TOUCH TRANSMISSION BY ELECTRICITY IN THE EDUCATION OF DEAF-MUTES.
Progress in electrical science is daily causing the world to open its eyes in wonder and the scientist to enlarge his hopes for yet greater achievements. The practical uses to which this subtile fluid, electricity, is being put are causing changes to be made in time-tested methods of doing things in domestic, scientific, and business circles, and the time has passed when startling propositions to accomplish this or that by the assistance of electricity are dismissed with incredulous smiles. This being the case, no surprise need follow the announcement of a device to facilitate the imparting of instruction to deaf children which calls into requisition some service from electricity.
The sense of touch is the direct medium contemplated, and it is intended to convey, with accuracy and rapidity, messages from the operator (the teacher) to the whole class simultaneously by electrical transmission.[1]
[Footnote 1: By the same means two deaf-mutes, miles apart, might converse with each other, and the greatest difficulty in the way of a deaf-mute becoming a telegraph operator, that of receiving messages, would be removed. The latter possibilities are incidentally mentioned merely as of scientific interest, and not because of their immediate practical value. The first mentioned use to which the device may be applied is the one considered by the writer as possibly of practical value, the consideration of which suggested the appliance to him.]
An alphabet is formed upon the palm of the left hand and the inner side of the fingers, as shown by the accompanying cut, which, to those becoming familiar with it, requires but a touch upon a certain point of the hand to indicate a certain letter of the alphabet.
A rapid succession of touches upon various points of the hand is all that is necessary in spelling a sentence. The left hand is the one upon which the imaginary alphabet is formed, merely to leave the right hand free to operate without change of position when two persons only are conversing face to face.
The formation of the alphabet here figured is on the same principle as one invented by George Dalgarno, a Scottish schoolmaster, in the year 1680, a cut of which maybe seen on page 19 of vol. ix. of the Annals, accompanying the reprint of a work entitled "Didascalocophus." Dalgarno's idea could only have been an alphabet to be used in conversation between two persons tête à tête, and--except to a limited extent in the Horace Mann School and in Professor Bell's teaching--has not come into service in the instruction of deaf-mutes or as a means of conversation. There seems to have been no special design or system in the arrangement of the alphabet into groups of letters oftenest appearing together, and in several instances the proximity would seriously interfere with distinct spelling; for instance, the group "u," "y," "g," is formed upon the extreme joint of the little finger. The slight discoverable system that seems to attach to his arrangement of the letters is the placing of the vowels in order upon the points of the fingers successively, beginning with the thumb, intended, as we suppose, to be of mnemonic assistance to the learner. Such assistance is hardly necessary, as a pupil will learn one arrangement about as rapidly as another. If any arrangement has advantage over another, we consider it the one which has so grouped the letters as to admit of an increased rapidity of manipulation. The arrangement of the above alphabet, it is believed, does admit of this. Yet it is not claimed that it is as perfect as the test of actual use may yet make it. Improvements in the arrangement will, doubtless, suggest themselves, when the alterations can be made with little need of affecting the principle.
