"You may open the abdomens of living cats, guinea-pigs, and rabbits, and apply irritating chemicals to their exposed intestines, causing what you are pleased to term 'peculiar rhythmic movements' and 'circus movements,' but what the unlearned would call violent spasms and convulsions, as was done by Dr. Batten and Mr. Bokenham, at St. Bartholomew's Hospital, last year. You may dissect out the kidneys of living dogs and cats which you have first paralyzed by curare—the 'hellish oorali' of Lord Tennyson's poem, so called because the animal's sufferings are intensified by its use, and it is unable to move a limb, or to bite, scratch, howl, or otherwise interfere with the operator's comfort. You may do this, as was done by Dr. John Rose Bradford, at University College, London. You may infect ninety cats with cholera poison, and bake numbers of them alive, as did Dr. Lander Brunton. You may inoculate the eyes of rabbits and guinea-pigs with the material of tubercle, fix glass balls filled with croton oil—a horribly irritating drug—and stitch them into the muscles of the backs of rabbits, then crush them amongst their tissues, as did Dr. Watson Cheyne, at King's College, London. You may slice, plough, burn, and pick away the brains of monkeys and dogs, as did Dr. Ferrier. You may slowly starve to death animals whose vagi nerves have been cut and stimulated by electricity, as was done by Dr. Gaskell, of this University, in 1878. You may cut out the spleens and livers from living rabbits, pigeons, and ducks, as was done by Dr. William Hunter, of St. John's College, Cambridge, in 1888, or do a thousand other acts which in a coster-monger or a farm laborer would be termed and dealt with as acts of atrocious cruelty, punishable by imprisonment. But you have not learned the cure for a single malady which afflicts the human body."

THE MOVEMENTS OF THE TONGUE

There is another mode of proceeding by which satisfactory results can be obtained, and which was the only one I resorted to in the beginning and for many years afterwards; namely, the watching of the movements of the tongue.

The muscle of the tongue, for vocal utterance, is the most important in our organization. It appears to me, in fact, as if in its tip there were a concentration of all the threads which control our existence; and that it is, therefore, representative of an epitome of our entire being. As all sciences, in a general, though in some instances perhaps somewhat remote, sense, centre in the science of life, so do the controlling elements in our composition centre in the tip of the tongue. If it were possible to analyze it spiritually as well as physically, we would obtain a compendium of knowledge far in advance of any there is in existence in the world at the present time. Still, it must be admitted that this would, to some extent, depend upon whose tongue's tip was submitted to such analyzation. The fact of the tip of the tongue being removed by surgical operation without serious effect upon the mental condition of the individual does not greatly affect my assertion. In that case the concentration must have taken place at the tongue's new tip or end.

The tongue's tip, with as infallible correctness as the magnetic needle points towards the north pole, indicates the exact spot whence sounds come, or should come, to appear on the surface in a clear and undefiled manner. The tongue's tip, for English vowel sounds, does not touch any part of the oral cavity. It is constantly changing its position, however, and for every vowel sound, or shade of a vowel sound, points in the direction of or approaches the spot whence a sound comes, or should come. To ascertain such spot with exactitude, it is but necessary to extend the tongue's tip until it reaches the wall of the oral cavity during or, still better, immediately after the utterance of a vocal sound. Upon reaching that spot the tongue may continue in the same position of contact and the sound can still be uttered with entire purity. Change this point of contact, however, but in the least, and such sound will at once cease to come to the surface. Yet, while apparently a sound comes from the direction in which the tip of the tongue points, this is not really the case. In pointing in a given direction, the tongue opens up the channels of the œsophagus and the trachea in a special manner for the proper emission of a given sound, beneath as well as above, and to the left as well as to the right of its radix. In changing the tongue's position but in the least, these channels will open in a different direction, which may then be the proper medium for the emission of another sound, but not for the one under consideration.

The general mode in which the radix of the tongue turns upon its axis is the direct and fundamental cause productive of the various languages of the world; such general mode necessitating special movements of the tongue for the production of the sounds of any special language. Regarding the proper emission of consonant sounds every one knows that the same depends upon the particular spot of contact of the tongue's tip with parts of the oral cavity. As a matter of fact, such point of contact also opens, the same as with vowel sounds, the tubes of the trachea and œsophagus at the tongue's radix in the proper manner for the emission of a given stream of air for the production of such consonant sounds.

Every imaginable opprobrious epithet has been by singers bestowed upon the tongue. "This obstreperous muscle which is always in the way," says one. "This troublesome member will persist in going up when you want it to remain down"; "intractable," "contrary," "obstinate," "wilful," "ungovernable," "stubborn." All these expressions have been used by writers on the voice in connection with the tongue, simply because it would not yield to unreasonable and unnatural demands made upon it; the tongue, being a free agent, persisting in its natural rights—as much so as any independent democratic citizen persists in his.

My observations having been made in connection with a foreign language, I had a better opportunity for watching my tongue's movements than I would have had had I attempted to watch them in connection with my native tongue; the movements of the tongue in connection with the latter being so rapid and involuntary that it becomes exceedingly difficult to make any observations at all. It was like having this foreign (English) tongue exist independently alongside of my own, my intelligence watching it, and guiding it, now here, now there, until it would touch the right spot for the right English sound. Knowing what the right sound was and should be, I never stopped until the same came to the surface.

In trying to find my way in this foreign (English) territory of the oral cavity, I might compare my English tongue to the stick in the hands of a blind man, who uses it in place of his eyes to ascertain his whereabouts, so as to enable him to proceed on his way in the right direction. With my "stick" I felt in every direction, till I found I could steer clear of obstacles straight into the channel of the sound I had been seeking. From my German post of observation I was thus enabled to watch the movements of my English tongue in its efforts to find itself "at home" in this foreign territory, while I was at the same time guiding it from one point therein to another.

I want to call especial attention to and reiterate the fact that the exact point whence a sound proceeds, or seems to proceed, can, by extending the tongue's tip, be quite as well (if not better) ascertained, after the utterance of a sound, as during such utterance; that is immediately after the tongue has ceased to vibrate for such sound.