Part 13

A stutterer, whose tongue is running away with him, owing to an insufficiency of ballast, must take in enough (inspire sufficiently) to bring him back to his point of gravitation. His tongue is in a loose state of elevation, in which position the air is constantly streaming out (expiring) from beneath the same. He must lower it to have his balance restored, as in so doing the air will stream in over and above the tongue until the equilibrium has been restored. In other words, the person who is thus agitated must calm himself, he must relax from an overstrain in either one direction or the other. The diaphragm, holding the balance of power, will be found to be in as uncontrollable a condition as the tongue, with which it always acts in unison. In restoring the tongue to a normal condition we restore the diaphragm to a normal condition.

The institutions for the cure of stuttering, stammering, and intermediate stages of the same trouble, attempt to bring about a state of restoration of the disturbed balance by means arrived at through experience. The real cause being unknown, the remedies must necessarily be restricted. If persons thus afflicted will take their own cases in hand and treat them in conformity with the precepts here laid down, the chances are in favor of their being cured where no other remedy had been of any avail.

As the preceding remarks have been made from the point of view of an English-speaking person, the standpoint of a German being diametrically opposite, the same must all be reversed to fit the case of a German, in so far as locality is concerned. For stammering, the tongue of a German is closely wedged in, in the direction of the roof of the mouth; for stuttering, it is loosely pointing downward. This is owing to the fact that a German inspires from under and beneath, and expires from over and above, his tongue; just the reverse of the manner in which this is done by an English-speaking person.

In order to efficiently cure the trouble of stuttering, it is necessary that the act of breathing and sound-production should be closely studied with every separate nationality, as these processes differ with all nationalities; this difference being very pronounced as between Germans and Anglo-Saxons. For an American to go to Germany, therefore, to be cured of this trouble, is as false a step as for a German to go to the United States or England for this purpose.

While I have in the preceding endeavored to give an account of the general causes which result in stuttering, I have not touched upon such special causes as are directly connected with the character and origin of vocal sounds; the explanation of which must be postponed to a future period.

THE CATHODE OF A VOCAL SOUND

By an accident, in some respects not unlike the one which drew Roentgen's attention to the light by whose aid we have learned to look into and through opaque bodies, I (myself an accident, an appearance on and soon to be a disappearance from the illuminated surface of the earth) have discovered eternal laws, by whose aid we shall be able to comprehend much of what has heretofore been as a closed book to us, regarding our physical and psychical nature and the exercise of our faculties and functions.

During my endeavors to overcome the difficulties which my German tongue offered to the perfect pronunciation of the English "r" sound, and during an almost frantic effort on one occasion at so doing, I was amazed by the fact that while one "r" came to the surface from over and above the tongue, another made its appearance from under and beneath the same. The latter was the "r" of the voice of the œsophagus. Of all this, however, I have spoken at length in my previous publication.

Though it occurred to me at once like a flash that this was a revelation of the greatest importance, its real significance was only made clear to me in the course of time. No matter how I view it, as time progresses it assumes greater and greater proportions. There is no event in the history of man which appears to me to be of greater significance. Through this "accident" I was induced to look closer and closer into my inner nature, where, to my amazement, I found that a world, apparently silent and mysterious, and supposed to be unapproachable, was the abode of numberless physical and psychical phenomena, clearly defined and definable.

The "r" which came to the surface from beneath my tongue by way of the œsophagus was the cathode, the negative end of this sound. The product of its combination with the simple "r" (which came to the surface from over and above the tongue by way of the trachea) I had hitherto produced when attempting to speak English, was the vocal "r" sound of the English language; the "r" I had hitherto produced having been the anode--the positive and first part of this sound only. As Roentgen's cathodic light has illuminated the physical body, so have cathodic sounds illumined for me the spiritual body of my mundane existence. I am endeavoring to show my fellowmen this "new light," whose lustre, also invisible on ordinary occasions, when once seen is so great that it will never again fade from the memory of the beholder. As time progresses, it will continue to penetrate ever more deeply into regions hitherto considered to be impervious to any kind of light; regions whose phenomena have been called supernatural, or, at least, beyond the sphere of the knowledge of man. All other anodes or cathodes of which we have obtained any knowledge belong to physical phenomena only. The cathode I have discovered belongs to our spiritual life, being a part of a living vocal sound.

