Further, the records show that one ward of the Children’s Aid Society of New York rose to be a supreme court justice, another became chief executive of a Western city, while a third was elected auditor-general of a State. Two were elected to Congress, nine to State legislatures, and about a score to public offices of less importance. Twenty-four became clergymen; thirty-five, lawyers; nineteen, physicians; sixteen, journalists; twenty-nine, bankers; eighty-six, teachers; seven, high-school principals; two, school superintendents; and two, college professors. Farming, the army and navy, and various mercantile pursuits gave occupation to most of the rest.

Is it to be wondered, in view of such a showing, that most authorities are inclining more and more to find in a faulty environment rather than in a bad heredity the explanation of the boy who “goes wrong”? Not that it is as yet possible, and perhaps it never will be possible, to rule out entirely the idea of the “born criminal.” A small proportion of delinquents undoubtedly do show, almost from infancy, an irresistible and seemingly instinctive impulse to evil; but to just what extent this is due to inherited and irremediable conditions remains to be ascertained. Medical progress, indeed, is constantly making it clearer that many supposed instances of “innate depravity” are in reality the result of curable physical defects, and sometimes of defects that are comparatively slight.

To give a typical example, Professor Lightner Witmer, Director of the Psychological Clinic of the University of Pennsylvania, was once consulted about an eleven-year-old boy, of good family, who had been pronounced by several New York specialists “mentally defective” and “certain to prove unmanageable.” His father reported that he was unable to do correctly simple sums in addition and subtraction, and could not read a simple sentence without making a number of mistakes; also that he was cowardly, bad-tempered, and quarrelsome. In fine, the statements made concerning him seemed to stamp him as a fit subject for institutional care. But Professor Witmer’s preliminary testing caused him to take a somewhat hopeful view of the poor youngster’s condition.

“He was,” Professor Witmer says, in an interesting report he has made regarding the case (The Psychological Clinic, vol. ii, pp. 153–179), “a stocky, well-built, healthy-looking child. He had red hair, and the expression of his face suggested an unsteady temper. The brow was low, but not of a character to awaken a suspicion of mental deficiency. The shape of the aperture of the eyes indicated a possible arrest of fœtal development, but this was the only suspicious symptom. The teeth were in good condition, the mouth closed, the nose undeveloped, the nostrils small. A hasty examination showed the necessity of consulting an oculist, and the appearance of the nose and nostrils called for an examination of the naso-pharynx. The chest was fairly well developed, the voice was good, but he had a lisp, and his speech was a trifle thick. Hearing was normal. His manners at table were good. His gait was normal, the knee-jerks were present on both sides, the coordination of the hands was good.

“In his conversation with me and with his family, he seemed to me to be a normal boy of eleven, rather alert mentally, a self-contained, independent sort of boy. If I had visited the family casually, I would not have observed anything wrong with him. My first brief examination was therefore negative, and excepting for the history which the father and mother gave, I should have pronounced the boy normal, but probably suffering from some optical defect and from naso-pharyngeal obstruction.”

A more thorough examination confirmed this tentative diagnosis. Although nothing of the sort had previously been suspected, it was discovered that the little fellow was nearly blind in one eye. Also he was suffering from a poor circulation. On the other hand, despite his mental retardation a careful psychological examination showed that naturally he was bright enough. It seemed evident to Professor Witmer, consequently, that the chief cause for the boy’s mental and moral defects lay in improper upbringing, plus the eye-strain which had undoubtedly made school work difficult for him, and had in addition been a source of neural irritation. In verification of this, after he had been provided with eye-glasses and given a few months of special training in the hospital school connected with the psychological clinic, the supposedly “feebleminded child” not only made rapid headway when placed in a regular school, but also showed a surprising moral improvement.

Even diseases of the teeth may play no small part in the making of the wayward boy. There was brought one day to Professor Witmer’s clinic a youngster who for months had been the despair of his parents. He had got completely beyond the control of both home and school discipline; spent his days idling in the streets; seemed incapable of telling the truth; stole all sorts of small articles belonging to his parents, including his father’s watch, which he sold for five cents; and had even begun to steal from the neighbours, a weakness which soon brought him into the clutches of the law. Placed on probation by the judge of the juvenile court, he had behaved as badly as ever, until, as a last resort, it was decided to see what the psychological clinic could do for him.

Beyond indications of some slight eye-strain nothing specially abnormal was found in his physical condition until his mouth was examined. Then it was seen that a number of his first teeth had not been shed, and that the second teeth were forcing their way out alongside the old ones, causing the gums to be greatly swollen and inflamed. Taken at once to the dental clinic he was examined more carefully by Dean Edward C. Kirk, who, advising gradual removal of the lingering first teeth, suggested the possibility that when the boy was relieved of all dental stress his conduct would show marked improvement. The outcome fully justified this suggestion. Says Doctor Arthur Holmes, who watched the case closely in all its stages (The Psychological Clinic, vol. iv, pp. 19–22):

“In spite of Harry’s rebellion and loudly expressed fear, he was immediately relieved of one outgrown canine tooth. The effect was almost instantaneous. His whole nervous system seemed to express itself in one sigh of relief.... From that time his improvement has been marked and continuous. His teeth were removed gradually as it was found expedient. Closely associated with this dental condition, and possibly aggravated by it, was an eye weakness discovered at the eye clinic. In order to insure proper treatment, Harry was placed in charge of the social worker of the psychological clinic, who saw that the drops were regularly put in his eyes, accompanied him to the eye specialist, and not only secured glasses for him but accomplished the hitherto impossible feat of making him wear them.

“On account of the dental work and the refraction of his eyes, he was not sent back to public school. Through the psychological clinic a private school was found where the boy could receive the intelligent and sympathetic training he needed. His whole demeanour under the private instruction has been that of a normal boy. He has been put upon his honour and trusted in numberless ways, and in every case he has justified the expectations of his teacher. He is now a healthy boy, with a boy’s natural curiosity, with good manners, good temper, with no more than the average nervousness, and with every prospect of taking his proper place in society and developing into an efficient and moral citizen.”