BLIND, An epithet applied to a person deprived of the use of sight; or to one from whom light, colours, and all the variety of the visible creation, are intercepted by some natural deprivation or accidental disease.

There is no external sense or faculty which affords such an endless variety of perceptions as that of vision; nor is there any loss that can be sustained productive of so many disadvantages and evils as the want of that faculty. By no avenue of perception is knowledge so accessible, by none, in fact, does it flow so abundantly, as through the channel of this sense, which not only reveals external things in all their beauty, in all their changes, and in all their varieties[7:4:694], but supplies those materials out of which the imagination creates new forms still more glorious; whilst the understanding traces the varied relations existing among the ideas thus received, and gives birth to a secondary and reflex class still more subtile and refined. To the blind man, however, the visible universe is totally annihilated; he is perfectly conscious of no space excepting that in which he stands, or to which his extremities can reach. Sound, indeed, gives him some ideas of distant objects; but these ideas are often obscure and indistinct; and although by them the notion of distance in general, or even of some particular distances, may be obtained, yet they never fill the mind with those vast and exalting conceptions of extension which are inspired by ocular perception. For although a clap of thunder or an explosion of ordnance may be distinctly heard after they have traversed an immense region of space, yet when the distance is uncommonly great it ceases to be indicated by sound; and hence the ideas of extension acquired by hearing are extremely confused and inadequate. But the living and comprehensive eye darts its instantaneous glance over expanded valleys, lofty mountains, sweeping rivers, and vast tracts of land or of ocean. It measures in an instant of time the mighty space from earth to heaven, or from one star to another. By the assistance of telescopes its horizon is almost indefinitely extended, its objects are greatly multiplied, and the sphere of its observation is prodigiously enlarged. By these means the imagination, habituated to vast impressions of distance, can not only recall them in their utmost extent with as much rapidity as they were at first imbibed, but can multiply them, and add one to another, till all boundaries, distances, and measures, are swallowed up in immensity. By profusely irradiating the face of things, and clothing objects in a robe of diversified splendour, nature at once invites the understanding to expatiate on that extensive and gorgeous theatre which she thus opens up, and gratifies the imagination with every possible exhibition of the sublime and the beautiful. The man of sight enjoys these unspeakable advantages, and beholds from afar the objects of his attention and curiosity. Taught by experience, he measures their relative distances; distinguishes their qualities; determines their situations, positions, and attitudes; traverses in security the space which divides them from him; stops at the point where they are placed; and either obtains them with ease, or immediately perceives the means by which the obstacles that intercept his passage to them may be surmounted. The blind, on the contrary, not only may be, but in reality are, during a considerable period, apprehensive of danger from every motion they make towards any object or place, because their contracted power of perception can give them no certain intelligence of the obstacles or hazards which may intervene.

Nor is this the worst of their case. All the various modes of delicate proportion, all the beautiful varieties of light and colours, whether exhibited in the works of nature or of art, are to them irretrievably lost. Dependent for every thing on the good offices of others, and from every object obnoxious to injury, which they are neither capacitated to perceive nor qualified to resist, they are, during the present state of being, rather to be considered as prisoners at large than citizens of nature. The sedentary life to which they are doomed relaxes the frame, and subjects them to all the disagreeable sensations which arise from dejection of spirits. Hence the most feeble exertions create lassitude and uneasiness, and the natural tone of the nervous system, destroyed by inactivity exasperates and embitters every disagreeable impression. But even from their loss, however oppressive and irretrievable, they derive some advantages; not indeed adequate to recompense, but sufficient to alleviate, their misery. The attention of the mind, confined to those avenues of perception which it can command, is neither dissipated nor confounded by the multiplicity or rapid succession of surrounding objects. Its contemplations are more uniformly fixed upon itself and its own operations ∙ and hence its perceptions of such external things as are contiguous and obvious to observation become more lively and exquisite, whilst even the instruments of corporeal sensation are more assiduously cultivated and improved; so that from them are derived notices and presages of approaching pleasure or impending danger, which entirely escape the attention of those who depend for security on the information of sight. A blind man, when walking swiftly, or running, is kindly and effectually checked by nature from rudely encountering such hard and extended objects as might hurt or bruise him. When he approaches bodies of this kind, he feels the atmosphere more sensibly resist his progress; and in proportion as his motion is accelerated, or his distance from the object diminished, the resistance is increased. He distinguishes the approach of his friend from afar by the sound of his steps, by his manner of breathing, and almost by every audible token which he can exhibit. Prepared for the dangers which he may encounter from the surface of the ground upon which he walks, his step is habitually firm and cautious. Hence he not only avoids those falls which might be occasioned by its less formidable inequalities, but from its general bias he collects some ideas how far his safety is immediately concerned; and although these conjectures may sometimes prove fallacious, yet they are generally so true as to preserve him from accidents not incurred by his own temerity. The rapid torrent and the deep cascade not only warn him to keep a proper distance, but inform him of the direction in which he is moving, and form a kind of audible beacons to regulate his course. In places to which he has been accustomed, he as it were recognises his latitude and longitude from every breath of varied fragrance wafted by the breeze, from every ascent or declivity in the road, from every natural or artificial sound that strikes his ear. Regulated by these and other analogous signs, the blind have not only been known to perform long and difficult journeys themselves, but even to conduct others through dark, tortuous, and dangerous paths, with the utmost security and exactness.

It were endless to recapitulate the various mechanical operations of which they are capable, from the nicety and accuracy of their touch. In some the tactile powers are said to have been so highly improved, as to perceive that texture and disposition of coloured surfaces by which some rays of light are reflected and others absorbed, and in this manner to distinguish colours.^[1. De comite Mansfeldicocoeco refert Keckermanus, solo tactu album a nigro discernere; de equo fusco vel albo, item de columba nigra vel caerulea, judicium ferre potuisse. ( Syst. Physic, lib. iii. c. 16.) ] But the testimonies to this fact still appear too vague and general to deserve implicit credit. We have known a person who had lost the use of his sight at an early period of infancy, and in the vivacity and delicacy of his sensations was not perhaps inferior to any one: this individual having often heard that others in his situation were capable of distinguishing colours by touch with the utmost exactness and promptitude; and being stimulated partly by curiosity to acquire a new train of ideas, if that acquisition were possible, but still more by incredulity respecting the fact alleged; tried [7:4:695] repeated experiments, by touching the surfaces of different bodies, and examining whether any such diversities could be detected in them as might enable him to distinguish co- ∣ ours; —but nothing of the kind was he ever able to ascertain. Sometimes, indeed, he imagined that objects which had no colour, or, in other words, were black, had something different and peculiar in their surfaces; but this experiment did not universally hold; and his scepticism therefore still continued to prevail. That the acoustic perceptions of the blind are distinct and accurate, we may fairly conclude from the rapidity with which they ascertain the acuteness or gravity of different tones, as relative one to another, and from their exact discernment of the various kinds and modifications of sound and of sonorous objects, if the sounds themselves be in any degree significant of their causes.

