The verb is used in either the present or the past ; we 
 find some examples of the perfect. Thus having perceived one 
 of us pretending to take pins out of the bowl on the sly, Victor 
 denounces him by saying, "He has taken some pins." Another 
 time, reproducing a story he said, "The coachman has crushed a 
 man." We could even cite some examples of the imperfect of 
 the indicative, but only in cases where it had been suggested by 
 a question in the imperfect. Q. What did your sister do? A. 
 She worked. We have never encountered the future. The only 
 way in which he ever speaks of an event in the future is by putting 
 it in the present, "My sister comes tomorrow, Sunday." 
 
EVOLUTION OF LANGUAGE 209 
 
 Articles. Definite and indefinite articles are employed cor- 
 rectly; only he often leaves them understood, "Policeman has 
 arrested a man," for "the policeman, etc." 
 
 Agreement. The agreement of a noun with its adjective is 
 made correctly. "He is nice, my chief" {II est gentil, mon chef). 
 
 To be definite, we do not find it necessary in Victor's case to 
 make any special remark upon vocabulary or phonetics. The only 
 pecuUarity worthy of note concerns the assemblage of words. 
 There is nothing incorrect in that assemblage, but it tends toward 
 conciseness and simplicity by the reduction of the words in a 
 sentence and by the frequent suppression of words, usually those 
 that commence the sentence, and lastly by never employing 
 subordinate propositions, which is a characteristic to be noted; 
 and this seems to prove that it is more difficult to form these 
 propositions mentally, than to conjugate the verbs or to correctly 
 employ the articles and pronouns or to make the adjectives agree 
 with the substantives. 
 
 Briefly, the characteristic feature of this syntax seems to us 
 to be atrophy. It is in harmony with the mental state of this 
 imbecile, which is especially a state of poverty.^ 
 
 ^ There is a point which we have not treated in the text, from lack 
 of sufficient data; it is in relation to a very interesting question about 
 which we have only our suspicions. It has been seen that we can give to 
 each defective the age of a normal child, for example we can say of a cer- 
 tain imbecile of thirty that he has the development of a child of five. This 
 comparison is never altogether correct in that which concerns language. 
 The defective appears to us to have a language development superior to 
 the normal. Here is a curious proof. One of us charged one of our pupils, 
 Mile. Hoffman, to study the association of ideas with school children. 
 It turned out that children of seven years scarcely found as words to 
 associate any but those of the same sound, of the type of these ; the word 
 given is chateau (hat) the child repeats chapeau or says peau (skin) or chat 
 
 (cat), etc On the contrary, middle grade imbeciles of the 
 
 type of Victor, who is certainly not at the level of seven years, can find 
 associations of other words, by relation of significance; to chapeau they 
 reply for instance by the word tSte (head). It is evident that from the 
 point of view of verbal ideation, this is a higher level. We note this fact 
 in passing, counting upon returning to it later after having studied it more 
 deeply. 
 
X. THE RELATION BETWEEN THOUGHT AND 
 LANGUAGE 
 
 There is no problem more discussed than this. It is only 
 candidates for the bachelor's degree who are able to discuss the 
 matter with ease. Those who have reflected a little are not slow 
 in finding that the problem is very complex. But there is some 
 chance of solving it, if, instead of taking it in its entirety, we 
 divide it into parts. 
 
 Experiments upon the mechanism of thought, undertaken and 
 published by one of us five or six years ago^ ° which have been taken 
 up and developed of late years in Germany, especially by Kulpe 
 and his pupils," have shown, as a first point, the necessity of mak- 
 ing a distinction between the thought and the image; to think can 
 not be reduced simply to recalling an image, because one must also 
 comprehend the image, that is to say one must realize what it 
 is meant to represent as though it were a picture. The proof 
 of this is to be found in experimental facts which are particularly 
 striking. When with minute care one questions a person upon 
 what he has just thought and upon what he has just imaged, 
 one notices that from his description there is a disagreement, 
 almost a contradiction, between the thought and the image; it 
 happens, in fact, that one thinks one thing and represents to one- 
 self another. More often, and one might even say always, the 
 thought is richer than the images; one pictures to oneself a part 
 while one thinks the whole. Example: one has the idea of an 
 excursion planned for the morrow, but one does not represent to 
 oneself either the excursion or "tomorrow;" one visualizes only 
 the surroundings, for instance the mountainous district that one 
 is going to visit. William James held these ideas; but he held 
 them theoretically; the best deduced of these reasonings, and 
 even his too theoretic examples, have not the eloquence of the 
 
 '" See I'Stude expSrimentale de V intelligence, by Binet, Paris, Schleicher 
 Bros. 
 
 1' See Revue gen&rale sur I' intelligence, by Larguier des Bancels, I'Ann^e 
 psychologique, XIII, p. 476. 
 
 210 
 
THOUGHT AND LANGUAGE 211 
 
 introspections gathered from persons who have no theory and 
 who do not reason. It results from all this, that the thought and 
 the image are two and that there can exist a thought without an 
 image. 
 
 In what then does thought consist? If it is something other 
 than the total of our representations, of what elements is it com- 
 posed? Certain critics of our earlier work have objected to the 
 idea that a thought can exist without sensorial elements; they 
 have suggested that what is lacking in the image, which is always 
 individual, narrow and paltry, to enable it to keep pace with the 
 unfolding of the thought, can be supplied by the word. The 
 thought would thus be at the same time image and inner language, 
 a combination of both, and what is not image would be speech, and 
 what is not speech would be image. Let us remark before going 
 farther that this explanation is not entirely satisfactory because 
 one can object at once that language is but a substitute and has 
 only the value of a symbol, a factitious value. A word in reality 
 signifies nothing in itself, it is less expressive than an image, it is 
 only an inert brute element, like the noise of the wind or the 
 sound of a hammer, and consequently has more need than the 
 image of being completed by some other thing which represents 
 its signification. On the whole the debate comes back to this; 
 to make it clear let us represent a thought by pieces of money; 
 the thought corresponds, let us say, to 100 francs. But the image 
 is not worth 100 francs, it is worth only 20 or 30 sous; but the 
 word is not money at all, it is only a substitute for money; the 
 word is like commercial paper, a bank note, which is the sign of a 
 gold reserve. But where is this reserve? In what does it consist? 
 
 If we attack this problem by the way of experimentation, this 
 is exactly the question to which it is necessary to reply; like the 
 image the word corresponds only to a fragment of the thought; 
 to translate the thought in its entirety into words would require 
 a long discourse. Thus one asks a person if she has read a cer- 
 tain book, and she rephes, '^No." This negation, to which she 
 limits herself, does not correspond to her complex thought, because 
 that no is a general negation, consequently very vague; while the 
 person makes a negation of an extraordinary precision, specialized 
 to a certain question and regarding a certain book. Thus, evi- 
 dently, the thought surpasses the word. Let us suppose if the 
 thought surpasses the word spoken, it is possible that it does not 
 
212 THE INTELLIGENCE OP THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 surpass the word thought ; it is possible that our interlocutor limits 
 herself to pronouncing this little word no, but has an inner lan- 
 guage very much richer. One can imagine that she pronounced 
 mentally or heard mentally the entire sentence, "No, I have not 
 read the book about which you speak;" and if this supposition 
 seems too opposed to the personal feeling which we have of not 
 making such a use of the inner language when the thing is not 
 worth the trouble, one would still say that the above sentence 
 was repeated in a shortened form, murmured, whispered, or in a 
 word that it might have been in our consciousness like a large 
 panorama which one takes in with a glance of the eye rapid as 
 the lightning. Is this supposition correct? 
 
 This is a difficult question to answer when we take for subjects 
 those whose inner language is already well developed. These 
 persons may protest as much as they like, affirm that they do not 
 represent to themselves in any possible manner entire sentences 
 which would be necessary for an adequate expression of their 
 thought, but the fact still remains doubtful ; because being capable 
 of this verbal development one may suppose that they are not 
 conscious of it, that they have performed the operation uncon- 
 sciously. All this doubt is cleared away by the examination of 
 imbeciles and also of aphasics. 
 
 We have already recounted that Denise one day had a ring on 
 her finger, which she turned and re-turned with satisfaction. 
 We asked her, "Who gave you that pretty ring?" Without 
 hesitation she replied, "Mama." Let us weigh this word. Let 
 us note that in order for the thought contained in this reply to 
 be completely developed in language, it would be necessary that 
 Denise had replied to us or had simply thought to herself the fol- 
 lowing sentence, "It was mama who gave me this ring." But 
 she cannot articulate even mentally this sentence, which is very 
 evident, since her vocabulary is reduced to five or six words and 
 her mental level does not permit her to make sentences. We 
 are therefore very certain that, in this case, her thought has no 
 corresponding series of necessary words; it is indeed a thought 
 without sufficient words and consequently there is in her a thought 
 without words. 
 
 We find analogous examples furnished by aphasics. The watch- 
 maker, observations of whom we have previously reported, when 
 we suggest to him a complicated act like counting aloud 20 sous 
 
THOUGHT AND LANGUAGE 213 
 
 in 1-sou pieces, remains a moment reflecting upon the money- 
 spread out before him upon the table and then says to us with 
 profound conviction, emphasizing each word, "Qa, nonl" ("That, 
 no") which signifies: "I feel myself incapable of doing what you 
 ask." This last sentence our aphasic evidently could not pro- 
 nounce, since his language also is reduced to a few words, and 
 since he can no longer construct sentences. But the argument 
 furnished by this observation is perhaps less convincing than that 
 which is furnished by our imbecile; one can always suppose than an 
 aphasic who has previously spoken has retained a better inner lan- 
 guage than his actual articulated language, and that what he does 
 not say with his phonetic organs he can say to himself mentally. 
 
 Let us therefore return to our imbecile; with her we are at least 
 certain that there exists no interior language sufficiently compli- 
 cated to give place to sentences. Let us cite a second observa- 
 tion of her. She is very modest, almost laughably so, and we 
 apologize for presuming upon it; but a psychologist has the right 
 to take his material wherever he finds it. Often during our 
 conference she has interrupted her bursts of laughter by taking 
 on a serious air and coming close to us to say under her breath, 
 "pipi!" which signified in a sentence, "I wish to pipi; conduct 
 me to the toilet or else let me go alone." But here we hold 
 the irrefutable proof, as we believe, that language is not coex- 
 tensive with thought. It is absolutely certain that Denise is not 
 able to conceive mentally of this sentence nor of any other 
 sentence as slightly complex as one can imagine but capable of 
 expressing the same thought. The proof which comes from this 
 observation is excellent, very much superior to that furnished by 
 the word "Mama." In replying this word Denise has heard 
 and understood the sentence by which we asked the question, 
 and if she is incapable of forming a sentence herself, one might 
 suppose as a last resource that she had retained our sentence 
 which she heard, and that it was the memory of this sentence 
 which constituted the verbal part of her thought. Here the objec- 
 tion can find no place, because Denise heard no sentence; she is 
 not replying, she said the word pipi spontaneously, which thus 
 finds itself in a place to solve one of the highest problems of the 
 psychology of thought. 
 
 Very many other analogous observations might be cited. Among 
 our low grade imbeciles there is a young man of twenty-five, with 
 
214 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 regular features, who also understands complex sentences but has 
 a vocabulary reduced to some ten words. One day when we 
 wished him to write, he refused to take the pen, and touching his 
 right hand with his left hand, repeated several times in a voice 
 expressive of pain the word, "Bad! Bad! Bad!" Evidently he 
 wished to say, as all his gestures of refusal and of suffering clearly 
 indicated, that his right hand hurt him and that it was this which 
 prevented him from taking the pen. This makes still another 
 case where one could not make a hypothesis of the existence of 
 inner language which would be richer than the word effectively 
 pronounced. 
 
 Still another objection. It will be said to us, 'SYour reasoning 
 contains an error; it consists in regarding turn by turn the image 
 and the word, apropos of different examples. You commence by 
 remarking, apropos of the image, it does not represent all the 
 thought. But it will be further said it remains possible that, if 
 words and image are insufficient taken separately, they suffice 
 when they are taken together, and the lack in the image is sup- 
 plied by the word and vice versa. It remains possible to continue 
 the objection that if Denise does not find in her inner language, 
 evidently very rudimentary, anything to think with, she manages 
 to think by images and nothing prevents us from supposing that 
 an imbecile visualizes very much more than a normal person. 
 
 Evidently this is possible; it is probable that we shall never 
 know to what point this is true because of the impossibility there 
 will always be of demanding introspection of an imbecile of the 
 grade of Denise. But our opinion is that images scarcely serve 
 to do more than to represent material objects, the things per- 
 ceptible to the senses; acts picture themselves imperfectly to the 
 eye of the mind ; still more is this true for the conditions, the pro- 
 jects, the relations of time and space, in a word, for all kinds of 
 associations. The " I wish to pipi" or the "I cannot write because 
 my finger is bad," cannot be expressed in images; they are thoughts 
 of relations which can only express themselves in words; and if 
 the words do not suffice, as in the present case, it is not the image 
 which supplements their absence.^^ 
 
 '2 Since we are here treating a question of general psychology, we seize 
 the opportunity to add that one of us (Binet), in experiments still unpub- 
 lished, has succeeded in creating among adults a state where the inner 
 language is suspended, and where the subject can still think, but rudi- 
 mentarily. This artificial state, difficult enough to obtain and especially 
 
THOUGHT AND LANGUAGE 215 
 
 All this comes back then to the conclusion that the thought is 
 distinct both from the image and from the word, that it is quite 
 another thing, that it constitutes a different element. But in what 
 do^s this element consist? We suppose that it has the nature of 
 feeling. This would be an intellectual feeling, consequently very 
 vague in its nature but one whose presence and especially whose 
 effects we perceive; and it is indeed by its effects that it is revealed 
 to us, because the thought is not at all a state; it is an action, not 
 a gesture; one sees the consequence of the gesture very much 
 more than the gesture itself. American psychologists have under- 
 stood this when they established their antithesis between the 
 psychology of structure and the psychology of function; the first 
 is especially descriptive, it recounts the state of that which is; 
 the second has especially the point of view of the action ; it places 
 the accent upon that which serves, upon that which is useful, 
 upon that which is accomplished. It is the confused and often 
 emotional perception of that which prepares and accomplishes 
 itself in us, which constitutes the thought. This vague sentiment 
 becomes more precise when it produces images, words and acts; 
 the representations, the inner language, and the acts, are the con- 
 scious forms of the thought; they are like the light, they render 
 the thought visible to us; they reveal to us the detail as the 
 touches of color placed upon the canvas reveal to us the gestures 
 of an artist whom we watch at work while standing behind him. 
 But they come only after the thought, they are its result; before 
 imagining the thought, before speaking it, it is comprehended, 
 it is performed. It is this feeling that dictates the words, and 
 suggests the images; and in their turn, images and words react 
 upon the feeling, amplify it, render it precise or modify it by a 
 reciprocal work where the cause becomes the effect, and the effect 
 becomes cause. 
 
 to prolong, is produced by a constant exercise of whistling or sustaining a 
 sound, or of continually repeating the same word. If, to a person who 
 conscientiously applies himself to this work of phonation, one puts a 
 question in abstract terms, which requires of him some reflection, judg- 
 ment, an act of approbation or of disapprobation, the person may arrive at 
 judging with exactitude and of having the sentiment of approval or dis- 
 approval, although no single word of the inner language is at his service. 
 Unfortunately these experiments cannot often be repeated, because after 
 several attempts the subject succeeds in adapting himself, and he returns 
 to his inner language, even while his mouth whistles or pronounces words; 
 it is especially in the initial period that the experiment is profitable. 
 
216 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 We think it very probable that this initial intellectual feeling, 
 which precedes images and words and from which the images and 
 words seem to come like a natural emanation, plays an important 
 role in the realization which we have of our thought. In a word 
 it gives us a foretaste of our thought, it permits us to perceive it 
 before it is defined. 
 
 It is probably for this reason that our thought seems to belong 
 to us, and that our images and our words are attributed to our 
 personality and not judged as elements that have come from 
 without, which would be strangers to us. There are very many 
 mental states in which our sensorial and verbal representations 
 are despoiled of this particular virtue of incorporating themselves 
 with our person; indeed in some idees fixes, some obsessions, the 
 subject feels himself taken possession of by something which is 
 other than himself; and it is probable that a good part of the 
 externalization of the hallucinations depend upon this character. 
 There is room here to investigate whether certain psychic states 
 in alienation could not be explained by a loss of this intellectual 
 feeling which prepares the representative phase of the thought.^' 
 
 In any case, we believe we have proved beyond doubt by our 
 precise observations that there is a thought without images, that 
 there is a thought without words, and that the thought is formed 
 by means of an intellectual feeling. These are facts altogether 
 simple, elementary, demonstrable, which will serve later as founda- 
 tions for new experiments and theories upon thought. 
 
 Alfred Binet and Th. Simon. 
 
 " It goes without saying that our thesis is contradictory to that of M. 
 Janet who has supposed that the attributing of one of our states to our per- 
 sonality is made by means of what he calls '^ a personal perception;" that is 
 to say, if we understand him rightly, a judgment of attribution which is 
 essentially intellectual in nature. Already a penetrating critic, M. Maigre, 
 had remarked that this personal perception is an operation of which we 
 have absolutely no consciousness; it is therefore an hypothesis which one 
 must present with a certain discretion and not as a fact of observation. 
 If not M. Janet, at least his pupils have too often spoken of the personal 
 perception as though it were a fact. We prefer to confide the same role to 
 another process, the intellectual feeling, whose existence at least is not 
 contestable after all the observations and experiments which we have 
 reported, and it seems to us more natural to suppose that this fundamental 
 r61e of incorporation of a state into the personality is held by a sentiment, 
 than to cause the intervention of an act of judgment. At least the 
 opinion of M. Janet will be interesting to have. 
 
PART III 
 
 Feeble-Mindedness and Dementia 
 
I. THE INTELLECTUAL WEAKENING IN GENERAL 
 PARALYSIS 
 
 1. Criticism of current definitions of dementia. Does 
 there exist a clear and precise conception of dementia? Certainly 
 not. The best definition given until very recently is the following : 
 dementia consists in a definite, progressive weakening of the intel- 
 lectual faculties following a state of normal intelligence. Let us note 
 that this definition contains two distinct elements, the one evolu- 
 tional, the other static. Let us take the evolutional character; 
 this is doubtless very important for diagnosis, since from the time 
 of Esquirol it has distinguished dementia from idiocy and similar 
 states ; but this is only a historical character, from which one could 
 not draw any idea of the real import of the dementia at the 
 moment of observation. The second element of the definition, 
 the intellectual weakening, is still more unsatisfactory because it 
 offers nothing that is really characteristic if we adhere to so 
 vague a formula. What is this intellectual weakening of which 
 we speak? In what does it consist? In what particular does it 
 differ from the state of the intellectual faculties found among so 
 many of the insane who are not dements? Intellectual weaken- 
 ing is almost the rule among the insane. Let us take melan- 
 cholies; it is a very commonplace observation that these patients 
 are less intelHgent and, as it were, weakened in intelKgence dur- 
 ing their affliction, as compared with their state when cured. 
 As to alcoholics, Kraepelin speaks repeatedly of their weakening 
 intellectually. Chronic delirium cases, according to some alienists, 
 present an attendant state of mental debility though this is per- 
 haps questionable. Let us set these cases aside along with cer- 
 tain degenerates; it seems that all other insane cases without ex- 
 ception have a weakened intelhgence. Certain ones are perhaps 
 so only temporarily, and constitute what was once called acute 
 curable dementia; but in any case, during the period of the 
 existence of the disease, this weakened condition is evident, often 
 demonstrable and even measurable. The distinctive criterion 
 
 219 
 
220 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 which one seeks in this succession of ideas has therefore not yet 
 been found. 
 
 If no clear conception of dementia exists in the writings of the 
 older alienists, may we not at least find it among moderns, who 
 for several years past have prided themselves on employing in 
 psychiatry the language of psychology? Not among them either. 
 For to say as some do, that paralytic dementia is a lack of mental 
 synthesis is to be satisfied with words in order to follow the fashion, 
 for this term mental synthesis is used to-day, rightly or wrongly, 
 apropos of everything, and consequently does not apply any more 
 exactly to dements than to other insane patients. To see in para- 
 lytic dementia an incoherence of the association of ideas, as Mas- 
 selon has lately proposed (see Intellectual Weakening, VAnnee 
 Psychologique, XIII, p. 260) is to attempt a psychological expla- 
 nation which, though more precise than the preceding, is only 
 the more criticisable, because the ideational phenomenon of in- 
 coherence is to be found among many other mental patients. 
 Since it is very much less accentuated among general paralytics 
 than among many maniacal, hallucinational, and confusional states, 
 it cannot therefore characterize dementia. The great, the serious 
 fault of these so called psychological definitions is that they are so 
 commonplace; far from being appHcable to dementia alone they 
 would answer equally well for nearly all forms of insanity. 
 
 Whence does it come then that, notwithstanding the inade- 
 quacy of this theory, practitioners have the merited reputation of 
 making an early diagnosis of general paralysis with the greatest 
 accuracy? It is, first, because they make use of signs, especially 
 of certain physical signs which ordinarily accompany dementia. 
 For instance, if an individual has a pupillary inequality, especially 
 if he has difficulty of speech, and if to this difficulty be added the 
 poorly defined symptom, intellectual weakening, then the diagnos- 
 tician hesitates no longer; it is paralytic dementia; the practitioner 
 leaves to the psychologist the delicate and unnecessary work of 
 analyzing the intellectual weakening of the dement. In addition to 
 the physical signs, and even when these are lacking, the practitioner 
 makes use of certain information furnished by the family concern- 
 ing the conduct of the patient; this information is characteristic; 
 it bears upon facts which are stamped in advance as symptoms of 
 dementia. The neglect of his affairs, the lack of care and neatness. 
 
CRITICISM OF DEFINITIONS OF DEMENTIA 221 
 
 forgetting his address, the impossibihty of performing a com- 
 plicated errand, errors in making change, heedless extravagance, 
 are the facts which the practitioner recalls under the form of 
 striking incidents ; if he finds these or other similar incidents in the 
 life of his patient he hesitates no longer, nor does he further scru- 
 tinize the mentality of the patient. More than this, persons of the 
 highest authority who have written upon the intellectual symp- 
 toms of paralytic dementia have done no more than recall such a 
 series of incidents while summarily classifying them under the 
 heads of disorders of memory, of attention, of will; they believe 
 they are writing psychology and characterizing a mental state. 
 
 It is true that this empiricism usually suffices for the needs of 
 medical practice. But it does not always suffice. We recall that 
 once we were asked to diagnose the case of a woman some fifty 
 years of age who had the small head of an imbecile. Her clothing 
 was dirty and in disorder, she balanced herself on her chair and 
 had spasmodic mumbling. She gave slow, monosyllabic answers 
 to our questions and did not seem to understand the greater part 
 of them especially the difficult ones; she gave indeed the impres- 
 sion of a diminished intelligence, but was she an imbecile or a 
 paralytic? She had no pupillary inequality and spoke too little 
 to show derangement of speech. The first physician saw in her an 
 imbecile; as for us, allowing ourselves to be guided by one of those 
 almost indefinable impressions which are so frequent in mental 
 pathology, we inclined toward general paralysis. At this moment 
 we are well convinced that only by the study of the mentality 
 would it be possible to decide, and to recognize dementia one 
 must know what it is from the psychological point of view. 
 
 But the most serious objection that one can make against the 
 empiricism of practitioners is that if empiricism does suffice to 
 make with surety the greater part of the daily diagnosis it does 
 not go beyond diagnosis; this is practice but not science, that is 
 to say particular not general; and, moreover, practice being thus 
 separated from theory remains local, partial, commonplace and 
 does not benefit by more extensive studies; this is very much to 
 be regretted because there is reason to suppose that the different 
 forms of insanity show relations and resemblances among them- 
 selves and the analysis of one would greatly illuminate the others. 
 
 It is under the influence of these ideas that we have undertaken 
 
222 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 our investigations. We have studied the two principal forms of 
 dementia, senile and paralytic, especially the latter, endeavoring to 
 find the psychological formula which applies to it and to it alone, 
 because this is the necessary condition of every demonstration. 
 How we went about it will be seen from what follows. It is un- 
 necessary to explain our method; the best way is to see it in ac- 
 tion. We have seen, examined and submitted to every sort of 
 experimentation some forty patients. It is man}'^, even too many; 
 we have accumulated so much material only because the idea which 
 was to come out of it and permit us to interpret it all was long in 
 making itself known and we have been able to see clearly only 
 after long groping in the dark. 
 
 We begin by the study of general paralysis, or paralytic 
 dementia.^ 
 
 2. The lowering of the intellectual level in paralytic 
 DEMENTIA. We are going to show that every dement has an in- 
 tellectual level below normal. This statement needs explanation 
 because it would seem that we are, as it were, breaking down a 
 door which is not locked, and it will be thought useless to demon- 
 strate what everybody knows; namely, that dementia carries 
 with it an intellectual weakening. But we lay aside this expres- 
 sion intellectual weakening, which is vague and equivocal and 
 which we shall reserve for criticism farther on. We wish to show 
 especially that if our measuring scale of intelhgence were used, 
 which is composed of a graded series of slight difficulties to be 
 overcome, of little problems to be solved, it would be easy to de- 
 termine the point in this series where the dement fails; and as 
 each point of the scale corresponds to a level of normal age es- 
 tablished as a result of experiments upon normal children, this 
 procedure permits the determination of the mental age of a gen- 
 eral paralytic, by saying for instance that he is at the level of 
 eight years or of five years. We have here a measure whose pre- 
 
 1 The present study is, in a certain measure, complete in itself; but, from 
 the point of view of the directing idea and of the method, it is closely con- 
 nected with our four preceding studies upon alienation the conclusions 
 of which it continues. See in L'Annee Psychologique, XIII, p. 163, 
 and following, our three articles on sub-normals; XIV, p. 1, our article 
 already cited upon the Development of the Intelligence among Children; 
 XIV, p. 284, the article upon Language and Thought; and finally in the 
 present volume, the article upon The Intelligence of Imbeciles. 
 
LOWERING OF THE INTELLECTUAL LEVEL 223 
 
 cision is interesting, and quite preferable to that commonplace 
 assertion that a certain patient is very weak mentally and that 
 another is not so weak. We have taken the level of intelligence 
 of a great number of dements and here is what we have noted. 
 
 Althought the method was organized for children and imbeciles 
 only, the great majority of dements lend themselves admirably to 
 it for two reasons. In the first place this is because of their con- 
 fiding, happy, optimistic character. They seat themselves quietly 
 and reply to our questions without asking the why or wherefore 
 of the examination even when we abruptly ask them such childish 
 questions, as, "How many fingers have you?" At times a slight 
 excitement or a touch of delirium troubles our examination, but 
 it amounts to very little. Only once one of our patients, a bach- 
 elor of some forty years, on hearing our first question replied 
 dryly, "Pardon, sir, I should like very much to know why you ask 
 me that." Let us recognize this as the reply of one who is annoyed 
 rather than of a paralytic. If our paralytic was capable of it, it 
 was only because he was at the beginning of his affhction and his 
 mental level was twelve years and consequently nearly normal. 
 This is truly a case where the exception proves the rule. 
 
 The mental dispositions which render the general paralytic 
 suited to an examination of intelligence are not the same as those 
 which act upon imbeciles and morons. In a previous study we 
 have described the attitude of docility and deference which very 
 many defectives show us; their deference is such that they seem to 
 obey the most absurd suggestions. General paralytics have a 
 different character; if they yield to an examination it is not through 
 deference. This social sentiment is no part of their psychology. 
 They are particularly satisfied with themselves, without se- 
 quence in their ideas, and with a foundation of indifference, and 
 this mental state renders then equally as manageable as imbeciles ; 
 let us add that irritability is encountered similarly in both. 
 
 Another reason why our general paralytics are excellent subjects 
 for experimentation is because their particular form of mental 
 trouble can readily be caught by the tests. What we here affirm 
 needs explanation. Let us attempt to give the tests to a patient 
 suffering from delusions of persecution. First he may resist, 
 grow angry, or refuse to speak. Let us suppose him to be tract- 
 able. In spite of this his mental state will not be discovered by 
 
224 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 our tests because, while his delusions prove an absence of judg- 
 ment, it is rare that our special tests upon judgment show that 
 faculty to be lacking in him. It would seem that his intelligence 
 is divided into two parts, the one sane and the other delirious; 
 it is only the sane part that the experimenter can put into action 
 by the tests. On the contrary, with the paralytic everything is 
 affected, the weakening is universal, and he shows himself as 
 much at fault for any question of our examination as for the 
 circumstances of his life. 
 
 Another remark. Our method permits of measuring the in- 
 tellectual level without taking account of accompanying cir- 
 cumstances which sometimes produce an illusion in regard to the 
 intelligence of a person. Thus, we have examined a patient whose 
 difficulties of articulation were so accentuated that we had much 
 trouble to understand him. To listen to him one would have 
 thought him of very low grade; on measuring his intelligence we 
 found that he had a level of nine years. Psychic and physical 
 troubles do not always go together although one is certainly in- 
 clined to that impression; do we not find emphasized in treatises 
 a form of paralysis in which physical troubles are particularly 
 marked? That which was evident only in very marked cases no 
 longer appears as an exception. 
 
 It might be objected that an extremely precise measurement of 
 the mental level of general paralytics is of little value except for 
 the moment it is made, since they are constantly on the road to 
 dissolution. Consequently this measurement has not the same 
 interest as in the case of an imbecile whose level is very much 
 more static. But there are a number of problems which remain 
 since the discovery of paralysis, which we have not been able to 
 solve through lack of method by which we can appreciate the 
 degree of dementia; for instance, is paralytic dementia progres- 
 sive or does it proceed by sudden drops? Would not the progno- 
 sis of its evolution be different if six months of the affliction 
 sufficed to reduce an average intelligence to a level of five years 
 while in another case two years of illness have not resulted in a 
 similar decay? Since Baillarger there has been much discussion 
 upon the degree of retrogression, upon its reality, whether it ex- 
 tends only to physical troubles and the phenomena of delirium, 
 leaving the other functions definitely injured, or if paralytic de- 
 
MEASURING THE MENTALITY OP A DEMENT 225 
 
 mentia, properly so-called, although attributed by the anatomo- 
 pathologists to the destruction of the fibers of Tuczek, is never- 
 theless itself subject to retrogression. The intellectual level of the 
 same patient carefully taken at different dates would quickly 
 enlighten us upon these points. 
 
 In conclusion we shall cite as an example the measurement of 
 the level of a woman reduced by dementia to the intelligence of a 
 child of five years. 
 
