The Story of My Life
is in a state of feverish unrest while conscious that there is something
that she does not comprehend. I have never known her to be willing to
leave a lesson when she felt that there was anything in it which she did
not understand. If I suggest her leaving a problem in arithmetic until
the next day, she answers, "I think it will make my mind stronger to do
it now."
A few evenings ago we were discussing the tariff. Helen wanted me to
tell her about it. I said: "No. You cannot understand it yet." She was
quiet for a moment, and then asked, with spirit: "How do you know that I
cannot understand? I have a good mind! You must remember, dear teacher,
that Greek parents were very particular with their children, and they
used to let them listen to wise words, and I think they understood
some of them." I have found it best not to tell her that she cannot
understand, because she is almost certain to become excited.
Not long ago I tried to show her how to build a tower with her blocks.
As the design was somewhat complicated, the slightest jar made the
structure fall. After a time I became discouraged, and told her I was
afraid she could not make it stand, but that I would build it for her;
but she did not approve of this plan. She was determined to build the
tower herself; and for nearly three hours she worked away, patiently
gathering up the blocks whenever they fell, and beginning over again,
until at last her perseverance was crowned with success. The tower stood
complete in every part.
Until October, 1889, I had not deemed it best to confine Helen to any
regular and systematic course of study. For the first two years of
her intellectual life she was like a child in a strange country, where
everything was new and perplexing; and, until she gained a knowledge
of language, it was not possible to give her a definite course of
instruction.
Moreover, Helen's inquisitiveness was so great during these years
that it would have interfered with her progress in the acquisition of
language, if a consideration of the questions which were constantly
occurring to her had been deferred until the completion of a lesson.
In all probability she would have forgotten the question, and a good
opportunity to explain something of real interest to her would have
been lost. Therefore it has always seemed best to me to teach anything
whenever my pupil needed to know it, whether it had any bearing on the
projected lesson or not, her inquiries have often led us far away from
the subject under immediate consideration.
Since October, 1889, her work has been more regular and has included
arithmetic, geography, zoology, botany and reading.
She has made considerable progress in the study of arithmetic. She
readily explains the processes of multiplication, addition, subtraction,
and division, and seems to understand the operations. She has nearly
finished Colburn's mental arithmetic, her last work being in improper
fractions. She has also done some good work in written arithmetic. Her
mind works so rapidly, that it often happens, that when I give her an
example she will give me the correct answer before I have time to write
out the question. She pays little attention to the language used in
stating a problem, and seldom stops to ask the meaning of unknown words
or phrases until she is ready to explain her work. Once, when a question
puzzled her very much, I suggested that we take a walk and then perhaps
she would understand it. She shook her head decidedly, and said: "My
enemies would think I was running away. I must stay and conquer them
now," and she did.
The intellectual improvement which Helen has made in the past two years
is shown more clearly in her greater command of language and in her
ability to recognize nicer shades of meaning in the use of words, than
in any other branch of her education.
Not a day passes that she does not learn many new words, nor are these
merely the names of tangible and sensible objects. For instance, she
one day wished to know the meaning of the following words: PHENOMENON,
COMPRISE, ENERGY, REPRODUCTION, EXTRAORDINARY, PERPETUAL and MYSTERY.
Some of these words have successive steps of meaning, beginning with
what is simple and leading on to what is abstract. It would have been a
hopeless task to make Helen comprehend the more abstruse meanings of
the word MYSTERY, but she understood readily that it signified something
hidden or concealed, and when she makes greater progress she will
grasp its more abstruse meaning as easily as she now does the simpler
signification. In investigating any subject there must occur at the
beginning words and phrases which cannot be adequately understood until
the pupil has made considerable advancement; yet I have thought it best
to go on giving my pupil simple definitions, thinking that, although
these may be somewhat vague and provisional, they will come to one
another's assistance, and that what is obscure to-day will be plain
to-morrow.
I regard my pupil as a free and active being, whose own spontaneous
impulses must be my surest guide. I have always talked to Helen exactly
as I would talk to a seeing and hearing child, and I have insisted that
other people should do the same. Whenever any one asks me if she will
understand this or that word I always reply: "Never mind whether she
understands each separate word of a sentence or not. She will guess the
meanings of the new words from their connection with others which are
already intelligible to her."