It is owing to this vivacity and accuracy of the other senses, and the assiduous application of a comprehensive and attentive mind, that we are enabled to account for the rapid and astonishing progress which some of them have made, not only in those departments of literature which were most accessible to their understandings, but even in the most abstract, and, if we may be allowed the expression, occult sciences. What, for instance, can apparently be more remote from the conceptions of a blind man than the abstract relations and properties of space and quantity? Yet the attainments of Dr Saunderson in all the branches of mathematics are well known to the literary world since the publication of his works; and we have the testimony of Dr Guillié to the fact that the blind in general have a remarkable aptitude for the study of the exact sciences.^[2. >Si la privation de la vue peut, dans quelques circonstances, devenir un avantage, c’est dans l’étude des mathématiques. Les aveugles ont des dispositions naturelles pour cette science, à laquelle ils se livrent avec un goût décidé. Très-jeunes, ils apprennent facilement les opérations les plus compliquées de l’arithmétique, et, sans employer aucun des moyens dont les clair-voyans font usage pour h géométrie, ils ont une idée exacte et précise des figures; ce qui est prouvé par leur succès dans l’algèbre, la trigonométrie, et les autres branches subséquentes des mathématiques. Leur intelligence pour cette étude est tellement développée, que non sculement ils sont en état de suivre parfaitement les démonstrations faites sur le tableau, et de profiter des leçons publiques données par les maitres les plus distingués (Μ. Biot, Μ. Francoeur), mais même remporter, dans les Lycées, les premiers prix sur les clair-voyans. ( Essai sur l’Instruct. des Aveugles, p. 159, 160.) ]

When we reflect on the numberless advantages derived from the use of sight, and the immense importance of the information it conveys, both for the well-being of the body and the improvement of the mind, we are almost tempted to doubt the fidelity of the reports which have been published concerning such persons as, without the assistance of sight, have arrived at high degrees of eminence even in those sciences which would appear absolutely unattainable without the aid of this sense. It has, however, been demonstrated by Dr Reid, that blind men, by proper instruction, are capable of forming almost every idea, and attaining almost every truth, which can be impressed on the mind through the medium of light and colour, except the sensations of light and colour themselves. (Inquiry into the Human Mind, chap. vi. § 1, 2.) Yet there is one phenomenon of this kind which seems to have escaped the attention of that great' philosopher, and of which no author either of this or any former period has been able to offer any satisfactory explanation, although it seems to merit the attention of philosophers. For, admitting that the blind can understand all the phenomena of light and colours, and that on these subjects they may extend their speculations even beyond the sphere of their instructions, and by the mere force of genius and application investigate the mechanical principles of optics from the data which they had previously obtained; yet it will be difficult to assign any reason why these objects should prove more interesting to a blind man than any other abstract truths whatsoever. By means of a retentive memory, it is possible for a blind man to tell that the sky is azure, that the sun, moon, and stars are bright, that the rose is red, the lily white or yellow, and the tulip variegated; by continually hearing these substantives and adjectives joined, he may be mechanically taught to join them in the same manner; but as he never had any sensation of colour, however accurately he may speak of coloured objects, his language must be like that of a parrot, without meaning and without ideas. Homer and Milton had been long acquainted with the visible world before they were afflicted with the calamity of blindness. They might, therefore, still retain the warm and pleasing impressions of what they had seen; their descriptions might be animated with all the enthusiasm which had originally fired their bosoms when the grand or delightful objects which they delineated were immediately beheld; and that enthusiasm might even be heightened by a bitter sense of their loss, and by the regret which a situation so dismal naturally inspired. But how shall we account for the same energy, the same transport of description, exhibited by those on whose minds visible objects were either never impressed, or must have been entirely obliterated?

Yet certain it is, however extraordinary the fact may appear, that the latter class of the blind experience such emotions, and depict them with astonishing accuracy and truth; that they seem to have a kind of imaginative feeling of external beauty, and to enter into accounts of natural scenery with a keener relish than those who enjoy the blessing of sight. To them light, and shadow, and colour in all its variegated modifications, are merely voces et praeterea nihil; yet by the force of imagination, aided by the information supplied by the other senses, and by certain suggestions and relations of language, they are enabled, as it were,· to approximate to ideas which it is impossible they should ever fully attain, and to form for themselves a set of notions adjusted in such a wonderful manner as to serve as links in the chain of association, and to guide them to the use of accurate expressions, in speaking or writing of things which to them are as if they were not. But the speculations into which these considerations would lead us are of too refined and subtile a nature to be prosecuted further in such an article as the present. Whoever thinks the subject of sufficient consequence to merit a nicer scrutiny, may consult the preface to Blackloch’s Poems printed at Edinburgh 1754; or the account of his life and writings by the Rev. Mr Spence, prefixed to a quarto edition of his poems published at London in the year 1756; or the Essai sur l’Instruction des Aveugles, by Dr Guillié, a work which, from the opportunities of observation enjoyed by the author, is naturally of high authority on the subject of which it treats.

It has already been hinted that the blind are objects of compassion, because their sphere of action and observation is abridged; and this is certainly true. For what is human existence in its present state, when deprived of action, and to a certain extent of contemplation? Thus limited, all that remains is the information derived from form, or from sensitive and locomotive powers. But for these, unless directed to happier ends by superior faculties, few rational beings would, in our opinion, be grateful. The most important view, therefore, which can be entertained in the [7:4:696] education of a person deprived of sight, is to redress as effectually as possible the natural disadvantages under which he lies; or, in other words, to enlarge as far as may be the sphere of his knowledge and activity. But this can only be done by the improvement of his intellectual, imaginative, or mechanical powers; and which of these ought to be most assiduously trained and cultivated, the genius of every individual can alone determine. Were men to judge of things by their intrinsic nature, less would be expected from the blind than from others. But, by some pernicious and unaccountable prejudice, people generally hope to find them either possessed of preternatural talents, or more attentive than others to those which they actually do possess: for it was not Rochester’s opinion alone,
That if one sense should be suppress’d,
It but retires into the rest.

Hence it unluckily happens that blind men, when they do not gratify the extravagant expectations of the spectators, too frequently sink in the general estimation, and appear to be much less considerable and meritorious than they really are. This general diffidence of their powers at once deprives them both of the opportunity and the spirit to exert themselves; and they descend at last to that degree of insignificance in which the public estimate has fixed them. From the original dawning of reason and spirit, therefore, the parents and tutors of the blind ought to inculcate this maxim,—that it is their indispensable duty to excel, and that it is absolutely in their power to attain a high degree of eminence. To impress this notion on their minds, the first objects presented to their observation, and the first methods of improvement applied to their understanding, ought to be capable of being comprehended without difficulty by those internal powers and external senses which they possess. Not that improvement should be rendered quite easy to them, if such a plan were possible; for all difficulties which are not really or apparently insuperable heighten the charms and enhance the value of those acquisitions which they seem to retard. But care should be taken that these difficulties be not magnified or exaggerated by imagination; since the blind have naturally a painful sense of their own incapacity, and consequently a strong propensity to despondency continually working in their minds.