 Beauchamp is a woman of thirty, with delicate features and an 
 amiable, smiling expression. She was formerly a teacher. Her 
 husband who esteemed and admired her tells us that she had a 
 very cultivated mind and a taste for art and literature. Now at 
 the end of only six months of illness she shows a lamentable de- 
 gree of decay as we shall demonstrate. She talks willingly al- 
 though chiefly in monologue. Certain days she continually re- 
 peats the same story but her recital is so obscure, so incoherent, so 
 weak that we cannot understand it even after many repetitions. 
 She talks about a little child, very small, and we conjecture that 
 the mother of Beauchamp says to the child, *'0h, how dirty you 
 are!" Then the child seems to have thrown something violently 
 to the floor, ''That went poum!" The patient mimics the scene 
 with energy. Soon after she looks at us and shows us the palm 
 of her right hand where there is a little scar which moves her to 
 pity. She ends by explaining that the apothecary had been con- 
 sulted. And that is all. As soon as the story is ended the patient 
 begins again. We have not been able to discover whether that 
 little child was Beauchamp herself or not. 
 
 She lent herself willingly to the experiment as far as her intelli- 
 gence and power of attention permitted. In reality she could not 
 comprehend the simplest tests and the explanation which we gave 
 her served practically no purpose at all. Below we give our con- 
 versation with a table showing the tests passed. We call atten- 
 tion to the fact that the sign + indicates that the test has been 
 passably well executed while — is the sign of failure. 
 
226 
 
 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 Measuring Scale of Intelligence. Results Obtained with Beauchamp, 
 General Paralytic 
 
 TESTS 
 
 RE- 
 PLIES 
 
 TESTS 
 
 BE- 
 PLIES 
 
 3 years 
 
 Show nose, eyes, mouth 
 
 Enumerate a picture 
 
 Repeat 2 figures 
 
 + 
 
 + 
 
 + 
 + 
 
 + 
 + 
 
 + 
 + 
 
 6 years 
 Show right hand, left ear.... 
 Repeat sentence of 16 sylla- 
 bles 
 
 + 
 
 Repeat a sentence of 6 sylla- 
 bles 
 
 Make aesthetic comparison.. 
 
 Define by use 
 
 Do 3 errands 
 
 - 
 
 Give family name 
 
 _ 
 
 Tell age 
 
 . 
 
 4 years 
 
 Distinguish morning and 
 evening 
 
 
 Give sex 
 
 7 years 
 Distinguish lack in figures... 
 
 Give nvunber of fingers 
 
 Copy a written sentence 
 
 Copy a diamond 
 
 
 Name key, knife, sou 
 
 
 Repeat 3 figures 
 
 _ 
 
 Compare 2 lines 
 
 -1- 
 
 5 years 
 Compare 2 weights 
 
 
 Repeat five figures 
 
 
 Copy a square 
 
 Describe a picture 
 
 
 Repeat a sentence of 10 sylla- 
 bles 
 
 Count 13 single sous 
 
 Name 4 pieces of money 
 
 8 years 
 Reading with 2 memories . . 
 Count 3 single and 3 double 
 sous 
 
 - 
 
 Count 4 single sous 
 
 "Game of patience" with two 
 pieces 
 
 
 
 + 
 
 
 Name 4 colors 
 
 + 
 
 
 Count from 20 to 
 
 
 
 Compare two objects from 
 memory 
 
 
 
 Write from dictation 
 
 - 
 
 Q. Point to your nose. 
 
 A. It is in the water! (Incomprehensible sentence but she points 
 to her nose as she says it.) 
 
 Q. Point to your eyes. 
 
 A. Here they are! (She leaves her chair and comes close to us with 
 the intention of showing her eyes.) 
 
 Q. Where is your mouth? 
 
 A. There it is! (She opens her mouth and places her finger there.) 
 
 We see that the first test is passed and proceed to the second 
 
MEASURING THE MENTALITY OF A DEMENT 227 
 
 We place before the patient a picture representing an old man 
 and a child drawing a cart. 
 
 Q. Look at this. Do you see? Tell me what we have here? 
 
 A. Oh! I do not know. 
 
 Q. Look at it closely! — 
 
 ^. Oh! I don't know 1 do not know. (She seems ready to pout.) 
 
 Q. Oh yes? Tell us what you see? 
 
 A. I see nothing. 
 
 Q. Isn't there a picture? 
 
 A. No, Oh! it is a little old man and then the other (turning 
 
 herself towards us) and then you see 
 
 Q. And besides? 
 
 A. (Putting the picture aside and handing it back to us) I do not know 
 who it is. I do not know who it is. 
 
 Q. Well, this one? What do you see in this? (Showing her a picture 
 of two unfortunates upon a bench.) 
 
 A. Oh! It is an old man asleep. 
 
 Q. And besides? 
 
 A. That is all — and his wife is beside him. (She pushes the picture 
 away as though she did not wish to be bothered. ) Oh ! I do not know her. 
 
 Q. And this one? (We show her a picture that represents a prisoner 
 looking out of the window of his cell.) 
 
 A. Oh! I don't know 
 
 Q. But tell me! Look! What do you see? 
 
 A. Who is it? Oh! I don't know who it is. 
 
 Q. But what is he doing, this poor man? 
 
 A. Oh! I don't know. I don't know him. 
 
 As we insist she seems to be irritated, pushes the picture away and 
 pouts while replying "I don't know." 
 
 Q. Let's laugh a little. 
 
 She smiles. Her calm has returned and we can continue. 
 
 We consider that she has passed this second test because f6r 
 two of the pictures she has enumerated, "It is a little old man 
 and then the other." Once even she gave a bit of description, 
 "It is an old man asleep." But it must be remarked that it re- 
 quired great effort for her to adapt herself to the experiment; it 
 was necessary to insist before she could be induced to look at the 
 pictures; she even thought that we were asking her to recognize 
 the persons in the pictures, a very curious absurdity which a 
 normal child would never commit. 
 
 The third test is a repetition of figures. 
 
 Q. Listen now carefully. I am going to explain what we are going to 
 do. I am going to say some figures and then you will repeat them. Under- 
 
228 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 stand! I am going to say a figure then you say it after me. Listen (we 
 raise our voice) 4! 
 
 A. 4. 
 
 Q. 2, 9. 
 
 A. 2. Why should I do it? 
 
 Q. 6, 8. 
 
 A. 2, 4, 6, 8. 
 
 Q. 6, 1, 3. 
 
 A. No, I am not that old 1 am thirty years old. (She adds some 
 
 words which we could not catch. It is a confused murmuring.) 
 
 Q. 3, 2, 9. 
 
 A . (She repeats nothing. ) 
 
 Q. 0, 2, 8. 
 
 A. 8, 2, 0. See? 
 
 Q. 1, 3, 9. 
 
 A. 9, 8. 
 
 It is evident that when we give her a single figure she under- 
 stands that she must repeat it, but when we give her two or three 
 she ceases to understand or loses the directing idea of the experi- 
 ment after having had it for a moment. We note that once she 
 was able to repeat two figures but never three. 
 
 The following test consists in giving words and sentences to be 
 repeated. Our patient is going to act in this as in the other tests. 
 
 After a preliminary explanation we pronounce in a louder voice 
 the words to be repeated. 
 
 Q. Papa. 
 
 A. Yes, my papa. 
 
 Q. Shoe, hat. 
 
 A. Yes, my hat. And then 1 have a veil. 
 
 Q. (In a natural voice) But no, that is not it You must repeat 
 
 just what I say without adding any more. Now repeat what I say. (With 
 raised voice) Hat! Shoe! 
 
 A. Yes, my hat yes, it is blue it is blue with some etc. 
 
 The patient has not understood. To put her right we had re- 
 course to a proceeding which has often proved successful with 
 normal children; instead of explaining in abstract terms that one 
 must repeat we have her repeat some very simple words, then we 
 complicate them progressively; it is a sort of bait. 
 
 Q. Pampam! 
 A. Pampam! 
 Q. Papa! 
 A. Papa! 
 
MEASURING THE MENTALITY OF A DEMENT 229 
 
 Q. Mama! 
 
 A. Mama! 
 
 Q. Dodo! 
 
 A. Dodo! 
 
 Q. Shoes, hat. 
 
 A. Yes, my shoes with mama. 
 
 Q. It is cold! .1 am hungry! 
 
 A. Yes, from that moment (Prattle). 
 
 As it is a question here simply of recording a result we are 
 obliged to admit that our patient did not satisfy the requirements 
 of test four and that she does not repeat the sentence of six 
 syllables. Perhaps she might do so after training but this would 
 no longer be within the limits of the test. 
 
 Q. What is your name? 
 A. Margaret. 
 Q. And your other name? 
 A. Beauchamp. 
 
 This reply is completely satisfactory; it is true that this test 
 has a social character and that in life one has occasion to say his 
 name much oftener than to repeat one or two figures. Our scale 
 is adapted to little children and they are often puzzled to re- 
 member their family name; they find it easier to repeat two figures. 
 
 To sum up, our dement passes all the tests at three years except 
 one; she attains therefore the level of three years, following the 
 rule which we have established ;2 but there is in her manner of 
 answering the tests something which differentiates her from a 
 child. 
 
 Let us pass to the tests of four years. 
 
 Q. Are you a gentleman or a lady? 
 A. Indeed, I am a lady. 
 
 The question is unusual, almost impertinent, but it did not in the least 
 shock her. 
 
 Q. What is this? (Showing a key.) 
 
 A. It is my key. 
 
 Q. And this? What is this? (Showing a pen-knife.) 
 
 A. Very well, my little It is a little thing for me 
 
 0. What do you call this little thing? 
 A. A little knife. 
 
 2 See The Development of the Intelligence of Children, L'Annee Psy- 
 chologique, XIV, 1908. (Our Vol. 1, p. 182.) 
 
230 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 Q. And this? (Showing a sou.) 
 
 A. Ah! that is two sous for me. (Smile.) 
 
 We admit that this test has given satisfactory results. The at- 
 titude of the patient is nevertheless very peculiar; in the first 
 place she had difficulty in evoking the name of knife ; then she con- 
 stantly took an attitude of proprietor or rather of monopolist. 
 "It is my key, it is two sous for me." We have never encoun- 
 tered anything analogous among normal children. 
 
 Q. Here are two lines. Which is the longer? 
 
 A. Well — there! (She shows the longer without hesitation.) 
 
 All the tests of four years are passed except the repetition of 
 three figures. Let us see those of five years. 
 
 Q. Do you see these two boxes? (The boxes are placed before her on 
 the table.) Give me the heavier. 
 A. I do not know which is heavier. 
 Q. No, but find out and give it to me. 
 A. (Showing a box.) Well, that one? 
 Q. Give me the heavier? 
 
 A. Well, there is none also inside Well, both of them. 
 
 Q. (Both boxes are placed in her hands.) Give me the heavier one. 
 A. Here it is (she gives a box), and then this is the other (she gives the 
 other box). 
 The test is not passed; our dement did not understand the question. 
 
 Copying a square gives rise to many difficulties. A large square 
 was drawn before her on a sheet of paper and she was asked to 
 make one just like it. A pen was placed in her hands. She 
 seemed very willing and said, "Very well, yes, there!" but she had 
 not understood because under the square she slowly wrote her full 
 name. We were obliged to intervene with a new explanation; 
 then she began scribbling in the model; we stopped her and finally 
 obtained a reproduction of the square but quite lacking in pro- 
 portion. Nevertheless, the lack of skill in her hand which the 
 design betrays is far less than her lack of skill in comprehending. 
 If we compare her with a normal child of three or four years we 
 see at once the difference. The normal child may be far more 
 awkward in directing his hand and in drawing the figure, but on 
 the contrary he is far more intelligent in comprehending that 
 what is required of him is to copy it. Furthermore we find two 
 other curious examples of this difference. We attempt to make 
 
MEASURING THE MENTALITY OF A DEMENT 231 
 
 our patient copy a diamond and a written sentence. For the 
 diamond she writes below it a Kttle hne in zigzag, which shows 
 once more how httle she understands what is desired of her. 
 We make her a second model and urge her to copy it; instead of 
 copying it she embellishes the model with little scribbHngs in- 
 side or with little strokes about the outhne. There is the same 
 failure in copying a written sentence. We had written "The 
 Little" and we asked Beauchamp to copy these two words, which 
 should have been all the easier for her in that she can still write 
 a little; but here again she did not understand. Instead of copy- 
 ing she read the two words and understood their meaning; im- 
 mediately her mind was turned in a direction quite other than 
 we had wished. She said, "That is it, the little baby; there, see 
 the little dear." 
 
 Q. Write what you see there. 
 
 A. Well, it is very little, because it is four years old It is sweet, it 
 
 is darling. 
 
 Conformable to her ideation, the patient writes after the model, 
 "baby of four years;" the writing is tremulous but nevertheless 
 legible. This continuation of a commenced sentence seems to be 
 dictated by the obsessing memory to which we have already al- 
 luded of the little child who went poum! The analysis of these 
 three failures in the act of copying is interesting. A normal child 
 may fail in the operation of copying, but he understands that it is 
 a question of copying; this comprehension is so simple that gener- 
 ally when one explains the tests, it is understood; on the con- 
 trary our patient can copy very well since she still knows how 
 to write a little, but she cannot comprehend what is asked of her. 
 
 Four single sous are spread before her on the table. When we 
 ask her to count them, she does so rapidly and declares that there 
 are four sous. How did she understand that so easily? We think 
 it is because counting sous is a social usage like giving one's 
 name, while repeating and copying are operations which have no 
 social usage and which one does not frequently perform in life; 
 thus our patient understands very well when asked to count, 
 while she does not understand when asked to copy. Apropos of 
 the act of counting we shall give two other examples which are 
 very interesting. We wish to discover whether our dement can 
 count 13 single sous; she counts rapidly, but arrives at the number 
 
232 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 12; this is not a bad error. The following is better. We give her 
 3 double sous and 3 single sous and without difficulty she an- 
 nounces that that makes 9 sous. Note carefully that this test 
 belongs to eight years. If our dement succeeds in this it is, 
 first, because counting is a usual act; and, second, it is because 
 she profits by previous instruction. 
 
 To finish these tests of five years let us say that our patient does 
 not reconstruct the figure in the "game of patience;" she ends by 
 uniting the pieces at random. 
 
 She was able to accomplish some of the tests of six years; she 
 showed the first time her right hand and left ear and she gave her 
 age. But she failed almost constantly in the other tests; most 
 of the time it was because she failed to comprehend what was 
 desired of her. The ordinary explanation did not penetrate her 
 intelligence. In support of this we cite a beautiful example. It 
 is a question of definitions. Nothing seems more simple than to 
 reply to the following questions, ''What is a fork, a table, a chair, 
 etc.," when one knows these objects. But Beauchamp was never 
 able to grasp the idea of a definition. Let the reader judge. 
 
 Q. What is a fork? 
 
 A. Oh! I had one. I had beautiful ones. 
 
 Q. Yes, without doubt, but what is a fork? 
 
 A. I had beautiful ones. 
 
 Q. But what is a fork? 
 
 A. Well, it is like that. They are very beautiful. 
 
 Q. But explain to me. What is a fork? 
 
 A. I had one that was beautiful 1 have two of them. 
 
 Q. And a table? What is a table? 
 
 A. Oh! I have a beautiful table. 
 
 Q. A table, what is that? 
 
 A. I have a beautiful table. 
 
 Q. And a chair, what is a chair? 
 
 A. Oh! I have a beautiful chair. 
 
 Q. But what is it? 
 
 A. Oh! they are pretty 1 have large chairs yea, they are pretty, 
 
 very large. 
 
 Q. And a horse? What is that? 
 
 A. (Quickly) Oh 1 have none oh! I have none, certainly not a 
 
 horse. 
 
 Q. But what is it? 
 
 A. Ah! there are plenty, everywhere. 
 
 Q. But what is a horse? 
 
 A. A horse? Ah! I do not know where it is. 
 
MEASURING THE MENTALITY OF A DEMENT 233 
 
 Q. And a mama? 
 
 A. My mama 
 
 Q. What is a mama? 
 
 A. Well, I do not know. 
 
 Q. Yes, but what is it, what is a mama? 
 
 A. Oh well, I have one at home, she is sixty-two years old, mama. 
 
 Q. And in two years, how old will she be? 
 
 A. Well, the poor mother, she will go away. 
 
 Thus in spite of persistent effort, we cannot make ourselves 
 understood, notwithstanding that this patient knows very well a 
 fork, a table, etc., and we believe could define them if she only 
 understood that we are asking for a definition. 
 
 By applying the rules which we have adopted we fix the intellec- 
 tual level of Beauchanp at five years; we mean by this not that 
 she has exactly the mental state of a child of five years, because 
 we have seen how much of a difference separates her from a nor- 
 mal child of five; but rather that she fails for one reason or another 
 before the same difficulties as a normal child of five years. In 
 establishing this level we do not take into account the ways and 
 means but simply the results. 
 
II. THE MINOR PSYCHOLOGICAL SIGNS OF GENERAL 
 
 PARALYSIS 
 
 L A DIRECTING HYPOTHESIS. One who relied solely upon the 
 results of our measuring scale would not be able to grasp the 
 mental differences which differentiate an imbecile from a general 
 paralytic. Shall we conclude that these subjects have the same 
 mentality? Evidently not. We must put our readers on their 
 guard against this erroneous interpretation of the bearing of our 
 measurements. The scale which we use is made up of a series of 
 small, intellectual problems, and it is quite possible that two in- 
 dividuals may fail in the same problems without for that reason 
 having similar mentalities; the practical consequence is that the 
 efficacy of their mentality is the same; but the mentalities may be 
 different. 
 
 Our scale resembles very much a measuring rod which, instead 
 of measuring the height, measures the intelligence; but just as an 
 ordinary measuring rod gives no information regarding the nor- 
 mality of the physical development and may indicate the same 
 number of centimeters for a normal child and for an adult hunch- 
 back, so our scale of intelligence gives the actual level of intelli- 
 gence without analyzing it and without informing us as to the 
 type of mentality. 
 
 The problem which we set for ourselves is therefore still un- 
 touched. Thus far we have not succeeded in discovering how the 
 state of dementia differs psychologically from the state of im- 
 becility. Let us try to go farther. 
 
 A commonplace idea shall serve us as an entering wedge. 
 
 "The dement," it has often been said, "is a rich person who has 
 
 wasted his fortune, while an imbecile is one born poor and who 
 
 remains poor all his life." If we examine this idea closely we see 
 
 at once by a simple statement of the facts that these two types of 
 
 individuals are in an entirely different psychological condition. 
 
 That which is lacking in the imbecile is a certain development of 
 
 the thought; his thought has not evolved; and all that we know, 
 
 234 
 
TWO HYPOTHESES 235 
 
 all that we have previously learned of the precise nature of the 
 evolution of the thought, serves to make us understand the con- 
 dition in which it is found. Let us add that within the limits 
 where his thought has evolved he acts regularly if not normally. 
 On the contrary the general paralytic presents to us a thought 
 which has previously evolved and which had even reached the ex- 
 treme limits of its evolution. This thought had then up to a 
 certain moment been complete, but now it is attacked by a 
 particular modification which has made it decrease. 
 
 In exactly what does this decrease consist? It is at this point 
 that our hypotheses commence. We beheve that we have the 
 choice between at least two explanations. According to the first, 
 there would be produced in the paralytic a phenomenon the in- 
 verse of evolution. His intelligence would be like a train that 
 reversed its engine and ran back over the same line in the oppo- 
 site direction from the preceding trip. The general paralytic 
 would thus find himself realizing successively by a sort of tumbling 
 down the mental state corresponding to ten years, then nine 
 years, eight years, seven years and so forth. This hypothesis of 
 retrogression has for its one great merit that of clarity; but this is 
 probably all that can be said for it, because when one looks closely 
 at a general paralytic one sees clearly that his mental state does 
 not resemble that of an imbecile, still less that of a child. Thus 
 Beauchamp, whom we have already somewhat analysed and whom 
 we placed at the level of a child of five years, knows better how to 
 read, to write and to count money than a child of five years; and 
 on the other hand she has some more serious lacks of compre- 
 hension than is encountered even among such young children. 
 There are here a host of slight signs which make us decide to 
 abandon the hypothesis of retrogression; and we boldly ch:ose 
 another which we are going to explain. 
 
 We admit provisionally that our patients remain virtually in 
 possession of all their intelligence but that they have difficulty in 
 making use of it; the injury would affect the functioning; there 
 would be embarrassment, difficulty, slowness and often even im- 
 possibility of exercising the existing functions, of applying ac- 
 quired knowledge, in a word of making the machine work. Even 
 leaving our hypothesis in this very vague form we can already 
 predict what its character will be; this difficulty of functioning pre- 
 sents in reality an essentially pathological stamp, and conse- 
 
236 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 quently it would only be by chance, by a wholly exterior resem- 
 blance, that the paralytic could be compared to an imbecile and 
 especially to a child. Therefore, while the hypothesis of retro- 
 gression would lead to the conclusion, certainly unacceptable to 
 any one who has associated with general paralytics, that these 
 subjects have the mentality of children, the hypothesis of the 
 failure of functioning prevents any comparison of this nature; it 
 allows us indeed to foresee that children, imbeciles and paralytics 
 are alike in their inability to solve the same problems; they are 
 stopped by the same obstacles so that we can attribute to them 
 the same mental level; but the identity of the results in no way 
 implies the identity of mechanisms; the mentalities remain 
 distinct. 
 
 Let us try to give a precise meaning to the words difficulty of 
 functioning. They are still vague, general, and we prefer to con- 
 sider a single one of the phenomena in which this difficulty mani- 
 fests itself. This phenomenon is of paramount importance and 
 seems to give us the key to the problem. It is the evocation 
 of the states of consciousness. We suppose, to state it briefly, 
 that paralytics have especially a weakness of evocation. 
 
 2. Analysis of some observed results. We are now about 
 to study successively the following phenomena, in which the 
 aforesaid weakness of evocation manifests itself, and which there- 
 fore constitute from the practical point of view what we shall call 
 the minor psychological signs of general paralysis. 
 
 Failure and slowness in the recall of certain memories. 
 
 Errors in naming colors. 
 
 Difficulty in the flow of words. 
 
 Lapsus calami. 
 
 Arithmetical errors. 
 
 Disorder. 
 
 Incomplete perceptions. 
 
 Illusions. 
 
 Inertia of comprehension. 
 
 Incongruous replies. 
 
 Grejfage.^ 
 
 These are only brief and precise laboratory notes. But they 
 represent the results of tests and observations which we have 
 
 ' For definition of this term see p. 254. 
 
PSYCHOLOGY OF GENERAL PARALYSIS 237 
 
 ourselves made and which others will be able to repeat, verify and 
 complete. We must of necessity commence by an understanding 
 of the precise facts. Let us analyse each one a little. 
 
 Failures and slowness in the recall of certain mem- 
 ories. It is known that many of these patients cannot give their 
 address, the number of their street, or the names of their friends. 
 In such an instance authors readily attribute the trouble to a 
 lack of memory in the patients; in fact proper names and figures 
 are among the elements that are the most difficult to evoke; 
 when one is fatigued one has difficulty in remembering proper 
 names or in speaking a foreign language that he knows only 
 slightly; this difficulty of evocation becomes very evident with the 
 aged. It is the first break in the memory. Often one retains the 
 faculty of voluntarily evoking all memories except that of proper 
 names. Those who grow old at the head of a numerous staff 
 know something of this. 
 
 We cite as an example a patient named Samse, a woman of 
 forty-two years, who follows the occupation of stocking darner. 
 She has a level of seven years; she is lively and pleasant and can 
 give much exact information about herself and her family, her 
 past life and her maladies; but whenever she is asked to give a 
 precise figure she shows herself incapable. As to the time of her 
 marriage : 
 
 Q. At what age were you married? 
 
 A. Oh! quite a while ago. 
 
 As to her belongings. 
 
 Q. Were you rich? 
 
 A. Oh well, I had a little money of course; it would be unfortunate to 
 work and not have a sou. Do you think I would spend everything? No 
 indeed, my money is invested. 
 
 Q. How much have you? 
 
 A. Oh! a good deal. 
 
 Q. But how much? 
 
 ^. Oh! well, I don't remember, but it was quite a little. 
 
 We could cite many other examples. 
 
 Naming of colors. If often happens that a general paralytic 
 cannot name the colors exactly. He recognizes the colors very 
 well and also knows their names, but he cannot recall a name at 
 will and he gives another in its place. We have found cases some- 
 what similar among imbeciles, but the difference is that the im- 
 becile either does not know or partially knows, while the para- 
 
238 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 lytic knows but cannot remember when it is necessary. For 
 example Colon, a house painter who has the level of ten years, 
 should because of his profession know the colors very well; he is 
 of an intellectual level that should be able to name them since a 
 normal child of eight years names them. 
 
 Colon has nevertheless much difficulty. He says, 
 
 For red, "That is bright red." 
 
 For yellow, "That is pale yellow." 
 
 For blue, "That is dark green it is dark blue." 
 
 For green, "That is light dark light yellow." 
 
 He therefore failed on the blue and for the green gave a curious 
 reply; perhaps by light he meant green. In any case we ask him 
 to repeat and he says, "red, light yellow, bue (instead of blue), 
 pale green" which is nearly correct. Thus he knows but cannot 
 at once show his knowledge. This inability is truly the most 
 annoying thing that could happen to a candidate during an 
 examination. 
 
 Difficulty in pronouncing words rapidly. It is the same 
 experiment but with a variation which adds to the difficulty; one 
 must not be satisfied with simply naming the colors ; they must be 
 named quickly, very quickly, as quickly as possible. Thus the 
 varied functional insufficiencies manifest themselves. 
 
 Bernard is a woman forty-five years old, who has the level of 
 seven years. We show her a sheet of white paper upon which are 
 pasted four papers, red, yellow, blue, green. At our invitation 
 she names them correctly. Then: 
 
 Q. Couldn't you go a little faster? 
 
 A. (Trying to go fast.) Red, green (correcting herself) no, yellow 
 
 green, yellow, green. 
 
 That took seven seconds, a very long time, because for a normal 
 adult one and a half seconds suffice. 
 
 Q. Try again. 
 
 A. Red, yellow, blue, yellow no, blue. 
 
 Thus when she repeats the operation with the idea of going 
 quickly she fails. She has forgotten the name of green. 
 
 (Showing her the green paper.) What is that color? 
 
 A. (After having put her finger upon the paper and having thought 
 
 a long time) Like chicken eggs no duck eggs (Correct, because 
 
 duck eggs are a tint of green). 
 
PSYCHOLOGY OF GENERAL PARALYSIS 239 
 
 Q. Yes, but what do you call it? 
 
 A. (After a long meditation which lasts five seconds) It is green. 
 
 Q. Name them now as quickly as possible. 
 
 A. Red, yellow, blue, green. 
 
 Q. Still quicker. 
 
 A. No. 
 
 Q. Oh yes. 
 
 A. Red, yellow, blue (slight bewilderment) green. (Time, five seconds.) 
 
 Q. As quickly as possible. 
 
 A. Red, yellow, blue and that, green. 
 
 Q. Quicker still. 
 A. No, it isn't fair. 
 
 Note that the considerable time of five seconds to name four 
 colors does not contain the time of reaction to a given signal; we 
 measure the duration of the pronunciation of the four words, 
 starting with the first word pronounced. With others we give a 
 signal and as soon as the signal is heard they must name the four 
 colors; we count the total time from the giving of the signal until 
 the word green, the last of the series, is pronounced using our 
 watch that marks the seconds; this rudimentary chronoscope is 
 quite sufficient because the time required is not less than four or 
 five seconds. It is curious to see patients, who like Samse have a 
 level of seven years and even others who like Philipon have a 
 level of nine years, give such very poor reactions. One of them 
 made an anticipated reaction and said the word before the sig- 
 nal was given; this was pointed out to her; she replied: "It was 
 said all the same." Others remained some time without reaction 
 to the signal. We said to one, ''Come now, start!" Instead of 
 commencing to pronounce the names of the colors she laughs and 
 looks at us. Has she forgotten the order? We ask her: 
 
 Q. What must you do now? 
 A. Why, I must begin. 
 
 But she does not start, she does not pronounce a single word. 
 
 We might have employed a chronoscope for registering the 
 times of reaction of our subjects but that would have taught us 
 nothing. When the delay and the irregularities are so great, 
 hundredths of a second become insignificant. This is because in 
 reahty something more than a slowness or a difficulty in the motor 
 evocation of a word takes place here; the patient has lost the 
 sense of the experiment and cannot recall what has been explained 
 
240 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 to him about the way to proceed. This is not a shght, limited, 
 local trouble, such as every normal person has experienced when 
 fatigued; it is a general confusion in the sense of direction, which 
 makes one forget, to speak familiarly, ''where one is." We shall 
 speak a little later of this general confusion. 
 
 Slowness of words and gestures. Another form of the 
 difficulty of evocation; certain patients show an extreme slowness 
 in replying to questions as simple as these, "Point to your nose! 
 your eyes! your mouth!" An old woman named Gauze who has a 
 level of seven years was so slow that we had the curiosity to take 
 the time of her gestures. To point to her nose she took three sec- 
 onds and her eye four seconds. Here is a bit of dialogue in which 
 we noted the time which elapsed between the end of our questions 
 and the beginning of her replies. 
 
 Q. How long since you came here? 
 
 A. (After 5 seconds) It has been two weeks, 
 
 Q. What is your profession? 
 A. (After 3.5 seconds) I was cook. 
 Q. How much did you earn a month? 
 
 A. (After 4 seconds) Oh! that's nothing. When I was through I went 
 away; they paid me. 
 
 Q. Is this morning or afternoon? 
 
 A. (After 2.5 seconds) It is afternoon. 
 
 If the reader wishes to realize the slowness of the repl}' let him 
 take his watch and allow the indicated time to pass; he will thus 
 see the extraordinary pace of our dialogue with Gauze. Other 
 tests show this same trouble of evocation in more complex phe- 
 nomena. 
 
 Lapsus calami. These are errors to which normal persons are 
 subject in writing. When one writes quickly, or when one is pre- 
 occupied by another thought than the one he is writing, or when 
 one's head is fatigued, or finally, when one is writing amidst 
 noise or distractions, it often happens that he skips a word or two. 
 Such lapses are extremely frequent in the writing of general 
 paralytics; usually dictating a few lines to them will suffice to 
 bring this out; one would certainly not so easily obtain such 
 lapses from a normal person who was either fatigued or absent- 
 minded. Thus we dictate, "In the morning I walk in the coun- 
 try." The patient wrote, "The morning walk in the country;" 
 or else they wrote prone for promene omitting the syllable me in 
 
PSYCHOLOGY OF GENERAL PARALYSIS 241 
 
 the middle of the word. Another, to whom had been dictated the 
 sentence, "The pretty Httle girls study the flowers which they 
 gathered yesterday," wrote ,"The pretty girls studied the flowers 
 gathered yesterday." To appreciate the gravity of these omis- 
 sions one must take great pains in dictating. If one imprudently 
 dictates words before the patient has finished writing those pre- 
 ceding, one will infallibly lead him to skip what has gone before. 
 But we have a better example. Even in spontaneous writing the 
 paralytic dement skips words; or rather, what is more serious, 
 leaves a word unfinished and passes to the next. We have before 
 us a letter written by a patient which eulogizes his talents as a 
 painter. In this writing are to be found lapses hke the following, 
 "I took extraordinary models from Africa. I made resplen views. 
 The sky was red," He has written resplen for resplendent, the 
 second part of the word did not form itself under his pen. It is 
 simply to comply with usage that we call this phenomenon for- 
 getfulness; in reality it is produced by lack of evocation. We 
 do not encounter these lapses so frequently among the morons; 
 when a moron writes he does not usually omit many words. 
 