In order to transmit a message by this alphabet, the following described appliance is suggested: A matrix of cast iron, or made of any suitable material, into which the person receiving the message (the pupil) places his left hand, palm down, is fixed to the table or desk. The matrix, fitting the hand, has twenty-six holes in it, corresponding in position to the points upon the hand assigned to the different letters of the alphabet. In these holes are small styles, or sharp points, which are so placed as but slightly to touch the hand. Connected with each style is a short line of wire, the other end of which is connected with a principal wire leading to the desk of the operator (the teacher), and there so arranged as to admit of opening and closing the circuit of an electric current at will by the simple touch of a button, and thereby producing along the line of that particular wire simultaneous electric impulses, intended to act mechanically upon all the styles connected with it. By these impulses, produced by the will of the sender, the styles are driven upward with a quick motion, but with only sufficient force to be felt and located upon the hand by the recipient. Twenty-six of these principal or primary wires are run from the teacher's desk (there connected with as many buttons) under the floor along the line of pupils' desks. From each matrix upon the desk run twenty-six secondary wires down to and severally connecting with the twenty-six primary wires under the floor. The whole system of wires is incased so as to be out of sight and possibility of contact with foreign substances. The keys or buttons upon the desk of the teacher are systematically arranged, somewhat after the order of those of the type writer, which allows the use of either one or both hands of the operator, and of the greatest attainable speed in manipulation. The buttons are labeled "a," "b," "c," etc., to "z," and an electric current over the primary wire running from a certain button (say the one labeled "a") affects only those secondary wires connected with the styles that, when excited, produce upon the particular spot of the hands of the receivers the tactile impression to be interpreted as "a." And so, whenever the sender touches any of the buttons on his desk, immediately each member of the class feels upon the palm of his hand the impression meant to be conveyed. The contrivance will admit of being operated with as great rapidity as it is probable human dexterity could achieve, i.e., as the strokes of an electric bell. It was first thought of conveying the impressions directly by slight electric shocks, without the intervention of further mechanical apparatus, but owing to a doubt as to the physical effect that might be produced upon the persons receiving, and as to whether the nerves might not in time become partly paralyzed or so inured to the effect as to require a stronger and stronger current, that idea was abandoned, and the one described adopted. A diagram of the apparatus was submitted to a skillful electrical engineer and machinist of Hartford, who gave as his opinion that the scheme was entirely feasible, and that a simple and comparatively inexpensive mechanism would produce the desired result.
TOUCH TRANSMISSION BY ELECTRICITY.
The matter now to consider, and the one of greater interest to the teacher of deaf children, is, Of what utility can the device be in the instruction of deaf-mutes? What advantage is there, not found in the prevailing methods of communication with the deaf, i.e., by gestures, dactylology, speech and speech-reading, and writing?
I. The language of gestures, first systematized and applied to the conveying of ideas to the deaf by the Abbe de l'Epee during the latter part of the last century, has been, in America, so developed and improved upon by Gallaudet, Peet, and their successors, as to leave but little else to be desired for the purpose for which it was intended. The rapidity and ease with which ideas can be expressed and understood by this "language" will never cease to be interesting and wonderful, and its value to the deaf can never fail of being appreciated by those familiar with it. But the genius of the language of signs is such as to be in itself of very little, if any, direct assistance in the acquisition of syntactical language, owing to the diversity in the order of construction existing between the English language and the language of signs. Sundry attempts have been made to enforce upon the sign-language conformity to the English order, but they have, in all cases known to the writer, been attended with failure. The sign-language is as immovable as the English order, and in this instance certainly Mahomet and the mountain will never know what it is to be in each other's embrace. School exercises in language composition are given with great success upon the basis of the sign-language. But in all such exercises there must be a translation from one language to the other. The desideratum still exists of an increased percentage of pupils leaving our schools for the deaf, possessing a facility of expression in English vernacular. This want has been long felt, and endeavoring to find a reason for the confessedly low percentage, the sign-language has been too often unjustly accused. It is only when the sign-language is abused that its merit as a means of instruction degenerates. The most ardent admirers of a proper use of signs are free to admit that any excessive use by the pupils, which takes away all opportunities to express themselves in English, is detrimental to rapid progress in English expression.
II. To the general public, dactylology or finger spelling is the sign-language, or the basis of that language, but to the profession there is no relation between the two methods of communication. Dactylology has the advantage of putting language before the eye in conformity with English syntax, and it has always held its place as one of the elements of the American or eclectic method. This advantage, however, is not of so great importance as to outweigh the disadvantages when, as has honestly been attempted, it asserts its independence of other methods. Very few persons indeed, even after long practice, become sufficiently skillful in spelling on the fingers to approximate the rapidity of speech. But were it possible for all to become rapid spellers, another very important requisite is necessary before the system could be a perfect one, that is, the ability to read rapid spelling. The number of persons capable of reading the fingers beyond a moderate degree of rapidity is still less than the number able to spell rapidly. While it is physically possible to follow rapid spelling for twenty or thirty minutes, it can scarcely be followed longer than that. So long as this is true, dactylology can hardly claim to be more than one of the elements of a system of instruction for the deaf.
