HELEN KELLER

BY JOHN HITZ

Centuries ago, records tell us of highly educated persons who were either blind or deaf; but of educated blind deaf-mutes, up to the beginning of the nineteenth century no mention appears, and of those recorded, only one, and that one of the twentieth century, has achieved a collegiate degree, namely, Helen Keller. It remained for her indisputably to prove the fallacy of the traditional pedagogical limitations heretofore supposed to prevail in regard to the educational ability of those bereft of what so far have been considered the most essential organs of perception in attaining academic distinction.

Helen Adams Keller was born June 27, 1880, in Tuscumbia, Alabama. At the time of her birth, and during the first eighteen months of her life, she enjoyed the best of health, including full possession of her senses and infantile faculties. Her paternal ancestry embraced men of prominence in the South, whose lineage was of Swiss origin and noted for scholarly achievements, while maternally her ancestors were directly connected with the distinguished Adams and Everett families of New England whose ancestors in England, the MacAdams, claim to be descendants of the Saxon kings. When eighteen months of age (February, 1882) Helen had an acute attack of gastritis, followed by a malignant fever, which resulted in complete loss of hearing and sight. She disclaims having had any recollection on recovery except "confused memories" of what had preceded this illness; in fact, she insists on having remembered nothing, and having had only "vague impressions of things that transpired, until five years later when she acquired a definite knowledge of words, and her active mind could clearly formulate ideas in the fixed matrix which spoken, written, and printed language provides. Previous to this achievement, during her prolonged period of speechlessness, Helen Keller's mental activity, it

1, At Seven Years. 2, At Thirteen Years. 3, At Twenty-two Years. 4, Miss Keller and Dr Alexander Graham Bell. 5, Miss Sullivan Reading and Spelling at the same time into Miss Keller's hand. 5, In College Vestments.

would seem, sought expression in manifold, and especially in mischievous and combative, ways, such as unruly manifestations against the reprimands of her grandmother. In one well authenticated instance (after having discovered the function of a key) she quietly locked her mother in a pantry, where the latter was compelled to remain for an hour or more. Mrs Keller pounded on the door to no purpose; Helen seated on the floor outside, felt the jar of pounding, and laughed the while with great glee. This performance and its revelation of what seemed a singularly bad spirit convinced the parents that the child must be taught and made to behave, naturally so by some instructor specially qualified to undertake so difficult a task. On the occasion of Helen's father consulting Doctor Chisholm of Baltimore in regard to her case, the latter advised seeing Dr Alexander Graham Bell of Washington, who no doubt would be able to suggest how a suitable instructor might best be obtained. Doctor Bell's advice resulted eventually in securing the services of a graduate of the Perkins Institute for the Blind at South Boston, Miss Anne Mansfield Sullivan, whose eyesight had recently been restored by an operation. After a brief period of special preparation, the following March (1887) she entered upon what promised to be her life work, and developed into one of the most remarkable achievements in the history of pedagogy.

As can well be imagined, the case, owing to the extremely refractory spirit of the child at the time, presented to the teacher almost insurmountable obstacles, for little Helen resorted to the same tactics with Miss Sullivan that she had applied in her intercourse with her parents. But her teacher proved equal to the task. Inflexible determination, at times even physical force, yet always tempered with maternal affection and unwearying patience, coupled with an unshakable faith in the eventual success of her well-nigh inspired efforts, ultimately triumphed. After a voluntary isolation of herself and pupil in a cottage apart from the parental residence, devoted to "seven weeks of the hardest work she had ever done," this pedagogical Columbus was finally rewarded with the discovery of the realm within whose bounds lay untold happiness for her pupil and inexpressible satisfaction for herself. How this was brought about in part is told in Helen's own words, when, five years later, at

the age of thirteen, she tells in a brief autobiography of her being taught the manual or finger alphabet.

"I had not the least idea that my finger-play was the magical key which was to unlock my mind's prison door, and open wide the windows of my soul. I had learned eighteen or twenty words before that thought flashed into my mind as the sun breaks upon the sleeping world, and in that moment of illumination the secret of language was revealed to me, and I caught a glimpse of the beautiful country I was about to explore.

"Teacher had been trying all the morning to make me understand that the mug and the milk in the mug had different names; but I was very dull, and kept spelling milk' for mug, and mug' for milk, until teacher must have lost all hope of making me see my mistake. At last she got up, gave me the mug, and led me out of the door to the pump close by. Some one was pumping water, and as the cool fresh stream burst forth, teacher made me put my mug under the spout, and spelled w-a-t-e-r, water. That word startled my soul, and it awoke, full of the spirit of the morning, full of joyous, exultant song. Until that day my mind had been like a darkened chamber, waiting for words to enter and light the lamp, which is thought.

"I learned a great many words that day. I do not remember what they all were; but I do know that' mother,' ' father,' and' teacher' were among them. It would have been difficult to find a happier little child than I was that night as I lay in my crib and thought over the joy the day had brought me, and for the first time I longed for a new day to come. The next morning I awoke with joy in my heart. Everything I touched seemed to quiver with life. It was because I saw everything with the new, strange, beautiful sight which had come to me. I was never angry after that, because I understood what my friends said to me, and I was very busy learning many wonderful things. I was never still during the first glad days of my freedom. I was constantly spelling and acting out the words as I spelled them. I would run, jump, skip, and swing, no matter where I happened to be. Everything was budding and blossoming. The honeysuckle hung in long garlands deliciously fragrant, and the roses had never been so beautiful before. Teacher and I lived out of doors from morning until night, and I rejoiced greatly in the forgotten light and sunshine found again.”

Within three months Helen had learned to use the stylus employed by the blind in writing, and had written her first letter (June, 1887). Acquisition of the power of reading readily the