 Errors op arithmetic. For a long while alienists have found 
 empirically clinical procedures which admirably bring to light the 
 intellectual defects of these dements. Here the instinct of the 
 investigator has gone ahead of his theory. It has been felt that 
 the paralytic must betray himself in arithmetical operations be- 
 cause these operations require a mental application of which he is 
 incapable. 
 
 Let us first see them counting sous; it is rare that a paralytic 
 succeeds quickly in an exact calculation with sous. Thus Colon, 
 who has a level of ten years and represents one of our most in- 
 telligent patients, counts 17 sous when there are only 16. Most 
 of them are so; they neglect a sou or two or they forget them. It 
 is the same thing when dressing themselves or buttoning their 
 clothes. Forgetting some of the sous is the same thing as having 
 a dirty beard; it reveals the same mental state. We say negli- 
 gence, because if we call their attention to it and tell them to be 
 more careful they are able to count without error. 
 
 When we give them written additions where there are numbers 
 to be carried the operation is always difficult for them. One 
 sees many of the paralytics act as though there were no number 
 to be carried. Example, 36 + 29, he calculates thus; 6 plus 9 
 
242 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 equals 16, he writes 16; then he continues; he says 3 plus 2 equals 
 5, he writes 5, and obtains a sum of 516. This is not the only- 
 error that he commits but it is the most characteristic since he 
 recalls the process of the operation. In what does this error con- 
 sist? The subject has not, properly speaking, forgotten the rules 
 of addition ; but he does not evoke them at the necessary moment ; 
 he does not remember that the 1 of the first sum should be added 
 to the number in the next column. 
 
 Let us cite the example of Philippon who has a level of nine 
 years and who nevertheless cannot do correctly a sum in addition, 
 where there is a number to be carried. Here is a specimen of 
 her work, four additions in which she has committed two types 
 of errors, first, a frequent error of addition, and, second, a con- 
 stant error of carrying consisting in writing the number to be 
 carried as a separate figure. 
 
 Furthermore, in the simplest operations an unbelievable 
 number of errors is possible. We shall cite a few examples. 
 
 54 38 84 29 
 
 66 56 78 43 
 
 11 11 8 16 13 12 6 17 
 
 Addition executed by Philippon, general paralytic, who has a level of 
 nine years. 
 
 In the first place errors in the arrangement of the figures; as, 
 when 4 is to be subtracted from 11, they write 11 below 4 and try 
 to take 11 from 4; or they completely forget the number to be 
 carried; or again, whenever there is a number to be carried espe- 
 cially if the question is complicated they abandon the operation 
 in the very midst. 
 
 The following addition was given to Samse, 4 + 12. She 
 counts, 4 and 2 are 6, and 1 are 7 and writes only the last figure. 
 
 Disorder. Another confusion appears in their calculation 
 which is very curious. Let us suppose them to be doing a prob- 
 lem which requires a multiplication and afterwards a division. 
 The beginning of the operation is easy enough; then in the midst 
 of it they stop, are lost, and can no longer call up the conditions 
 of the problems; no matter what effort they make they cannot 
 gather up the thread. This state of disorder may be explained, 
 it seems to us, in the following manner; when one performs a 
 
PSYCHOLOGY OF GENERAL PARALYSIS 243 
 
 problem there is a train of reasoning that he follows out; he passes 
 from argument a to argument h then to c then to d, and when he 
 arrives at d he has still present in his mind c and h and a; he has the 
 perception of the order followed up to the point where he stands ; 
 and he sees briefly the whole route that he traversed; if he does 
 not see this clearly, he has at least the feeling for it. This per- 
 mits him to continue in a direction which is in harmony with 
 the commencement. In the paralytic this subconscious evocation 
 undergoes an eclipse; the idea flies, it disappears. It is like a 
 signal light that vanishes; one cannot relight it so remains in 
 darkness. Another comparison perhaps better and already used 
 by us is that of the chess board. While one is studying the dis- 
 posal of the pieces some one passes, hits the board and all the 
 pieces are jumbled together. It is this chaos that is produced 
 from time to time in the mind of the dement. He is conscious 
 of this and says himself that he no longer knows what he is about. 
 A very simple example is furnished us by a young man, Alex- 
 ander, whose level is that of nine years. We say to him after 
 putting money before him, "You are a merchant; here is money 
 for you to make change from; and here is merchandise to sell. 
 I will buy this box which costs four sous. I pay you with the 
 twenty-sou piece. How much change will you giveme?" This 
 explanation is repeated a great number of times. Then we say 
 to Alexander, 
 
 Q. How much will you give me back? 
 A. Well, 4 sous. I give you back 4 sous. Here they are. 
 And he gives us the 4 sous. 
 Q. Let us see, how much was the box? 
 A. 4 sous. 
 
 Q. And I gave you how much? 
 A. 50 centimes. 
 
 Q. (Showing him the 1-fr. piece.) I gave you how much? 
 A. 1 franc. 
 
 He had inadvertently made an error, having mistaken a 1-fr. piece for 
 50 centimes. But this was not his only error. 
 Q. So you should give me back how much? 
 A. 16; 16 and 5, that makes 21. 21 and 3 that makes 24. 
 Q. You will give me then? 
 A. 23. 
 Q. 23 sous. 
 A. You need still more 7, 3 and 7, 30, and 6, 36. 
 
244 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 This would be pure gibberish, if we had not followed step by 
 step the ideas of Alexander and if we had not taken into account 
 the manner in which he reasoned. Let us analyse. We obtained 
 a first point; he is conscious that he should give us back 16 sous. 
 But immediately afterwards he loses his direction; seeing some 
 sous before him on the table, he thinks he must add them to that 
 sum of 16; so he adds the piece of 5 sous which is on the table 
 then 3 sous which makes 24, and he thinks that he should give 
 back 24 sous. Here is a slight lapse for, having announced 24, 
 he forgets and believes that it is 23. Then seeing that we still 
 wait he has the idea of continuing his addition. To the 23 sous 
 he adds all that he finds upon the table, first 7 sous, which makes 
 30 sous, then 6 sous, which makes 36 sous. In reality he is com- 
 pletely lost because he has abandoned his first idea and seems no 
 longer to think of it. It is important to note that the operation 
 does not by any means surpass his knowledge, his intellectual 
 level; the proof of this is given in what follows. 
 
 Q. Well then, let us begin again; the box costs? 
 
 A. 4 sous. 
 
 Q. I gave you? 
 
 A. 1 fr. 
 
 Q. Well then, you should give me back? 
 
 A. (In a clear tone without hesitation) 16 sous. 
 
 It is characteristic in these losses of functioning that the sub- 
 ject knows how to do the problem submitted to him; he has the 
 knowledge but from time to time the power fails him. To Colon, 
 the house painter who has a level of ten years, we gave a simple 
 written subtraction to do, 25 — 9. He wrote 25 and put the 
 9 below the 5. 
 
 Q. Calculate. 
 
 A. 9 and 5, 14; I carry 1; 1 and 2, 3, 34. 
 
 He has forgotten that he was to subtract and he makes an 
 addition. The operation takes 30 seconds. 
 
 Q. So 25 less 9, that makes 34? 
 
 A. Yes sir (thinking it over), Oh, no; (he calculates again) 5 and 9, 
 14, I carry 1; 1 and 2, 3. 
 
 He repeats the same error. He is shown that he was wrong 
 in making the addition. He starts again the same way. 
 
PSYCHOLOGY OF GENEEAL PARALYSIS 245 
 
 Q. But I said 25-9. So 25-9 that makes 34? 
 
 A. Oh! no. That makes , 25-9 that makes 21. 
 
 Q. Calculate out loud. 
 
 A. 25, 34, less 9, 34 less 9 that makes 20. 25 less 9, 15, 16, that 
 makes only 16. Yes, 25 less 9, that makes 16. 
 
 This second operation has taken one minute and fifty seconds 
 which is an enormous time if one takes the pains to reahze it 
 watch in hand. Notice that he has reached the true solution, 
 which is to be expected since he has the level of ten years, but he 
 has not attained the end without losing himself three times on 
 the way; it was necessary each time to expressly demand, "Is 
 the result correct?" to make him perceive that he had made an 
 addition instead of a subtraction. This loss of direction indeed 
 supposes an insufficience of evocation. To follow a direction, 
 the directing idea must be prolonged either unconsciously or by 
 short successive recurrences. Here we have seen with what 
 facility it disappears. 
 
 We now come to the phenomena of reception; perception, com- 
 prehension of that which goes on about the individual. In these 
 phenomena of reception the absence of evocation also makes itself 
 felt. Here the sense of the word is a little diverted from its 
 usage, because it is no longer a question of memory properly so 
 called but of perception. We must admit however that in the 
 formation of a perception there is implied a recalling; we perceive 
 an object only because the stimulus of the sensation evokes 
 some former knowledge, some acquired images. It is these im- 
 plied evocations in every exterior perception which are badly 
 formed in the general paralytic. Some unusual phenomena 
 result from this; we are going to study some of these phenomena, 
 notably the incomplete perceptions. 
 
 Incomplete perceptions. In incomplete perceptions the 
 sensations which ought to be the point of departure of the evo- 
 cation are indeed felt, but only certain ones of these sensations 
 make the evocations; the others rest inert; therefore, an incom- 
 plete fragmentary perception results which one can very simply 
 illustrate by the use of playing cards. 
 
 Madame Gauze knows the cards. When asked to name those 
 presented to her she indicates the suit correctly; for the value 
 she is often obhged to count with her fingers. If a card is presented 
 to her and she is asked simply to name it she usually indicates 
 either the suit or the value, rarely both. Example, 
 
246 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 Cards Shown Replies of Subject 
 
 Ace of clubs Ace 
 
 Queen of clubs A Queen 
 
 Jack of clubs A Jack 
 
 Jack of hearts A Jack 
 
 Eight of spades Eight of hearts 
 
 King of clubs King of hearts 
 
 Queen of hearts (correct) 
 
 Ten of spades Spades 
 
 Ten of clubs Clubs 
 
 Eight of clubs Eight of spades 
 
 Queen of diamonds A Queen 
 
 King of hearts The King 
 
 King of spades Well, that's the King, 
 
 Q. But what is he called? The King of spades. 
 
 King of diamonds The King 
 
 Jack of diamonds The Jack 
 
 Is there here a defect of perception or a defect of evocation 
 of the name? It matters little, the essential thing is to record 
 that there is a defect. Another example shows the same defect, 
 the same negligence being produced also by cards but under 
 rather different conditions. We show the woman Philippon the 
 nine of clubs. 
 
 A. That is clubs. 
 
 Q. How many of clubs? 
 
 A. The seven. 
 
 Q. (With surprise) Ah! 
 
 A. On no! the nine, I am mistaken. 
 
 Q. You must remember that it is the nine. 
 
 A. Certainly. 
 
 We place the card in a pack which is presented to her. 
 
 Q. Find it now. 
 
 A. (Gaily) Sure, I must find it, my card. 
 
 She looks at the cards one by one, and makes two piles, one of 
 red the other black, with errors from time to time in this useless 
 assortment. During this operation the nine of clubs passes 
 under her eyes. 
 
 A. (Saluting the card) Here it is, my beauty. Come my old friend. 
 But instead of taking out the card she puts others on top of it. We say 
 to her. 
 
 Q. You have not found the card. Give it to me. 
 A. Oh! yes, I found it, it is the nine, and here it is. 
 
PSYCHOLOGY OF GENERAL PARALYSIS 247 
 
 She hands us the seven of clubs which she has just found; but 
 then she shows a shght hesitation and perceiving the eight of 
 clubs which came next she hands that instead of the seven. 
 
 Q. Is that really the card that you were to give me? 
 A. (Without looking at the card.) I am not mistaken. 
 Q. Is it really the one? 
 A. I tell you I am not mistaken. 
 
 Q. Come now, look at the card (showing the eight of clubs). What is 
 this card that you gave me? 
 A. It is the eight. 
 Q. And you should give me? 
 A. The nine. 
 
 Q. You have not given it to me? 
 A. (In a familiar tone.) Rascal! 
 
 She hunts in the pile and finds the ten of clubs and says: 
 A. Here is the ten of clubs, the nine is not far away. 
 
 This illustration shows several things, a defect of evocation 
 of the right name, negligence, power of action inferior to knowl- 
 edge. 
 
 Illusions in exterior perceptions. We shall group with 
 partial perceptions certain psychological phenomena which have 
 an entirely different aspect but which depend upon the same 
 fragmentary character of the perception. When our patient, to 
 whom we show the six of hearts, tells us simply that it is six he 
 forms an incomplete perception; but incomplete as it is the name 
 remains correct, because the suit and the value in a playing card 
 are distinct facts to be noted. It is no longer the same when 
 the perception bears upon a collection of objects, a picture or an 
 engraving; each of the elements in such a group has a significance 
 which depends at the same time upon itself and upon the rest ; 
 if one perceives it separately one may be deceived as to its nature. 
 Therefore the number of errors which these patients make upon 
 pictures is very great. Phihppon (nine year level), to whom we' 
 show a picture representing a prisoner standing on his bed to 
 look out of a narrow window, imagines that the man is perched 
 on a rock; Bern sees in the cart of the ragman a horse which 
 does not exist; Gauze, allowing her indolent glance to wander 
 over a picture representing a poor old man and a woman seated 
 on a bench, gives the following information. 
 
248 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 Q. What is there, here? 
 
 A. A man who is all white, and then his wife who is all black (if the 
 man appears to her all white it is doubtless because of his white beard). 
 
 Q. And what else? 
 
 A. That! (she shows the trunk of a tree). And there a bench. 
 
 A. And what besides? 
 
 A. A spoon. 
 
 Q. A spoon? Where is it? 
 
 A. There, I think that is a spoon. 
 
 Astonishing illusion; the scene clearly takes place on a boulevard. 
 Where does she see a spoon? 
 
 Q. Show me where the spoon is? 
 
 She follows with her finger the picture of a street lamp. Thus she mis- 
 takes for a spoon the street lamp, which in this case, would be very large 
 and planted in the ground. We persist. 
 
 Q. But where is all this which is happening? 
 
 A. Well it is the man who is white and his wife who is black. 
 
 Q. But are they in the house? Where are they? 
 
 A. They are on a bench. 
 
 Q. Are they in the country, by the road? 
 
 A. Well, there wouldn't be things along a road. 
 
 Q. What kind of things? 
 
 A. Well, there is no housekeeping on a road (not clear). 
 
 Q. But listen. Here are trees. 
 
 A. Yes. 
 
 Q. Then it is in a garden. 
 
 A. Yes. 
 
 Q. How could there be a spoon like that in a garden? 
 
 A. I don't know. I said a spoon as I would say anything else. 
 
 This illustrates the illusion of the senses among these patients, 
 an isolated perception which is false, which is not correlated 
 with the rest, and which is not corrected. 
 
 Illusions in verbal perceptions. Here it is a question of 
 perceiving and understanding a sentence pronounced by another 
 person. Every sentence is a composition of words, each of which 
 has not only its own sense but a sense determined by the rest of 
 the sentence. If one perceives but one word of the sentence, or 
 but a single syllable he may build upon it a perception which 
 will be not only incomplete but above all erroneous. These 
 verbal illusions though not very frequent often occur among 
 general paratytics. We have noted a certain number of them. 
 Gauze, before whom we talk and exchange the remark, ''iVows 
 avons oublie ga," (We have forgotten that) says to us spontane- 
 ously, "Je suis nee a Epernay;" (I was born in Epernay); it is 
 
PSYCHOLOGY OF GENERAL PARALYSIS 249 
 
 probable that she perceived the isolated sound oiiblie and inter- 
 preted it to be ou est nee. Another, Bern, hearing one of us say 
 to the other, "N'est-ce pas?" (Is that not so?) was impressed 
 simply by the sound and understood Espagne (Spain) and said 
 to us, "In Spain you know they are very false; in Portugal they 
 
 work. I lived with a French woman " after this came a 
 
 description of her life as a house maid. 
 
 Thus, partial perceptions may give place to verbal illusions. 
 But we repeat this phenomenon is quite rare. 
 
 Inertia of comprehension. The study of verbal illusions 
 as well as that of incomplete perceptions puts us upon the track 
 of a more general phenomenon, that of the inability to compre- 
 hend the thought of others. We have often been struck by the 
 difficulty which certain patients feel in understanding our verbal 
 explanations; the least complicated explanation often does not 
 penetrate; this is therefore a very serious obstacle when making 
 psychological experiments upon them, because a psychological 
 experiment is always dependent upon the primary condition that 
 the explanatory remarks be understood; it is only after this first 
 requirement is realized that one can go on with the experiment. 
 
 What illustrations we could give of this difficulty in under- 
 standing! Here for instance is the old woman. Gauze, who has 
 a level of seven years and who besides knows how to count. We 
 show her four single sous, and ask her, "How many are there?" 
 She replies correctly, "four sous." We take away one and add 
 three double sous which makes nine sous. We ask her again, 
 "How many are there now?" She replies, "6 sous." As this 
 is incorrect we say to her, "Count aloud." She commences to 
 count, counting only the double ones, and says, "two, four, six 
 sous." 
 
 Here is the rest of the dialogue. 
 
 Q. How! there are only six sous? 
 A. Ah! with those three sous there. 
 Q. Count again. 
 
 We imagine she is going to count the single sous with the double ones. 
 Not at all. 
 
 A. (She looks attentively at each sou and says) A Republic. One sou. 
 
 Two sous. 
 
 The idea of counting, although so natural when one sees money, has 
 disappeared. We are obliged to insist in order to make it return. 
 
 Q. How much money does that make, all that? 
 
 A. Two, four, six, seven, eight, nine. 
 
250 
 
 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 Here at last is the exact count. So she knows how to count 
 but she is not able to grasp the idea that she must do it. This 
 instructive scene ends by the following remarks from the patient. 
 
 "My husband, he says, you ought to go to school. Very well, I am 
 very sorry because I shall never get away. (She weeps.) So it was the 
 doctor who said I must go awa.y from home. I did not know that it was 
 here." 
 
 FIG. 20. MLLE. PHILIPPUN; GtXEKAL PARALYTIC; INTELLECTUAL LEVEL 
 OF NINE YEARS: NOTE THE SMILE OF SATISFACTION AND DISARRANGED 
 TOILET. 
 
 Here is another very typical example of the difficulty in under- 
 standing. We wish to have some one repeat numbers in a de- 
 scending order; for example to start at 20 and recite the lower 
 ones 19, 18, 17 to 0. For a normal this explanation would be 
 sufficient; as soon as our brief instructions were given he would 
 
PSYCHOLOGY OF GENERAL PARALYSIS 
 
 251 
 
 commence to pronounce the figures in the indicated order; he 
 might be obHged to go very slowly or he might commit many 
 errors, the execution of the experiment might be more or less 
 defective but the idea of the experiment would have been grasped. 
 Let us now take a general paralytic and see how much time 
 and explanation are required for him. Philippon has the level of 
 
 FIG. 21. PROFILE OF MLLE. PHILIPPON. 
 
 nine years and consequently retains considerable intelligence. 
 We give the entire detail of the test. 
 
 Q. Will you count backwards beginning with 20, as far as 0? Do you 
 understand? 
 
 A. (With a satisfied air). That is not difficult. 
 
 Q. Well begin. 
 
 A. 10, 20, 30, 40, 50, 60, 70, 80 
 
252 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 Q. No, not that; you must count as I do. 20, 19, 18, 17 — - — and so on 
 down to 0. 
 
 A. (With a nod of acquiescence.) Yes. 
 
 Q. Commence, 20! 
 
 A. Let's say 10. 
 
 Q. No, say 20, 19, 18, and then? 
 
 A. 30, 40, 50, 60, 70, 80, 90, 100, 1,000. There! 
 
 Q. But no. Listen to me. You are going to do as I do. I will do it 
 first, 20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 0. Do you 
 understand? 
 
 A. Yes 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 
 
 Q. But, no! 
 
 A. (Continuing) 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 1.3 
 
 Q. But, no! 
 
 A. (Continuing) 14, 16, 17 
 
 Q. But no! Stop! That is not it. It is in the other direction you 
 must count. 
 
 A. Yes, I counted forwards. 
 
 Q. You must count backwards. 20, 19 
 
 A. 20, 19 
 
 Q. (Prompting) 18, and then! 
 
 A. And then 20, so 22, 24, 26, 28, 30. 
 
 Q. Listen. Do as I do! 20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 
 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 0. 
 
 A. Oh! very well. I will do like that. 20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 12, 13, 
 
 10 I've lost it 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, well 3, 5, 4, 3, 2, and 1^— and to goon 
 
 25, 30, etc. 
 
 She took 35 seconds to count backwards, a considerable time. 
 
 Q. Try to go quicker, 20, 19, 
 
 A. 36, 37. 
 
 Q. No, not like that, 20, 19, 18, • 
 
 A. 20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 17, 16, 15. I've lost it. 
 
 Q. 14. 
 
 .4. 14, 13, 12, 11, 11. 
 
 Q. 10. 
 
 A. 10, 9, 8, 8, 6, 5, 3, 2, and 1. 
 
 This time it required 45 seconds. 
 
 In analysing this long attempt it can be seen that our patient 
 has understood only because we have had the patience to give 
 her six complete explanations, while in general a single one suffices. 
 But notice that. this woman knew very well how to count back- 
 wards since she finally succeeded; it is not, therefore, the knowl- 
 edge that is lacking but the comprehension of what is asked of 
 her. All this is a remarkable example of inertia of comprehension. 
 
 We ask Vigne. "How many fingers have you on the right 
 
 hand?" She asks to have the question repeated. 
 
PSYCHOLOGY OF GENERAL PARALYSIS 253 
 
 A. On the right hand? I have two hands. 
 Q. But how many fingers have you on the right hand? 
 A. I have ten. 
 
 Q. On the right hand? I ask you on the right hand! The right hand! 
 How many fingers have j'^ou? 
 
 A. Very well I have two (showing both hands). 
 
 Q . No, on your right hand, how many fingers? 
 
 A. (She only gives a questioning, astonished look.) 
 
 Q. How many fingers have you on the right hand? 
 
 A. Ah! I don't know what you mean. 
 
 We put exactly the same question to her sometime afterwards. 
 
 A. Well, I have five. 
 
 Q. And on the left hand? 
 
 A. Oh! well, I have five. 
 
 Q. And on both? 
 
 A. Well that makes ten. 
 
 She knows then how to reply and to give the very simple in- 
 formation that is asked of her, but she does not understand 
 what is wished of her. 
 
 This continual lack of comprehension often prevents their 
 taking part in a directed conversation, a very striking contrast 
 by the way, with what we have observed among imbeciles. In a 
 disconnected conversation, especially if one follows their lead, 
 they may for a time give a false impression of the value of their 
 intelhgence, as they habitually show a greater fluency than 
 imbeciles, but a precise and definite questioning immediately 
 brings out their deterioration. 
 
 Psychologically, lack of comprehension consists in the absence 
 of suggestion of ideas. A person who understands has a train of 
 ideas following the words heard, and the ideas correlate with the 
 words; a person who does not understand, to whom one speaks 
 for example an unknown language, hears the sounds but the 
 evocation of ideas does not take place; or possibly ideas are evoked 
 whose falsity is at once discernible. Among our patients we 
 sometimes observe, in cases such as we have just cited, a complete 
 absence of evocation; or, at least if the absence is not rigorously 
 absolute, which probably never occurs, it is sufficiently striking 
 for the patient to have the feeling that he has not understood, or 
 indeed for the idea evoked to be insignificant. But now and then 
 a false idea is produced which constitutes a contradiction. This 
 contradiction manifests itself more clearly in two somewhat 
 different cases where the phenomena is a little more complicated, 
 
254 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 which we shall call greffage [grafting], and incongruous replies. 
 In lack of comprehension there is only inertia disclosing itself 
 by a negative state, a repose ; in greffage there is a certain intel- 
 lectual activity. 
 
 Greffage. In a conversation, apropos of a poorly under- 
 stood question for example, or a picture to be interpreted, it often 
 happens that a general paralytic does not content himself with 
 an irrelevant reply, but grafts upon it the aimless development 
 of an idea. 
 
 Let us cite examples. Samse is in the act of repeating words 
 that have been given her and this is the way that greffage occurs. 
 
 Q. Papa. 
 
 A. Papa. 
 
 Q. Shoe, hat. 
 
 A. Shoe, the hat. 
 
 Q. I am cold, I am very hungry. 
 
 A. I am cold, I am very hungry. 
 
 Q. I have a handkerchief. I have clean hands. 
 
 A. (Nowise distracted.) Of course I have. 
 
 Q. You did not repeat! 
 
 A. Oh! yes, I did say it. 
 
 Useless to argue. Let us continue. 
 
 Q. (Giving a sentence to repeat.) My name is Gaston! Oh! the dread- 
 ful dog! 
 
 A. Ah! ah! that's true, so it's a dog, that's all right. 
 
 Q. (Giving with energetic accent a new sentence to repeat.) It rains 
 in the garden! Joseph is doing his lessons! 
 
 A. Ah! ah! that's good. 
 
 Q. You have repeated? 
 
 A. Oh! yes. 
 
 Q. What did you say? 
 
 A. I said that was good. Joseph works well then. 
 
 Let us notice what happens. When the repetition is easy 
 Samse does not fail; when the sentence becomes longer and the 
 repetition is consequently more difficult Samse ceases to make 
 the necessary effort to reproduce the sentence verbatim; she 
 fixes her attention upon the idea expressed by the sentence and 
 the grafting begins. 
 
 Another example furnished by Bern. We have her repeat 
 some sentences. She does it correctly, then the grating begins. 
 
 Q. My name is Gaston. Oh! the dreadful dog! 
 
 J.. Oh! the bad dog. I had Turc, a pretty bulldog 
 
PSYCHOLOGY OF GENERAL PARALYSIS 255 
 
 Q. We enjoy ourselves greatly; I have caught a mouse. 
 
 A. Oh yes. I have caught a mouse. There were rats above there 
 
 is a granary, etc. 
 
 Here is a similar example of grafting in the definitions. 
 
 Q. What is a fork? 
 
 A. A fork, it's a fork. I have three of silver. But they are marked. 
 
 Q. What is a horse. 
 
 A. There are horses at Corbenay. I have seen cows; and ducks; they 
 lay eggs, and then the chickens, there are chickens. Yes, ducks lay eggs, 
 etc. 
 
 The same is true with Philippon. 
 
 Q. Papa, mama. 
 
 A. Papa, mama, my sister, my brother, cousins, plenty of them, my 
 cousin who is, etc. 
 
 Q. Shoe, hat. 
 
 A. Shoe, hat. I have a beautiful hat with violets. 
 
 Q. It is cold, I am hungry. 
 
 A. Oh yes, on the contrary it is warm. I am hungry, I hope to go 
 home to have good things to drink and eat ; we never get enough ; it is like 
 the two ladies, there, they have eaten nothing this evening, it is too long, 
 it is necessary to force everybody; at Grenelle I shall stop to get my watch. 
 And then I am going to have my teeth pulled, etc. 
 
 Q. We enjoy ourselves greatly, I have caught a mouse. 
 
 A. Oh! the poor little creature. I would love to have one of those 
 little creatures in a cage. I used to sell matches, and birds at the market. 
 I have done everything. I did then as well as my sister-in-law, etc. 
 
 Exactly what is this greffage from a psychological point of 
 view? It supposes indeed a certain inertia of comprehension 
 because a patient who understood clearly that he was to repeat 
 a sentence and nothing else would avoid adding whole sentences 
 of his own invention. In addition to this there is nonsense, that 
 is to say an absence or a weakness of direction; there is also a 
 certain cerebral activity that manifests itself under a form which 
 has no need of reflection nor of effort. At first thought, this 
 intellectual activity seems contradictory to our hypothesis of 
 inertia of evocation; if all their ideas were struck with inertia 
 how would all this garrulity be possible? It is because the 
 inertia of evocation may manifest itself by the failure to evoke 
 the correct idea, the precise one which is needed, and while the 
 only idea of which there is need is not aroused, a swarm of other 
 ideas rush in which are indifferent or really false. 
 
 Incongruous replies. Here are some singular replies. 
 They are not absolutely lacking in sense but they have no rela- 
 
256 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 tion to the question. These replies are frequent among certain 
 general paralytics but not among all. So far as we know they 
 have not been pointed out up to the present; they have without 
 doubt passed unperceived; and we understand why because 
 we ourselves did not notice them for a long time; we collected 
 them in our stenographic work without realizing their import. 
 When one of our patients made an incongruous reply we dis- 
 regarded it; we attributed it to some casual circumstance without 
 significance. For instance, we supposed that our patient in 
 listening to us had a moment's distraction or perhaps that he 
 was hard of hearing. Here are some fragments of these dialogues. 
 We choose our examples of course from the clearest cases; not all 
 cases are equally incongruous. 
 
 We ask Holeg, who was once a cabman on his own account and 
 later was coachman for another, 
 
 Q. Why did you go out of business for yourself? 
 
 A. The hackney-coaches. 
 
 Q. Yes, but why did you go out of business? 
 
 A. Yes, I had coachmen. 
 
 A. But why did you quit? 
 
 A. Ah! because went home. Then I hired out to some employers. 
 
 Q. Yes, but you had been proprietor. Why did you cease? 
 
 A. Because I had enough; because I had to work myself. 
 
 However mediocre this last reply he might have given it at first. 
 
 Q. How long did you stay with your employer? 
 
 A. Oh! I stayed a long time with him, three years. ' 
 
 Q. Where were you before? 
 
 A. I was in business myself. 
 
 Q. Where was that? 
 
 A. For fifteen years. 
 
 He replies to a question of address by information about the time. 
 
 We ask another patient, a women 36 years old. 
 
 Q. Madame, what is your name? 
 
 A. Louise, ApoUine. 
 
 Q. How old are you? 
 
 A. I am lay No. 3 (incomprehensible reply). 
 
 Q. Let me see, what did you say? 
 A. It was in the blind alley Barrier. 
 
 She lived rightly enough No. 3, Blind Alley Barrier. She gives her ad- 
 dress when asked her age. 
 Q. But how old are you? 
 A. Thirty-six years old. 
 Q. In what year were you born? 
 A. In Crepe Sa6ne-et-Loire. 
 
PSYCHOLOGY OF GENERAL PARALYSIS 257 
 
 She was born in Cr6py-en-Valois, Oise. 
 
 Q. How is that? 
 
 A. How is that? 
 
 Q. In what year were you born, I ask? 
 
 A. Ah! I don't know, because I was little at that time. 
 
 She replies by giving the place of her birth when asked to give the date. 
 
 Again : 
 
 Q. How much does your husband earn? 
 
 A. His name is Vanbergh. There is an h at the end. 
 
 Q. But how much does he earn? 
 
 A. How is that? 
 
 Q. But how much does your husband earn? 
 
 A. His name is Vanbergh. 
 
 Q. Yes, but how much does he earn? 
 
 A. I do not know what he earns. 
 
 Q. And you, what do you do? 
 
 A. Yes, he has a lame foot. He got a splinter in his foot. 
 
 Same remark. She gives her husband's name when asked how much 
 he earns. 
 
