Mentally Defective Children

by Alfred Binet; Théodore Simon

A few days later the two authors of the present work took the field. The long preliminary conversations which they had had together about this subject had convinced them that they would encounter opposition. But they decided to treat the question as one treats a scientific matter—with perseverance, with courage, and without parti pris of any kind.

Let us subdivide the question to make it more plain. We proposed to discover the value of a school. To make such an inquiry really complete, it would be necessary to consider the question from two points of view—the one educational, the other social.

The educational return consists in the degree of instruction which the institution succeeds in giving to its pupils, after so much time, and with so much expense. In the case of an institution for the sick, the return will take the medical form of a cure or improvement of health. In order to estimate such various returns, it would evidently be necessary to be in possession of various data: (1) A knowledge of the state of instruction or the state of health of the subjects on their admission to the school; (2) a knowledge of their state of instruction or of health on leaving, so that one would be able to estimate by comparison what they owe to the school; (3) a knowledge of the cost for each pupil, whether for instruction or for medical expenses.

The social return consists in the place taken by the pupils in society. This depends in part, it is clear, upon the educational return, but only in part. One could imagine a school, and there are some of the kind, which only cares about producing graduates, without thinking of what will become of them in life, even if they go to the dogs. Every class, every school, for defectives ought to aim at rendering its pupils socially useful. It is not a question of enriching their minds, but of giving them the means of working for their living. This is an important question. Upon this depends our complete and final judgment of the utility of special education.

And be it understood this is not a simple question. Nothing is simple in the sphere of sociological phenomena, and one cannot get hold of an atom of truth except by inquiries bristling with difficulties of all kinds—inquiries whose rules, moreover, are not yet known, but which will certainly be known some day. It is quite necessary.

In order to discover the social return of an institution, school, or hospital, there are many data to be brought together. Here are some of them. What is the number of those who are ultimately able to look after themselves? For how long a time are they able to do so? To what extent have they been assisted by what they acquired at school? And, lastly, what becomes of the failures?

But whatever the social or educational return may be, it would be most important to know what would have become of similar cases who had received no such instruction, or, rather, who had been instructed or treated by different methods.

A single example will show the importance of these reservations. Recently an alienist wanted to prove that all the idiots, without exception, who had been treated in his asylum had been improved. He published copious notes upon these children, which had been taken during several years by different people—the physician, resident doctor, attendant, teacher, etc. On reading these observations one learned that one child, who on admission was unable to walk, by-and-by began to do so. He had grown; he had also begun to speak, etc. In all this there was nothing surprising, and we imagine that, in spite of his optimism, the doctor, who is the author of these observations, would not pretend to credit an increase in size to his medico-pedagogical treatment. As to the rest of the development of the faculties we know nothing. It is possible that an idiot who has ceased to be dirty, or who has learned to dress himself, would have done so in any case without object-lessons. It would be necessary to understand the natural development of idiocy in order to estimate exactly the service which had been rendered by the medico-pedagogical treatment. Otherwise sceptics will suspect that three-quarters of what is claimed to be the result of treatment is really due to nature.

After these preliminaries, let us now turn to our inquiry.

At the Salpêtrière.—Here we were received most kindly. The superintendent of the hospital introduced us to a most excellent woman, Mme. Meusy, who was at that time head-mistress of the school for defectives at the Salpêtrière. This is a little school with about 140 girl pupils. It is part of the clinique of Dr. Voisin. The school is divided into four classes, each of which is under a lady teacher. It is a modest school, and, we think, little known. Elementary education is given there, and, be it understood, the teachers make a point of object-lessons and the training of the senses. But this education has no original feature. It simply follows what is done elsewhere. There is a workshop where the patients skilfully manufacture artificial flowers. Dr. Voisin has for a long time been asking for a laundry, for the sake of the patients who require physical exercise, but he has not been able to get it.