III. Articulate speech is another of the elements of the eclectic method, employed with success inversely commensurate with the degree of deficiency arising from deafness. Where the English order is already fixed in his mind, and he has at an early period of life habitually used it, there is comparatively little difficulty in instructing the deaf child by speech, especially if he have a quick eye and bright intellect. But the number so favored is a small percentage of the great body of deaf-mutes whom we are called upon to educate. When it is used as a sole means of educating the deaf as a class its inability to stand alone is as painfully evident as that of any of the other component parts of the system. It would seem even less practicable than a sole reliance upon dactylology would be, for there can be no doubt as to what a word is if spelled slowly enough, and if its meaning has been learned. This cannot be said of speech. Between many words there is not, when uttered, the slightest visible distinction. Between a greater number of others the distinction is so slight as to cause an exceedingly nervous hesitation before a guess can be given. Too great an imposition is put upon the eye to expect it to follow unaided the extremely circumscribed gestures of the organs of speech visible in ordinary speaking. The ear is perfection as an interpreter of speech to the brain. It cannot correctly be said that it is more than perfection. It is known that the ear, in the interpretation of vocal sounds, is capable of distinguishing as many as thirty-five sounds per second (and oftentimes more), and to follow a speaker speaking at the rate of more than two hundred words per minute. If this be perfection, can we expect the eye of ordinary mortal to reach it? Is there wonder that the task is a discouraging one for the deaf child?
But it has been asserted that while a large percentage (practically all) of the deaf can, by a great amount of painstaking and practice, become speech readers in some small degree, a relative degree of facility in articulation is not nearly so attainable. As to the accuracy of this view, the writer cannot venture an opinion. Judging from the average congenital deaf-mute who has had special instruction in speech, it can safely be asserted that their speech is laborious, and far, very far, from being accurate enough for practical use beyond a limited number of common expressions. This being the case, it is not surprising that as an unaided means of instruction it cannot be a success, for English neither understood when spoken, nor spoken by the pupil, cannot but remain a foreign language, requiring to pass through some other form of translation before it becomes intelligible.
There are the same obstacles in the use of the written or printed word as have been mentioned in connection with dactylology, namely, lack of rapidity in conveying impressions through the medium of the English sentence.
I have thus hastily reviewed the several means which teachers generally are employing to impart the use of English to deaf pupils, for the purpose of showing a common difficulty. The many virtues of each have been left unnoticed, as of no pertinence to this article.
The device suggested at the beginning of this paper, claiming to be nothing more than a school room appliance intended to supplement the existing means for giving a knowledge and practice of English to the deaf, employs as its interpreter a different sense from the one universally used. The sense of sight is the sole dependence of the deaf child. Signs, dactylology, speech reading, and the written and printed word are all dependent upon the eye for their value as educational instruments. It is evident that of the two senses, sight and touch, if but one could be employed, the choice of sight as the one best adapted for the greatest number of purposes is an intelligent one; but, as the choice is not limited, the question arises whether, in recognizing the superior adaptability to our purpose of the one, we do not lose sight of a possibly important, though secondary, function in the other. If sight were all-sufficient, there would be no need of a combination. But it cannot be maintained that such is the case. The plan by which we acquire our vernacular is of divine, and not of human, origin, and the senses designed for special purposes are not interchangeable without loss. The theory that the loss of a certain sense is nearly, if not quite, compensated for by increased acuteness of the remaining ones has been exploded. Such a theory accuses, in substance, the Maker of creating something needless, and is repugnant to the conceptions we have of the Supreme Being. When one sense is absent, the remaining senses, in order to equalize the loss, have imposed upon them an unusual amount of activity, from which arises skill and dexterity, and by which the loss of the other sense is in some measure alleviated, but not supplied. No additional power is given to the eye after the loss of the sense of hearing other than it might have acquired with the same amount of practice while both faculties were active. The fact, however, that the senses, in performing their proper functions, are not overtaxed, and are therefore, in cases of emergency, capable of being extended so as to perform, in various degrees, additional service, is one of the wise providences of God, and to this fact is due the possibility of whatever of success is attained in the work of educating the deaf, as well as the blind.