 Bern, a woman of forty who has a level of seven years, abounds in in- 
 congruous replies. 
 
 Q. At what age were you married? 
 
 A. I kept house for twelve years. 
 
 This is not a reply to the question. 
 
 Q. How old will you be when you are a hundred years old? 
 
 A. I will be old. I won't go to a hundred years nor my husband either. 
 
 Q. But how old will you be when you are a hundred years old? 
 
 A. I won't go to a hundred years. 
 
 Again an answer which does not fit the question. 
 
 We ask of Samse. 
 
 Q. Are you a lady or gentleman? 
 
 A. (Laughing) Oh! I am not a gentleman, oh! 
 
 Q. Are you a little boy? 
 
 A. I have none. 
 
 Always the same incongruity. 
 
 All these nonsensical replies suppose that the question has only 
 been partially understood by the patients. They understand 
 that a question has been asked; they even understand some words 
 of the question or its general sense, but they do not grasp it in 
 its integrity nor get its shade of meaning, so the reply is indirect. 
 It is the same mechanism as that which produces partial per- 
 ceptions; the mechanism is as follows. Not all the words heard 
 evoke their appropriate images; there is only a fragmentary 
 perception of the sentence, although, a circumstance important 
 to note, the question asked is not above the intelligence of the 
 
258 THE INTELLIGENCE OP THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 patient. It suffices as a rule to insist, to raise the voice, to arouse 
 the attention, in order to destroy this psychic deafness and finally 
 to obtain a correct reply. Furthermore a development of ideas 
 is produced by inertia. The patient in whom an idea has been 
 previously awakened continues it, without asking himself if it 
 applies to the present case. The following example is characteris- 
 tic. 
 
 Q. (To Bernard) Show me your right ear. 
 A. Here it is. (She points to it.) 
 Q. Show me your left hand. 
 A. These are my little ears. 
 
 She continues to think of her ears either because she does not 
 understand the new question or because she finds it difficult to 
 leave the first question. It is inertia; but it is the inertia of move- 
 ment, the continuation of an impulse, a ball which continues to 
 roll. 
 
 In that which precedes we have taken no account of the clinical 
 signs by which one habitually recognizes general paralysis. These 
 signs are too complex and at the same time they are known in 
 too inexact a manner to serve in the building up of a psychological 
 theory. Indeed they are known chiefly through the testimony 
 of relatives or sometimes by the very incomplete accounts given 
 by the patients themselves. It only remains to be seen whether 
 they contradict the observations which we have here presented. 
 It seems to us that they do not. 
 
 An important fact which has struck all alienists is that it is by 
 his state of being and his acts rather than by the disorder of his 
 speech that a patient betrays the change which takes place. 
 The acts which attract the attention are variable. They differ 
 according to the individual, according to circumstances, according 
 to chance. They may be classed as errors like negligence, for- 
 getting important matters, destroying useful things, delays, 
 abandoning of work for no reason; faults of housekeeping, for 
 example, meals not ready on time, the food too salty, or burned ; 
 useless expenditure; carelessness of dress; and lastly delinquent 
 acts, robbery, petty thieving, indecencies, etc. 
 
 Among these clinical facts we shall choose only one, which is 
 very characteristic and which may be observed as soon as the 
 
PSYCHOLOGY OF GENERAL PARALYSIS 259 
 
 patient enters the asylum; it is the unconsciousness which he 
 shows in relation to his new situation. Many cannot find their 
 direction, they do not know where they are, they know neither 
 the day, the month, nor the hour of the day; they do not, there- 
 fore, take into account the little external signs which should 
 permit them to orient themselves. A patient, writes Kraepelin, 
 repHes that it is January notwithstanding there are fresh cherries 
 on the table. We recall having seen a woman about fifty years 
 of age who was only at the beginning of her malady and who in 
 her conversation showed herself so intelligent, so sensible, that 
 one would not suspect any intellectual weakening; yet already 
 she showed that indifference to her surroundings which is so 
 characteristic of paralytic dementia. To thoroughly under- 
 stand this indifference and above all to judge of it let us imagine 
 how a perfectly normal person would feel if he were locked up 
 in an asylum ; let us put ourselves in the place of such a person ; 
 the most careless of us would be disturbed and irritated by this 
 sequestration. We should want to know where we were and why 
 we were locked up. The first time our patient was brought to 
 the office and introduced to us she seated herself tranquilly in a 
 chair, drew her glasses from their case, and began to read the 
 paper as if she did not understand that it would be to her interest 
 to know who we were and what we wanted of her. Note that 
 she had only just been brought to the hospital. There was 
 therefore in her a lack of comprehension of the surroundings, 
 a state which resembled metaphorically that of partial percep- 
 tion; it was as though she saw only the table, the chairs, the 
 wholly material part of the office, and perceived nothing beyond 
 and did not reahze that the office belonged to a hospital and 
 that the hospital enclosed her like a prison. The ease with which 
 such patients accept their sequestration was long ago noted 
 by alienists; it is sometimes the only sign which they give of 
 their intellectual weakening. In everything else they seem 
 normal. 
 
 With others the trouble takes on a shghtly different form. 
 They demand their release every time they see the physician; 
 but they do not seem to remember that the previous day they 
 asked the same thing in identical terms and, moreover, that it 
 has lead to nothing, and that during the interval of the visits 
 of the physician they paid no more heed to then' release and spoke 
 of it to no one. 
 
260 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 It seems to us that nothing in all these diverse facts is contrary 
 to the explanation which we have given of the lack of power of 
 evocation; to forget important objects, neglect to salt the food, 
 or salt it twice, or, again, to lose the sense of propriety, of modesty, 
 or even of duty, all this attributed according to the case to loss 
 of memory, of judgment, of attention, to the "I have forgotten," 
 "I did not pay attention;" but all this should be explained, as 
 we think, by a weakening of the power of evocation of ideas 
 and feehngs; the last idea does not reappear and, hence, forget- 
 fulness, inattention. The correcting sense which would inhibit 
 the grotesque or immoral act does not awaken, and hence, the 
 loss of judgment or of moral sense. One has therefore no trouble 
 in harmonizing cUnical facts with the theory which we have just 
 outUned; but let it be clearly understood that we prefer to rely 
 upon personal and direct observations, rather than clinical his- 
 tories which are too often obtained second hand. Chnical facts 
 will not serve to construct or to demonstrate our theory; let us 
 content ourselves with proving that they do not contradict it. 
 
 3. Considerations upon the difficulty of functioning, 
 ITS extent and its character. We have already cited a great 
 number of examples of this lack of evocation which we believe 
 to be characteristic of paralytic dementia. We have been able 
 to note that according to the domains considered the phenomenon 
 of evocation takes on different aspects; for the acts of memory 
 it constitutes forgetfulness; for movements and acts it shows 
 itself either by lapses in writing or by a lack of continuity in 
 occupations; for perceptions it is equivalent to defect, almost 
 to anaesthesia that is, as it were, psychic deafness. At other 
 tumes the same phenomenon has been designated under the name 
 of lack of attention, or distraction, or neghgence. But under 
 these different aspects and in spite of this varying terminology 
 we always find a weakening of the same faculty, the faculty of 
 evocation. 
 
 In the light of all these observations this faculty appears as 
 one of the most important parts of the intellectual mechanism. 
 It does not consist solely in awakening an isolated memory, 
 it is not limited to a mere detail of the memory function; it comes 
 into play in all intellectual operations; it furnishes them their 
 necessary food because all intellectual work is performed by 
 means of ideas, and these ideas need to be evoked. Let us 
 
DIFFICULTY OF FUNCTIONING 261 
 
 illustrate exactly what happens. That which we use for work 
 is not at all a single idea which is illuminated for a moment and 
 is quickly extinguished, like someone who has only one gas jet 
 which he successively lights and extinguishes. In reality every 
 work supposes a considerable number of ideas which have some- 
 times been called a constellation. For an instant we have need 
 for example, of idea 1; then, to continue the work commenced, 
 1 must be echpsed and ideas, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, quickly illuminated; 
 then one returns to 1, then one has need of 7 and of 8; then they 
 are extinguished and one lights 2, 3, 4, etc. So the work goes 
 on by successive extinguishings and re-lightings which require 
 that the whole range of ideas remain ready for active service; 
 this is what assures the continuity of work, and what g.ves us 
 the impression of its continuity notwithstanding the discontinuity 
 of the hghting; it is this which permits a certain direct on to 
 be followed continually, a theme to be developed in all its rami- 
 fications. To sum up, this is the important phenomenon of vhich 
 the cases heretofore studied have given us only slight examples. 
 It is this broad sense which must be given to the phenomenon 
 of evocation of the states of consciousness. And consequeii|bly, 
 when we say that the work of evocation is imperilled in paraliftic 
 dementia, it is as if we said that the whole operation of thought 
 is rendered difficult. 
 
 But we must go farther. Upon the whole, evocation is oily 
 one example of mental functioning and however important tHs 
 may be it does not include all the rest. Mental functioning sub- 
 poses many other forms of activity. There exists not only ii 
 evocation of the states of consciousness, but besides an acquisi- 
 tion, a fixation of these states; and when they are evoked theV 
 must be worked over, that is to say, compared, judged, com^ 
 bined, ampHfied, or on the contrary analyzed, reduced, or per4 
 haps contradicted, r^atraHzed or inhibited. Why should the 
 reproduction of *^^^ states of consciousness be the only disordered! 
 part in all tie mental mechanism? There is no reason to admit it, \ 
 On thp contrary, there is reason to suppose that our subjects 
 are affected in all their mental operations whatever they may be. 
 
 To shorten ths demonstration we shall cite only one weU 
 known example; it is the diflSculty which a general paralytic 
 experiences m fking new impressions. All ahenists know, that 
 they learn poorly. We give a simple test, which very clearly 
 
262 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 illustrates this difficulty. Using a red crayon we draw a head 
 on a large sheet of white paper placed before the patient. When 
 it is finished we say, "This is Ernest." Then by its side we 
 draw another figure, using a blue crayon and say, "This is Louis." 
 Lastly we draw a third with a black crayon and say, "This is 
 Antoine." Then repeating we say, "This is Ernest, this is 
 Louis, th's is Antoine. Pay attention to the names what I 
 give then, Ernest, Louis, and Antoine." In this way we have 
 named eich figure three times in succession and each time the 
 figure was pointed out. If one plays this little game with a 
 general paralytic one will be surprised at the difficulty that the 
 patient finds in retaining these three names and in applying them 
 correctly. Thus Philippon, the woman with a level of nine years, 
 canno'- recall anything after the first instruction which, as we 
 have said, consists in naming the figures to her three times. 
 After a second lesson composed like the first of three namings 
 she nakes a mistake and names them in the following order, 
 LouB, Ernest, Antoine. It requires a third lesson similar to 
 the two preceding ones for the three figures to be finally named 
 cor'ectly. 
 
 ^amse, another general paralytic a little lower than the pre- 
 cecing having a level of seven years, fails still more strikingly. 
 
 Af:er the first lesson she says, "Very well, Louis, Antoine How 
 
 about it? Joseph! " The name of Joseph has not been 
 
 spken. After the second lesson she is sure that she can repeat 
 
 it correctly, she says, "Sure enough, Antoine How about 
 
 it? What is his name? I don't remember." After a third 
 lesson, she says, "Louis, Antoine Yes, his name is Antoine." 
 
 Without further comment, and without the necessity for bring- 
 Tig in terms of comparison, it is evident that these defects in 
 exact repetition after so many lessone, denote a profound weaken- 
 ing of the memory for acquired knowledge. The task to be 
 performed was not only the conservation of se^o^ai impressions, 
 it was also necessary not to become confused, bui, to give the 
 correct name to each figure; we demanded af the meinory a 
 certain gymnastic feat which is evidently very easy for an adult, 
 or for a child of nine years, but which is singuhrly embarrassing 
 for our subjects. We have reproduced this sample at some 
 length in order to show that the phenomena of deficiency in 
 these paralytics extends not to evocation alone, thfc.t evocation 
 
DIFFICULTY OF FUNCTIONING 263 
 
 is only one example, which in fact we offer because it is clear, 
 precise, and easily demonstrable; but we willingly admit — al- 
 though the proof has not been rigorously made — that among gen- 
 eral paralytics all forms of intellectual functioning are affected. 
 
 Will it be possible to indicate further how this is true, and in 
 what the difficulty, the obstacle consists? 
 
 For a long while we have meditated upon these facts; and at 
 first we beheved that we could explain all the psychology of 
 general paralysis by a diminution of voluntary effort. We said 
 repeatedly that what is characteristic of the general paralytic 
 is the impossibility of making an effort. This explanation seems 
 to us now only partially correct; we take it up here only to pass 
 beyond it. 
 
 At first sight one sees clearly that many of the tests in which 
 the patients fail demand a slight effort; thus it requires an effort 
 to count backwards or to work rapidl/ either in counting figures 
 or in turning a handle. On the otlier hand it is particularly 
 when one creates a slight difficulty for them that their intellectual 
 incapacity shows itself. If one is coatented with carrying on a 
 colorless conversation with them, sudi as many people use while 
 visiting, talking of nothing but the weather or the servants, they 
 can reply to such commonplace renarks by others which are of 
 equal value, for such remarks belong to their level, but in reality 
 they cannot make an effort. 
 
 Let it be understood also that if tiey are prevented from mak- 
 ing an effort, it is not because of a .pecial attitude of the will or 
 of the character; they are neither mlky, stubborn, nor peevish 
 like certain of our imbeciles who positively refuse to submit 
 to our experiments when they coull easily execute them if they 
 were only willing. Nor do they reemble those other imbeciles 
 who, because of a feeling of defeence do their best like good 
 children. The parfiJytic ordinarily shows neither willingness nor 
 annoyance, b"^ rather a very partiular mental state of indiffer- 
 ence wbJ^£i is sui generis in this particular malady. 
 
 But in order to explain all that takes place in them it is not 
 sufficient to assert that they are powerless to make an effort. 
 That would be an error of interpretation. The effort is nothing 
 else than an additional apparatus which gives more power to 
 the intellectual machine, as the ad/ancing of the spark is a par- 
 
264 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 ticular condition which gives more speed to an automobile. 
 But one uses these reinforcements only when there is an unusual 
 object to conquer; under ordinary conditions the intelligence 
 functions without effort. But just so with our dements the ordi- 
 nary conditions do not suffice because what is easy for a normal 
 has become difficult for them. Let us recall the examples that 
 we have given before. The citation of proper names and of 
 fio-ures which comes at the first call of a normal memory is no 
 longer possible with them; the dividing of the attention between 
 two diferent elements, for example the color and the value of 
 a card, can no longer be made; the memory of a sentence is dis- 
 turbed if we merely dictate a new portion while the subject is 
 finishing the writing of the first part. 
 
 These are failures of evocation and not disturbances in the 
 production of effort. In order to agree with our previous ex- 
 planation it would, however, be correct to say, that among para- 
 lytic dements the faculty of evocation functions with difficulty; 
 and that because of some aggravating circumstance the faculty 
 of effort, which might serre to compensate for this difficulty 
 of functioning, is often equally affected which renders the case 
 irremediable. All this reninds one of a village where there 
 is not only a fire, but where 1he firemen are absent. The disaster 
 is doubled, but the direct ause is the fire; the absence of the 
 firemen only aggravates it. 
 
 The correctness of our interpretation is proved by what hap- 
 pens to our patients when ther chance to be still capable of effort. 
 Thus, Jonas, an aged womai who seems intelligent in spite of 
 her decay, confided to us om day something of which we give 
 the exact reproduction: "I hive to take great pains," she said, 
 "when I try to remember -what day it is," and again: "You 
 must believe that I do all I c?i. It makes me angry that I can- 
 not overcome it this ap^hy." There is with her then a 
 
 slight power of effort, or the idea of effort, the willingness to 
 try, but that is not sufficien; her effort cannot conquer that 
 state which she calls apathy aid which in our opinion constitutes 
 an inertia of functioning. Tlis proves therefore that it is not 
 alone by the absence of effort t^at these patients are characterised. 
 The absence of effort when it t)ccurs, as it very frequently does, 
 only aggravates the inertia [)f functioning which constitutes 
 the essential character of the mentality of general paralytics. 
 
DIFFICULTY OF FUNCTIONING 265 
 
 Is this term inertia exactly correct? This is the last question 
 that we shall discuss in this chapter. For those who have read 
 attentively what we have written there can be no doubt. The 
 troubles revealed so far with our patients consist especially in 
 not doing any one thing, or in doing it incompletely, or in making 
 mistakes in doing it, or in doing it with an excessive slowness; 
 all of this is expressed exactly by the term inertia. And the 
 word seems all the more fitting because so many of the patients 
 have a heavy, stupid look with slow gestures, thick speech, 
 and inexpressive countenance, and they appear fatigued, al- 
 though when questioned upon this point they assure us that they 
 are not tired and even that they never feel so. All these facts 
 harmonize and it seems to us that we may well apply to these 
 functional troubles the term inertia. 
 
 Nevertheless we find many patients who do not at all corre- 
 spond to this conception ; they are those who have delirious ideas 
 and who fabricate a great number of them and who therefore 
 show a strong intellectual activity. Delirium is suflSciently 
 frequent among general paralytics for certain authors to believe 
 themselves justified in describing this delirium as a representa- 
 tion of their mental state. ^ It would seem difficult, at least at 
 first sight, to admit that a delirious patient has functional inertia. 
 
 Here is Ramonot, a young man of about twenty-five years 
 of age, who is worthy of being studied at length; let us interrupt 
 ourselves to examine him in detail. The first time that we saw 
 him he overflowed with satisfaction seating himself squarely 
 in his chair, tipping himself backwards and twisting his thumbs 
 while regarding us with a gleam in his black eye. 
 
 Q. What have you to tell us? 
 
 A. Always fortune in abundance. Always happy. What would you 
 have. One always turns them (the thumbs). There is nothing else to 
 do to be happy. Always in the thirty million who smile at you 
 
 It is his favorite idea that he is soon to be decorated by FalHeres. 
 We try to make him talk freely upon this theme while we confine 
 
 « Let it be said in passing, there is here an error. The delirious con- 
 ceptions of a general paralytic are quite in harmony with the mental state 
 by their incoherent and often childish character; but their description 
 cannot replace that of the mental state which we have given; they are a 
 manifestation, a product of that mental state, they are not the state itself. 
 
266 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 ourselves to listening; he speaks slowly, searches a little for words 
 and a good deal for his ideas. 
 
 Q. What are you going to do? 
 
 A. Well, we are going to march according to honor all over Europe, 
 we are very good friends, very good friends, from all countries. We can 
 march with head erect, with high hats. I do not know how to wear a 
 high hat, I am going to wear a soft hat, because a soft hat is more becom- 
 ing to me than a high hat. One always smiles, always. When one feels 
 
 that everybody adores you that makes you happy oh! that good M. 
 
 Fallieres. I want him to sign next to me. Mine is the last signature 
 
 It is he who is going to decorate me. And you know that everybody is 
 
 happy. I press to my heart the Cross of the Legion of Honor on my 
 
 heart — when he says, "The powers which devolve upon me." He will 
 not embrace me but his heart will be in it etc., etc. 
 
 Upon our invitation the patient is pleased to dictate to us a 
 letter to Fallieres. Here it is reproduced exactly. 
 
 Monsieur le President Fallieres; 
 
 I thank you for all the goodness which you have shown me. I am happy 
 to have the good wishes which you have shown me in your company, as 
 have all the Presidents of the Republic who are happy to have me in their 
 power. And I will always do my duty towards all the comrades who are 
 
 under our orders and all the people are happy to amuse themselves 
 
 with the thirty millions of which we are in possession, everybody will 
 be happy, will dance, will ride on bicycle m,Orning and night; and as soon 
 as we are returned from the bicycle ride we will have a good meal, and 
 after the meal we will dance until we receive further orders and then we 
 will continue during the whole year; we will attend the vintage, we will 
 drink good wine, we will all go up into the vat, and so there will be no 
 need of a wine press (he laughs) to take the grapes and we will taste the 
 good wine, and after each meal we will take a glass of wine of cod-fish 
 which will do us enormous good. I am happy for the decoration which 
 I have the pleasure of wearing, I greet cordially all the Presidents of the 
 Republic and with all my heart. Also signed: all the Presidents of the 
 Republic. — Ramomot Louis. 
 
 At another time we wished to arouse some doubts in his mind 
 concerning the object of his delirium or to scrutinize the reasons 
 upon which he bases his belief in this story of his decoration. 
 
 The following dialogue takes place: 
 
 Q. You have seen Fallieres? 
 
 A. I have always been in his service. From the time I was born I 
 was always in his service. 
 
 Q. As domestic? 
 
 A. (In nowise offended) As friend, as president and for my goodness 
 he decorated me with the greatest decoration and the same for all my 
 brothers. 
 
DIFFICULTY OF FUNCTIONING 267 
 
 Q. But you, have you seen him? 
 
 A. Yes absolutely. 
 
 Q. Where did you see him? 
 
 A. At Longchamps where every one passes. 
 
 Q. But did he speak to you? 
 
 A. Like a brother. 
 
 Q. To you? 
 
 A. Personally. 
 
 Q. At Longchamps? 
 
 A. At Longchamps. 
 
 Did he then have hallucinations? 
 
 Q. You believe that? 
 
 A. And even last year I found myself face to face with him in the woods. 
 
 Q. And then? 
 
 A. And then I applauded. 
 
 Q. Did he get down from his carriage to speak to you? 
 
 Listen to his reply. 
 
 A. I did not have that trouble because after the offerings I made him 
 that went from my place to his. 
 
 Q. Did he shake hands with you? 
 
 A. Never. 
 
 He is frank. There was no hallucination. 
 
 Q. But how do you know he is going to decorate you? 
 
 A. By the praises he has given me. And it is because of this that he 
 gives me the decoration that I merit and my certificate of good conduct. 
 And the flag will not be forgotten. 
 
 Q. But how do you know it. Has he told you? 
 
 A, He has not told me personally. 
 
 Q. How do you know it then? 
 
 A. By the tone of his voice. When he reads that to the people 
 
 Q. What? 
 
 A. He will proclaim it to all the soldiers. 
 
 Q. But suppose you are deceived? 
 
 A. Oh! I do not believe it. With friends like you, I do not believe it. 
 
 His amiability extends to us even when we contradict him. 
 
 Q. And if Fallieres did not decorate you? 
 
 vi. Oh! I don't doubt that. I am persuaded because the crosses are 
 already upon his desk. 
 
 Q. You have seen them? 
 
 A. Oh! no, but I see them from here. 
 
 Q. That is indeed a proof. 
 
 A. I see all the crosses lined up. 
 
 Q. But really, you are not sure? 
 
 A. Certain. 
 
 Q. (To Dr. Simon who is present.) That is very well organized. 
 
 A. It could not be better organized. 
 
 Q. But you have not seen them, the crosses? 
 
 A. Gentlemen my friends, you have seen them as I have. And you 
 
268 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 too will have one of them. And we will pass at Longchamps before the 
 soldiers. 
 
 Q. I also? 
 
 A. Oh! everybody. All the staff officers. 
 
 Q. Even the dogs? 
 
 He does not see the absurdity of the idea. 
 
 A. The dogs too the dogs are friends. 
 
 Q. There will be a tiny decoration for them, too? 
 
 A. Little bows. We will be in line. 
 
 Q. But come now, the decorations, you have not seen them, it is an 
 idea you have in your head? 
 
 A. It is an idea of grandeur. 
 
 Let us try to batter down his idol. 
 
 Q. Fallieres is ugly! 
 
 A. He is ugly, but he is good as milk. 
 
 Q. When he gets angry he breaks everything. 
 
 A. He must not break the decoration, that's sure! 
 
 Q. What would you do? 
 
 A. I would weep. 
 
 Q. And afterwards? 
 
 A. Oh, well, I would laugh. 
 
 One can see here a curious character, the disconnected nature of the 
 emotional life of the invalid. 
 
 Q. You are too young to be decorated. 
 
 A. But I have a good heart. It is there. 
 
 Q. Why do you say that your heart is good? 
 
 A. Because it is my mother who made it. 
 
 Q. But how does it happen that it is good? 
 
 A. Everybody loves me 
 
 Q. Come, come! You do not believe all you have told me? 
 
 A. (with irony) Of course not. It is a dream. 
 
 Q. It is all humbug? 
 
 A. It is all humbug! 
 
 And as an attendant whom we have called comes to take him 
 away, he says to him graciously, while showing him his trousers 
 which are falling, "Button me up, my old fellow." 
 
 This happy man has a level of nine years and, it may be said in 
 passing, one can see that his delirium has nothing to do with his 
 level ; some of our patients have no delirium although they have a 
 level very inferior to nine years. 
 
 The letters dictated by this Ramonot remind us by their em- 
 phatic tone, by their basis of self-love, by the slowness of their 
 delivery, of the discourse of our imbecile Cabussel which we have 
 already published (see p. 80.) These lucubrations and these 
 witty conversations, however poor in ideas, suppose always a 
 
DIFFICULTY OF FUNCTIONING 269 
 
 certain intellectual activity. Moreover, Ramonot talks with 
 considerable fluency upon all subjects. One may see in this a 
 certain objection to our theory. We might ask ourselves how can 
 this intellectual activity be reconciled with the symptoms which 
 we hold as characteristic of functional inertia. Inertia and ac- 
 tivity, are they not contradictory? Yes, they are contradictory 
 but not incompatible. Many observations have shown us that 
 these are two symptoms which can be neighbors in the same mind. 
 Exactly what is functional inertia? It is a hindrance, a grain of 
 sand, the lack of oil in the wheels of a machine. The intellectual 
 activity, to continue the metaphor, is the force which is apphed to 
 this machine and which should be given out again; one can easily 
 conceive that great force may be applied to a machine and that 
 nevertheless, the machine is hindered by a resistance produced 
 by the poor condition of its parts. But one of the most curious 
 facts that we have observed in the course of our studies upon the 
 insane is that when there is a diminution of the power of function- 
 ing they are unable to solve the more complicated problems al- 
 though they can still do the simpler ones. With the use of our 
 measuring scale we can easily perceive this. Let us cite examples. 
 A little imbecile shows ill will in regard to us ; she is pouty, sullen, 
 scarcely replies, and is always anxious to get away from us; This 
 girl still does the simplest tests, those of four or five years for 
 instance ; but she will not do those of seven or eight years although 
 she is capable of doing them; consequently her ill humor pro- 
 duces an apparent lowering of her level. Another example. We 
 recall a melancholy patient who, at the moment of our examina- 
 tion, was a prey to a violent moral affliction; we were able, how- 
 ever, to distract her from it for a few moments and she consented 
 to reply to some simple tests; but as we passed to more difficult 
 tests she had more trouble and finally ended in failure; a week 
 later when the crisis of her attack was over we saw her again and 
 when we measured her intellectual level we were surprised to find 
 it higher. The hysterical attack of this melancholia patient has 
 then produced the same result as the ill humor of the imbecile, an 
 apparent lowering of the level. The result comes from a dy- 
 namic action, an inhibition. Among general paralytics the action 
 is of a different nature; it is not temporary, but permanent; it is 
 not suspended but destructive since they are incurable. But 
 setting aside these differences the law remains the same and this 
 
270 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 law may be expressed in the following manner. When some dis- 
 turbance occurs in the mental functioning, either under the in- 
 fluence of ill humor or chagrin, or the material process of decay, 
 this trouble manifests itself by an impossibility of solving the 
 more complicated problems while the simpler problems still re- 
 main attainable. 
 
 Starting from this point it is easy to understand what takes place 
 when a dement begins his ravings; the fabrication of his delirium 
 implies that a certain intellectual activity sets the wheels of his 
 machine in motion, but this activity is counteracted by inertia 
 and the subject remains incapable of solving complicated problems; 
 however, under the influence of this spur he will produce very simple 
 intellectual results ; for example, he will follow elementary associa- 
 tions of ideas, he will always discuss the same projects, repeat the 
 same words and the same sentences. His intelligence is, as it 
 were, divided into two parts; there is inertia for all that is com- 
 plicated and on the contrary superactivity for all that is easy.^ 
 
 * Let us prevent any misunderstanding; in speaking of functional inertia 
 we study the symptoms only from the psychological point of view and 
 without being unaware that these may be caused by anatomical lesions. 
 We might be misunderstood, for in the habitual clinical language the 
 troubles called functional are the troubles where there are no observable 
 anatomical lesions. Also to avoid any misunderstanding we have employed 
 the terms lack of functioning rather than those of functional disturbances. 
 But after these explanations there can remain no doubt as to the meaning 
 of the words which we have employed. 
 
III. DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE TWO NOTIONS OF 
 FUNCTIONING AND OF DEVELOPMENT 
 
 1. The mentality of the dement compared with that of 
 THE DEFECTIVE. This chapter is a logical and necessary supple- 
 ment to the preceding. We are attempting to introduce into 
 psychology a new idea, a distinction not previously made or 
 only verbally made between the functioning of the intelligence 
 and the development of the intelligence.^ 
 
 The problem would indeed be very difficult to solve if it were 
 put in abstract terms; fortunately for us we can materialize it in 
 our own patients. In the pages which follow it will suffice for 
 us to demonstrate the psychological difference between the de- 
 ment and the imbecile because, as we see it, the chief lack of the 
 dement is in intellectual functioning and of the imbecile is in 
 intellectual development. 
 
 It is evidently necessary to distrust appearances and particu- 
 larly to discern the true value of the symptoms. All that we have 
 described as disturbances of functioning appears trivial enough and 
 even so general that it seems impossible to imagine anything else 
 as intellectual disturbances through defect. In the first place 
 have we not all of us experienced these various disturbances? 
 Who is there among us who, distracted or fatigued, has not ex- 
 
 ' We exaggerate perhaps when we say in the text that, up to the present 
 time, no alienist has contrasted the lack of functioning of the intelligence 
 and the lack of development. These expressions are not new. Recently 
 an alienist remarked nearly the following: that which is a loss or an im- 
 poverishment in a dement is a lack of acquisition and of development with 
 born defectives. Furthermore this terminology only gives a clear expres- 
 sion to ideas already very ancient and very reasonable as to the relation 
 between mental defect and dementia; but it does not go farther than the 
 metaphor which sees in the defective a person born poor never having 
 acquired anything, and in the dement, a rich person who has lost his 
 possessions and who is consequently impoverished. Under our pen these 
 expressions acquire a new sense, because they are the result of observations 
 and experiments which we reproduce in detail, and which show with pre- 
 cision the difference between functioning and development. 
 
 271 
 
272 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 perienced those states where one passes over words in writing, 
 where one feels a proper name escaping him at the moment of a 
 pressing need to speak it, or where one fails to grasp the meaning 
 of a sentence which he hears, where one makes errors of addition or 
 loses himself in a problem? This is very common. But there is 
 even a stronger objection. Do we not encounter among the im- 
 beciles themselves these same troubles of evocation which we have 
 analysed among general paralytics? Imbeciles also have difficulty 
 in acting quickly, in counting backward, and are embarrassed by a 
 problem ; they also make at times incongruous replies, and are even 
 guilty of greffage (grafting). 
 