For this reason, parents and relations ought never to be too ready in offering their assistance to the blind in any office which they can perform, or in any acquisition which they can make for themselves, whether they are prompted by amusement or necessity. Let a blind boy be permitted to walk through the neighbourhood without a guide, not only though he should run some hazard, but even though he should suffer some pain. If he have a mechanical turn, let him not be denied the use of edge tools; for it is better that he should lose a little blood, or even break a bone, than be perpetually confined to the same place, and thus debilitated in his frame, and depressed in his mind. Such a being can have no employment but that of feeling his own weakness, and becoming his own tormenter; or perhaps transferring to others a portion of the malignity and peevishness engendered by the natural, adventitious, or imaginary evils which he feels. Scars, fractures, and dislocations in his body, are trivial misfortunes compared with imbecility, timidity, or fretfulness of mind. Besides the pernicious effects of inactivity in relaxing the nerves, and consequently in depressing the spirits, nothing can be more productive of discontent, envy, jealousy, and every mean and malignant passion, than a painful impression of dependence on others, and of our insufficiency for our own happiness. This impression, which even in his most improved state will be but too deeply felt by every blind man, is redoubled by that utter incapacity of action superinduced by the officious humanity of those who would anticipate or supply all his wants, prevent all his motions, and do or procure every thing for him without his own interposition. It is the course of nature that blind people, as well as others, should survive their parents; and it may likewise happen to them to survive those who, by the ties of blood and nature, are more immediately interested in their happiness. But when they come to be dependent on the world, such exigencies as they themselves cannot meet will be but coldly and languidly supplied by strangers. If their expectations be high, their disappointments will be the more sensible; their desires will often be resisted, seldom fully gratified; and, even when their requests are granted, the concession will sometimes be so ungraceful as to deprive it of the character of kindness. For these reasons, we repeat, that, in the training of a blind man, it is infinitely better to direct than to supersede his own exertions. From the time he can move and feel, let him be taught to supply his own wants; to dress and to feed himself; to run from place to place, either for exercise or in pursuit of his own amusements or avocations.

In these excursions, however, it will be proper for the parent or tutor to superintend his motions at a distance, without seeming to watch over him. A vigilance too apparent may defeat its own object, and create, in a mind naturally jealous, a suspicion of its originating in some interested motive. But, on the other hand, when dangers are obvious and great, those who are intrusted with the care of the blind will find it neither necessary nor expedient to make their vigilance a secret. They ought then to acquaint their pupil that they are present with him, and to interpose for bis preservation whenever his temerity renders it necessary. But objects of a nature less noxious, which may give him some pain without any permanent injury or mutilation, may with design be thrown in this way, provided, however, that the design be industriously concealed; for his own experience of their bad effects will prove a much more eloquent and sensible caution than the abstract and frigid counsels of any monitor whatever.

When the season of childish amusement has expired, and the impetuosity of animal spirits has abated, the tutor will probably observe, in the whole demeanour of his pupil, a more sensible degree of timidity and precaution, and his activity will then require to be stimulated rather than restrained. In this crisis, exercise will be found requisite to preserve health and facilitate the vital functions, as well as for the mere purpose of recreation; and, of all kinds of exercise, riding on horseback will be found by far the most eligible and advantageous. On such occasions, however, care must be taken that the horses employed be neither capricious nor unmanageable; for on the docility of the animal which he rides, not only the safety, but the confidence, of the blind will entirely depend. In these expeditions, whether long or short, his companion or attendant ought to be constantly with him; and the horse should either be taught to follow its guide, or be conducted by a leading rein. Next to this mode of exercise is walking. If the constitution of the blind boy be tolerably robust, let him be taught to encounter every vicissitude of weather which the human constitution can endure with impunity. And when the cold is so intense, or the elements so tempestuous, as to render air and exercise abroad impracticable, there are methods of exercise within doors, which, though not equally salutary, are still highly eligible. The dumb-bells, the bath-chair or spring board, and the common swing, have been particularly recommended for this purpose; and as each affords an agreeable exercitation, any of them may be had recourse to at pleasure.
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But without dilating further in general observations and recommendations, we shall now proceed to give some account of the practical methods employed in developing the physical and intellectual faculties of the blind, and particularly in communicating to them elementary instruction in the ordinary branches of education; and, with this view, we shall endeavour to describe as briefly as possible the system practised in the Asylum for the Industrious Blind in Edinburgh,—an institution which has long been managed with equal judgment and success, and which, although in some respects inferior to that of Paris, is nevertheless upon the whole well calculated to serve as a model for others of a similar description.

This asylum was for many years the only one of the kind in Scotland; but latterly an institution of the same description has been formed at Glasgow, and is now conducted upon nearly the same plan. It was originally intended for men; and, during a period of twenty-eight years from its formation, no provision whatever was made for the employment or instruction of the blind of the other sex, who, from their greater helplessness, have still stronger claims to the charitable and humane consideration of the public. But about the year 1820 a female asylum was instituted under the care of the same directors, though in a separate house; and both branches of this interesting establishment are now conducted upon the same general plan, and with nearly equal success.

The leading feature of this plan is to combine industry with instruction, and alternately to find occupation for the hands and heads of those who are admitted into the asylum. Accordingly, the men and boys are employed in making baskets of all descriptions; in weaving cloth of cotton, linen, and hair; in rope-making in all its branches; in forming matrasses of straw, sea-grass, and hair, and in stuffing beds; in working door-mats, hearth-rugs, and other articles of this description; and, in general, in any occupation for which they have a taste, or in which they are likely to excel. The females, on the other hand, are employed in sewing, knitting, spinning, and other occupations peculiar or suited to their sex, especially in the different kinds of “plain and white seam,” as it is called, which they execute with singular neatness. Stockings, shoes, snow-boots, table-mats, table-covers, shawls of all descriptions and colours, spensers, tippets, dresses for ladies and gentlemen, hair-mits, and such like articles, are also manufactured in the asylum. A great part of the knitted fancy work has, we understand, been invented by the mistress of the house; and such is the perfection to which this elegant branch of industry has been carried, that its products are said to have found their way to all parts of the world.

