The Baby, for one thing, has a very small nose, insignificant compared with the size of its jaw. At least scientists find that this is the case with their babies—if would, of course, be invidious to make such a remark regarding their friends' children; and still more so to add, that in this the Baby differs from the human adult, and somewhat resembles the Ape, in which the nose is still less prominent, and the jaw still more so. Observations have been made, too, regarding the Baby's remarkable power of "holding on" with its hands. While a Baby is, in most respects, a very weak creature, yet its powers of grip have been favourably compared with those of adult human beings. No one who has ever tried to rescue his watch or his hair from the clutches of a friend's Baby, will feel inclined to doubt the conclusions of scientific observers regarding the point in question.
The observations above referred to were made by Dr. Louis Robinson. He drew his conclusions from the study of sixty cases, all of them infants less than a month old; and of these at least half were tested within an hour of their birth.
In every instance except two, says Dr. Robinson, the child was able to hang on by its hands to the finger, or to a small stick three quarters of an inch in diameter, and to sustain the whole weight of its body for at least ten seconds. "In twelve cases, in infants under an hour old, half a minute passed before the grasp relaxed, and in three or four cases nearly a minute." In infants of about four days old, increased strength was shown, and "nearly all, when tried at this age, could sustain their weight for half a minute. At about a fortnight or three weeks after birth the faculty appeared to have attained its maximum, for several at this period succeeded in hanging for over a minute and a half, two for over two minutes, and one infant of three weeks old for two minutes thirty-five seconds!" "Thus," says Dr. Robinson, "a three-weeks-old baby can perform a feat of muscular strength that would tax the powers of many a healthy adult. If any of my readers doubt this," he adds, "let them try hanging by their hands from a horizontal bar for three minutes."
In these facts Dr. Robinson finds something to remind us of the ape-babies that owe their safety to their capability of holding on to a tree-climbing mother; and also something to suggest connection with an ancestor which, although well accustomed to the use of its hands, had yet to learn the use of its feet for walking on flat ground.
The same author, in discussing the "Meaning of a Baby's Footprint," has shown that the foot of a young child bears traces of adaptation to a state of existence in which it was used for purposes other than that of walking.
"The toes of infants," says Dr. Robinson, "are much more mobile than those of adults. The great toe is shorter than the second and third, and is often separated from the second by a considerable interval. The four outer toes can be, and frequently are, bent downwards so as to show a distinct knuckle on the upper aspect of the foot at the metatarso-phalangeal joint, and when at the same time the great toe is flexed and turned inwards towards the sole, the front part of the foot makes a very respectable fist. The great and little toes are often made to approach one another beneath the rest, and I have seen one child who could almost make them touch, and who habitually would endeavour to make the great toe oppose the others when any graspable object was brought into contact with the front part of the sole."[E]
[E] Nineteenth Century for May, 1892.
Regarding the lines in the sole of the foot, Dr. Robinson says: "The sole is covered with lines of a character exactly similar to those on the hand; and when the toes are bent downwards these become deep creases, showing that they are, like the palmar lines, the natural folding-places of the integument to facilitate the action of grasping.... The lines are scarcely visible at fourteen months old, and are only present in a few cases after the age of two years. In adults no trace of them can be seen when the foot is at rest, and only the faintest indication at one or two spots when the toes are flexed to the utmost. The obliteration is doubtless owing to the foot being used as an organ for progression rather than prehension, and it will be seen that the most distinct line crosses the sole at the spot where the epidermis is always dense and callous, and the subcutaneous tissues thickened into a cushion-like pad by the pressure and friction consequent on walking. This line undoubtedly marks the place where the chief fold in the skin was situated, when the toes were habitually clasped round some object such as the branch of a tree." It has been pointed out by other writers that the lines of the sole of the foot can plainly be seen in the adult foot of some savage races. It must be added, however, that the survival of the lines in the adult civilised foot is by no means so rare as Dr. Robinson's remarks would lead one to suppose. I have seen instances in which they were quite clearly marked. It must be added that anyone who wishes to confirm my observations in this respect must be careful not to mistake lines of disfigurement, caused by the pressure of boots, which are sufficiently common, for the primitive lines of the foot.
The child, as it grows, ceases to remind us of the ape. Its nose gets bigger as its toes cease to wriggle and learn to stand. But, for years of its life, it is only too apt to remind us of the savage. How greedy it often is! How readily it snatches that which does not belong to it! How quick it is to quarrel with its playmates, and to fight! How noisy when at play! How cross when it meets with disappointment! How fond of tawdry things! In all these qualities we see the history of the race, repeating itself in the life of the individual. The savage has preceded the civilised family—the child shows us the faults of a lower race. With the elapse of years they disappear, and are replaced by the more amiable and gracious manners of the adult human being.
Nor do we need to go into the nursery to find links with our inferiors. Much, indeed far too much, has been written of late years about "atavistic degeneracy"; that is to say, degeneracy which imitates the characteristics of our forefathers. Many things which are classed as diseases, whether of the body, mind, or moral nature, may be explained in this way. Take the gills, which, as we have stated, exist in all vertebrates, but not in the adult of the highest groups. In a sickly individual, even among the highest vertebrates, traces of these are sometimes seen existing in the adult, as a gap or open space in the neck, called by the medical man "cervical fistula": this is an instance of degeneracy in the body. Take, for another instance, the kleptomaniac, who snatches up everything he takes a fancy to, although he is not in want. This is degeneracy of the mind, a relic of savage nature out of place in civilised man. Yet the gill-space is an ancestral feature which has its right time to appear, though it is out of place in the adult; and the "want-to-snatch" stage, as we have already seen, is quite natural in the young child. A parallel instance to the last is that of the hysterical girl who invents all sorts of tales about her harrowing adventures, weaving in stories she has heard of other people, with an account of her own life. She is an impostor; but her instinct for weaving yarns is that of the savage, who is the more admired by his fellows the more he can show himself a liar. Even the dangerous criminal, such as the Anarchist assassin, is comparable with the treacherous savage, who stabs his guest, and with the fierce animal that bites the hand that feeds it.