 There is a certain test of an essentially functional nature, the 
 arrangement of weights, which presents so much difficulty for 
 general paralytics that one would be tempted to recommend it to 
 practitioners as a test to detect slight cases of insanity or its be- 
 ginnings, which would be very useful indeed in these cases, but 
 when one tries this test oij imbeciles they also fail equally with 
 dements. Therefore, since this is true, we are certainly going to 
 be asked what clear, palpable, evident difference could be given 
 between the imbecile and the dement, and how could this differ- 
 ence enable us to understand the distinction which we propose 
 to estabhsh between intellectual development and intellectual 
 functioning? 
 
 A preliminary remark is necessary to the effect that the reason 
 a general paralytic fails in a test is not the same as for an imbecile. 
 The practical result is the same; it is failure but the cause is dif- 
 ferent. Thus when an imbecile fails to name the colors correctly, 
 when he calls red, blue and yellow, green, it is generally because 
 he does not know the names of the colors, or because he knows 
 then insufficiently and his n'importequisme is the result of his 
 ignorance. With a dement we shall have the same errors of nam- 
 ing, but the subjects knows the names of the colors very well and 
 his errors are made not because of his ignorance but in spite of his 
 knowledge. The same is true in naming cards; the errors of the 
 imbecile are those of ignorance; those of a paralytic dement can 
 not be explained by ignorance because by exciting him, by urg- 
 ing him forcibly, we can succeed in making him name them cor- 
 rectly. In the same way when an imbecile fails in counting cor- 
 rectly a small sum of money, it is either because he does not know 
 the series of figures or because he does not know how to apply 
 
MENTAL DEFECTIVE VS. DEMENT 273 
 
 them ; it is always ignorance under one form or another. Our de- 
 ment on the contrary knows how to count but in spite of his 
 knowledge he becomes confused. 
 
 Is the difference which we attempt to bring out between these 
 two mental states after all very important? Perhaps it will be 
 thought not. It can be summed up in the contrast between 
 knowledge and power. But it may be said this difference exists 
 among all of us; knowledge is a great circle and power is a very 
 much smaller circle which is inscribed within the other. In less 
 metaphysical terms we always know much more than we have 
 power to perform. A child must thoroughly know the rule of the 
 agreement of participles in order to apply it easily ; and yet many 
 years may pass during which he has been able to recite the rule 
 glibly while all the time making a host of errors of agreement 
 when writing. We are all children in this respect. In its appli- 
 cation we are always inferior to the lesson which we have learned 
 and which we can recite. 
 
 We reply to this objection that it is true, only there is an im- 
 portant difference of degree which we must take into account. 
 If the distance between knowledge and power is great for all of us, 
 it becomes enormous in general paralytics because they are hardly 
 able to perform the hundredth part of what they know. A case 
 in point, previously reported at length, is that of the patient to 
 whom it was necessary to repeat six times in succession, using dif- 
 ferent terms each time, the mechanism of the act of counting 
 backwards. And yet she knew how to count backwards as the 
 event fully proved. 
 
 2. Two PRACTICAL CHARACTERISTICS BY WHICH TO DISTINGUISH 
 THE MENTAL DEFECTIVE FROM THE DEMENT. From this point of 
 
 view, two practical signs result whose use we recommend in the 
 clinic in order to make the distinction between the mentality of a 
 defective and that of a general paralytic. 
 
 In the first place, that which distingushes the ignorance of the 
 imbecile from the functional inertia of the dement is that with the 
 latter the failures and the errors have a remarkable degree of 
 inconsistence, which indicates disturbances, accidents, while the 
 negative results of the imbecile present on the contrary consid- 
 erable consistency, something which is not a disturbance but is the 
 expression of the limit of his mind. In fact we have seen certain 
 dements fail before some difficulty and five minutes later triumph 
 
274 
 
 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 over it brilliantly. It is the same for their disturbances of articu- 
 lation. Give them a word difficult to pronounce, they fail; then 
 at a moment when one expects it least they pronounce it without 
 difficulty. From this come many surprises. We wish to demon- 
 strate that a certain general paralytic always errs in counting 
 money. He is asked to count twenty sous, and this time he does 
 so correctly, without a single mistake. This is quite embarrass- 
 ing for a demonstration. In a general way one can hardly foresee 
 how such a one is going to conduct himself. 
 
 FIG. 22. MME. SOLAS. GENERAL PARALYTIC. 
 
 The second distinctive sign between the mentality of an imbecile 
 and that of a general paralytic is furnished by the consideration of 
 the intellectual level. It is in fact by relation to their level that 
 one must judge of the importance of the phenomena of deficiency 
 which they present. The errors committed by an imbecile are not 
 surprising since his intelligence is so limited. On the contrary the 
 
MENTAL DEFECTIVE VS. DEMENT 275 
 
 errors of a paralytic are at variance with his level. Thus Albert, 
 an imbecile of five years, can not correctly name the colors; that 
 is not surprising for it belongs to a child of five years; we have 
 seen the paralytic. Colon, formerly a house-painter, call blue 
 green, and yellow blue; these are errors which surprise us be- 
 cause Colon has a level of ten years; the error under these condi- 
 tions is not justified by the level; it has an unusual character. 
 
 We could give here numerous examples of failures of general 
 paralytics which have this striking character of being out of rela- 
 tion to their level, but we prefer to limit ourselves to one particu- 
 cal case and develop it fully. Here is the history of a patient 
 whose intellectual level is still good and nevertheless what diffi- 
 culties of functioning are perceived when she is closely examined! 
 
 Madame Solas is a woman of forty-five years who has a calm, 
 serene, almost indifferent aspect. Her physiognomy is but slightly 
 expressive. Her voice is weak, her gestures slow. Her speech 
 presents the peculiar difficulties of articulation which are char- 
 acteristic of general paralysis. To the questions asked her she 
 replies with exactitude, with good sense, often even with witti- 
 cisms; this indicates that the intelligence has held itself well; 
 one would almost have the feeling that she is normal if precise 
 tests did not prove her decay. We will let her talk a little. 
 
 Q. What is your name? 
 
 A. Blanche Gaudis. 
 
 Q. And your first name? 
 
 A. Blanche Solas Blanche. (She spells her first name.) 
 
 Q. And your age? 
 
 A. Forty. I shall be forty-five the 18th of February forty-four at 
 
 least. I am stupid. 
 
 Q. Why? 
 
 A. I was born in 66. (If she was born in 66, as it is now 1907, she would 
 be forty-one. Already we have difficulties and errors of evocation.) 
 
 Q. Is it old or young to be forty-four years old? 
 
 A. What is that, monsieur? 
 
 A little psychic deafness. 
 
 Q. The question is repeated. 
 
 A. Oh, I don't know, it is enough for me. 
 
 Q. Would you like to be seventy-five? 
 
 A. Oh no! too old. What for? I couldn't. 
 
 Q. What couldn't you? 
 
 A. I could not be that old. I couldn't endure it. 
 
 Q. Yqu would rather be dead? 
 
 A. Oh! surely. 
 
276 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 Q. Were you young once? 
 
 A. (With a smile) Oh! I suppose like everyone else. 
 
 Here we have intelligent reflection. 
 
 Q. How old is one at twenty? 
 
 A. At twenty years? Twenty years. (The smile continues.) 
 
 Q. What has been your profession? 
 
 A. Embroiderer. 
 
 Q. How much does one earn at that trade? 
 
 A. I earned a living once. 
 
 Q. And now? 
 
 A. Now it is lost. Like all the rest. 
 
 Q. But how much money could you make at your trade of embroidery? 
 
 A. Three or four francs. 
 
 Q. By the day or the week? 
 
 A. By the day. 
 
 Q. How much did that make a week, three francs a day? 
 
 A. That made eighteen francs a week. 
 
 All this was correct. 
 
 Q. Were you married? 
 
 A. Yes, monsieur. 
 
 Q. What does your husband do? 
 
 A. He is dead. I am a widow. 
 
 Q. What did he do when living? 
 
 A. A hatter. (Chapelier.) 
 
 Q. He built chapels (chapelles) then? 
 
 A. A hatter I say! hats! You are making fun of me. 
 
 Q. No, I am a butcher, so I understand nothing about hats. 
 
 A. Well, its different. 
 
 Q. Your husband's name? 
 
 A. Peau. 
 
 Q. Did you have any children? 
 
 A. No, sir, I never had any. 
 
 Q. They are dead? 
 
 A. Yes, sir, they were dead when born. 
 
 Q. You have had two? 
 
 A. Ah! I only had one. 
 
 Q. What is the year we are in now? 
 
 -4. I do not know, I hardly know how I live. 
 
 Q. Think! 
 
 A. Ah! I know nothing. I have no memory. (She makes no efifort 
 to remember; it is very singular that with the succession of reasonable 
 answers which she had just given, she confesses to such a lack of orienta- 
 tion.) 
 
 Q. You have no memory? 
 
 A. None whatever. 
 
 Q. Why do you say that? 
 
 A. Because I see it, monsieur. I have noticed it more than onee. I 
 have none at all. 
 
MENTAL DEFECTIVE VS. DEMENT 277 
 
 Q. What is it you forget? 
 A. Everything. 
 Q. Give an example. 
 
 A. For instance, my pocketbook. I would leave it on the table. Ten 
 seconds later I would have forgotten where it was. 
 Q. And what else do you forget? 
 A. (With irony) Well, my head on my shoulders. 
 Q. You have lost much money in that way? 
 A. No, because some one took care of it for me. 
 
 These are characteristic disturbances of the memory, of evoca- 
 tion. They are conscious. The patient perceives them and 
 passes judgment on herself. 
 
 Q. Your mother, is she younger than you? 
 
 A. No. 
 
 Q. Is she older? 
 
 A. She is sixty years old. 
 
 Q. Can a mother be younger than her daughter? 
 
 A. It is comprehensible. (She did not understand the question, and 
 doubtless relied upon the reasonable tone which we employed in question- 
 ing her.) 
 
 Q. But can a daughter be older? 
 
 A. Ah! no! 
 
 The judgment is good. 
 
 Q. So you do not know the year? 
 
 ^. Oh! faith, yes, we are in the year '99. 
 
 Q. Is it winter or summer? 
 
 A. It is summer. 
 
 Q. What month? 
 
 A. June. 
 
 This is nearly correct. 
 
 Q. Name the months of the year. 
 
 A. (She names them correctly.) 
 
 Q. That makes how many? 
 
 A. Oh, I don't know. 
 
 Q. Think again! how many months are there in a year? 
 
 A. 12. 
 
 Note this inertia; she knows but does not attempt to reply. 
 
 Q. Why are you here? 
 
 A. To take care of my health. 
 
 Q. In what way? 
 
 A. My nerves. 
 
 Q. Are you satisfied here? 
 
 A. Yes, monsieur. 
 
 Q. But there are crazy people here? 
 
 A. I do not believe it. There are some, but I am not crazy, not I. 
 
278 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 Q. So it does not annoy you to be with crazy people? 
 
 A. Tliat annoys me because I am very impressionable. (She speaks 
 indistinctly.) I do not speak well. 
 • Q. Still you are satisfied here? 
 
 A. Yes, monsieur, because I hope that you will cure me. 
 
 Q. What was your illness? 
 
 A. It was St. Vitus's dance, monsieur. I had it as a child from a fright. 
 
 Q. So? 
 
 A. Always impressionable. At the least thing, I cry without being 
 able to stop. It is the same with laughing. 
 
 On the whole she is indifferent to her confinement, and there is a 
 curious contrast between this indifference and this emotivity. In 
 reahty everything is ahke to her; nevertheless she is easily affected, 
 she weeps or she laughs at nothing. This seems contradictory, 
 But in the main her tears and smiles are very superficial. This 
 mental state is the rule with general paralytics. 
 
 She is very modest in appearance. Let us see if she has some 
 vanity. 
 
 Q. You have nevertheless some special talents? 
 
 A. Oh! no, monsieur, I have none. 
 
 Q. You are not an ordinary woman? 
 
 A. Surely not. 
 
 Q. You were not bad looking once? 
 
 A. In my time, no. 
 
 Q. You were pretty? 
 
 A. I had like all young girls, la beautS du diable — youth. 
 
 Q. But something of it remains? 
 
 A. I don't know. For all that I could do without it! 
 
 Judgment very good. We did not succeed in. arousing the least 
 feeling of self-importance. 
 
 Here then is the portrait of Madame Solas. All her replies 
 harmonize and are in good order; the mentality does not seem to 
 be at all in ruins. In precise tests she shows the keenness of her 
 intelligence. We ask her to define some words. Certain of her 
 definitions are charming. 
 
 Q. What is a fork? 
 
 A. It is what goes with the spoon. 
 
 Q. What is a mother? 
 
 A. That is the best of all, ah! 
 
 Q. Justice? 
 
 A. Ah! it is great; and injustice, it is greater still. 
 
 A scholar would not disavow such replies. 
 
MENTAL DEFECTIVE VS. DEMENT 279 
 
 Her manner of welcoming pleasantries indicates a clear mind. 
 
 Q. Is snow sometimes red? 
 
 A. Oh! no, it is white. I have never seen it (red) myself. 
 
 Q. What was the color of the white horse of Henry IV? 
 
 A. (Laugh.) What do you ask now, I do not remember, I never saw it. 
 
 Q. But what is there absurd in my question? 
 
 A. (Laughing.) Because it was red. 
 
 This was sufficient to give an idea of the intellectual level of 
 Madame Solas. She is evidently not an imbecile nor even a moron. 
 It is in relation to this mental level that we must judge her disturb- 
 ances of evocation; these disclose a weakness that is truly aston- 
 ishing. Thus she cannot count backwards; she says "20, 17, 19, 
 15" and can go no farther. We try again another day but with 
 no better results. In the same way, although she knows how to 
 count, she makes continual mistakes in counting money or pins. 
 She counts 9 pins where there are only 8. A small sum of 19 
 sous (composed of a 50-centime piece, 4 two-sou pieces, and a 1-sou 
 piece) is too difficult for her; the first time she counts 14 sous and 
 the second 20 sous. 
 
 Another example. Several additions of two numbers of two 
 figures each are proposed to her in writing; the pen is put in her 
 hand and she is told to add. She is willing, but note closely how 
 she performs the operation. 
 
 That it may be well understood we give the details; in the first 
 addition she must add 59 to 73; the two numbers are placed one 
 below the other, the line drawn and thus the way made clear. 
 The patient places the figure 2 under the first column, she has 
 therefore correctly added 9 and 3, finding 12, placing 2, but she 
 must carry the 1 ; now she must add 5 and 7 and add the 1 carried 
 over. This embarrasses her. She prefers not to attempt it and 
 passes to the second addition. There she finds 52 to be added to 
 79; she adds the first column 2 and 9 and finds 11, writes 1; but 
 there is here also 1 to carry over; a new difficulty; she prefers to 
 leave this also and pass to the next addition; here a similar diffi- 
 culty has been arranged, because the numbers were chosen so 
 that there would always be something to carry; she gives this up 
 after adding the first column and passes to the fourth example 
 which meets the same fate as the other. Thus we find her four 
 times in succession passing the difficulty by. One can therefore 
 attribute to her this rule of conduct: "Nothing is impossible to 
 man; that which he cannot do he leaves." 
 
280 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 Her reaction times to sound — the last detail which we cite — are 
 unusually long. She has apparently understood how she must re- 
 spond but she reacts with extreme slowness; we have each time 
 done our best to encourage her to go more quickly; her reaction 
 times are about 50 one-hundredths of a second, while with a nor- 
 mal they are 12 one-hundredths; and when she tries to hasten the 
 movement sJie only gives anticipated reactions. In this respect 
 she is altogether inferior to a certain imbecile named Albert of 
 whom we have elsewhere spoken; Albert has more difficulty in 
 understanding the experiment but when it is understood his reac- 
 tions are quicker and better. 
 
 Thus, as has been clearly shown, the disturbances of function- 
 ing which Madame Solas presents do not belong to her level; 
 they are, so to speak, unworthy of her intelligence ; this is one of the 
 characteristics which these disturbances present among general 
 paralytics and thus provide a means of distinguishing the failures 
 and blunders to which imbeciles are hable. 
 
 3. Residues. We must attempt to specify to some extent what 
 constitutes the contrast which exists between certain defective 
 replies of general paralytics and their level, which is higher or 
 appears to be higher than their replies. The question is very com- 
 plicated in itself and it is further obscured by all that we know of 
 the nature of residues. We must remember that the dement 
 differs from the imbecile by having a past of normal intelligence; 
 and consequently we should expect that instruction and the varied 
 information acquired by the dement would leave some traces in 
 his conversation which would not accord with his present intelli- 
 gence. These evidences of an earlier condition superior to the 
 present are what we call residues. Alienists who question these 
 patients are on the watch for residues which may serve to bring to 
 light the differences which we note between the imbecile and the 
 dement. Perhaps it will be thought that it is to the presence of 
 numerous residues that we owe the contrast which we note among 
 dements between their level and some of their replies. 
 
 This opinion contains indeed a part of the truth; but it must not 
 be exaggerated; or rather we must take into account the quality 
 of the facts which may survive from the earlier epoch. 
 
 We distinguish three elements. 
 
 1. Scholastic knowledge. 
 
RESIDUES 281 
 
 2. General knowledge of practical life. 
 
 3. The form of verbal replies from the point of view of gram- 
 mar and of the vocabulary. 
 
 1. Scholastic knowledge is certainly most lacking among de- 
 ments. We have taken the pains to study their reading, writing 
 and arithmetic, not with any foregone conclusions, which unfortu- 
 nately is too often done and which signifies nothing, but by em- 
 ploying two distinct known quantities; we first take their level of 
 intelligence by means of our measuring scale; afterwards, with 
 some very precise tests of instruction arranged by our collabora- 
 tor M. Vaney, we examine these patients to see if they are equal 
 in reading, writing and arithmetic to normal children of the same 
 level. ^ 
 
 We expected that these tests would enable us to discover many 
 residues. Our error was great. 
 
 It is in reading that they acquit themselves the best. Out of 
 seven patients, five read as well as would be expected from their 
 level; two are a year behind; one is two years ahead, a very ex- 
 ceptional fact; this is Beauchamp, the poor teacher who has 
 fallen to the level of five years; in spite of her profound decay 
 she can still read as one reads at seven years. But note care- 
 fully that what is best retained among these subjects is reading 
 as an exercise of articulation but without the understanding of 
 what they read. Thus we encounter several of these dements 
 who read the selection correctly and fluently enough, but who can 
 tell almost nothing of what they read; they are very inferior to 
 normal children who read less fluently and less correctly than 
 they, but who can retain many facts after the reading is over. 
 
 ^ Since at the present time we are working for the clinic we think it 
 profitable to reproduce the table of tests serving as a measure of the degree 
 of instruction, in order that the clinician may have at hand all that is 
 necessary for him to apply this measure. The table that we give has been 
 devised by M. Vaney; we have already published it in our book Enfants 
 Anormaux.* 
 
 * Editor's Note: English translation Feeble-Minded Children. Pub- 
 lished by Longmans, Green & Co., NeAv York. 
 
282 
 
 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 Reference Table of Pedagogical Examination 
 
 
 DEGREES OP 
 READING 
 
 ARITHMETIC 
 
 TYPE PROBLEMS TO 
 
 DICTATE 
 
 ORTHOGRAPHY 
 
 AGE OP THE CHILDREN 
 
 **- fefl 1 
 
 Type sentence 
 to dictate 
 
 From 6 to 7 years 
 
 Syllabic 
 
 From 19 apples 
 if one takes 6 ap- 
 ples how many will 
 remain? 
 
 16 
 
 
 From 7 to 8 years 
 
 Hesitating 
 
 Subtract 8 sous from 
 59 sous. 
 
 11 
 
 
 From 8 to 9 years 
 
 Hesitating 
 
 From a case of 604 
 
 8 
 
 
 
 fluent 
 
 oranges 58 are 
 sold. How many 
 remain? 
 
 
 "The pret- 
 ty little 
 girls stud- 
 ied the 
 
 
 
 
 
 From 9 to 10 years 
 
 Fluent 
 
 It requires 7 meters 
 to make a dress. 
 How many dresses 
 could be made with 
 89 meters and what 
 would be the 
 length of the rem- 
 nant? 
 
 6 
 
 flowers 
 which they 
 g a t h e red 
 y e s t e r- 
 day" 
 
 From 10 to 
 
 Fluent-ex- 
 
 A workman earns 250 
 
 4 
 
 
 11 years 
 
 pressive 
 
 francs in the 
 month of February 
 which has 28 days. 
 He spends 195 
 francs. How much 
 did he save a day? 
 
 
 
 Writing from dictation, judged by the orthography, is always 
 faulty. The number of errors of spelling and grammar is not at 
 all that of children of the same level; there is a retardation of at 
 least a year and much indulgence is required to record only this dif- 
 ference; it is only by disregarding the numerous lapses which they 
 commit in writing. 
 
 The retardation is still more accentuated in arithmetic; we have 
 studied this by means of the extremely simple problems of the 
 table of M. Vaney; the problem of the apples is a limit very rarely 
 
RESIDUES 283 
 
 attained. Out of five patients studied with the greatest care we 
 observed in one a retardation of one year, in two a retardation of 
 two years, and in two a retardation of three years. Thus Colon, 
 who has the level of ten years, is absorbed for a minute and a half 
 in solving the problem, "If I have 17 apples and I eat 8 of them, 
 how many are left?" And he finds 8 apples. 
 
 The conclusion to be drawn from all this is that, if we employ 
 the method which we have just indicated and which consists in 
 first fixing the intellectual level by a group of tests and then com- 
 paring the scholastic knowledge of the dement with that which 
 normally belongs to his intellectual level, we find a marked re- 
 tardation especially for scholastic problems. This is therefore the 
 exact opposite of residues. Perhaps some one will object to our 
 manner of proceeding; and, while admitting that it is superior to 
 the empirical method of certain alienists, who, struck by the 
 cleverness of a reply, say from intuition "There is a residue!" 
 will perhaps object that our procedure is conventional and conse- 
 quently artificial. Everything depends, he will say to us, upon the 
 way in which you fix the level; if for example you fix it by means 
 of the remnants of instruction that are observed among the pa- 
 tients, all the other tests would be residues; indeed, if a dement is 
 two years retarded in arithmetic, and if you fix his level by that 
 test alone, the result would be that he is advanced for a host of 
 other tests. That is true, only we believe that such a convention 
 would be open to criticism; it seems to us decidedly preferable to 
 fix the level by a group of tests, by the greatest possible number of 
 tests, and by those as varied as possible; this is what we have done 
 and in so far as we are right in so doing we maintain that the 
 instruction in reading, writing or arithmetic would never consti- 
 tute a residue. 
 
 And now one last remark; if reading is better preserved than 
 writing from dictation, and this again better preserved than arith- 
 metic, it is because it contains a greater part of automatic activity. 
 We have noted this singular fact that a dement may read as 
 easily and as fluently as a child of the same level, but he does not 
 understand nor explain his reading nearly so well; it is the differ- 
 ence between an automatic memory and an expression of intelli- 
 gence. These patients are weak in arithmetic because we demand 
 of them the solution of problems, that is to say an exercise of the 
 judgment and not of the automatic memory. By taking another 
 
284 
 
 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 direction and demanding more of their automatic life we should 
 have different results. Thus, certain dements still know their 
 multiplication tables very well; but when memory fails and they 
 try to conceal this lack the errors they make are fantastic. 
 Samse, seven year level, replies thus to our questions. 
 
 QUESTIONS 
 
 ANSWERS 
 
 QUESTIONS 
 
 ANSWEES 
 
 2 and 2? 
 
 3 and 3? 
 5 and 4? 
 9 and 17? 
 
 4 
 
 6 
 
 9 
 
 14 
 
 12 and 12? 
 
 12 and 13? 
 
 13 and 12? 
 
 24 
 16 
 15 
 
 The reply 12 and 12 makes 24 is automatism; while the reply 
 12 and 13 makes 16 is an expression of intelligence in which the 
 subject remembers nothing; this is evidence of what she does when 
 automatism fails her. 
 
 Holeg, level of nine years, shows the same contrast in a still 
 more obvious manner. 
 
 QUESTIONS 
 
 ANSWERS 
 
 TIME 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 seconds 
 
 3 times 3? 
 
 
 
 
 9 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 6 times 6? 
 
 
 
 
 36 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 5 times 7? 
 
 
 
 
 35 
 
 
 
 
 
 2 
 
 8 times 7? 
 
 
 
 
 42 
 
 
 
 
 
 2 
 
 7 times 9? 
 
 
 
 
 36 
 
 
 
 
 
 2 
 
 7 times 9? 
 
 
 
 
 63 
 
 
 
 
 
 3 
 
 8 times 5? 
 
 
 
 
 40 
 
 
 
 
 
 U 
 
 3 times 9? 
 
 
 
 
 27 
 
 
 
 
 
 2 
 
 8 times 8? 
 
 
 
 
 48 
 
 
 
 
 
 2 
 
 8 times 8? 
 
 
 
 
 16 
 
 
 
 
 
 2 
 
 No! 8 times 8? 
 
 
 
 
 48 
 
 
 
 
 
 2 
 
 No! 8 times 8? 
 
 
 
 
 16 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 No! 
 
 
 
 
 8 and 8 are 
 
 16 
 
 
 
 
 
 But 8 times 8? 
 
 
 
 
 48 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 No! 
 
 
 
 
 What? 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 8 times 8? 
 
 Oh— 4 times 8- 
 
 -8 and 8—16 and 8- 
 
 -24 and 8- 
 
 -32 
 
 
 And then? 
 
 8 and 8- 
 
 -16 and— 13 and 8- 
 
 -24— and 8- 
 
 -32 and 
 
 
 
 8- 
 
 -12 and 8- 
 
 -50 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 No, not 50! 
 
 
 
 
 52 
 
 
 
 
 
 
RESIDUES 285 
 
 The example is clear. Having lost the memory of 8 X 8 = 64 
 this patient cannot multiply 8 times 8 and when he tries to do so 
 to repair his failure of memory he commits enormous errors. 
 Here is a curious contrast between automatism and an expression 
 of the intelligence. We terminate therefore this part of our work 
 with the conclusion that their automatism when it is retained is 
 always above their intelligence. 
 
 2. The knowledge of practical life has given rise to the same 
 illusion; to our surprise, we confess, we have not found residues 
 here or indeed but rarely ; and the proof of this is that the dement 
 compared to an imbecile or to a moron of the same level has no 
 greater general knowledge. 
 
 We cite the example of a woman Vigne, who has a level of nine 
 years, and in whom one might expect the conservation of a mass 
 of ideas. She has become very ignorant and does not know 
 how to reply even when asked very easy questions of practical 
 life. 
 
 Q. Where were you born? 
 
 A. At Strasbourg. 
 
 Q. What is your fatherland? 
 
 A. I am French. 
 
 Q. What is the capital of France? 
 
 A. (She limits herself to sticking out her tongue. She does not even 
 know the capital of France. Extraordinary ignorance!) 
 
 Q. What is the capital of France? 
 
 A. I do not know. 
 
 Q. What is it you do not know? (Because we are wondering if she under- 
 stood the question.) 
 
 A. The capital of France. 
 
 Q. And the government of France, what is it? 
 
 A. You ask me too much. 
 
 Q. Is it a kingdom, a republic, an empire? 
 
 A. You ask me too much. 
 
 Q. Is there a king in France? 
 
 A. No. 
 
 Q. An Emperor? 
 
 A. Yes. 
 
 Q. What is his name? 
 
 ^. I do not know. 
 
 Q. What river flows through Paris? 
 
 A. The Seine. There is a place where it is low. 
 
 Q. Did you know Carnot? 
 
 A. I have seen him in a book. 
 
286 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 Q. How did he die? 
 
 A. I have seen his tomb in a book. 
 
 Q. Yes? How did he die? 
 
 A. I do not know. 
 
 Q. And Victor Hugo was 
 
 A. Victor Hugo is also dead. 
 Q. But who was he? 
 
 A. Victor Hugo was Ah, I forget. 
 
 Q. Did you know Pasteur? 
 
 A. A pastor, yes. 
 
 Q. What did you know of Pasteur? 
 
 A. A pastor is a man who is intelligent. 
 
 Q. Have you ever heard of Louis XIV? 
 
 A. I knew Louis XIV, but 
 
 Q. Charlemagne? 
 A. Yes. 
 
 Q. Who was Charlemagne? 
 
 A. An interesting man. I ought to know much about him; I have read 
 that in books. 
 
 But where are her school memories? Where are the snows of 
 last year? 
 
 Q. What is the capital of Italy? 
 
 A. That I don't know. 
 
 Q. What is the Pope? 
 
 A. The Pope is the king of all the world. 
 
 She lived five years in Hyeres, her husband worked at the Seyne. 
 
 We ask her. 
 
 Q. What is the sea called at Toulon? 
 
 A. There is a sea at Toulon, more or less high; sometimes it overflows, 
 and destroys the houses; it goes all the way to Hyeres. 
 
 Q. But what is it called, the sea that bathes Toulon? 
 
 A. The sea of Toulon. 
 
 Let us question her further. 
 
 Q. How much does it cost to send a letter from Paris to Marseilles? 
 
 A. Oh! I never sent a letter from Paris to Marseilles. 
 
 Q. And from Paris to Toulon, how much does that cost? 
 
 A. A letter from Paris to Toulon does not cost much, not more than 5 
 sous. 
 
 Q. How many minutes in an hour? 
 
 A. 12. 
 
 Q. How many days in the year? 
 
 A. There are thirty days in a month. 
 
 Q. But in a year? 
 
 A. Oh, I would have to count that. (She recites the months.) 
 
 Q. That makes? 
 
 A. 10 and 3, 13 months, isn't it? 
 
 Q. But how many days? 
 
RESIDUES 287 
 
 A. Ah — I'd have to count that. I'd have to count by 30. 
 We deem it unnecessary to make her perform this calculation. 
 
 She can no longer recite to the end, "Our Father who art in 
 heaven." Nevertheless, she is not absolutely ignorant; she knows 
 what a dozen eggs cost, a pound of lard, a cutlet, and also where 
 wine and milk come from; she describes fairly well how one fries 
 an egg. 
 
 When one realizes that for thirty years she lived the social life 
 of the world, one can judge of the actual poverty of her ideas. 
 She has no more memories than a moron, for instance Griffon, 
 whose history we have given in a previous article upon the intel- 
 ligence of imbeciles (page 120). In order to be able to judge the 
 value of the practical knowledge of dements we must compare 
 them with imbeciles or morons and not with children of the same 
 level; because imbeciles like dements have had a long past life 
 and in consequence have had an experience which is lacking in 
 children. 
 