France has done much towards the education of the blind, which indeed has engrossed a large share of attention in that country; but although the methods employed are in some respects superior in point of scientific adaptation, it may, nevertheless, be doubted whether any institution in the neighbouring kingdom be upon a more efficient footing than that in Edinburgh, which owes not only its existence, but the success which has attended its endeavours, to the spontaneous and benevolent zeal of enlightened individuals. Various opinions have been expressed respecting the French method of teaching the blind to read by means of letters in relief,—a very ingenious though by no means a recent invention.^[3. The first attempt of this kind appears to have consisted in a modification of the Illyrian or Sclavonian alphabet, which was doubtless preferred on account of the square form of the letters; but on trial it was found to possess no advantage over the common characters, and to have disadvantages peculiar to itself. (Fournier, Manuel Typographique, tome ii. p. 226, No. 68, 1766.) Movable letters on small tablets of wood were next tried; but after a time this expedient was also abandoned, as not suited for the instruction of the blind, though singularly well adapted for teaching children who see to read. In fact, it was by means of similar letters that Usher, afterwards archbishop of Armagh, was taught to read by his two aunts, who were both blind. { Biographia Britannica, voce Usher; London, 1773). In the sixteenth century letters were engraved in wood for the instruction of the blind ;—these, however, were not in relief, but cut out in the ordinary way of engraving ;—the fingers could with difficulty be employed in ascertaining their configuration ;— when used in printing, the letters remained white, whilst the rest of the space was blackened ;—and hence they had none of the advantages which belong to letters in relief, and which are essential in the instruction of the blind. (Francesco Lucas, Arte de Escrivir, Madrid, 1580, 4to.) This method was reproduced with some modifications in 1575, by Rampazzetto, an Italian; but with no better success. { Essemplare di più sorti di Lettere di Μ. Gio Francesco Cresci, Milanese, Scrittore en Venetia; 1575, 4to.) In 1640 a writing-master of Paris, called Pierre Moreau, caused movable characters to be cast in lead for the use of the blind; but, discouraged by the difficulties he met with, or not choosing to incur the expense to which the prosecution of the scheme would have subjected him, he abandoned it, and applied himself to the formation of matrices for a new variety of letter, which still bears his name in French typography. A simpler and more ingenious method than any of these consisted in forming letters by means of pins stuck into large pincushions, leaving out only the heads, which of course were easily felt, and rendered the shape of the letters quite distinct as well as palpable, while the arrangement could be altered at pleasure, and with extreme facility. By this natural and easy plan the celebrated Mademoiselle Paradis learned to read. Various other modes were also tried; letters in wood were again had recourse to, and again dropped; and no method secured general approbation till 1783, when letters in relief, that is, letters raised, or as it were embossed on paper, were first invented, and, being gradually improved, were afterwards employed in the instruction of the blind in France. Nor has this invention as yet been superseded by any thing that seems better adapted to the purpose. ] It has been said, for example, that angular letters are preferable to circular ones, as being more easily felt; and Mr Gall of Edinburgh has constructed an alphabet of this kind on the French plan, whilst others have been making trial of a variety of shapes and forms with a view to the same object. But no device of this kind has hitherto been patronised by the directors of the Edinburgh institution; nor, as far as we know, has any one yet been proposed which is in all respects calculated to answer the end proposed. From what has been done, however, for enabling the blind to feel a written language, it seems practicable, by some analogous method, to teach them both to read and write; and we are inclined to hope that such a method, combining distinctness with simplicity and cheapness, will in time be discovered.

In the Edinburgh institution the men and women are taught to read and write by means of what is called the “string alphabet.” This is formed by so knotting a cord, ribbon, or the like, that the protuberances thus made upon it may, by their shape, size, and situation, denote the elements of language. The letters of this alphabet are distributed into seven classes, which are distinguished by certain knots or marks; and each class comprehends four letters, excepting the last, which includes only two. The first or A class is distinguished by a large round knot; the second or E class, by a knot projecting from the line; the third or I class, by a series of links, vulgarly called the “drummer’s plait the fourth or M class, by a single noose; the fifth or Q class, by a noose with a line drawn through it; the sixth or U class, by a noose with a net-knot cast on it; the seventh or Y class, by a twisted noose. The first letter of each class is denoted by the simple characteristic of its respective class; the second by the characteristic and a common knot close to it; the third by the characteristic and a common knot half an inch from it; [7:4:698] and the fourth by the characteristic and a common knot an inch from it. Thus, A is expressed by a large round knot; B by a large round knot, with a common knot close to it; C by a large round knot, and a common knot half an inch from it; and D by a large round knot, and a common knot an inch from it; and so in the case of the other classes. This alphabet was invented by Robert Milne and David Macbeath, both at one time inmates of the asylum, and it is found by experience to answer the purpose for which it was intended, as by means of it the blind can communicate with their friends and with one another.

Robert Milne, one of the persons above named, also improved the arithmetical board. An instrument of this kind had been invented by Dr Saunderson, and afterwards modified by Dr Moyes; but the board used in the asylum is considered as superior to it in several respects, and has lately undergone a further improvement by the substitution of metal for wood; in consequence of which it has been rendered both cheaper and more correct than before. By means of this instrument both men and women are taught figuring, and may be carried to any extent in arithmetical acquirement. Two small square pins with knobs represent the ten digits.^[4. For an account of the method employed in the Royal Institution of Paris, see Dr Guillié’s Essai sur l’Instruction des Aveugles, p. 159. In Paris, as in Edinburgh, Saunderson’s table has been abandoned as operose and inconvenient. ]

The blind are taught geography, both ancient and modern, by means of globes and boards constructed solely for their use; astronomy, by means of an orrery and celestial maps similarly adapted; and mathematics, on a board of analogous construction. In all these branches of science the progress they make is considerable, and, with reference to their peculiar situation, astonishing. As the plan of the globes and boards is exceedingly simple, a few words on each will suffice. From a plan submitted to him, the present master constructed two globes, one thirty and the other thirty-six inches in diameter. Having described the meridians and parallels of latitude, and drawn the boundary lines of countries, and divisions of all kinds, he glued on twine or cord on such lines as are continuous, employing shorter pieces to indicate rivers, and pins to denote towns: the portions representing land are covered with fine sand; the rivers and seas are left smooth; the meridian circle, which is of iron, is so deeply marked as to render the divisions easily felt; and the equator is indicated by small pins. The globes, thus prepared and adapted, have been found by experience completely to answer the purposes of instruction. With regard to the maps, again, they are pasted on square boards, and have cord glued on the boundary lines, in precisely the same manner as the globes.^[5. In the Parisian institution improvement has been carried a step further; fine iron wire covered after the fashion of milliners ı used instead of cord for the divisions, as well as the meridians and parallels of latitude; whilst towns and islands are represented J hemispherically-headed nails of different sizes; and over the whole blank paper is pasted, so as in fact to form a skeleton map in relief. ( Guillié, >p. 117, 149.) ] The orrery has brass hoops or rings to represent the orbits of the planets, which are indicated by balls or spheres of proper relative dimensions, and slide at pleasure along the rings or orbits; the ecliptic, or the outer edge of the circular board, is marked with the degrees of the circle and the days of the month in such a manner as to be felt; and the signs of the zodiac are raised figures, also placed on the edge. The celestial maps consist of square and oblong boards, on which is glued Bristol paper, cut into the figure of the sign or constellation which it is intended to represent, after which steel knobs of different sizes are driven in to indicate the different magnitudes of the stars, while small knobs on the sides of the board denote the degrees. The mathematical board is a square of fourteen inches, full of small holes, with a few pins fitted to them, so as to represent certain letters of the alphabet; while with fine cord or twine extended from the angular points are formed the lines of the figure or diagram, whatever it may be. The globes and boards for geography, as well as the orrery, celestial maps, and mathematical board, were invented in 1824, and are used in no other institution excepting that of Glasgow, and that of Boston in North America, to each of which a set of these instruments was transmitted by order of the directors of the Edinburgh Asylum. In as far as we are able to judge, these latter instruments seem superior to those employed in the Parisian institution; at all events they are simpler, which is a great advantage; and with regard to the mathematical board, the method of representing the diagrams appears to be by far the best that has yet been employed.

