STAMMERING AND GENIUS.

Auckland Star, Volume LXVI, Issue 186, 8 August 1935, Page 6

STAMMERING AND GENIUS.

A correspondent of the "Star," who evidently knew what he was talking about, protested the other day against the formation of a stammerers' club in Auckland, his objection being that sufferers from such a complaint as this would derive small benefit from observing the agonies of fellow sufferers. I am not equipped either to support or to oppose the correspondent's contention, but have long been interested in one aspect of stammering. This aspect, I should say, should particularly appeal to tho victims of the malady. I refer to the frequent occurrence of stammering among men and women of genius. Charles Lamb, for all his sweet expansiveneee on paper, was almost speechlesis in the company of his fellow men, as also was C. L. Dodgson (Lewis Carroll), who, with his pen, could be so persuading. Erasmus Darwin, the father of the evolutionist, and himself a great naturalist, a poet of repute, and an eminent physician, was a hopeless stammerer; so was Kichard Boyle, "the Great Earl of Cork." John Philpot Curran, the defender of Wolfe Tone. John Wilson Croker, founder of "The Quarterly Review," Mrs. Inchbald, Magirin, Joseph Priestley, Kichard Lalor Shell, Henry Sidgwiek, Charles Kingsley and Walter Bagehot. In our own day is the case of Arnold Bennett, who, as his journals reveal. searched until the end of his life for an effectual cure for the malady. Bennett was •by no means a shy or nervous man, but he was always handicapped by his inability to pronounce clearly more than three consecutive words. This subject would surely repay scientific investigation. I have referred to some standard psychological works, but have found no positive support for my tentative theory. It certainly is stated by one authority that stammering may be directly associated with rapid brain growth, and that similar nervous disorders, in the case of genius, proceed from the very mental energy of the individual •concerned. It is noteworthy that many personu of genius have been clumsy and awkward in their personal habits. Macaulay could never shave himself properly; Shelley was always tumbling downstairs; Joseph Priestley could not handle scientific apparatus without breaking it. The inference is that the nervous system of genius is unbalanced — just because it is the nervous system of genius. But that is only begging the question. Perhaps some reader of the "Star" may be able to supply a proper answer. —DONALD COWIE.