 3. The form of verbal replies. If residues of memories 
 do not exist, one must not conclude therefore that all residues 
 are absent in the psychic life of dements; one could not draw 
 such a conclusion because it would be directly contrary to clini- 
 cal experience. Every experienced clinician when in the presence 
 of a dement has had the impression that his mentality is not the 
 same as that of a moron, that it is richer, nobler, more impreg- 
 nated with traces of a previous normal life. This impression 
 cannot be ignored; since it rests upon long experience it must con- 
 tain some truth. After much reflection we have finally reached 
 the following conclusion. Residues certainly exist among dements 
 and they contribute to the production of the contrast, which we 
 have so strongly insisted upon, between their lapses and their 
 level, but we must not search for them where they do not exist. 
 They never result from an expression of the intelligence consist- 
 ing for instance in making a clever remark or in expressing a 
 judicious judgment or, still less, in solving a problem; nor do 
 they consist in conscious memories whose application would 
 demand some intelligence; they consist in the shade of expression 
 and gesture, the form of language, the turn of a phase, the choice 
 of words which are in harmony with a rather high intelligence 
 which today is lost. As a result of this we, the observers, meet 
 with a host of slight perceptions more or less conscious, often 
 badly confused, which reveal the contrast between what the 
 
288 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 dement actually is and what he once was. We could cite cer- 
 tain sentences of a dement the nobility of which has the odor 
 of a normal life and of which an imbecile would be incapable. 
 It is not then by the content of their replies that the dements 
 prove that they have residues, it is rather by the form, so far at 
 least as one is able to separate the word from the thought because 
 the whole is bound together. In general a common thought 
 is not clothed in noble words. 
 
 Thus Beauchamp, who has the level of five years, when asked 
 the trade of her husband cannot surpass the childish and im- 
 becile formula he works. But a few seconds later she gives to 
 another question this remarkable reply, "I do not know what 
 it is that you ivish me to say." It is clear that no child of five 
 years unless it were very precocious would ever construct sen- 
 tences in so complicated a manner. 
 
 Another dement, generally very taciturn, the one who was 
 taken by an expert alienist for an imbecile, replied to the ques- 
 tion, "Are you beautiful or ugly?" — ''You see very well how I am!" 
 And another time she said to us, speaking of her past, "I was 
 very beautiful, I assure you." This form of language is superior 
 to her level which is only that of four years. 
 
 Samse, a paralytic of the level of seven years, also makes 
 reflections whose verbalism is quite superior. 
 
 Q. You have not received any treatment? 
 
 A. Oh, no, only I take wine, good wine that the doctor has ordered for me. 
 So when I leave here, I shall go and buy a quart, because it is good for me. 
 It comes a little dear, but no matter! When one needs care! 
 
 We have put in italics whatever in her reply has seemed to 
 us somewhat superior, the onlys, the ihats, the whens, these words 
 are as it were the aristocracies of language. 
 
 Vigne, whose level is nine years, tries to arrange five boxes 
 in the order of their weight and during the task makes reflections 
 that are worthy of note. "They seem to be all of the same weight. 
 
 Ah! no this one They must be nearly equal. / do not 
 
 believe that I am much mistaken. But it is quite difficult inasmuch 
 as the difference is slight, especially weighing them thus in the 
 hand." Again we put in italics what seems to us of a style superior 
 to her level. 
 
 Philomene, of the nine year level, abounds in sentences which 
 are striking because of their elegance. Speaking of her past 
 
DEVELOPMENT VS. FUNCTION 289 
 
 existence she says, "It is quite a romance, my life!" Describing 
 a picture which represents an old man seated on a bench she says, 
 "Oh! that white beard; how beautiful it is, how respectable!" 
 After reading for us the story of a fire started through carelessness 
 she said, "I cannot understand why anyone should not take 
 more precaution than that." Another time, after having de- 
 scribed with much boasting the talent she had for dressing the 
 hair and for combing out the tangles she said, "And gentle above 
 everything else with so much care and gentleness! Separate 
 the hairs almost one by one with infinite care without annoying 
 the person, etc." 
 
 Perrot, another woman of the level of nine years of whom we 
 ask what is charity, replies, "What is it that you wish me to say? 
 It seems to me that any one who exercises charity does well, 
 because there are so many unfortunates! You should exercise 
 it too, — and look after some poor people." When we have her 
 count some sous on the edge of the table she makes this superior 
 reflection, "This is really child's play!" 
 
 After these examples we can do no more than give our feeling 
 because we have not made the necessary studies of the evolu- 
 tion of language which would permit us to affirm the age to 
 which each grammatical form corresponds. We shall supply this 
 lack when we are able.* For the moment we must be content 
 with saying that in the thoughts, the locutions, the choice of 
 words and the syntax of paral3rtic dements we find very many 
 residues, which consist especially in automatic memories; they 
 are skeletons from which the conscious life has withdrawn. With 
 this point which presents some practical interest we conclude 
 by saying that the inertia of functioning which we observe in 
 general paraljrtics is especially recognized by the contrast which 
 exists between their failures and their intellectual level in so far 
 as one can accurately measure it; and, furthermore, their intel- 
 lectual level appears to be higher than it really is because of the 
 presence of residues, which consist in the verbal form of their 
 replies rather than in the content. 
 
 4. Insufpiciency of development opposed to insuffi- 
 ciency OF functioning. It remains for us now to go a little 
 
 * It is supplied. One of us has just finished a study on the language of 
 children (A. Binet). 
 
290 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 farther and having explained what a disturbance of functioning 
 is, to contrast it with a lack of development. For this we shall 
 speak mainly of imbeciles. Let us employ first of all some 
 metaphors. 
 
 Let us take a watch. In the mechanism of a watch there are 
 two things to consider: first, its degree of complexity; a certain 
 watch indicates only the hour, another indicates the hours and 
 minutes, another adds to this the seconds; second, we must 
 consider the functioning of the watch, that is to say the regularity 
 of its movement, its rapidity, the length of time it can go without 
 being wound up, etc. It is this distinction, which is so clear 
 for a watch or any piece of mechanism, that we are attempting 
 to apply to an intelligence, because it seems to us to be a very 
 convenient illustration by which to express the essential difference 
 which exists between an imbecile and a general paralytic, and 
 the numerous points in which the two resemble each other. The 
 imbecile has an intelligence but slightly developed; it is, as it 
 were, a rudimentary watch which indicates only the hours, but, 
 so far as it goes, this intelligence functions well; every time this 
 intelligence fails before a problem it is through lack of develop- 
 ment. On the contrary, with the general paral3rtic it is always 
 the functioning that is at fault, that is to say the intellectual 
 work. Theoretically, this dement must be considered as an 
 intelligent man who can no longer use his intelligence and whose 
 intelligence betrays him at every moment. 
 
 From this point of view, the distinction between the imbe- 
 cile and the dement is therefore very clear. But exactly what is 
 the development of the intelligence? In what does it consist? 
 Certainly in many things; he would be very daring who tried 
 to define such a complexity with a single word. But we can 
 state what seems to be the most important trait in all mental 
 development and what seems on the contrary the accessory 
 trait. In addition we may note the tendency to organization 
 which is undeniably weaker in the child than in the adult ; witness 
 the inconstancy of the desires, the caprices of ideas, the lack of 
 continuity which we find in a young child. Follow in the street 
 a little school boy going to school and compare the path he 
 follows with that of an adult ; the adult goes more or less directly 
 to his destination while the child takes a zigzag course which 
 shows the insufficiency of his direction and control. Here then. 
 
DEVELOPMENT VS. FUNCTION 291 
 
 in our opinion, is one of the traits of mental development; it 
 produces a better and stronger organisation and consequently 
 it is to be expected that young subjects, who are not yet com- 
 pletely developed, should show signs of a weakness of organisa- 
 tion; in this way they must of necessity slightly resemble general 
 paralytics in whom the insufficiency of direction and control 
 also manifests itself, but as a sign of disorganisation and not as 
 the beginning of organisation. There is not, however, with 
 the child any lack of evocation but rather lack of co5rdination, 
 through the puUulation of ideas and of heteroclitic sentiments. 
 But that which especially and essentially characterizes a men-' 
 tal development is the process of differentiation. If one refers 
 to our chapter upon the Scheme of Thought, which we have in- 
 cluded in our more extensive study of the mental development 
 of imbeciles^ he will find there the law formulated and described 
 according to which a thought develops; it is by the progressive 
 passing from the simple to the complex, from the indefinite to 
 the definite, from the accessory to the essential, a progress thanks 
 to which the thought adjusts itself better and better to its end. 
 The development of intelligence manifests itself therefore in 
 the quality of the states of consciousness. Of two states of 
 consciousness that one is of superior quality which is less simple, 
 less commonplace, less vague, less indeterminate, more definite, 
 more rich, more special; or rather, to take a broader view, the 
 superior state is that which adapts itself the best, the most com- 
 pletely to its environment; but for the adaptation to be as per- 
 fect as possible the thought must reflect at the same time that 
 which is special and essential in the environment in which one 
 acts. A curious experiment that we have often tried with children 
 of all ages, adults of every social condition, imbeciles and morons 
 of every level, and general paralytics of every degree of disor- 
 ganisation shows admirably in what this development consists. 
 We refer to the comments upon pictures. We place before an 
 imbecile and a general paralytic a picture representing two old 
 people in want, stranded upon a bench; one of them is an old man 
 with a white beard and eyes closed; the other, a woman, is lean- 
 ing against him. An imbecile is satisfied with the response, 
 "/i is a man." A general paralytic, impressed no doubt by the 
 
 « L'Annee Psychologique, Vol. XV, 1909, p. 122. 
 
292 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 head and beard of the man, makes this reflection, "One would 
 say Victor Hugo." Who would not perceive the abyss between 
 these two responses; the thought of the imbecile is almost in- 
 determinate ; would apply quite as well, not to say quite as poorly 
 to an immense number of different pictures. It would be well 
 to recall here that we made a collection of some fifteen reproduc- 
 tions of paintings which we showed to our imbeciles and for these 
 pictures they have almost always made the same reply, "It is 
 
 a man — Those are women That is again a man And 
 
 then that is a woman, etc." It would be impossible for one to 
 reproduce the picture from such commonplace indeterminate 
 comments. On the contrary the reflection which compares 
 the old man with the white beard to Victor Hugo is much more 
 complex, much more special; it would apply only to a very small 
 number of pictures. There is here the character of specialty 
 which we consider one of the qualities of intellectual develop- 
 ment. A second character is that of representing what is essen- 
 tial in the reality. Here again the comments upon pictures 
 furnish us with many examples. Many children looking at the 
 pictures are struck by some insignificant detail; they designate 
 first, for example, the branch of a tree instead of the active per- 
 sons and thus subordinate the principal to the accessory, the 
 whole to the part; in the same way dull intelligences take only 
 the immediate appearance of the reality and neglect what they 
 do not see but what is nevertheless of infinitely greater importance. 
 Much might be said upon this subject. 
 
 Combine these two qualities of the states of consciousness and 
 we see that they assure an adjustment of each state of conscious- 
 ness to its own end, that they thus make the theory of adapta- 
 tion enter into an exact conception of intelligence, and that we 
 arrive at a very clear and very satisfactory idea of intellectual 
 development. 
 
 In opposing thus the quality of the states of consciousness with 
 their evocability^" we make a distinction between the develop- 
 
 "* For those who are seeking some synthetic views, we recall that the 
 quality of the states of consciousness or the development of the intelli- 
 gence depends on two factors, invention and judgment; invention corre- 
 sponds to the complexity of the states of consciousness and judgment to 
 their exactness. But we have seen on other occasions that there are two 
 principal intellectual types, the observational and the imaginative, which 
 
DEVELOPMENT VS. FUNCTION 293 
 
 ment of the intelligence and its functioning, and at the same time 
 between the mentality of the imbecile and that of the paralytic; 
 the mentality of the imbecile is composed of simple states of 
 consciousness which are evoked with normal facility; the men- 
 tality of the paralytic is composed of states which are more 
 complex but which have become difficult of evocation. ^^ 
 
 5. For the clinic. We have thus examined our problem 
 placing ourselves first at the theoretical point of view of the 
 psychologist, then at the practical point of view of the physician. 
 It is at this latter point of view that we again place ourselves 
 to ask if the description we have made of the slight psychological 
 signs of dementia^^ and the theories which we have drawn from, 
 them have contributed to the diagnosis of dementia and how far. 
 
 It would seem that we have reached a conclusion which, set- 
 ting aside the difference of language, is equivalent to saying 
 that the paralytic dement presents a weakening of the whole in- 
 telligence; but this is also the conclusion, or to put it better, the 
 quintessence of the classical theory. First let us say in what 
 way we are in perfect accord with this theory, then we shall state 
 how we believe we surpass it. 
 
 In accordance with the classical theory we admit that the 
 
 are distinguished by the predominance of the judgment or of the imagi- 
 nation (see A. Binet Vtltude Experimentale de V Intelligence) . Thus all of 
 those studies hold together and lend mutual support to one another. 
 
 " It is important to define here the point to which we have arrived. 
 Nearly all our study has been made in an oflBce through which the insane 
 patients pass ; we have been able to study these patients only during brief 
 sittings in a consultation room; we have smnmoned them there for certain 
 tests of intelligence; we have not had the means of observing in them the 
 spontaneous phenomena which occur in the life of the asylum and which 
 are the manifestation of their emotivity and of their character. Conse- 
 quently our analysis bears solely upon the functioning of their intelligence. 
 In order to complete it other studies on their character would be neces- 
 sary. We hope soon to have the opportunity of completing it in another 
 hospital; and even at the present time we believe that we see the exact 
 point where additions will be made ; but we are not willing to present any 
 theory without sufficient records and hence, we prefer to postpone the 
 exposition of our views. 
 
 12 It is a fact that the slight psychological signs that we have described 
 have been noted more or less by writers; only they present them in common- 
 place inventory, without giving them any other connection than that of 
 co-existence, while we have sought to classify them, to interpret them, 
 and to make use of interpretation for perfecting their analysis. 
 
294 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 weakening of these patients is global in character; but if we admit 
 it, it is because we have demonstrated it by very different means. 
 For cUnicians the disturbance is global because it is manifested 
 in all the functions, memory, attention, judgment, etc., by means 
 of observations in detail but without connection one with an- 
 other; and because one makes in a way an addition of all these 
 disconnected observations and one sees that in the dement none 
 of the faculties is spared, none functions normally. For us the 
 disturbance is global, because we see that it results from a certain 
 mode of functioning, always the same, which is found in the whole 
 intellectual activity; for us it is an affair of psychological analysis 
 and not an accumulation and a generalization of particular ob- 
 servations; it is, in a word, because dements have a disturbance 
 in evocation and because evocation is the basis of all intellectual 
 work that these patients seem to be affected b}'' a general weaken- 
 ing. It results from this that our interpretation is much more 
 flexible than the classic ; it permits the conception of other forms 
 of global dementia, but they will not be so in the same manner 
 as paralytic dementia, dementias for example where the dif- 
 ferent intellectual functionings are all affected but unequally 
 in degree or differently in quality. It can thus be seen that we 
 give to this expression of global a new sense. 
 
 The same remarks can be made in regard to the term weak- 
 ening. One believes that he understands this word and it seems 
 precise and sufficient, until he takes the pains to analyse it. 
 The analysis which results from the classical theory is extremely 
 incomplete; by intellectual weakening of general paralytics we 
 understand simply a group of errors of memory, of judgment, 
 etc., but there are indeed errors of many sorts; those of general 
 paralytics are not those of epileptics, not those of senile dements. 
 It is true that we say that the errors of general paralytics indicate 
 a demential level. But is this true? The errors of general para- 
 lytics seem rather in contrast than in accord with their level of 
 intelligence. When the patient Philippon, who has a level of 
 nine years, cannot tell the date and we suggest to her, "It is 
 perhaps the 50th" and she replies, "Perhaps it is," the error has 
 not its raison d'etre in the demential level of her disease. Philip- 
 pon is not so low grade since she still retains a level of nine years. 
 We think the error can be explained by a defect of functioning 
 and the absence of evocation; the number 50 has not evoked 
 
DEVELOPMENT VS. FUNCTION 295 
 
 the precise and appropriate idea and consequently has not been 
 judged. And it is this defect of functioning which characterises 
 the errors of these patients. 
 
 The novelty of our point of view in the use of the word weaken- 
 ing can be very easily seen if one recalls the discussions that 
 daily occur in cases where the diagnosis of general paralysis is 
 doubtful. It seems for these authors that the intelhgence is 
 a quantity and that the weakening is only a diminution of this 
 quantity. Thus one often hears this objection to a diagnosis, 
 "But this patient has memory! See all the information he can 
 give. Now Hsten to the reflection which he makes; it proves 
 that he is not lacking in judgment." It would seem that these 
 objections were correct. When a patient furnishes exact informa- 
 tion as to his trade, his income, his first entrance into the asylum, 
 or recalls some event that you yourself have forgotten and which 
 you are obliged to verify, one may recognize in him a general 
 paralytic, but it is not by virtue of the conception which these 
 authors have formed upon the subject of the weakening of the 
 intelhgence, because the conservation of the attention, of judg- 
 ment, of memory, is incompatible with this conception. On 
 the contrary our theory puts us completely at our ease with these 
 embarrassing facts. Dementia is not characterized by a lower- 
 ing of level and the lowering of the level is not sufficient to con- 
 stitute dementia; one does not speak of dementia in melancholia 
 although the intellectual functions are very much diminished. 
 The intelligence of the general paralytic is lowered, disturbed, 
 by accidents which manifest themselves in his functioning, acci- 
 dents which constitute veritable defects. There does not exist 
 in the beginning, for instance, deterioration of judgment, but 
 faults of judgment, repeated accidents, blunders. The inertia 
 of functioning is in the beginning only accidental, hence the con- 
 trast with the whole of the personality; it occurs at intervals 
 very irregularly, and of course it manifests itself particularly 
 in difficult and comphcated cases which demand effort, care, 
 attention to detail; for the diagnosis to be estabHshed it suf- 
 fices that one of these characteristic defects manifests itself 
 clearly. By the repetition, the multiphcation of these defects, 
 we have a lowering of the level, because these defects interfere 
 with and consequently diminish the output of the individual. 
 Compared to each other the imbecile and the dement are 
 
296 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 like two poor walkers who have different reasons for not going 
 a long distance, the imbecile because he has very short legs, 
 the dement because he makes false steps and is constantly- 
 falling down. That which dominates the whole question is 
 the mechanism of the errors produced by the dements. We re- 
 place the old conception then by a conception that is more pre- 
 cise. The old conception, according to which the demential 
 states depend upon a quantitative diminution of the intelhgence 
 or upon an injury of all the faculties, was a constant source of 
 confusion. One had indeed the impression that there was some- 
 thing besides this; but whenever the diagnosis of dementia was 
 doubtful, or when one attempted to determine exactly the con- 
 stituent elements, the ground that he beHeved soUd gave way 
 under his feet. To the vague and inexact afl&rmation of a global 
 diminution of the whole intelligence must be added, and even 
 substituted for it, the conception of individual errors of func- 
 tioning, of defects of every sort, which by their multipUcation 
 lower the intellectual level and which present the two following 
 characteristics: irregularity and extensiveness relative to the 
 level of the subjects. 
 
IV. DISTINCTION BETWEEN IDEATIONAL INTELLI- 
 GENCE AND INSTINCTIVE INTELLIGENCE 
 
 1. Portraits of two senile dements. Serious objection 
 could be made to the theory of paralytic dementia which we have 
 just set forth; or to put it better, we shall make some observations 
 which at first sight seem to contradict the preceding theory, 
 but which on the contrary when rightly interpreted will support 
 it and will permit its meaning to be enlarged. 
 
 We allude to a whole category of patients, the senile dements, 
 who present extremely accentuated disturbances of memory 
 and consequently of the faculty of evocation, and who neverthe- 
 less have not at all the same mentality nor the same attitude 
 as general paralytics. Instead of making a clinical table of 
 senile dementia let us observe a patient, make her talk and sub- 
 mit her to different tests which show all the consequences of 
 the amnesia with which she is affected. 
 
 We present to our readers an old woman who seems to be sixty- 
 five or sixty-six years old; she is small, thin, with slightly anemic 
 skin and delicate features. She is quite Hvely, her expression 
 is serious and attentive, she has even an intelligent glance which 
 meets ours directly. This lady is not without good manners. 
 She says good morning on entering, seats herself on a chair and 
 awaits our questions in a polite manner. She at once gives the 
 impression of a reasonable person and her conversation from 
 the start confirms this impression. She shows neither famiharity 
 nor lack of tact. The social sense is well preserved in her. Her 
 air of dignity and of circumspection would pass very well in a 
 waiting woman of a public building. 
 
 Already this attitude permits us to understand with whom 
 we have to deal; she is not an imbecile nor a paralytic. But this 
 is perhaps only a deceptive appearance; perhaps also the correct- 
 ness of her attitude is only a residue of a former state, the well 
 preserved fagade of an edifice in ruins, such as one might expect 
 to find in dementia patients. We must not therefore stop at 
 these exterior signs. Let us make our patient talk. 
 
 297 
 
298 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 Her conversation when followed for some time astonishes us. 
 We commence, according to our custom, by giving general ques- 
 tions; we ask her age, her profession, her family, her past life. 
 It is impossible to obtain a single precise reply or any trustworthy 
 information. Facts that are of prime importance she declares 
 she does not remember; for others her explanations are not at 
 all clear, they are even contradictory. Let us see. 
 
 FIG. 23. MME. MACOLARD, SENILE DEMENT, PRESENTS HERSELF WITH AN 
 AIR OF GREAT DIGNITY. 
 
 Q. What is your name? 
 
 A. I am called Mme. Macolard. 
 
 Q. What is your age? 
 
 A. Oh! monsieur, I am not young oh! no! 
 
 Q. But what is your age? 
 
 A. Seventy-two or seventy-five years. 
 
 Q. Are you from Paris? 
 
 A. Ah! no, I am from Clermont. 
 
TWO SENILE DEMENTS 299 
 
 Q. What is your profession? 
 
 A. (Pointing to Dr. Simon who is writing.) Well my profession — to 
 do what that gentleman there writes. (Impossible to know what she means 
 to say.) 
 
 Q. You were in business? 
 
 A. Yes, in business, the hardware business. 
 
 Q. What did you do in business? 
 
 A. We made the circuit. We did it, it was very well. (Confused 
 explanations, niunerous details that no one could hear or understand.) 
 
 Q. You have had many children? 
 
 A. I was the only child. 
 
 Q. You have not understood. I ask you how many children you have 
 had. 
 
 A. It would be hard for me to tell. 
 
 Q. Why so? 
 
 A. Because I do not know exactly. 
 
 Q. Let us see, explain yourself. Have you had more than one? 
 
 A. Oh! I should say. I have had more than four since I came here. 
 (Unintelligible.) 
 
 Q. Have you had ten? 
 
 A. You would not wish it. 
 
 Q. Less than ten then? 
 
 A. Oh! I think so. 
 
 Q. More than five? 
 
 A. Oh! surely five. Because one must come and go. — I would not tell 
 you that I had less than five. 
 
 One can already see from these few words how her memory 
 has gone. There are singular omissions and obscurities in her 
 repHes. Note now some contradictions. 
 
 Q. Your mother is still living? 
 A. Oh! yes, monsieur. 
 Q. How old is she? 
 A. She is younger than I. 
 Q. She is not your real mother then? 
 A. Yes, my real mother. 
 Q. You say she is younger than you? 
 A. Once she was younger than I. 
 Q. But now she is older? 
 
 A . Since Monsieur (pointing to Dr. Simon) is younger than I— well it 
 is the same thing. (Unintelligible.) 
 Q. You have told your age? 
 A. Oh! yes, monsieur. 
 Q. Tell me again. What is your age? 
 A. Perhaps sixty, sixty-five. How much I do not know. 
 She had said seventy-two or seventy-five a moment before. 
 
300 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 Q. And your mother, what is her age? 
 
 A. Mama is older than I. Very often she stays in the country. 
 Q. How old is she? 
 
 A. I do not know — If it was read — (pointing to Dr. Simon who writes) 
 If that page that is being written were read — 
 
 Q. But you said your mother was younger than you? 
 
 A. Oh! she is not younger than I. She is about like me, my age. 
 
 It can be seen how contradictory are the words of this woman 
 since in an interval of five minutes she affirms that she is older 
 than her mother, then that she is younger and finally that they 
 are of the same age. But in reality it is because she has no pro- 
 nounced definite convictions about the words she uses. She con- 
 tradicts herself because she forgets the sense of the phrase which 
 she has started and also the end which she has in view while 
 speaking. Obviously none of these contradictions would be 
 encountered in a conversation with imbeciles. 
 
 The memory of Mme. Macolard presents in fact a very accen- 
 tuated weakening. That which is conserved in her is the use of 
 language and that which constitutes knowledge not memories; 
 for instance, reading (she reads quite fluently), writing, the knowl- 
 edge of money, the names of colors, etc. But for whatever 
 concerns recent acquisitions she is deeply stricken. It may be 
 said that she has knowledge hut not memory. Thus she cannot 
 find her bearings from any point of view; she knows neither the 
 hour, the day, the month, the season, nor even the year. 
 
 Q. What day is today? 
 A. I do not even know anything. 
 Q. Is it afternoon or morning? 
 A. Ah, indeed, I do not know. 
 Q. Try to tell which it is, afternoon or morning? 
 A. It is still morning. 
 
 Q. And what morning? (In reality it is five o'clock in the evening.) 
 A. You have asked me too much. 
 Q. What did you eat this morning? 
 A. Ah! it would be very hard for me to tell you. 
 Q. What month is this? 
 A. 1 know nothing about it. 
 Q. Oh! yes, tell me what month it is? 
 A. Is it the same as you? 
 Q. Yes. 
 
 A. If it is the same we are equal. (Happy way for her to escape.) 
 Q. This is December! (In reality it is May, it is warm, the fruit trees 
 are in bloom.) 
 
TWO SENILE DEMENTS 301 
 
 A. That surprises me. December and January. We are not in the 
 month of January. It is possible. 
 Q. What year is this? 
 
 A. Faith, I know nothing. What year did you say it was? 
 Q. 1809. 
 
 A. 1809, that is nothing. 
 
 Q. And do you know who just died? Louis XIV. 
 A. I have heard of him. 
 
 We shall not attempt to characterise this forgetfulness as lack 
 of attention. When the memory is affected to this degree it is 
 evident that the attention must be also affected. It forms a 
 complicated mass of distm-bances. What seems to us certain 
 is that the great loss comes in the memory; not to know the year 
 in which one is living cannot come from a falhng off of the power 
 of attention; not to know if it is morning or afternoon cannot 
 come from a lack of attention; however weak the attention the 
 meals are noted. These lapses come from loss of memory. 
 
 Let us proceed to a methodical study of her memory, by way 
 of experimient. She can repeat four figures; she attains occasional- 
 ly this maximum of four. Out of thirteen pictures shown her she 
 does not remember a single one. All that she can do is to repeat a 
 sentence of eight syllables. We give her three simple com- 
 missions. She understands them very well but the moment 
 she rises to perform them she is much embarrassed. The three 
 commissions are as follows : to carry a music box to another table, 
 to take a flower from a bouquet and bring it to us, to move a 
 chair. The dement rises, saying, "Well, I must take the bouquet." 
 She goes to the table, looks at the bouquet, "I am to take only 
 one flower." She is deeply embarrassed, turns to us, looks at 
 us, seeking to implore our assistance. But we remain as im- 
 movable as sphinxes. She decides to pick a flower. Her em- 
 barrassment continues. 'Terhaps I must not bring it " 
 
 She lays it on a chair and comes back to her seat without any 
 concern as to- the commission she has forgotten. Such a loss 
 of memory renders her completely useless. 
 
 Nothing shows us more clearly the fugitive character of her 
 memory than the experiment with cards. We present to her 
 two cards and ask her to name them; then we conceal the two 
 cards and fifteen seconds later, which is a very short period, 
 we ask her to name the two cards; she has forgotten them. Since 
 
302 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 we did not succeed with simple cards we show her some face 
 cards, the king of diamonds and the queen of clubs. Thirty- 
 seconds are used in showing and making her name the two cards. 
 She is very attentive. Then we turn them over on the table 
 and ask her to name them after allowing exactly fifteen seconds 
 to pass. 
 
 Q. Well? What were they? 
 
 A. But I did not see. They were red on the back. I did not want to 
 raise the other. 
 
 Q. Yes, but what did I show you? 
 
 A. You showed me 1 am not sure that one wasn't the six. 
 
 Q. And the other? 
 
 A. Turn it over You only look at it yourself. 
 
 We begin and show her the same cards and again we allow fifteen seconds 
 to pass. 
 
 Q. Well now, this time you are going to name them. 
 
 A. King of clubs — and the Queen — perhaps of clubs also or of spades — 
 I only glanced at them. (It is her habit always to complain.) 
 
 It can be seen with what difficulty we succeed in giving her 
 a trace of memory which probably did not endure more than 
 two seconds. This is however one of the easiest experiments 
 with memory that could be made. That is the reason we use it 
 in senile dementia. In paralytic dementia we employ a more 
 difficult test, that of the three figures, Ernest, Louis, Antoine. 
 But it would be out of the question here for it would be too diffi- 
 cult for our patient to retain. Let us conclude with an incident. 
 While Mme. Macolard is with us we send for Denise, an imbecile 
 whose presence cannot escape notice for she laughs aloud inces- 
 santly. Denise remains a full quarter of an hour with us; Mme. 
 Macolard often speaks to her to admonish her, telling her to 
 be quiet, etc. The scene is not devoid of humor. Mme. Macolard 
 has received from us a paper with the request to read us something. 
 She consents but she has the habit of not being able to decide; 
 she always finds that something is wrong, she turns the paper 
 in every direction. Denise near her laughs loudly. The de- 
 ment is offended at her laughter, and addresses a reprimand 
 full of feehng to Denise, "Mademoiselle, do not laugh; you must 
 be more respected." If certain words are inexact the tone is 
 there. The imbecile, impressed, quiets herself. The dement 
 goes back to her paper. She coniplains that she cannot see. 
 
TWO SENILE DEMENTS 303 
 
 "With glasses," she says, "I could see all right." Seeing that 
 we wear glasses she says to us, "But you have them, then you 
 read," and she hands us the paper. We refuse it. This excites 
 a new burst of laughter from the imbecile and the dement repri- 
 mands her again, "My dear, you must not laugh like a child of 
 three." The scene lasts quite a while, after which the two 
 women are taken into the garden to be photographed; this took 
 a long time because we took three photographs of one and two 
 of the other and the poses had to be arranged. All then returned 
 to the office and after a little while Denise was allowed to go. 
 
 A half hour after the imbecile had left us we questioned Mme. 
 Macolard about the affair. 
 
 Q. Did any one come in here with us? 
 
 A. Not that I know of any way. 
 
 Q. We three have not been alone all the time? Think. Besides we 
 were not in this room all the time. 
 
 A. (In substance she says that once we went out together.) 
 
 Q. Are you sure that we opened that door? 
 
 A. I think so. (It was by that door that we had gone into the garden.) 
 
 Q. So no one came in since we have been here? 
 
 A. But we have not been here long. 
 
 (In reality we had been there at least two hours.) 
 