The inmates of this establishment are also taught to play on the violin and piano-forte. They read the music from boards constructed for their use, but by whom invented we have not learned. The game of draughts is a favourite amusement with them. It is played on a board of the common kind, but the alternate squares are covered with sand, and in each there is a small hole fitted to receive a pin, attached to the piece, which is thus retained in the position in which it is placed.

The greater part of the inmates of this institution consists of persons who originally lost their sight by disease or accident; and there are but few who have been blind from their birth. At the same time, it has been remarked that when one child in a family is born blind, those that follow it are also generally born blind. There are two or three instances of this in the asylum; and we know several others without the walls of the institution. This succession of blindness is probably to be referred to the force of imagination; and, in fact, the mother of two blind children being questioned on the subject, stated her belief that the second instance was occasioned by her continually looking on and thinking of her sightless child.

The experience acquired in the institution confirms the general observation which we made at the outset, that the loss of one faculty, especially sight, is almost always accompanied by a compensatory and counterbalancing improvement in the other senses and faculties. This undoubtedly arises, not from any original superiority in the senses or faculties which remain, but from a closer attention to their indications, and above all from incessant application. The sense of touch, in particular, is signally improved, and, as it were, quickened in blind persons, who have no other means of discovering the size and figure of the bodies presented to them. With regard to the statement, however, which has sometimes been made, that they can distinguish colours by touch, we may mention that no instance of such extreme delicacy of touch has occurred in the experience of the Edinburgh institution. Memory, like touch, is also improved by constant use and application; and this holds equally true in all cases, though it is more signally exemplified in the case of the blind, who depend so much on this faculty. It has been thought that the memories of the blind are greatly assisted by the exclusion of external objects, which from their multiplicity tend to distract the attention; but as darkness magnifies dangers, which consequently engross the thoughts and excite continual apprehensions, it may reasonably be doubted whether the attention of the blind [7:4:699] not at times as Kable to be disturbed as that of those who possess the blessing of sight, and receive impressions from the external world; and hence it is to application chiefly that the improvement of this faculty in the case of the blind ought to be ascribed.

The same observation holds true in regard to those signs and indications which persons,who see neglect because they are not necessary to be attended to, but which are of great importance to the blind, and are consequently carefully attended to by them. Hence they can discover by the voice whether a person be tall or short, agreeable or disagreeable, and also form some judgment of the passions and affections of the mind. They have even in some cases attempted, from such indications, to describe the external form and beauty of a person. They know the steps of their friends and companions even at a distance. Breathing and smell also afford indications. In hearing a sermon they can tell by the sound of the preacher’s voice whether he uses notes; and currents of air, or different modifications of atmospherical pressure, enable them to discover when they approach any object or building. Their curiosity is so intense that at any risk it must be gratified; and as they are often not aware of the danger to which they expose themselves, they generally attain their object. It is a remarkable fact, that a person born blind never dreams that he sees the object of his dreams.

The blind have been made to communicate with the deaf and dumb by means of the finger alphabet; the former, of course, appealing to the sight of the latter, and the latter forming the alphabetical characters palpably on the fingers of the former. An attempt was also made by the deaf and dumb to discover what was said by the blind from the varying configuration of their lips in speaking; but it did not succeed to any extent, and was abandoned, more especially as it could be employed by only one of the parties. In France the means of communication between these two classes of unfortunates have been improved by the invention of a set of pantomimic signs, representing not letters, but words or ideas. These are formed by means of the arms, which being extended somewhat in the manner of a telegraph, are made, by each change of position, to represent a word or idea; and when the blind communicate in this way with the deaf and dumb, their arms are placed in contact, and they go through the strange but ingenious pantomime together in a manner equally grotesque and amusing.

The experience acquired in the Parisian institution is substantially in accordance with what has been stated as the results of continued observation in the Edinburgh asylum. Dr Guillié is decidedly of opinion that the blind have no natural superiority in any sense or faculty over those who possess all their faculties in an ordinary state of perfection. “L’adresse qu’on remarque dans les aveugles pour le toucher,” says he, “et l’aptitude des sourds-muets à saisir tous les traits de la physionomic, résultent de la nécessité où ils sont, les uns, de se servir presque continuellement du tact pour suppléer à la vue qui leur manque, et les autres, d’employer la vue pour remplacer l’ouie et la parole: l’organe n’en est pas moins en tout semblable à celui des clair-voyans; et si l’aveugle-né opéré par Cheselden ne reconnaissait plus par le toucher, après l’extraction de la cataracte, les objets comme il le faisait auparavant, ce n’est pas qu’il eût perdu, en recevant la vue, la faculté de toucher, mais sculement, parce qu’il ne l’employait plus que comme sens auxiliaire et correctif de la vue.” P. 32, 33. In this opinion the Abbé Sicard, Dr Guillié’s distinguished colleague, completely coincides.

“The memory of the blind is prodigious” This fact has been exemplified in Paris as well as in Edinburgh and everywhere else; how to account for it is another question. In man there is a memory of sensation and a memory of intelligence: the one recalling his merely physical perceptions; and the other his reflections, judgments, reasonings, speculations, and moral sentiments. Now it is principally with the latter description of memory that the blind are eminently provided; and although they are deprived of the means which persons having the use of sight possess for forming an artificial kind of mnemonics, it is probable that they construct an internal scheme for their own use, and of still superior efficacy. Such at least is the opinion of Dr Guillié; and it appears to be well founded. Helvetius has remarked (De (Esprit, chap. iii. disc. 3), that a great memory is a phenomenon of order; that it is almost entirely factitious; and that among men well organised, the great inequality of memory is less the effect of unequal perfection in the organ or faculty which produces it, than of unequal attention in cultivating it. But the blind are in general eminently distinguished for the spirit of order, referred to by the French philosopher’as the basis of a great memory; and as the faculty in question depends mainly on association, of which natural arrangement or classification is the very essence, it must of course be greatly strengthened in minds which are animated by the spirit of order, and have a tendency to arrange their ideas in a strictly logical sequence.