In selecting books for Helen to read, I have never chosen them with
reference to her deafness and blindness. She always reads such books as
seeing and hearing children of her age read and enjoy. Of course, in the
beginning it was necessary that the things described should be familiar
and interesting, and the English pure and simple. I remember distinctly
when she first attempted to read a little story. She had learned the
printed letters, and for some time had amused herself by making simple
sentences, using slips on which the words were printed in raised
letters; but these sentences had no special relation to one another. One
morning we caught a mouse, and it occurred to me, with a live mouse
and a live cat to stimulate her interest, that I might arrange some
sentences in such a way as to form a little story, and thus give her a
new conception of the use of language. So I put the following sentences
in the frame, and gave it to Helen: "The cat is on the box. A mouse is
in the box. The cat can see the mouse. The cat would like to eat the
mouse. Do not let the cat get the mouse. The cat can have some milk,
and the mouse can have some cake." The word THE she did not know, and
of course she wished it explained. At that stage of her advancement it
would have been impossible to explain its use, and so I did not try, but
moved her finger on to the next word, which she recognized with a bright
smile. Then, as I put her hand upon puss sitting on the box, she made
a little exclamation of surprise, and the rest of the sentence became
perfectly clear to her. When she had read the words of the second
sentence, I showed her that there really was a mouse in the box. She
then moved her finger to the next line with an expression of eager
interest. "The cat can see the mouse." Here I made the cat look at the
mouse, and let Helen feel the cat. The expression of the little girl's
countenance showed that she was perplexed. I called her attention to the
following line, and, although she knew only the three words, CAT, EAT
and MOUSE, she caught the idea. She pulled the cat away and put her on
the floor, at the same time covering the box with the frame. When she
read, "Do not let the cat get the mouse!" she recognized the negation
in the sentence, and seemed to know that the cat must not get the mouse.
GET and LET were new words. She was familiar with the words of the last
sentence, and was delighted when allowed to act them out. By signs she
made me understand that she wished another story, and I gave her a book
containing very short stories, written in the most elementary style. She
ran her fingers along the lines, finding the words she knew and
guessing at the meaning of others, in a way that would convince the
most conservative of educators that a little deaf child, if given the
opportunity, will learn to read as easily and naturally as ordinary
children.
I am convinced that Helen's use of English is due largely to her
familiarity with books. She often reads for two or three hours in
succession, and then lays aside her book reluctantly. One day as we left
the library I noticed that she appeared more serious than usual, and
I asked the cause. "I am thinking how much wiser we always are when we
leave here than we are when we come," was her reply.
When asked why she loved books so much, she once replied: "Because they
tell me so much that is interesting about things I cannot see, and they
are never tired or troubled like people. They tell me over and over what
I want to know."
While reading from Dickens's "Child's History of England," we came to
the sentence, "Still the spirit of the Britons was not broken." I asked
what she thought that meant. She replied, "I think it means that the
brave Britons were not discouraged because the Romans had won so many
battles, and they wished all the more to drive them away." It would not
have been possible for her to define the words in this sentence; and yet
she had caught the author's meaning, and was able to give it in her own
words. The next lines are still more idiomatic, "When Suetonius left the
country, they fell upon his troops and retook the island of Anglesea."
Here is her interpretation of the sentence: "It means that when the
Roman general had gone away, the Britons began to fight again; and
because the Roman soldiers had no general to tell them what to do, they
were overcome by the Britons and lost the island they had captured."
She prefers intellectual to manual occupations, and is not so fond of
fancy work as many of the blind children are; yet she is eager to join
them in whatever they are doing. She has learned to use the Caligraph
typewriter, and writes very correctly, but not rapidly as yet, having
had less than a month's practice.
More than two years ago a cousin taught her the telegraph alphabet by
making the dots and dashes on the back of her hand with his finger.
Whenever she meets any one who is familiar with this system, she is
delighted to use it in conversation. I have found it a convenient medium
of communicating with Helen when she is at some distance from me, for it
enables me to talk with her by tapping upon the floor with my foot. She
feels the vibrations and understands what is said to her.
It was hoped that one so peculiarly endowed by nature as Helen, would,
if left entirely to her own resources, throw some light upon such
psychological questions as were not exhaustively investigated by Dr.
Howe; but their hopes were not to be realized. In the case of Helen,
as in that of Laura Bridgman, disappointment was inevitable. It is
impossible to isolate a child in the midst of society, so that he shall
not be influenced by the beliefs of those with whom he associates. In
Helen's case such an end could not have been attained without depriving
her of that intercourse with others, which is essential to her nature.
It must have been evident to those who watched the rapid unfolding of
Helen's faculties that it would not be possible to keep her inquisitive
spirit for any length of time from reaching out toward the unfathomable
mysteries of life. But great care has been taken not to lead her
thoughts prematurely to the consideration of subjects which perplex
and confuse all minds. Children ask profound questions, but they often