Think of it! To be able to divide the essence of life and to obtain two living parts, each endowed with a life of its own! This is a nearer approach to the knowledge of life than any ever attained before. A vocal sound is an entity. From entities we cannot learn anything. They are phenomena complete in themselves. Regarding their innermost nature, they have always been to us as a closed book. They offer us no vantage-ground; no opening, no breach, through which we can enter into the mysterious process of their existence. No matter whether such life or existence be that of the minutest parasite of a minute vegetable growth, that growth itself, or the giant of the forest; whether it be that of a microbe or the microbe of a microbe; whether it be the essence of a thought, a sigh, a tear, a look, a vocal sound, or of a human being--their innermost natures are all alike mysterious to us. I have succeeded in analyzing a vocal sound, and this apparently simple proceeding has opened up to me endless vistas in endless directions. I have reduced this entity into its natural elements, and have again put these together. After resolving it into two lives I have again formed it into one. I can bring about this analysis as well as this synthesis at will at any time.

All know what is meant by vocal sounds, yet few, I repeat, know what are simple sounds, though constantly used by everybody while whispering or uttering exclamations, while surprised, alarmed, frightened, etc. My accomplishment, therefore, is but the recognition of the nature of a thing constantly before us and brought to our consciousness through our ear.

Simple sounds are the anodes, the beginnings of sounds. There is no life in them, no rhythm, no melody, no light, no grace, no beauty. These are imparted to them by the fusion of the cathode element of vocal sounds with this, the anode; the spiritual with the material. The anode is formed first. It is the passive element, the female, the patient, the waiting, which must have been before the male, the impatient, the aggressive. The thing to be fructified must have been before that which fructifies.

The anode is quiescent until the cathode comes along, joins it, and infuses life into it. The creation of a vocal sound is an act of generation. The cathode, after overwhelming the anode, penetrates it and diffuses itself throughout it, and thus forms a union whose result is the production of a vocal sound. Similar unions between anodes and cathodes are formed a myriad-fold every moment during time's progress, and result in the creation of an electric spark, or a succession of sparks, called an electric light, or any other light or fire, or of a thought, or of the embryo to a new life of any and every description, etc.; while a discord, a stutter, a smouldering fire, the sight of a thing too dimly seen to be recognized, a cut or broken limb, a suspense, a disappointment, a suppressed action or passion, etc., are anodes not joined by their cathodes. By the juncture of a cathode with an anode we exercise our faculties, we become conscious of a sight, a sound, an odor, a taste, etc.; the anode being vested in the thing to be seen, heard, smelled, or tasted,--the cathode in ourselves.

While the anode of a vocal sound may be uttered audibly, the cathode, by itself, cannot be uttered--the spiritual cannot be materialized except in conjunction with the material. The anode, the physical, is inert until the cathode, the spiritual, has formed a juncture with it, has been alloyed with it. Every phenomenon of which we become conscious is the result of a process of this nature. The more perfect the union, the more perfect the outcome or result, the phenomenon.

In our ordinary speech this alloy, this union, is of a mutable and evanescent, in oratory and song it is of a more continuous and lasting, nature. With persons speaking a foreign tongue, and with the deaf, it is superficial, imperfect; in many cases, in fact, we hear only anodes, no union having been effected. The amalgamation, the alloy of the finer with the coarser, the higher with the lower, the spiritual with the material, is not at all or but imperfectly performed; the coarser element prevails and makes its presence felt in every utterance. The more perfect the union between anodes and cathodes in vocal utterance, the higher will be the performance, the more perfect the speech, the more beautiful the song, the more stirring, the more soulful; the nearer they come to our hearts.

How do I know all this? I will tell you: By watching the beginning of a vocal sound; the performance actually going on within us, while such sound is first being created. This performance is of an inverse order as between German and English, in so far as the anode for German vocal sounds is located to the right, the cathode to the left. The cathode approaches the anode from left to right; while in the creation of an English vocal sound the anode is to the left, the cathode to the right, and the latter approaches the former from right to left. The location where the union appears to take place is in the chest, near the heart; for German sounds, to the right thereof, for English to the left. As a matter of fact, however, it is in the heart itself.

What does the motion in which anode and cathode approach each other--which is not direct as it at first appears to the observer, but vastly circuitous--signify?

The circulation through the vascular system of the elements (of the æther) creating vocal sounds, or the circulation of vocal sounds. The proofs that this important fact actually obtains will be furnished very positively and very circumstantially at a later date in connection with that part of these expositions which treats on vocal sounds.