Another peculiarity of the blind is great fecundity of imagination; united in some with a facility in analyzing and recombining their ideas, to which their extraordinary progress in the exact sciences is to be ascribed. Of the former quality, Homer, Milton, Delille, and many others might be cited as examples; of the latter we shall give two instances in the words of Dr Guillié. “Le premier est Paingeon, qui, par l’esprit de l’ordre dont il est doué, a acquis des connaissances transcendantes en mathématiques, et après avoir remporté, en 1806, tous les premiers prix au concours général des quatre Lycées de Paris, fut nommé, par le Grand Maitre de l’Université, professeur de mathématiques au Lycée d’Angers: l’autre est J. Delille, aujourd’hui pensionnaire des Quinze-Vingts, qui a porté très-loin la métaphysique de la langage Française; un aplomb parfait, one précision admirable dans ses definitions, caractérisent surtout ce sujet que nous nous énorgueillissons d’avoir formé.” Both were educated under Dr Guillié, at the Royal Institution for the instruction of the blind.

On the subject of the moral condition of the blind Dr Guillié has stated many curious and interesting particulars. Theyare generally deficient in modesty or shame. “La pudeur, qui est une des grâces de la jeunesse, est presque pour eux un être imaginaire, quoiqu’ils aient une sorte de timidité qui tient peut-être plus, il est vrai, de crainte que de la honte, mais qui augmente beaucoup leur embarras dans certaines circonstances.” They are, it is said, for the most part without sensibility and without gratitude; irritable, suspicious, vindictive, implacable. Their situation obliges them to be on their guard against all the world; the consciousness of their own deficiency, and the disadvantages under which it places them, render them suspicious as well as selfish; and, by an easy, and we had almost said natural transition, they come to arrange in the same category their benefactors and their enemies. “Commes de toutes les demonstrations extérieures, qui réveillent en nous la commisération et les idées de la douleur, les aveugles ne sont affectés que par la plainte,” says Diderot, “je les soupçonne, en general, d’inhumanité. Quelle différence y a-t-il, pour un aveugle, entre un homme qui urine et un homme qui, sans se plaindre, verse son sang? Nous-mêmes, ne cessons-nous pas de compatir, lorsque la distance, ou la petitesse des objets, produit sur nous le même effet que la privation de la vue chez les aveugles.” [7:4:700] (Lettres sur les Aveugles?) This is too strongly stated; but the principle in human nature, on which the striking observation of Diderot is founded, would lead us to anticipate, at least in part, the moral results to which we have alluded. It has been alleged that the blind have a tendency towards atheism; but this is denied by Dr Guillié, who, however, qualifies his contradiction by a very lamentable admission: “Néanmoins, je ne les justifierai pas entièrement du reproche d’impiété qu’on leur a fait avec quelque fondement and he adds, “la conscience enfin n’a pas sur leurs actions l’influence qu’elle a sur nous.” But as these observations are grounded on a partial experience, we hope they have no application to the blind of this country, amongst whom sounder principles and better feelings will always, we trust, prevail; nor will they ever lose a sense of dependence on that Being, whose existence they have only to stretch forth their hands to discover, and who has opened the eye of humanity to compassionate, and the hand of charity to relieve, their wants.

Hietory has preserved sundry particulars of blind persons, who, of themselves, acquired great knowledge before there existed any regular method of instruction applicable to their case. The number of these is considerable; so much so, indeed, that any accurate enumeration would not only be a task of great difficulty in itself, but would also far exceed the limits prescribed to this article. It may not be uninteresting, however, to signalize a few of those who have made the greatest figure in science and in art.

The number of blind appears to have been very considerable in Asia and Italy in the time of the Romans. This İ3 proved by the great number of physicians who at the epoch in question wrote on ocular diseases; but what mode of instruction, or whether any at all, was employed in those times, we have not learned. Diogenes Laertius and Thrasylus relate (Diog. Laert. lib. ix., Vossius, De Philosophia) that several philosophers voluntarily deprived themselves of sight in order to pursue their contemplations with less interruption; and, amongst those who inflicted on themselves this deprivation, is cited Democritus of Abdera. But it is scarcely probable that this philosopher, the companion of the gymnosophists of India, a man who laughed at every thing, and whom his countrymen wished Hippocrates to cure of madness, because he believed that all things were as they ought to be, depending on chance and the fortuitous aggregations of atoms, should have put out his eyes in order to scoff philosophically, when he might have indulged his humour to so much better purpose with the use of his sight. Besides, putting out the eyes was next to crucifixion, one of the most ignominious punishments inflicted by the laws of ancient times, and as such was reserved only for great criminals. It may therefore be doubted whether the laughing philosopher of Abdera would, on a mere hypothesis, treat himself like a felon: and the words of Cicero, “Democritus impediri etiam animi aciem aspectu oculorum arbitrabatur (Tuscul. Disp. v. 39), which have been often quoted, seem rather to express a general opinion than to state a particular fact, or warrant the inference that the philosopher had deprived himself of sight because he thought that the penetration of the mental was impeded by the vision of the natural eye.

Diodatus, Cicero’s master in philosophy, applied himself to study with more assiduity than ever, after he had lost his sight; and, what is still more remarkable, he taught geometry with so much precision, that his disciples found no difficulty in comprehending how to trace the most complicated figures from his instructions. (Cicero, ubi supra; Zahn, Specul. PhysicoMath. Hist, tome iii. c. 6.) Cornelius Aufidius, a Roman citizen, who had lost his sight in his youth, distinguished himself in the study of elegant literature, and wrote a Greek history. (Zahn, Sens. Ext. Mirab. § 2.) Eusebius the Asiatic became blind at five years of age. He acquired vast knowledge and profound erudition, and taught with the utmost facility as well as success. (Cassiodorus De lust. Div. Litter· c. 5.) St Jerome has left an account of Dydimus of Alexandria, his master, of whom he speaks with great respect. This blind man, who had lost his sight at the same age with Eusebius, flourished in the fourth century. Ruffinus, Paladus, Isidorus, and several other celebrated men, were his disciples. He acquired great knowledge by having the sacred and profane authors read to him; he was one of the ablest mathematicians of his time; and he applied himself especially to theology, for which he had a decided taste. He composed several works, the principal of which is A Treatise on the Holy Spirit, translated into Latin by St Jerome. Dydimus was pious as well as learned: nevertheless, his attachment to the opinions of Origen, on whose books he had commented, caused his works to be condemned after his death by the council of Lateran. St Athanasius and St Antony had the greatest esteem for him. Dydimus died A. d. 398, at the age of eighty-five. (Hieronymus De Viris Iilustr. c. 109; Socrates, lib. iv. c. 25; Ruffinus, lib. ii. c. 7.)