 Q. You do not remember to have seen a patient enter here? 
 
 A. Ah! a patient who could not stand up. 
 
 Q. Madame, a patient did come in here ! 
 
 A. Yes. I do not know. I say yes, but I do not know. 
 
 Q. A patient came in here! 
 
 A. Here? You have scarcely had any patients this year. (Unintel- 
 ligible.) 
 
 Q. It was a patient who laughed all the time. 
 
 A. That stout woman who came here! She did nothing but laugh. 
 
 Q. You remember her then? 
 
 A. Yes, monsieur, it was easy to remember her. She sat here on this 
 chair, and then she laughed with her fat face. (Correct, the imbecile 
 has a fat face.) 
 
 Thus it can be seen with what difficulty we awaken in her 
 this very striking and very recent memory. 
 
 It is certain that so great a psychological disturbance must 
 produce many repercussions in the mental stage of the patient. 
 The principal repercussion that became visible during our 
 examination was besides the loss of memory the inappropriate- 
 ness of language. This dement had great trouble in naming 
 
304 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 familiar objects shown to her. A gas jet was called a lamp; 
 a wash basin was called porcelain or a thing to wash in; a water 
 pitcher received this pictm'esque appellation, "It is one that waits 
 for water to be put in." The expression of ideas suffers from 
 this poverty of words and the patient, as one can see from the 
 bits of dialogue which we have given, often uses unintelhgible 
 phraseology or afl&rms facts which a few minutes before she had 
 denied. This comes from incoherence of language much more 
 than from incoherence of ideas. 
 
 But let us examine the effect which the amnesia has had upon 
 the judgment of the dement. Does she commit gross blunders? 
 Does she accept without any critical sense the enormities that 
 one affirms before her? Has she lost the sense of the ridiculous? 
 Is she suggestible to a supreme degree? Already it has been 
 possible to note a certain ironic turn in her sentence; whatever 
 the value of this irony it is evidently of a quahty that would 
 be impossible in an imbecile. Mme. Macolard is not devoid 
 of wit. Once we asked her to make some mental additions; 
 she could not perform them but neither did she satisfy herself 
 as would an unbecile by replying at random. 
 
 Q. How much dt)es 9 and 8 make? 
 
 A. Very well, 9 How much does 9 and 8 make? 
 
 Q. Answer first, I will tell you afterwards. 
 A. Very well that will be time enough. 
 
 Notice also that she never replies haphazard as would an im- 
 becile; when she does not know she does not reply at all and 
 declares she does not know, which is very sensible on her part. 
 On the whole her memory is extremely weakened but her judg- 
 ment is far from being equally so; it is even quite good. 
 
 Let us introduce another senile dement, Mme. Langlais. She 
 has the brusque, surly but good manner of a country woman. 
 
 She has lost her memory even more than Mme. Macolard 
 but her judgment remains equally good. She has less dignity 
 than Mme. Macolard and more good natm*e, more gayety, es- 
 pecially at the beginning of the sitting; as time goes on she changes 
 as will be seen. 
 
 Q. What is your name? 
 
 A. My name is 1 have forgotten it already 1 have forgotten it. 
 
 I was born at Sucy there 
 
TWO SENILE DEMENTS 305 
 
 Q. You do not remember your name? 
 
 ^. Ah! to be sure the name of course. I know well, only at times 
 
 one does not pay attention. I was born at Sucy. 
 
 Q. You do not know your name? 
 
 A. Yes, monsieur. 
 
 Q. What is your name? 
 
 A. Augustine. 
 
 Q. And your family name? 
 
 A. My family Oh, that's at Sucy. 
 
 Q. But your family name. 
 
 A. I have forgotten, I have forgotten. 
 
 We have never encountered a more complete case of amnesia. 
 
 Q. What is your age? 
 
 A. Ah! monsieur I am old. I cannot always remember. 
 
 Q. Is it morning or evening? 
 
 A. I cannot tell you. I do not know, I do not know if it is morning or 
 evening. I do not know, I cannot tell you. 
 
 Notice the tone, the gay manner. 
 
 Q. What is a fork? 
 
 A. Monsieur? 
 
 Q. What is a fork? 
 
 A. What is a fork. Well it is no. I cannot say what it is A 
 
 fork is a fork so to eat with. 
 
 Q. What is a table? 
 
 A. A table? Well a table, it is to be useful for Well I cannot tell 
 
 you any better. 
 
 Q. A chair? 
 
 A. Well a chair, it is useful for well, to sit down. 
 
 Q. A horse? 
 
 ^. Ah! well, faith, a horse, to work to work. And then. I don't 
 
 know how to do any more. 
 
 Q. And a mama? 
 
 A. (She laughs.) Ah! That, she does all sorts of things. 
 
 Q. What? What's that? 
 
 A. Yes, it is a marmot, a fichu, it is all sorts of things, and then one 
 puts 
 
 Q. Where is your nose? 
 
 A. (First she laughs because she seems surprised and struck with the 
 unusual character of the question. This proves in itself that the judgment 
 
 is good.) Well, here it is, my nose here Monsieur, it is here It is 
 
 large but here it is all the same. (And as we laugh at her remark she adds) 
 Faith, you make me say silly things ! 
 
 Q. Now you are going to repeat some figures that I give you. 
 
 A. Yes, sir. 
 
 Q. 2! 
 
 A. 2 what? 
 
 Q. 2! 
 
 A. 2. 
 
306 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 Q. 4, 9! 
 
 A. (Silence.) , 
 
 Q. 4, 9! 
 
 A. 4, 9! 
 
 Q. 6, 1, 8! 
 
 A. How is that? I forget. Ah! when one is old. 
 
 Q. 3, 0, 7! 
 
 A. Oh! well, I cannot tell you that, like that. 
 
 Q. You know. 2! 
 
 A. 2! 
 
 Q. Wait! 
 
 A. Well, I do not know. 
 
 Q. 3, 0, 8! 
 
 Q. Oh! well, there is too much. There was 3 and then Must I 
 
 say that? I have no more memory, nothing of anything. My, but it is 
 provoking ! 
 
 She is right, her memory has become very weak;but she criticizes her- 
 self, she accuses her age! 
 
 Q. What is this house here? 
 
 A. Yes, monsieur. 
 
 Q. What is this house here? 
 
 A. Well, what do you want? I have the name, but I have forgotten. 
 It is provoking, the least thing. 
 
 Q. Is it a castle? 
 
 A. Yes, it is a castle, but it is not ours. 
 
 Q. Here, is it a prison? 
 
 A. Ah! no, it is not a prison. 
 
 Q. A hospital? 
 
 A. Yes, a little farther They call that (She stops, not finding the 
 
 word). What do you wish since I tell you I do not know anything about 
 anything. 
 
 There is a little confusion in her words because she has verbal amnesia 
 and cannot find her words easily. 
 
 Q. What is this? (Showing a key.) 
 
 A. A key. 
 
 Q. And that? {"crayon" — a pencil.) 
 
 A. (After having looked closely.) A "corrotj" No, I see all right 
 
 what it is a "crochon" No, I tell you I am stupid as anything. 
 
 Q. What is it? 
 
 A. I see a pencil Ah! what do you want? I cannot see well. 
 
 Q. And this? (A sou.) 
 
 A. Oh! that, well, think, that is a 2-sou piece. 
 
 She has the same trouble with the colors; she names correctly yellow, 
 blue, and green; the red embarrasses her. 
 
 A. That, it is a It is a thing How now? I see, I know, I cannot 
 
 say it It is violet not violet 1 cannot say it. Oh how tiresome! 
 
 It is garnet. 
 
 Q. How many children have you had? 
 
 A. Yes. 
 
TWO SENILE DEMENTS 307 
 
 Q. How many children have you had? 
 
 A. I have had four. 
 
 Q. No more? 
 
 A. Really, I don't know if there are others. Faith, when they're all 
 gone 1 don't know. 
 
 Q. What are their names? 
 
 A. My boy, he is the oldest. He is good in business, but the others 
 
 They do not know. (Sighing) Ah! mon Dieu, mon Dieu, I am half dead. 
 It is unfortunate when one cannot see! (She constantly complains of her 
 eyes.) 
 
 A moment later admitting that she gets confused when she is 
 told to count thirteen sous she makes this picturesque reflection ; 
 "My grandmother used to say to me when you are old you will 
 see — ^And now here I am." We pass on to other tests which we 
 make, in order to get her level; because of her amnesia we can 
 accomplish nothing; suffice it to say that she reaches only the 
 level of intelligence of four years. 
 
 At the moment of parting we thought of a little by-play which 
 shows very well that this old woman has good sense and can 
 defend herself from our suggestions. The attendant came to 
 bring a basket of apples into the office; the apples were red and 
 had an appetizing appearance. We said to Mme. Langlais, 
 
 Q. Here are apples. Take one. 
 
 A. No. I don't want to. 
 
 Q. Oh! yes, take one. 
 
 A. No, they are not mine. So people can say that I took the apples. 
 (With energy) When I eat apples it is because I buy them. 
 
 Q. But he (pointing to the other) he stole the apples. 
 
 A. Ah! that, that's not my affair. 
 
 Q. Take one! , 
 
 A. There is no danger. I do not want to take other people's. If any 
 one gives them to me I will take them. But I do not wish to take them. 
 There! 
 
 This was the first skirmish and we already see that she can de- 
 fend herself against temptation. But here is something better, 
 the scene which follows indeed astonished us. We were not pre- 
 pared for this conduct on the part of a woman whom amnesia 
 had driven to forgetting her own name. We simulated wishing 
 to borrow money from her. 
 
 Q. (With an insinuating tone) I need some money. 
 
 A. (Without disturbing herself, remaining seated) Very well, every- 
 
308 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 body needs that. But you understand that if I were to come and hunt for 
 twenty sous, somebody would have to give it to me. One must eat. 
 
 This is the nonsense of asphasia. Let us continue. 
 
 Q. But I need money. 
 
 A. Me too— Faith! 
 
 Q. I am going to write a note for you to give me money. 
 
 A. No, monsieur, I have no money for that. 
 
 Q. (Taking a pen) I am going to write a note for you to give me money. 
 
 A. I have none; I cannot give you any. 
 
 Q. One always has money. 
 
 A. I should like to know, I who am all alone. 
 
 Q. (Writing) I write, Mme. Langlais will give me ten francs. 
 
 A. (Raising her voice) No, no, no. I cannot give money to anybody. 
 I have none. Well, my husband left me well fixed. No I won't give any 
 of it. With that the merchants are very kind. 
 
 Q. (Showing the note) Very well I have made the note for ten francs. 
 You will sign it. 
 
 A. No, no, Monsieur, I have none, no money. 
 
 Q. Come on, sign this. 
 
 A. No, no, I cannot! I have no money. I am all alone (indignant). 
 And then, I must ! If I earn twenty sous and I eat at the same time, I 
 would have nothing, no, I cannot. 
 
 Q. See here! Madame Langlais, you must sign. 
 
 A. No, I cannot! I cannot give money when I have none. (She is 
 angry, she wheels in her chair and turns her back to us) And my son, he 
 would fix me. He would say you are indeed crazy! I have not worked 
 all winter. 
 
 Q. Give me ten francs because I want to buy a bicycle. 
 
 A. Well, yes, I do not say no, but I have no money. You understand, a 
 woman who works. If I had I might say I have some. 
 
 Q. I need it for a wedding. 
 
 A. To go to a wedding! You have more than I. You earn more than 
 I. I cannot, I cannot. 
 
 Q. Have you much of a fortune? 
 
 A. (Indignant) I have the money that I earn. 
 
 Q. About how much have you? 
 
 A. I don't need to tell you what I have. You have more than I. You 
 understand, a woman of my age cannot have much. 
 
 Q. But you have a house? 
 
 A. And if I had a house it wouldn't be for you! 
 
 Q. You must have money in an old drawer. 
 
 A. And if I had I wouldn't give it to you. My dear friend, if you 
 have only that — 
 
 Q. (Insinuatingly) Shall I write to your son for him to give me your 
 money? 
 
 A. (Furious) Well, well, well There are children If there is a 
 
 20-franc piece, and he were to give it Money, I have none nor my son 
 
 either. 
 
TWO SENILE DEMENTS 309 
 
 Q. I assure you I need money because I love delicate food. 
 A. Well, we eat potatoes with oil and vinegar. I eat that and it is 
 good. Since I came I have had nothing at all. 
 
 Q. (Without saying a word we hand her the pen.) 
 A. No, I have no money at all. 
 
 In her indignation she rises and walks about the room while we 
 both remain seated at the table. Her countenance is animated. 
 She pronounces her words indistinctly. She encounters the bas- 
 ket of apples, she takes one and tries to break it while saying words 
 like this, ''No, I have no money for anyone." We offer to help 
 her cut her apple. She refuses. "A woman all alone !" she scolds. 
 "What money can she have! a woman all alone." She seats 
 herself apart and eats her apple with a surly air all the time re- 
 peating the same words. Time passes; already ten minutes have 
 elapsed since she took the apple but her anger does not leave her. 
 That demand for money is always on her heart. She talks to her- 
 self about it constantly. Finally the one of us who had conducted 
 the dialogue (Binet) leaves the room and she draws close to Dr. 
 Simon and says to him under her breath, "Who is that man 
 there? I cannot — I have only just enough for myself. No I 
 will not ! My husband would scold me. I don't want to be tor- 
 mented like that ! If Louis came he would lead me such a life 
 
 Why " Her grudge is so strong that when B returns to 
 
 the room the dement refuses to speak to him; we insist upon photo- 
 graphing her. She refuses obstinately. She continues to dig in 
 the basket for apples and to crunch them. We wish to call her 
 attention to the fact that the apples do not belong to her. 
 
 Q. Where did you buy that apple? 
 
 A. It was given to me. 
 
 Q. Who gave you that apple? 
 
 A. That is not your affair. 
 
 Q. See here, where did you get that apple? 
 
 A. There are more in the field. 
 
 Q. But you did not go into the field to get it? 
 
 A. That is nothing to you. It came from the field. 
 
 Q. Did you steal it? 
 
 A. That's none of your affair. Why no. Why do you come asking me 
 
 that? I ask you a little There, who is going to ask me? (She takes 
 
 another apple.) 
 
 Q. Apples cost four sous. 
 
 A. That's none of your affairs. 
 
310 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 Q. It is worth four sous. 
 A. It isn't yours. 
 
 Impossible to talk any more with her, she has become intract- 
 able; we are obliged to let her go. An attendant comes and gets 
 her and takes her to the hall. 
 
 This curious scene lasts for nearly three-quarters of an hour. 
 There was not a moment of forgetfulness. The patient never 
 for an instant forgot that her money was wanted; her anger in- 
 creased steadily in a sort of classical manner first restrained by a 
 feeling of propriety, then overflowing, allowing such' remarks as 
 "That's none of your affairs" and ending in a calmer state of per- 
 sistent rancor against the one who attempted to take her money. 
 It is really interesting to see such a continuity of thought in a 
 patient suffering from profound amnesia. 
 
 2. Comparison between senile dementia and paralytic 
 DEMENTIA. It remains for us to draw from these two observations 
 of senile dementia a conclusion relative to the theory of dementia 
 in general. 
 
 Senile dementia has been judged from very different points of 
 view. In the first place one has been so deceived by the inco- 
 herence of their words that it has been supposed that they had 
 incoherence of ideas, or delirium; let us recall in this connection 
 the contradictory replies which the old women gave of the age of 
 their mothers and the number of their children. A more exact 
 interpretation has shown that in this case the incoherence is 
 more apparent than real; it indicates disturbance of language, 
 the unconscious use of inexact words and this paraphrasing is 
 only one of the many manifestations of a more considerable 
 disturbance of memory. Senile dements present in reality the 
 characteristic trait of having become incapable of remembering; 
 they have lost the faculty of evocation and of fixation, so far as it 
 can be lost. For proof of this we need nothing more than the 
 game with the cards described above which, indeed, gives positive 
 results onh^ with patients of this category. 
 
 If senile dements are especially affected in the evocation of their 
 memories, is it right to say that we should compare them to general 
 paralytics, since we have admitted that with the latter the impo- 
 tence of evocation gives the key to all or nearly all of their dis- 
 turbances of functioning? No, this comparison would not be cor- 
 
SENILE VS. PARALYTIC DEMENTIA 311 
 
 rect, because when one talks with senile dements one notes this 
 extremely important fact that they have good sense and are con- 
 scious of their sorry state of decay, which contrasts clearly with 
 the unconsciousness which marks most general paralytics. More- 
 over, for a long time it has been acknowledged that the difference 
 between the two forms of dementia lies in the fact that in senile 
 dementia the judgment is better preserved than in paralytic 
 dementia. 
 
 We admit this point of view without hesitation, but we believe 
 it important to emphasize the psychological consequences which 
 proceed from this because these consequences so far have not 
 been pointed out. If it is true, as we believe, that senile de- 
 ments are not lacking in good sense or in judgment, this makes 
 the mental nature of judgment appear in. a new light. 
 
 Our classical theories, which constantly put the accent on the 
 clearest and most conscious part of the mental processes, the 
 idea, which admit that the intelligence is a combination of ideas, 
 and that the law of the intelligence is a logical law, these theo- 
 ries, we say, consider the judgment also as an ideational manifes- 
 tation, as an act which consists in grasping the relation of two 
 ideas, in uniting them, or in opposing them. If it were really 
 so, the facts of pathological observation which we have just re- 
 ported could not be understood. One who was incapable of hav- 
 ing ideas would be incapable of judging; and our two poor old 
 women who are able to recall almost nothing in the form of words 
 or images could neither judge nor appreciate. How would Mme. 
 Macolard ever have come to judge the laughter of the imbecile 
 Denise as childish and unmannerly if it had been necessary for 
 her to represent to herself under the form of ideas the attitude of 
 good manners? 
 
 We much more readily believe that the act of judging consists 
 essentially in an emotive and motor tendency to approve and to 
 disapprove; this tendency may indeed manifest itself by ideas 
 which are the motifs of judgment; but often the ideas do not 
 form themselves clearly after the judgment is pronounced, and 
 often they are so slow in forming themselves that they never ap- 
 pear; one judges without motif, without justification, without 
 ideas, but nevertheless, one judges. At the moment of jud ing 
 one is animated by a certain feeling which draws one towards 
 or turns one from the object judged. It is this feeling which is 
 
312 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 the foundation of the matter. The painter, to whom one submits 
 a canvas, says, "That is no good," but he can not always express 
 clearly what is "no good;" he has the feeling, and this feeling 
 is often as strong, as imperious, as irresistible as the most clearly 
 deduced reasoning. In the same way one may have the feeling 
 that an action is impossible, or that a certain course is unreason- 
 able, or that a certain expression is immoral, and one disap- 
 proves because he is animated by a certain feeling of disappro- 
 bation without having a single clear idea, without attempting to 
 give any justification, without referring to a norm of things pos- 
 sible, reasonable or moral. 
 
 We might even go farther. One could insist that there are 
 certain acts of judgment, that are performed only by ideas, which 
 are the simulations of judgment rather than real judgments. One 
 submits an action to a person for his judgment; if that person 
 possesses the instinctive part of judgment he will exclaim, "But 
 that is crazy, that is idiotic, etc." Exactly as another to whom 
 we present a foreign food after having put it in his mouth ex- 
 claims, "That nauseates me." On the contrary, one who has not 
 this instinctive reaction is obliged to compare the act submitted 
 to him with the memory of other similar acts and to recall to him- 
 self if in analogous circumstances the action has been generally 
 disapproved, has appeared ridiculous or imprudent; thus he makes 
 a comparison, an appreciation by means of a norm which is fur- 
 nished to him by his experience. This diverted process is, we be- 
 lieve, the rock of salvation for those who have no judgment and 
 who endeavor, nevertheless, not to be deceived. This certainly 
 is not to say that the judgment by ideas is always false or bad, but 
 in itself it is rather empty and very subject to errors in the same 
 way that judgment by instinct is very narrow; the true judgment 
 is a synthesis which includes at the same time both feeling and 
 idea. 
 
 Let us conclude by a little psychological experiment which 
 throws a clear light upon the important role of feeling in judg- 
 ment. Suppose that some one writes before us a list of one hun- 
 dred common words, like duck, hat, meadow, etc.; we have read 
 them over so as to practically know them. Now the list is hid- 
 den; we are given a word at random, and we must reply as to 
 whether or not it is in the list. The necessary time for judging 
 varies a little, according to the case, according to the word, accord- 
 
SENILE VS. PARALYTIC DEMENTIA 313 
 
 ing to the persons who serve as subjects and a host of other cir- 
 cumstances impossible to evaluate; but on the average the time is 
 very short. Two or three seconds suffice to decide whether the 
 word is new or loiown. Now two or three seconds is not sufficient 
 to recapitulate, even mentally, the list of one hundred words and, 
 moreover, the testimony of the subjects is that they never make 
 the mental recapitulation; they do not make it because they do not 
 feel the need of it. One passes judgment upon the word whether 
 it is new or known according to a particular feeling which is 
 awakened by the audition, a feeling of novelty, of surprise if it is 
 unknown ; a feeling of having been already seen, of familiarity, in 
 the contrary case. Here then is a case of an act of judgment, 
 very clear, very easy to analyse, which would require, if one con- 
 formed to the rules of logic, a detailed comparison with images or 
 perceptions, but which in reality disregards all this, is nothing 
 less than intellectual, and is produced by the wholly instinctive 
 operation of feeling. 
 
 This is the point to which reflection upon the results of our ex- 
 perimental psychology leads us. These results are confirmed by 
 the results of pathological psychology. We have just seen two 
 old women who have a remarkable poverty of ideas and who often 
 show a positive inability for evoking the proper idea ; in spite of 
 this they judge and they judge exceedingly well. By their atti- 
 tudes they show that they have preserved their feeling of pro- 
 priety; by the way in which they refuse to reply haphazard to 
 what they do not know they prove that they have the feeling of 
 true and false; certain ones have also in the most touching manner 
 the painful feeling of their own decay and are sorrowful over the 
 effects of old age; often they have also the consciousness of being 
 in a hospital. We have seen in Mme. Macolard the feeling of 
 disapprobation for the puerile laughter of an imbecile. Even at 
 our own expense we have learned how much Mme. Langlais 
 judges the danger of putting her signature to a note, because she 
 never pardoned the proposition which we made to her of bor- 
 rowing ten francs. 
 
 All these judgments are the indications of a character which in 
 spite of amnesia is not yet disorganized; thus in the presence of a 
 senile dem^ent one has the clear impression that there is before 
 him a personality that holds itself together and not one that is 
 amorphous. 
 
314 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 In terminating this point let us harmonize these conclusions with 
 those acquired from another study which we made upon the 
 relation of speech and thought. We have seen that there are 
 thoughts without images even among normal adults who are in 
 full possession of themselves, because it was among them that we 
 made this unexpected observation, they are able to have an image 
 and to think far beyond this image, to think things very much 
 more complicated which the images can not represent. ^^ 
 
 We have further seen that there are some thoughts without 
 words; we have found the proof of this among imbeciles and cases 
 of aphasia.^* What remains of a thought from which its two 
 principal elements consciousness and analysis have been removed? 
 We have shown that there remains a particular tendency, which 
 manifests itself under the form of an indefinable feeling. One has 
 the feeling of an intention. We now extend this theory to judg- 
 ment and it certainly does not require a great effort of the imagi- 
 nation to make such an extension because to think is to judge, 
 and what is true of thought in general must be equally true of 
 judgment. In every thought there is an appreciation and this 
 appreciation is a judgment. We have besides direct proof that 
 this theory is true of judgment, because we have just seen that 
 patients afflicted with amnesia, incapable of recalling the vast 
 majority of their memories, can nevertheless continue to judge 
 correctly. They have had the experience and they retain good 
 sense and a critical mind, even though they can no longer evoke 
 the precise memories of their experiences nor cite the least fact; 
 in the place of precise memories they have the feeling of things, 
 and that suffices ; it amounts to the same thing, it permits them to 
 make a judgment. 
 
 According to our hypothesis the feeling presents itself in a defi- 
 nite relation to the idea. Idea and feeling make one; they are 
 two successive stages of the same process; that which is idea was 
 
 ^' Thus a persons who thinks, "I shall leave tomorrow," may indeed 
 have images of the train, the trunks, the country he is leaving, the friends 
 who expect him, and of all sorts of other details; but these are only details, 
 and the essential idea, "I shall leave tomorrow," does not and can not 
 figure in these images. 
 
 " Let us recall the observation of that aphasic patient who when asked 
 a thing too difficult for him replied in an energetic, slow tone, "Ca, non" 
 that is to say, "I can not do that;" he had then a thought without adequate 
 words, and consequently some part of the thought without any words. 
 
SENILE VS. PARALYTIC DEMENTIA 315 
 
 at first a feeling and the feeling in evolving and rendering itself 
 precise becomes at the same time idea, word, action; the feeling 
 is the obscure, heated stage; when it clears it becomes more com- 
 prehensible and rational, it produces ideas. In senile dementia 
 it is the last part, the flower of the process as it were, the idea 
 that is struck and withers; but the instinctive part remains vivid; 
 and it is thus that senile dements are reduced to an instinctive 
 existence consequently very low, very animal, but still coordinate. 
 Let us recall in this relation our scheme of thought which con- 
 sists in a triple phenomenon of direction, adaptation and control. 
 It now appears to us that it is not only the control which can 
 occur under the form of feeling, but also the direction, since senile 
 dements in spite of their amnesia know how to keep a given direc- 
 tion and a prolonged attitude. Moreover, we can no longer be 
 content with the conclusion that in senile dementia there is a con- 
 servation of the judgment; we go farther even to the much more 
 interesting and more profound conclusion that senile dementia 
 tends toward a destruction of the ideational life with conserva- 
 tion of the instinctive part of the thought. 
 
 Certainly this word instinct is one which has been most seriously 
 and most dangerously abused; and perhaps one would not find two 
 psychologists or two naturalists who would give the same defini- 
 tion of instinct. It is therefore perhaps dangerous to introduce 
 this word of equivocal meaning into a new analysis of the phe- 
 nomena of intelligence. Nevertheless, in spite of all these objec- 
 tions, in terminating this study of senile dementia we have de- 
 cided to present a proposition relative to the distinction to be 
 established between ideational intelligence, which as its name indi- 
 cates operates by means of ideas and of words, and instinctive 
 intelligence; the latter evidently has nothing whatever to do with 
 certain characteristics which rightly or wrongly are attributed 
 to the instinct of animals, when one wishes, chiefly for theoretical 
 reasons, to make a distinction between instinct and reason; we 
 do not in the least attribute to that which we call "instinctive 
 intelligence" the qualities of innateness, infallibility, specific- 
 ness, imperfectibility, necessity. A single character, a character 
 wholly negative, without doubt the most important character of 
 instinct, is found in the instinctive manifestation of the intelli- 
 gence; that is, it is the lack of an exact image picturing the end 
 to be attained and the means to be employed, which would give 
 
316 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 to all this a clear awareness. There is here the lack of a logical 
 perception, of a verbal reasoning, which would permit of explain- 
 ing and of demonstrating a succession of truths; it is, in a word, 
 in the realm of the unknown and the mysterious, surrounding 
 actions which are none the less adapted and intelligent in their 
 effects. 
 
 Let us go back and compare our two senile dements with our 
 general paralytics. It has long been said that judgment remains 
 in senile dementia but is lost in paralytic dementia. This truth 
 is open to criticism when affirmed in such absolute terms; be- 
 cause it is possible to find some traces of judgment among general 
 paralytics who are at the beginning of their malady; there are 
 others, quite advanced in certain symptoms, who still retain a 
 certain amount of good sense. We have drawn at some length 
 the portrait of Mme. Solas, a paralytic who passed judgment 
 upon herself and found herself very stupid. One could not have 
 said of her that paralytic dementia always destroys the judgment. 
 To avoid these contradictions one must take into account the 
 fundamental idea of level. Without doubt at a given level the 
 general paralytic has infinitely less judgment than the senile de- 
 ment. Mme. Langlais has an intelligence of scarcely four years; 
 the paralytics of seven or eight years judge much less correctly 
 than she and have consequently very much less common sense. 
 
 Here is an incident in proof of this. Some pages back we spoke 
 of the anger of Mme. Langlais whom we requested to sign a note 
 for ten francs. It is well known that paralytics on the contrary 
 are very generous and would give away millions when delirious. 
 But even apart from all delirium one very easily obtains from 
 many of them gifts by writing. When Mme. Langlais left us we 
 had the curiosity to call into the office a general paralytic whom 
 we knew very well, a woman named Bernard, and to demand 
 money of her in a similar manner. The reception was altogether 
 different. 
 
 This woman has a level of seven years. 
 
 Q. (Writing) Mme. Bernard, have you a little money? 
 
 A. None. 
 
 Q. But one always has a little money. 
 
 A. I had some money once. 
 
 Q. You see, I need some money. 
 
 ^. Ah! ah! ah! I also need some, and I shall have some money. 
 
SENILE VS. PARALYTIC DEMENTIA 317 
 
 Q. How much have you? 
 
 A. A good deal of money. 
 
 Q. A million? 
 
 A. Oh! no, more than that; not a million, no, no. 
 
 Not very clear; her replies seem contradictory. 
 
 Q. I need some money. I wish you would sign a note for me. 
 
 A. (By no means offended) Ah! Yes, a note. 
 
 Q. (Writing) Your name is Mme. Bernard? 
 
 A. That was my maiden name. 
 
 Q. And your married name? 
 
 A. Mme. Dubos. 
 
 Q. Now you are going to sign this? Mme. Bernard will give 100 francs 
 to M. Fran9ois. 
 
 A. Ah! yes. (She laughs and signs.) 
 
 Q. So you will give me 100 francs? 
 
 A. (Without the least concern) I have 800 francs I can get, 20 francs, 
 one glass. 
 
 Thus it is extremely easy to obtain the signature of Mme. 
 Bernard. To make her laugh a little and terminate the scene 
 we risk a pleasantry, but she does not understand it. 
 
 Q. In order that your debt may be altogether serious, I am going to 
 make you swear upon the tail of a cow. 
 
 A. (Seriously) Ah! there are cows at Partenay. (Her native city.) 
 
 This has only the value of an anecdote. We cite it merely to 
 establish a striking contrast from the point of view of feeling be- 
 tween the woman Langlais, the senile dement who has a level of 
 four years, and the woman Bernard, paralytic clement who has a 
 level of seven years. While the former so easily evokes feelings 
 which prevent her from loaning the money, the latter evokes 
 nothing, lets things go, remains indifferent. This state of indiffer- 
 ence by the way is very remarkable with general paralytics; and 
 we suppose that their indifference must be attributed to troubles of 
 functioning. They still possess the necessary feeling but they 
 cannot evoke it, their difficulties of evocation bear therefore at 
 the same time upon their feelings and upon their ideas. 
 