OUR MOTHER TONGUE

Nature will have its right always. What is this right in regard to vocal utterance? It is the manner in which we breathe. When we violate nature's right in our mode of breathing for vocal expression, our penalty is that such expression will not be what it is intended to be, what it should be; the idiomatic expression of every language being the outcome of a special mode of breathing for the same.

All my observations in the first instance owe their origin to the fact that I was breathing in a manner directly opposite to the one in which it was necessary for me to breathe to correctly produce the idiomatic expression of the English language. It was not until after this fact had become clear to my mind that I began to extract from my organs of speech those sounds which appear so abnormally different and "strange" to the ear of the bewildered foreigner, who finds himself completely at a loss how to produce them. The better he becomes acquainted with the language, the more thoroughly he becomes convinced of the fact that his mode of speaking English is different from that of the native-born. Nor will a German ever succeed in speaking English as it should be spoken until he succeeds in reversing his mode of breathing. He must go straight to the antipodes in sound production; he must stand on his head, so to say, instead of on his feet. I shall fully explain what this means later on.

I venture to make the assertion that no other person besides myself has ever learned to pronounce a foreign language idiomatically correct, as I have, by means of applying to his mode of speaking rules based on actual knowledge or scientific principles. In this manner I have succeeded in learning to speak English with less of the tinge of a foreign accent adhering to my speech than usually is the case with foreigners who have commenced to speak it as late in life as I did. I do not say this vauntingly, for I do not consider this accomplishment in itself as of a very high order; but I say it to vindicate my claim that I have discovered the principles on which the production of language is based, and offer my personal pronunciation of the English language to which these principles have been applied as a proof that I have done so. I am still learning, however, for it takes time and practice and a great deal of patience to dislodge the old habit from its wonted haunts and to assign its quarters to a foreign guest. My old familiar dwelling has thus become a lodging for the English language, though I can return to it at will with my old and dearly beloved mother tongue and be comfortable therein.

The foreign guest, however, who came to dwell therein, does not use my native home, in his mode of entering it or going forth from it, in the old familiar way, nor does he use the same apartments for the same purposes. He enters at the back gate while I used to enter at the front; he leaves it at the front gate while I left at the back. He opens his shutters to the east, while I used to look out from the west, etc. Such differences as these in our mode of breathing exist throughout the entire length and breadth of both languages. The sounds we have imbibed in our early youth, however, will always be more familiar and nearer to us and dearer than those of any other language, no matter how closely the latter may enter into our lives and our being at a later period.

NATIONAL TRAITS OF CHARACTER

What constitutes a given number of people a nation, besides their history, their political organization, and the geographical position of their territory? What makes every member belonging to a nation, whether he lives within its territory or has emigrated therefrom, a different being from every member of any other nation? What makes each member of a nation resemble every other member thereof, not only in regard to vocal expression but also in regard to general cast of features, build of body, movements, gesticulations, etc., and in what may be summed up as national traits of character?

No one will deny the fact that such differences exist, as between Germans, Frenchmen, and Englishmen, for instance. This difference is not racial, as they all belong to the Caucasian race. It can scarcely be climatic with nations whose territory is adjacent to each other; nor is it likely to be religious, historical, or political. There is nothing very decidedly different in the situation and composition of these various nations and the individuals of which they are composed, except their language.

I maintain that language is not only the main point of difference, but that it is the cause and origin of all other main points of difference. As language is the main gift which distinguishes men from animals, so it is also the principal distinguishing mark as between one nation and another. I maintain, and expect to prove, that the language--that is, any specific language--acquired in childhood becomes an integral part of a person's organization, as positively so as any of his other natural faculties; and that he cannot change it, that is, in an idiomatically correct manner, without changing, to some extent, the drift of his entire organism. As soon as I began to succeed in speaking the English language as it is spoken in this country, idiomatically correct, I changed my nature, to some extent, from that of a German to that of an American; nor is it possible to learn to speak any language idiomatically correct without undergoing a similar change. Not alone my mode of vocal expression, but my motions, my habits, nay, my very features, yes, even my way of thinking, in some respects, have been subjected to such a change; modified, of course, by heredity, previous habits, and the constant reversion of all this by the frequent recurrence to my native tongue. In using the term "idiomatically correct" I mean of course that mode of expression which is peculiar to a language, its general cast, and which is representative of its genius and spirit.