Nicaise of Malignes flourished in the fifteenth century, and enjoyed great reputation for the extent of his learning. Blind from the age of three years, he nevertheless made great advances in science, and taught publicly, in the university of Cologne, both the civil and canon law, citing from memory long passages which he had never seen, quos nunquam viderat. Having been elected doctor of Louvain, the pope granted a dispensation for his admission to priests’ orders; after which he employed the rest of his life in preaching, and died at Cologne in 1492. (Urithème et Valère, Bibliothèque des Ecrivains des Pays-Bas.) James Shegkius, born at Shorndorf, in the duchy of Wirtemburg, taught philosophy and medicine with great success at Tubingen for about thirteen years. Having early become blind, he was so little sensible of the loss of sight that he refused to allow himself to be couched by an oculist, who offered to restore vision—in order, as he said, not to be obliged to see many things which appeared odious or ridiculous. He died at Tubingen in 1587, leaving several treatises on different points of philosophy, medicine, and controversy. (Zahn, Visus Im. Dep. et Caecit. Ex. Mir. p∙ 114.) John Fernand, born in Belgium, was the son of a Spaniard, and blind from his birth. His father was very poor; but he surmounted the obstacles both of poverty and blindness, and became a poet, logician, philosopher, and musician. He composed from memory several pieces, which are considered excellent of their kind. (Zahn, ubi supra.) Ascanius Pedianus the historian lived several years after the loss of his sight, and wrote treatises on grammar, which exhibit no trace either of his age or infirmity. (Fulgosus, lib. viii. c. 7.)

Uldaric Schomberg, born in Germany towards the commencement of the seventeenth century, lost his sight by the small-pox at the age of three; but as he grew up he applied himself to the study of the belles-lettres, which he afterwards professed with credit at Altorf, at Leipsic, and at Hamburg. (C. Harknocks, Alt und Neu Prβussen> 1684.) Bourchenu de Valbonais, born at Grenoble in 1651, became blind when very young, soon after the naval combat at Solbaye, where he had been present. But this accident did not prevent him from publishing the History 0 J Dauphine, in two volumes folio. He had made profound researches into the history of his province, and, besides the work just mentioned, published a Nobiliaire of Dauphine. (Feller, vol. ii.) Of Dr Nicoas Saunderson, Lucasian [7:4:701] professor of Mathematics in the University of Cambridge, and one of the most remarkable men of his time, some account will be found under the proper head. He was born in 1682, at a small town in the county of York, and died at Cambridge in 1739, at the age'of fifty-six. He invented a table, which has since been greatly improved, for teaching arithmetic palpably to the blind. A notice of Dr Blacklock will be found under the biography of that individual. Dr Henry Moyes professed the Newtonian philosophy, which he taught with considerable success as an itinerant lecturer. He was also a good chemist, a respectable mathematician, and a tolerable musician.

Μ. Phefel of Colmar, who lost his sight when very young, in consequence of a violent ophthalmia, composed a great deal of poetry (6 vols. 8vo, Colmar, 1791), consisting chiefly of fables, some of which have been translated into French by M. Degerando. He was privy counsellor to the margrave of Baden; and established at Colmar a military school or academy, where children of the best families were sent to be educated. Among the pupils of this learned blind man may be mentioned Prince Schwartzemberg, Prince Eisemburg, and M. Heilman, lately pensionary of the Quinze-Vingts. He died at Colmar in 1809. Weissemburg of Manheim became blind at the age of seven. He wrote perfectly, and read with characters which he had imagined for his own use. He was an excellent geographer, and composed maps and globes, which he employed both in studying and teaching this science. He was the inventor of an arithmetical table, differing but little from that of Saunderson. (Journal de Paris, April, 1784.)

The blind man of Puiseaux must be known to all who have read Diderot’s celebrated Lettres sur les Aveugles. He was the son of a professor of philosophy in the university of Paris, and he had attended with advantage courses of chemistry and botany at the Jardin du Roi. After having dissipated a part of his fortune he retired to Puiseaux, where he established a distillery, the products of which he came regularly once ayear to Paris to dispose of. There was originality in every thing that he did. His custom was to sleep during the day, and to rise in the evening; he worked all night, “because,” as he himself said, “he was not then disturbed by anybody.” His wife, when she rose in the morning, used to find every thing perfectly arranged. He spoke very sensibly of the qualities and defects of the organ in which he was deficient, and answered questions put to him with much justness and discrimination. Being interrogated as to the idea he formed of a mirror, he replied, “C’est une machine qui met les choses en relief loin d’elles-mêmes, si elles se trouvent placées convenablement par rapport à elle. C’est comme ma main qu’il ne faut pas que je pose à côté d’un objet pour le sentir.” To Diderot, who visited him at Puis eaux, he put some very singular questions on the transparence of glass, colours, and such like matters. He asked if naturalists were the only persons who saw with the microscope, and if astronomers were the only persons who saw with the telescope; if the machine which magnified objects was greater than that which diminished them; if that which brought them near was shorter than that which removed them to a distance. He believed that astronomers had eyes of different conformation from those of other men, and that a man could not devote himself to the study of a particular science without having eyes specially adapted for the purpose. “The eye,” said he, “is an organ upon which the air ought to produce die same effect as my cane does upon my hand.” He possessed the memory of sounds to a surprising degree, and recognised by the voice those whom he had only heard speak once. He could tell if he was in a thoroughfare or ιn a cul-de-sac, in a large or in a small place. He estimated the proximity of fire by the degree of heat; the comparative fulness of vessels by the sound of the liquor in falling; and the neighbourhood of bodies by the action of the air on his face. Being asked on one occasion if he would not be very well pleased to have eyes, he replied, “Si la curiosité ne me dominait pas, j’aimerais bien autant avoir de longs bras: il me semble que mes mains m’instruiraient mieux de ce qui se passe dans la lune que vos yeux ou vos telescopes; et puis les yeux cessent plutôt de voir que les mains de toucher. Il vaudrait done bien autant qu’on perfectionnât en moi l’organe que j’ai, que de m’accorder celui qui me manque.” He employed characters in relief in order to teach his son to read, and the latter never had any other master than his father.

Μ. Huber of Geneva, an excellent naturalist, and author of the best treatise extant on bees and ants, was blind from his earliest infancy. In reading the descriptions of these insects, we can scarcely persuade ourselves that they are not the production of a singularly clear-sighted man, well versed in this branch of natural history. In executing his great work, however, M. Huber had no other assistance than what he derived from his domestic, who mentioned to him the colour of the insects; and then he ascertained their form and size by touch, with the same facility as he would have recognised them by their humming when flying in the air. This laborious writer has also published a valuable work on education.