 But in order for this thesis to be quite clear it must be limited 
 and defined by several remarks. It does not seem that general 
 paralytics have wholly lost the faculty of being emotionally 
 aroused. Such an affirmation would be opposed to every day ob- 
 servation. They are patients that under many circumstances 
 show themselves very emotional. It is easy to anger them, easy 
 
318 THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE FEEBLE-MINDED 
 
 to make them weep. We recall a woman with the level of nine 
 years to whom we said, by way of experiment, that they never 
 gave the patients anything to eat at the hospital which she had 
 just entered. Immediately she burst into tears like a child. It 
 proved to be also the grief of a child which did not last long and 
 which was easily consoled. Inside of three minutes we took the 
 
 FIG. 24. MME. POIRE; GENERAL PARALYTIC; INTELLECTUAL LEVEL OF 
 NINE YEARS. WE HAVE JUST ANNOUNCED TO HER THAT AT THE HOSPITAL 
 THEY NEVER EAT. THE PATIENT AT THIS NEWS BEGINS TO CRY. 
 
 two photographs with contrary expressions. The emotions of 
 these patients seem to us to lack continuity; they can be intense 
 but they do not last long. Moreover they are incongruous and 
 are often followed by states which are quite incompatible with 
 them. We have seen an example of this in Kamonot, who said 
 to us all in the same minute when we were conjecturing a cer- 
 tain event, sad for her, "I would weep," then "I would laugh." 
 In a word it is only the simplest, the most rudimentary feelings 
 
SENILE VS. PARALYTIC DEMENTIA 
 
 319 
 
 which manifest themselves among general paralytics. There is a 
 complete hierarchy in the emotional life. The so-called intellec- 
 tual sentiments, those which form the substance of judgment, 
 occupy the most elevated part of the scale; feelings of propriety, 
 truth, probability, justice, are among those which are lost in the 
 general paralytic. Thus the paralytic appears to us like a being 
 
 FIG. 25. TWO MINUTES LATER WE ASSURE MME. POIRE THAT IT WAS A 
 JOKE; SHE AT ONCE RESUMES HER SMILE OF SATISFACTION. 
 
 whose personality is profoundly disturbed; if one compares a 
 paralytic with a senile dement, both having the level of four years, 
 one has the impression that in the case of the senile dement he 
 is in the presence of somebody while with the paralytic there is no 
 longer anybody. 
 
CONCLUSION 
 
 As much to close this study as to begin others, we terminate 
 by summing up whatever our experiments and reflections have 
 taught us as essential in the psychology of senile and paralytic 
 dementia. It will mark a stage of the journey for later works. 
 
 These two forms of dementia correspond to a lowering of intel- 
 ligence which is measurable, as we have seen; from this comes the 
 practical conclusion that dements are unable to adapt themselves 
 any longer to the ordinary condition of life and have need of the 
 simpler life of the hospital. There is here, of course, a common- 
 place phenomenon which is to be found in a great number of 
 forms of insanity and can characterise none, because it is almost 
 an absolute rule that the insane undergo a lowering of level. 
 
 Second, traits more important than the preceding, senile and 
 paralytic dementia belong to the category of deficient mental 
 states; let us understand by that that these mental states sepa- 
 rate themselves from the normal not by the addition of certain 
 positive symptoms, which would constitute originality, but rather 
 by the absence, the gap, the weakness of certain integral parts of 
 the normal mechanism. From this point of view, the insanities 
 resemble the original states of idiocy, imbecility and moronity, 
 which constitute also the states frankly defective. 
 
 Only, that which is a loss among dements is a lack of acquisi- 
 tion among defectives. The difference between the one and the 
 other is that the one is inertia of functioning and the other an in- 
 sufficiency of development; this was already known or at least 
 suspected; our work has especially consisted in putting precision 
 into the statement and in filling out formulas that were rather 
 empty. We know now that the inertia of functioning consists in a 
 weakness of the evocation of the states of consciousness and that 
 the lack of development is manifested in the quality of the states of 
 consciousness which are not sufficiently differentiated. These 
 few words sum up a considerable experience to which one must 
 
 320 
 
CONCLUSION 321 
 
 return in order to appreciate its value and which can serve the 
 clinician for the diagnosis of embarrassing cases.^^ 
 
 Here then is what we have learned about the intimate nature of 
 dementia; we know how to distinguish it from original defective- 
 ness; we do not distinguish it by means of incidents but by its 
 characteristic form. It remains now to complete the comparison 
 of dementia with other insane states. This comparison, if we 
 sometime have the time and the means to pursue it, will permit 
 us better to understand dementia, because by multiplying the 
 points of comparison we make the study more profound. It will 
 permit us especially to prolong our analysis of alienation. Since 
 the study of imbeciles has enabled us to know dements, it is to be 
 hoped that the study of dements, in their turn, will enable us to 
 comprehend confusional states and delirium. In a well ordered 
 sequence of works the results acquired facilitate the subsequent 
 conquests, just as a stone placed in an edifice serves as a base for 
 new stones. 
 
 Alfred Binet and Th. Simon. 
 
 1^ It will be noted that we seem in all our study to have considered the 
 weakness of evocation as a most important fact; it is a most important 
 fact for the present article in which we are obliged to limit ourselves ; but 
 we are far from thinking that this should be a most important fact for 
 psychological explanations, and especially for physiological explanations. 
 Only there should be an agreement as to the value and the import of cer- 
 tain physiological explanations. Since Mathias Duval, some neurologists, 
 some alienists have believed that they could explain a host of psychic 
 phenomena, anaesthesia, amnesia, delirium, by supposing that these 
 phenomena were due to the fact that some cerebral neurones had been 
 severed from their communications. These are surely suppositions too 
 convenient; they explain everything and consequently explain nothing. 
 We refuse to explain in this manner the failure of evocation met with in 
 dements. For the same reason we shall not state the very vague ideas 
 that have been expressed on psychological phenomena considered as 
 forces, which have been ingeniously described as a nerve force, a tension, 
 a flow, a latent energy, comparing them to the physical force engendered by 
 a reservoir full of water. It would be easy to apply these notions to the 
 mental state of dements, and to say that their psychic processes are lack- 
 ing in nerve force or in tension. But what is the use? Without conjectur- 
 ing what the future may teach us about cerebral dynamics, we can say 
 that for the present these are only metaphors. 
 
INDEX 
 
 Acquisitions, distinction be- 
 tween the faculties and the. 130 
 
 Adaptation 137 
 
 power of vs. faculty of 85 
 
 Addition executed by Philippon 242 
 
 Adjustment, tests of 103 
 
 Alalia 173 
 
 Albert, the definitions of 98 
 
 imbecile 23,74 
 
 reaction time of 34 
 
 with the general Ill 
 
 writing of 49 
 
 Algebra, to solve a problem in. 139 
 
 America 151 
 
 Amiability 24 
 
 Animal memory 88 
 
 Animals and number 87 
 
 react to pain 59 
 
 understand gesture 183 
 
 Aphasia 162 
 
 an acquired 178 
 
 and poverty of language 188 
 
 congenital motor 179 
 
 Aphasic 189 
 
 Arithmetic, patients are weak in 283 
 
 Arithmetical faculty 86 
 
 two operations 87 
 
 Arsenal, equipped 132 
 
 Articulation 171 
 
 movements necessary for 183 
 
 of words 186 
 
 Assent without motive 106 
 
 Association of ideas 64 
 
 Attention 141 
 
 depth of 43 
 
 forced, value of 42 
 
 its concentration 26 
 
 means of reinforcing 28 
 
 mono-ideism 151 
 
 tests of 32 
 
 tests of effort of 43 
 
 the four degrees 30 
 
 without coordination there is 
 no 137 
 
 Attitude, difference of 113 
 
 Atomism, theory of psychic 137 
 
 Auto-censure 146 
 
 Automatism 129 
 
 Autopsies 179 
 
 Beauchamp, measurement of 
 
 the level of 225 
 
 Beauvisage, imbecile. . . .' 17, 37 
 
 Box, the refilling of a 106 
 
 Brain of the idiot diseased 58 
 
 Cabussel 145 
 
 discovering slight differences . 55 
 
 head measurements 38 
 
 imbecile 79 
 
 reaction time 34 
 
 Center "O" 129 
 
 Cephalometry 38 
 
 Chair is called a cork screw 107 
 
 Children and animals 177 
 
 Choice 138 
 
 Colors, naming of by a general 
 
 paralytic 237 
 
 Comparison, necessity of mak- 
 ing a 136 
 
 Comprehension of words 186 
 
 surpasses execution 178 
 
 Concrete, value of the 94 
 
 Confession, Albert's 116 
 
 Consciousness, a directing state 
 
 of 135 
 
 Control, effect of the 147 
 
 Coordination, a lack of 130 
 
 Correction, the 146 
 
 Counts backwards, Philippon.. 251 
 
 Counting 89 
 
 Cretin, imbecile 15 
 
 Critical sense 146 
 
 Critics of tomorrow 10 
 
 Darwin 57 
 
 Deafness, congenital word 179 
 
 323 
 
324 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Defective, a normal who lacks 
 
 something 128 
 
 difference between the, and 
 the normal not the absence 
 
 of a particular faculty 133 
 
 Defectives, age of the intelli- 
 gence of 9 
 
 like young normal children . . 96 
 
 Deference 112 
 
 Definitions superior to use 97 
 
 Degenerates 148 
 
 Dement distinguished from the 
 
 mental defective 273 
 
 Dementis, comparison between 
 
 senile and paralytic 310 
 
 criticism of definitions of ... . 219 
 
 global 294 
 
 intellectual level in 222 
 
 not characterized by a lower- 
 ing of level 295 
 
 patients obey 107 
 
 Denise 164 
 
 handwriting of 46 
 
 imbecile 21 
 
 language of 212 
 
 Description higher than enum- 
 eration 97 
 
 Development, insuflBciency of. . 289 
 
 Diderot 147 
 
 Difference, slightest perceptible 53 
 
 Differences, perception of 51 
 
 Differentiation, lack of 144 
 
 Direction, power of 137 
 
 weak among imbeciles 136 
 
 Dissociation, Denise a case of . . 177 
 
 Distraction 28 
 
 Docile group 20 
 
 the 11 
 
 Docility 104, 116 
 
 and rebelliousness 23 
 
 what is? 117 
 
 Dog, the, recognizes his name. . . 178 
 
 the suggestion of the 108 
 
 Dreams 135 
 
 Duneize 37 
 
 Dupont, M. Marius 173 
 
 Dynamometer, two factors at 
 work 32 
 
 Dysalalia 172 
 
 Echolalia 183 
 
 Effort, absence of, characteris- 
 tic 101 
 
 depends upon intellectual 
 
 level 43 
 
 of adaptation 145 
 
 Embarrassment not in imbeciles 65 
 
 English school 151 
 
 Enumerators 96 
 
 Esthetic sense, imbecile has 133 
 
 Evocation 134, 261 
 
 characteristic disturbances of 277 
 of coordinated movements . . 186 
 
 a defect of 246 
 
 failures of 264 
 
 of an idea 144 
 
 mental 183 
 
 weakness of the 320 
 
 Evolution of the writing move- 
 ment 50 
 
 Faculties, distinction between 
 
 the, and the acquisitions . . 130 
 
 inventive and corrective 127 
 
 mental, not found among 
 
 defectives 132 
 
 Fallieres 266 
 
 Fatigue, relation of to the ab- 
 sence of effort 43 
 
 Feeling, idea and, make one . . 314 
 Figures, immediate repetition 
 
 of 32 
 
 memory for 39 
 
 recitation of 89 
 
 Fool, an educated 125 
 
 Functioning and development.. 271 
 
 difficulty of 236 
 
 diflficulty of 260 
 
 insufficiency of 289 
 
 Galiard 37 
 
 General paralysis 219 
 
 psychological signs of 234 
 
 General paralytics, delirium 
 
 frequent among 265 
 
 mental level of .224 
 
 paralytic, Samse .262 
 
INDEX 
 
 325 
 
 General, the suggestion of the. 109 
 
 Gentil, handwriting of 47 
 
 Gestures, slowness of 240 
 
 Global, disturbance is 294 
 
 Grammar of Victor 207 
 
 Greffage 236, 254 
 
 Griffon, moron 23, 37, 119 
 
 reaction time 35 
 
 Hearing-mutes 178 
 
 Horse, a learned 176 
 
 Idea, directing, fails 135 
 
 the directing 134 
 
 Idiot, capacity of 168 
 
 does not coordinate 137 
 
 extra-social 25 
 
 Idiots are mute 132 
 
 character of 12 
 
 pain among 58 
 
 Illusions in exterior perceptions 247 
 in verbal perceptions 248 
 
 Images, motor, of articulation. 183 
 thought without 151, 216 
 
 Imagination, too much 127 
 
 weak 127 
 
 Imbecile, an, and a general 
 
 paralytic 290 
 
 anti-social 25 
 
 a well behaved pupil 29 
 
 capacity of 168 
 
 does not actually resemble a 
 normal child of same mental 
 
 age 161 
 
 equal to a normal person. . . . 140 
 
 ideation of 71 
 
 is one born poor 234 
 
 loquacious (Cab ussel) 78 
 
 observation of an 164 
 
 of forty, the same he was ten 
 
 years ago 161 
 
 the mentality of 140 
 
 the work of an 103 
 
 Imbeciles, a pity to teach 94 
 
 and number sense 86 
 
 character of 16 
 
 obtuseness to pain 63 
 
 the advantage of studying. . . 161 
 
 Imbeciles, the species for the 
 
 genus 9 
 
 vocabulary of 37 
 
 Impossible, nothing is, to man. 279 
 
 Inertia 265 
 
 of comprehension 249 
 
 what is functional 269 
 
 Instinct, abused word 315 
 
 Instincts, dominate the 140 
 
 Instruction, a matter of 130 
 
 attribute errors to 125 
 
 dangerous 93 
 
 Intellectual, acts in general 95 
 
 Intelligence 131 
 
 a certain quality in 43 
 
 activity of, distinguished from 
 
 level of 73 
 
 and perception 51 
 
 distinction between idea- 
 tional and instinctive 297 
 
 does suggestibility depend 
 
 upon 114 
 
 ideational 315 
 
 instinctive 315 
 
 language as a sign of 193 
 
 not necessary in weight dis- 
 crimination 57 
 
 not required 89 
 
 that lacks penetration 103 
 
 Interpretation 97 
 
 Introspection, superannuated. . 151 
 Ireland, W 89 
 
 Judgment 146 
 
 acts as a check 127 
 
 Key, comparison of the 145 
 
 Kraepelin 116, 161,219 
 
 Language, acquisition of 51 
 
 as a sign of human intelli- 
 gence 193 
 
 evolution of 198 
 
 intellectual level necessary 
 
 for the formation of 197 
 
 lack of depends on weakness 
 
 of intelligence 179, 181 
 
 of psychology 162 
 
326 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Language, the relation between 
 
 thought and 210 
 
 stages in the acquisition of . . 185 
 
 Lapsus calami 240 
 
 Laraze, normal but unstable.. . 18 
 Length of lines, perception of. 53 
 
 L'Esprit faux 118 
 
 Life, real, a solution of problems. 95 
 
 Lisping I72 
 
 Locksmith, illustration of the . . 140 
 
 Macolard, Mme., senile dement 298 
 
 Manners, lack of good 147 
 
 Marie, quoted 193 
 
 Measuring Scale, applicable to 
 
 dements 223 
 
 M. Meillet, plan for an indi- 
 vidual linguistic study.... 206 
 
 Memory, animal 88 
 
 for figures 39 
 
 Memories, slowness in the re- 
 call of certain 237 
 
 Mental defective distinguished 
 
 from the dement 273 
 
 Mental instability 20 
 
 Mental level of Beauchamp 225 
 
 types of character and 25 
 
 Merlin, quoted 117 
 
 Microcephalic, Cabussel 38 
 
 Mind, the genesis of 130 
 
 Moliere, quoted 125 
 
 Money, difficult operations 90 
 
 wishing to borrow 307 
 
 Moron, how a, can have I'es- 
 
 prit faux 118 
 
 Morons, character of 16 
 
 vocabulary of 37 
 
 Moronity 130 
 
 Movement 44 
 
 quickness of 32, 33 
 
 Music Box, measuring the at- 
 tention 33 
 
 is papa ! 184 
 
 N'importequisme 142, 172 
 
 Number, contrast between 
 
 animal and verbal 94 
 
 sense 86 
 
 Pain, the sense of 58 
 
 Papa, music box 185 
 
 Paralytic, the, shows indiffer- 
 ence 263 
 
 Paralytics, excellent subjects 
 
 for the tests 223 
 
 Paris, fortune, river 124 
 
 Patience, game of 100, 143 
 
 Pedagogy 152 
 
 Pedagogical examination, ref- 
 erence table of 282 
 
 Penetration, lack of 143 
 
 Perception, fineness of equals 
 
 the normal 56 
 
 and intelligence 51 
 
 intelligence of 57 
 
 verbal 174 
 
 weakness of intelligence and 
 
 delicacy of 53 
 
 Perceptions incomplete 245 
 
 Personality of the experimenter. 36 
 
 Philippon 250 
 
 Photograph, posing for a 33 
 
 Pictures, perception of 96 
 
 Pins, counted 204 
 
 Poire, Mme., general paralytic. 318 
 Portraits: 
 
 Vouzin 12-14 
 
 Cretin 15 
 
 Beauvisage 17 
 
 Laraze 19 
 
 Denise 21, 22 
 
 Victor 23 
 
 Albert 74, 111 
 
 Cabussel 79, 81 
 
 Griffon 119 
 
 Binet 159 
 
 Philippon 250, 251 
 
 Mme. Solas 274 
 
 Mme. Macolard 298 
 
 Mme. Poire 318, 319 
 
 Practical life, the knowledge of. 285 
 
 Problems, the solving of 95 
 
 Pronunciation defective 183 
 
 Psychogenetics 9 
 
 Psychogenetic method, a new. . 159 
 
 Ps3^chogenesis of language 163 
 
 Psychology a science of action. 152 
 
INDEX 
 
 327 
 
 Psychology of acquisition 171 
 
 of conservation 171 
 
 experimental 159 
 
 functional 151 
 
 pathological 159 
 
 structural 151 
 
 PuUulation, lack of 143 
 
 Question only partially under- 
 stood 257 
 
 Reaction time 32, 65 
 
 Reaction times of Madame 
 
 Solas 280 
 
 Reaction time shorter in de- 
 fectives than in normals. . . 71 
 
 Reading a barrier 131 
 
 Rebellious, the 11 
 
 Reflection 31 
 
 Resemblances, perception of... 51 
 
 Residues 280 
 
 Rhymes 103 
 
 Ridiculous, sense of the, not 
 
 lost 304 
 
 Scribbling of Vouzin 44 
 
 Sensibility, investigation of . . . . 51 
 Sensitivity, difficulties of study- 
 ing in the feeble-minded. . . 52 
 
 Sentence, construct a 103 
 
 Sentences, length and nature of 
 
 Victor's 207 
 
 Sidis, Boris 114 
 
 Snow, black 116 
 
 Social attention 30 
 
 feelings, distinctive among 
 
 defectives 24 
 
 Solas, Mme., general paralytic. 274 
 
 Species, the genus for the 142 
 
 Speech, an art 131 
 
 articulate 189 
 
 comprehension always pre- 
 cedes 181 
 
 of automatic recitation 189 
 
 of denomination 190 
 
 of repetition 190 
 
 psychological condition of . . . 181 
 Suggestion, imbeciles can resist. 114 
 
 Suggestibility 104 
 
 Synthesis 129 
 
 Test, the reason a general par- 
 alytic fails in, is not the 
 
 same as for an imbecile 272 
 
 Tests, of voluntary effort 32 
 
 Thought, the adaptation of 137 
 
 a scheme of 128, 133 
 
 consists in an adaptation 147 
 
 consista in what 211 
 
 the direction of 133 
 
 distinct from the image 215 
 
 not a passive state 134 
 
 origin of the scheme of 148 
 
 power of directing the 137 
 
 tends to a determination 138 
 
 what remains of a 314 
 
 Time of reaction 34 
 
 Tricolor 126 
 
 Unconscious, relation of the 
 
 conscious to the 152 
 
 Verbal replies, the form of ... . 287 
 
 Victor's definitions 98 
 
 Victor, diagnosis of 206 
 
 imbecile 22 
 
 note book of 48 
 
 Vocabulary of Denise 170 
 
 Voluntary effort 32 
 
 Vouzin 26 
 
 idiot 12 
 
 scribbling of 45 
 
 Vowels better pronounced than 
 
 the consonants 173 
 
 Walkers, the illustration of two 
 
 poor 296 
 
 Weights, experiment of 53 
 
 impossible to perceive the 
 
 difference 136 
 
 Word comprehension 190 
 
 conditions for pronouncing a. 182 
 Words, calling up the maximum 
 
 number 36 
 
 cited 37 
 
 definitions of 97 
 
328 INDEX 
 
 Words, designate objects 183 Writing sample of: 
 
 difficulty in pronouncing 238 Denise 46 
 
 thoughts without 151. 314 Gentil 47 
 
 Writings of Vousin, Victor, etc.. 44 Victor 48 
 
 Writing sample of : Albert 48 
 
 Vouzin , 45 Wurtzburg, method of 148 
 
The Following Pages Contain Advertisements tf Books 
 and Pamphlets from the Vineland Laboratory 
 
 FEEBLE -MINDEDNESS: ITS CAUSES AND TONSEC JENCES 
 BY HENRY H. GODDARD, PH.D. 
 
 Cloth, 8vo, 599 pp., $4.00 postpaid 
 
 "A book based upon a case study of mental defectiveness carried out 
 by the Vineland Research Laboratory. It contains a report of 327 cases 
 investigated by field workers with conclusions drawn from them and com- 
 ments on the relation of feeble-mindedness to such social problems as 
 prostitution, alcoholism, pauperism, etc. Contents: Social problems; 
 Reliability of the data; The data; Causes; Discussion of the data; Mendel's 
 law of inheritance; Is feeble-mindedness a unit character? Is the inheri- 
 tance of feeble-mindedness in accordance with the Mendelian law? Eu- 
 genics; Practical Applications." — Book Review Digest. 
 
 "The work stands pre-eminent in presenting the largest and most com- 
 plete collection of the first-hand data concerning feeble-minded people 
 that has yet been produced. — The Survey. 
 
 "Dr. Goddard has performed an invaluable service in writing this book, 
 which may be recommended without reserve to physicians, educators, legis- 
 lators, and all others who are interested in social welfare." — Medical 
 Record. 
 
 "Not only the psychologist and special student, but teachers, parents 
 and social workers will find this book a dependable and illuminating treat- 
 ment of the many degrees of Viariation from the normal that exist in cer- 
 tain children, as it is, also, a profoundly suggestive study of what may be 
 done with this unfortunate class." — Washington, D. C, Star. 
 
 "Dr. Goddard will be remembered as the author of 'The Kallikak 
 Family,' perhaps the most absorbing narrative ever written in its par- 
 ticular field; the present volume possesses a similar interest, though the 
 field of treatment is necessarily broader and the histories of the subjects 
 briefer." — Springfield, Mass., Republican. 
 
 "Every reader of the book must be struck by the accuracy with which 
 the investigation has been carried on, the care with which the data have 
 been checked up, and the conscientious conservatism which has guarded 
 the writer in his somewhat radical conclusions." — M.'A. Hopkins. 
 
 For Sale at the Training School at Vineland, New Jersey 
 
Two More Books by the Same Author 
 
 THE KALLIKAK FAMILY 
 Cloth, 8vo, $1.60 postpaid 
 
 "Dr. Goddard's book gives the thoughtful reader much food for reflec- 
 tion. It demonstrates most forcibly that the feeble-minded in our midst 
 constitute a distinct menace to our social life." — Medical Times. 
 
 "No more striking example of the supreme force of heredity could be 
 desired." — The Dial. 
 
 "The most illuminating and complete of all the studies in heredity that 
 have ever been made, with the view of showing the descent of mental 
 deficiency." — Bull, oj the Medical and Chirurgical Faculty of Maryland. 
 
 "Dr. Goddard has made a 'find' ; and he has also had the training which 
 enables him to utilize his discovery to the utmost." — American Journal oj 
 Psychology. 
 
 "I doubt if there is in all literature a more damning presentation of 
 how one single sin can perpetuate itself in generations of untold misery and 
 suffering, to the end of time." — Editor Minneapolis Journal. 
 
 SCHOOL TRAINING OF DEFECTIVE CHILDREN 
 Cloth, 98 pp., 90 cents postpaid 
 
 "The book is a comprehensive study of the defective child problem and 
 should be found useful to all who are seeking help towards its solution. 
 It should prove exceptionally useful to school teachers in the 'grades,' 
 who are constantly confronted with the problems involved in the care and 
 training of mental defectives." — Springfield, Mass., Republican. 
 
 "The picking out of defective children from among the whole school 
 population, and the proper plan of training them is discussed in detail by 
 Dr. Goddard, with special attention to the new provisions which need to 
 be made in school organization, equipment, selection of teachers and su- 
 perintendence. The book is short, very readable and not lacking in in- 
 direct light on the training of the normal child." — Boston Evening Tran- 
 script. 
 
 "It is brief and clearly written and puts the problem with which it deals 
 before the public in a forcible and simple fashion." — Nation. 
 
 "Nowhere is there to be found so useful and all round treatment of 
 these problems in the public schools." — Journal of Education. 
 
 For Sale at The Training School at Vineland, New Jersey 
 
Latest Book by Dr. Goddard 
 
 THE CRIMINAL IMBECILE 
 
 (An Analysis of Three Remarkable Murder Cases) 
 
 Cloth, 8vo, $1.60 postpaid 
 
 "Mr. Goddard, director of the department of research at the Vineland 
 Training School and author of ' The Kallikak Family' presents in this book 
 an analysis of three murder cases. He considers them typical of a large 
 proportion of criminal cases in which the relation of imbecility to crime is 
 not taken into account. He believes that 'a clear conception of the nature 
 of the imbecile and of his relation to crime will inevitably result in a most 
 desirable change in our criminal procedure.' The cases described were the 
 first in which the Binet-Simon tests were admitted in evidence." — Book 
 Review Digest. 
 
 "Dr. Goddard gives us a competent, scientific analysis of three murder 
 cases. He is able to show in plain judicial and convincing fashion that 
 the three culprits were actually imbeciles, and as such, irresponsible. 
 There is no waste sentimentality about the book; the scientific data present 
 themselves. It is refreshing to know that there are adequate scientific tests 
 which can actually be utilized for a court of law, and that these tests 
 promise to go far to eradicate the scandals of expert testimony in cases 
 of alleged insanity of acknowledged criminals." — Boston Herald. 
 
 John W. Davis, director of the Bureau of Attendance of the Depart- 
 ment of Education of New York City says, "Permit me to congratulate 
 you on presenting clearly and succinctly a matter that should be better 
 understood by our professions. Chapters IV and V should be in the 
 hands of every teacher, even though the whole book could not be." 
 
 "Teachers, priests, parents and preachers would do well to read this 
 book for themselves." — Cleveland Leader. 
 
 "A conspicuously illuminating piece of work that should mark a new 
 epoch in the treatment of this type of criminal." — /. P. Lichtenberger. 
 
 "The contribution is peculiarly valuable in showing how the recogni- 
 tion of abnormality is an expert matter." — Dial. 
 
 "A new standard has been established in criminal procedure. It has 
 been recognized that weakness of mind, or in other words feeble-mind- 
 edness, as an excuse for crime is in the same category with insanity. This 
 means little less than a revolution in the treatment of criminals. Mr. 
 Goddard' s book, giving very valuable information, has also the interest of 
 romance." — Boston Transcript. 
 
 For Sale at The Training School at Vineland, New Jersey 
 
THE DEVELOPMENT OF INTELLIGENCE IN CHILDREN (The 
 
 Binet-Simon Scale). By Alfred Binet, Sc.D., and Th. Simon, M.D. 
 Translated by Elizabeth S. Kite, with introduction by Henry H. God- 
 dard. 8vo, 336 pp. S2.00 postpaid. 
 
 This book comprises the complete writings of the authors relative 
 to their Scale. This is the first appearance in English of the complete 
 description and explanation of the tests. The present book shows the 
 origin and history of the Scale, its evolution in the minds of its 
 authors, their methods of standardizing and the method of using. It 
 is a complete guide to the tests. All psychologists and educators as well 
 as others who use the Scale, and all who are interested in any way in 
 testing intelligence will find this book of great value. 
 
 ANTHROPOMETRY AS AN AID TO MENTAL DIAGNOSIS. A 
 
 simple method for examination of subnormals. By Edgar A. Doll, 
 Assistant Psychologist of the Research Department of the Training 
 School, Vineland, N. J. 8vo, 91 pp., paper 75c., postpaid. 
 
 This book shows a new and simple method of making a pre- 
 liminary diagnosis of feeble-mindedness by means of six anthropo- 
 metric measurements. It is based on a statistical study of normal 
 and defective children. 
 
 THE BINET-SIMON MEASURING SCALE FOR INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 Revised Edition. An adaptation of Binet's last Scale for use with 
 American children. A most convenient form for those who would use 
 the Scale with school children, (15 cents.) 
 
 SENSORY DISCRIMINATION IN NORMAL AND FEEBLE-MINDED 
 CHILDREN. An experimental study of discrimination of lifted 
 weights in relation to mental age. By Anna M. Petersen, formerly 
 research student and E. A. Doll, Assistant Psychologist, Research 
 Department. The Training School at Vineland. (5 cents.) 
 
 THE HEIGHT AND WEIGHT OF FEEBLE-MINDED CHILDREN IN 
 AMERICAN INSTITUTIONS. A statistical study of nearly 12,000 
 mental defectives from American Institutions. By Henry H. God- 
 dard. (10 cents.) 
 
 WOOLLEY AND FISCHER'S "MENTAL AND PHYSICAL MEASURE- 
 MENTS OF WORKING CHILDREN." A Critical Review. By E. 
 A. Doll. (10 cents.) 
 
 1. 901^ 
 
 For Sale at The Training School at Vineland, New Jersey 
 

 
 
 ,•0 
 
 yO °x. 
 
 .0 o " X 
 
 
 ^/^ ^ , X 
 
 
 
 "o o"- 
 
 ■%■ 
 
 
 K*' '*.- 
 
 ^.r<:^M\ 
 
 ,0(3. 
 
 
 ^^ v^ 
 
 .^ " 
 
 .^' 
 
 '^^ 
 
 ,v, - 
 
 
 
 x^^^ 
 
 ^^ -n^. 
 
 
 
 
 O''^ 
 
 C^ 
 
 &^ ' 
 
 ©0 
 
 ^OO^ 
 

 n- Ci_ ^ ^>-i-5-' ft c i* cU i- 
 
 l%\ 
 
 r 
 
 
 
 0° 
 
 o5 -^ci- 
 
 <^" 
 
 ^%^ . 
 
 '^^^ %. I 
 
 n-' <v-, ^ ^ics^s^ ft or cf-^ i- 
 
 
 V<i 
 
 ^-^ ^.,^^A^% -P 
 
 
 
 .V 
 
 .■«!jii 
 
 • ■^ ' * ft s ^ \'^ <?, ^ <. V -^ ^0 
 
 ^^ o^*^ v'^:i,% %> rO^ ^''^ -^^ '<2o 
 
 •A/ C'^. >,V- 
 
 
 r -^ 
 
 ^0O, 
 
 
 
 
 >A^^ Z' ^ \ 
 
 > "^ "fiW/^'^ 
 
 i'^^ ^:^^t& 
 
 
 
 
 ^'0<i 
 
 V ^ 
 
 .^ 
 
 -^'^v''.;^^'^^ ^* 
 
 
 
 "oo^ ,^- ^ V"