In the case of the blind, the sense of touch is called into increased activity by the absence of the lost sense; while in the case of the deaf, sight is asked to do this additional service. A blind person's education is received principally through the two senses of hearing and touch. Neither of these faculties is so sensible to fatigue by excessive use as is the sense of sight, and yet the eye has, in every system of instruction applied to the deaf, been the sole medium. In no case known to the writer, excepting in the celebrated case of Laura Bridgman and a few others laboring under the double affliction of deafness and blindness, has the sense of touch been employed as a means of instruction.[1]
[Footnote 1: This article was written before Professor Bell had made his interesting experiments with his "parents' class" of a touch alphabet, to be used upon the pupil's shoulder in connection with the oral teaching.--E.A.F.]
Not taking into account the large percentage of myopes among the deaf, we believe there are other cogent reasons why, if found practicable, the use of the sense of touch may become an important element in our eclectic system of teaching. We should reckon it of considerable importance if it were ascertained that a portion of the same work now performed by the eye could be accomplished equally as well through feeling, thereby relieving the eye of some of its onerous duties.
We see no good reason why such accomplishment may not be wrought. If, perchance, it were discovered that a certain portion could be performed in a more efficient manner, its value would thus be further enhanced.
In theory and practice, the teacher of language to the deaf, by whatever method, endeavors to present to the eye of the child as many completed sentences as are nominally addressed to the ear--having them "caught" by the eye and reproduced with as frequent recurrence as is ordinarily done by the child of normal faculties.
In our hasty review of the methods now in use we noted the inability to approximate this desirable process as a common difficulty. The facility now ordinarily attained in the manipulation of the type writer, and the speed said to have been reached by Professor Bell and a private pupil of his by the Dalgarno touch alphabet, when we consider the possibility of a less complex mechanism in the one case and a more systematic grouping of the alphabet in the other, would lead us to expect a more rapid means of communication than is ordinarily acquired by dactylology, speech (by the deaf), or writing. Then the ability to receive the communication rapidly by the sense of feeling will be far greater. No part of the body except the point of the tongue is as sensible to touch as the tips of the fingers and the palm of the hand. Tactile discrimination is so acute as to be able to interpret to the brain significant impressions produced in very rapid succession. Added to this advantage is the greater one of the absence of any more serious attendant physical or nervous strain than is present when the utterances of speech fall upon the tympanum of the ear. To sum up, then, the advantages of the device we find--
First. A more rapid means of communication with the deaf by syntactic language, admitting of a greater amount of practice similar to that received through the ear by normal children.
Second. Ability to receive this rapid communication for a longer duration and without ocular strain.
Third. Perfect freedom of the eye to watch the expression on the countenance of the sender.
Fourth. In articulation and speech-reading instruction, the power to assist a class without distracting the attention of the eye from the vocal organs of the teacher.
Fifth. Freedom of the right hand of the pupil to make instantaneous reproduction in writing of the matter being received through the sense of feeling, thereby opening the way for a valuable class exercise.
Sixth. The possible mental stimulus that accompanies the mastery of a new language, and the consequent ability to receive known ideas through a new medium.
Seventh. A fresh variety of class exercises made possible.
The writer firmly believes in the good that exists in all methods that are, or are to be; in the interdependence rather than the independence of all methods; and in all school-room appliances tending to supplement or expedite the labors of the teacher, whether they are made of materials delved from the earth or snatched from the clouds.
S. TEFFT WALKER,
Superintendent of the Kansas Institution, Olathe, Kans.