Francis Lcsueur, born of very poor parents, at Lyons, on the 5th of August 1766, lost his sight when only six weeks old. He went to Paris in 1778, and was begging at the gate of a church, when Μ. Haüy, discovering in the young mendicant some inclination to study, received him, and undertook the task of instructing him, at the same time promising him a sum equal to that which he had collected in alms. Lesueur began to study in October 1784. Six months after, he was able to read, to compose with characters in relief, to print; and in less than two years he had. learned the French language, geography, and music, which he understood very well. His intelligence and penetration were indeed surprising, and he was among the blind what Massieu has since been among the deaf and dumb. He was successively repeater to his comrades, head of the printing and economy of the institution for the blind, and pensionary of the Quinze-Vingts. It is painful to add, that he proved unthankful to his benefactor and master, to whom he owed every thing; and that by his conduct he merited the reproach of ingratitude, a vice which, with some reason, has been charged against the blind generally.

Avisse, born at Paris, was one of the most distinguished élèves of the institution. His father, who kept furnished lodgings in the Rue Guénĉgaud, intended him for the sea; and he embarked when very young on board a vessel fitted out for the slave-trade, in the capacity of secretary or clerk to the captain; but he was struck by a coup de vent on the coast of Africa, and lost his sight from the violent inflammation which ensued. On his return his parents procured his admission into the institution for the blind, where, in a few years, he became professor of grammar and logic. He produced a comedy in verse, in one act, entitled, La Ruse dAveugle, which was performed on the 2d Nivose, year 5; a scene, also in verse, entitled Ľ Atelier des Aveugles-travailleurs; and several other pieces, which were all printed in one volume 12mo. in the year 1803. He died before he had completed his thirty-first year, at the very time when the high hopes entertained of him were on the point of being realized.

Nor have the blind been less distinguished in the practice of the arts than in science and literature. Many instances of their eminence in this respect may be mentioned. Indeed, the want of sight seems little or no impediment to manual dexterity. Stengel mentions a young [7:4:702] cabinet-maker of Ingolstadt, who, having lost his sight by an explosion of gun-powder, amused himself by constructing pepper-mills, which he made without the use of any Ģther instrument than a common knife, and executed with so much exactness and elegance that they were thought deserving of a place in the gallery of curiosities at Munich, where they may still be seen. (Laurentius Stengelius De Monstris, c. 16.) Sir Kenelm Digby has stated several extraordinary particulars of a preceptor of his son, who was so completely blind that he could not distinguish the light of noonday from midnight. He surpassed in skill the ablest players at chess; at long distances he shot arrows with such precision as almost never to miss the mark; he constantly went abroad without a guide, and frequented most of the public promenades; he regularly took his place at table, and ate with such dexterity that it was impossible to perceive he was blind; when any one spoke to him for the first time, he was able to tell with certainty his stature and the form of his body; and when his pupils recited in his presence, he knew in what situation and attitude they were. (Digbaeus De Nat. Corpor. c. 28.) Aldovrandus mentions (Hist. Monstr.') a butcher of Boulogne, who estimated by touch the weight of the animal he was about to kill. M. de Piles saw in Italy a blind man, a native of Cambassy in Tuscany, who was a very good designer. M. de Piles met him in the Justiniani Palace, where he was modelling in wax a statue of Minerva. By means of touch, he had seized with precision the form and proportions of the original. The duke of Bracciano, who had seen him working, doubted whether he was completely blind; and, in order to put the matter to the test, he caused the artist to take his portrait in a dark cave. It proved a striking likeness. Some, however, objecting that the duke’s beard, which was of patriarchal amplitude, had helped the artist to recognise him, the latter offered to execute a portrait of one of the duke’s daughters, which he accordingly did, and it also proved an excellent likeness. “J’ai vû,” says M. de Piles, “sortis des mains de cet illustre aveugle les portraits du feu roi d’Angleterre, Charles I., celui du pape Urbain VIII., et en France, le portrait de M. Hesselin, tous parfaitement exécutés.” (Cours de Peinture, p 260, 1766.) “Nous avons vu, dès nos jours,” says Dr Guillié, to whom we are indebted for the particulars of the more distinguished blind, “M. Buret, l’un des plus habiles sculpteurs de l’académie, devenu aveugle, à l’âge de vingt-cinq ans, par suite de la petite vérole, ne pas cesser pour cela de travailler, comme le faisait l’aveugle de Cambassy.” (Essai sur l’instruction des Aveugles, p. 94, Paris, 1817.)

Giovanni Gambasio of Volterra lost his sight at the age of twenty, and remained ten years in this state, ignorant of even the elements of sculpture. All of a sudden, however, “the desire of making a statue came upon him and having handled in every way a marble figure representing Cosmo de’ Medici, he formed one of clay, so extremely like that it astonished all who saw it. His talent for sta- ' tuary now developed itself to such a degree, that Prince Ferdinand, grand duke of Tuscany, sent him to Rome to model the statue of pope Urban VIII. which he also rendered a striking likeness of the original. He afterwards executed many others with equal success. (Aldovrandus, Hist. Monstr.') A Dutch organist, blind from his early youth, became very skilful in his profession; he also acquired the habit of distinguishing by touch the different kinds of money, and even, it is said, the primary colours. He was a first-rate card-player; for in dealing he knew the cards which he gave to others as well as those which he kept for himself. (Lecat, Traites des Sens, p. 11.) Chauvet, born blind, was for several years organist of Notre-Dame-de-Bonne-Nouvelle at Paris. Mademoiselle Paradis of Vienna, who had lost her sight when two years old, formed the delight of the spiritual concerts at Paris in theyear 1784. This lady, who had great talents for musical composition, invented a method of writing whatever she composed, by figuring the concords. She began at first by tracing them on cards pricked with needles; but this first essay proving unsatisfactory, she fell upon another method, which, however, has not been explained,—a circumstance we regret the more, since it has been described as at once certain and of easy execution. Holman, the blind traveller, being still alive, can scarcely with propriety be made the subject of a notice in this place.

This catalogue might easily be extended; but enough has been said, and a sufficient number of facts accumulated, to show what the blind are really capable of. There seems, in truth, to be a sort of compensating power, alike subtile in its resources, and refined in its operation, by which a multitude of latent faculties and unheeded perceptions are called into activity to supply the want of one great inlet of knowledge, and which, taken in the aggregate, and fully developed, appear almost sufficient to fill up the blank which has been left by nature or produced by disease in the catalogue of human organs. Hence there are few things practicable by persons possessed of sight which have not been done by those who want it; whilst in regard to several the balance of advantage is clearly in favour of the blind. This is at once a wise and beneficent provision of nature; in perfect harmony with the whole economy of providence in the structure of the body as well as of the mind of man; and singularly illustrative of that foresight which has provided, with such benevolent care, for the casualties as well as the wants to which we are exposed in the present state of existence. Had the case been otherwise every loss would have been irreparable, and the smallest deprivation would have driven us to despair. (a.) Blind Coal, or Anthracite, corresponds to the glance coal of England, and the stone coal of Wales. It is very common in Scotland, and is sufficiently abundant in Ireland. Being less frequent, and of more difficult inflammability, than the common coal, it is both of minor value and of less utility. It is, however, employed in burning lime, in iron founderies, and in smelting works. See Coal.