DEAF AND DUMB.

The education of those unfortunate children who, from birth or early infancy, have been destitute of the sense of hearing, and who are therefore precluded from receiving instruction in the ordinary way, must obviously be attended with peculiar difficulties. The senses being the only inlets to knowledge, and one of the most important of these inlets being closed, an extensive class of ideas and of associations belonging to them is totally excluded from their minds; and, as the principal medium of mental intercourse does not exist, we are obliged to resort to new and less perfect channels of communication, and to employ peculiar methods and artifices in imparting knowledge. The invention and employment of means calculated to attain these purposes constitutes a particular art, having for its object the instruction of the deaf and dumb; an art which, though it has not hitherto been dignified by any specific appellation, is so highly interesting in a moral as well as philosophical point of view, that we conceive it incumbent upon us to present our readers with some account of the principles on which it is founded, and of the methods which experience has shown to be the most successful.

The proportion of children born deaf, and who must as a necessary consequence remain mute, was formerly supposed to be much smaller than it really is; as appears from the great number of cases which have presented themselves to notice, since the formation of various establishments for the express purpose of their instruction. The celebrity which the Abbé de l’Epée acquired at Paris for his success in this art drew forth into view a multitude of persons of this description, much greater than had ever before beer suspected to exist. It was discovered that about two hundred deaf and dumb persons were living in Paris alone; a number which, calculating from the proportional population, would give above three thousand for the whole of France before the revolution. The same apparent increase has been remarked in every town where similar institutions have been formed; whence we may conclude that this congenital defect is by no means unfrequent.

It is scarcely necessary to observe, that the incapacity of speech in such persons as are designated by the term of deaf and dumb, results altogether from the want of the sense of hearing, and not from any physical imperfection in the organs of speech. Some fanciful writers, indeed, have ascribed it to an alleged sympathy between the organs of hearing and the organs of speech, by which the disease or defect of the former is communicated to the latter; but for this notion there does not appear to be the slightest foundation. All who are deaf from birth must necessarily be dumb; that is, they must be incapable of using language, the sound of which they have never had the perception of, and which they consequently could never attempt to imitate. From a strange inattention to this circumstance, it was usual, even with parents who noticed the slowness of their progress in comparison with other children, to ascribe it to a natural imbecility of intellect, which, they took it for granted, was equally irremediable with the organic defect from which it originated, and effectually precluded all attempt at instruction, and all hope of rendering them useful members of society. Their minds were accordingly suffered to remain without culture; they were abandoned to themselves, degraded from the privileges of men, and exiled from the community of rational beings. To such a culpable extent was this prejudice carried, that it has been the practice in some countries to destroy as monsters all children who remained at three years old incapable of either hearing or speaking. In France the very birth of such children was accounted a sort of disgrace to the family from which they sprung; and the duties of humanity were deemed to extend no further in their behalf, than to the maintenance of their animal existence, whilst they were carefully secluded from the eyes of the world, either within the walls of a convent, or in some hidden asylum in the country. Abandoned thus early to their fate, and regarded as little better than idiots, it is not surprising that their future behaviour should have been such as might seem to justify the narrow views which had prompted this ungenerous treatment. All motives to exertion being withheld, and all desire of improvement being repressed, the faculties soon languished, and became paralysed, for want of proper objects on which they could be exercised; and in time the man sunk to the condition of the brute.

That the neglect and oblivion to which these wretched outcasts of humanity were consigned, were founded on very mistaken notions of their mental powers, has since been fully proved by a great number of instances in which the exertions of benevolent and persevering instructors to convey to them knowledge of various kinds have been crowned with the most signal success. Yet the enterprise has still appeared one of the boldest and most arduous that could well be attempted, and every instance of success excited much astonishment even in persons of great knowledge and scientific attainments. So impressed was Dr Johnson, for example, with the notion of its extraordinary difficulty, that he represents the education of the deaf and dumb as a great philosophical curiosity. The study of the means by which these effects are produced must therefore be highly curious in itself, as throwing light upon that science, which is interesting above all others, namely, the science of the human mind. But it has yet a higher claim to our attention, as being directed to a purpose of great and immediate practical utility. What object can be more worthy of praise, or more congenial to a benevolent heart, than the redemption of a kindred spirit from the degraded and forlorn condition to which it appeared to have been doomed? What occupation can be more delightful in itself than to awaken the dormant powers of the mind, to usher a new world to its acquaintance, to furnish it with the instruments and materials of thought, to open unbounded channels of intercourse with the living and the dead, to inspire the soul with fresh powers as well as motives to exertion, and, by supplying unlimited sources of intellectual and moral improvement, to place within its reach the purest and most elevated enjoyments of which our nature is susceptible?

Before entering into the detail of the particular methods adapted to convey instruction to the deaf and dumb, it will be necessary to inquire more precisely what is the general end we should propose to ourselves in their education, and what are the leading objects to which our endeavours ought, in conformity with this end, to be directed. And it appears to us, that the great and fundamental object should be, to qualify our pupils to hold ready communication with the rest of the world, that is, with persons who, having the faculties of hearing and speech, employ the current language of the country for purposes of mutual intercourse. They must, above all things, be [7:7:646]taught the use of ordinary language, both as an instrument for expressing their own thoughts, and for understanding those of others. This qualification, it is evident, is absolutely essential to their becoming members of that community from which, by nature, they would have been excluded, and to which it is our chief aim to restore them: it is essential to their deriving advantage from, or being of any utility to that community, a reciprocation of interests in which consists the true value and dignity of human nature. It is the only foundation on which they can hereafter build any solid acquirement. Once masters of language, they possess the key to all the sciences, and have access to every species of human knowledge; and their future progress will be proportional to their own diligence, and will be impeded by no obstacles except those which their own exertions are competent to remove.

Language, or the ordinary medium of communication between men, is either spoken or written. To enable the deaf and dumb to speak, so as to be perfectly understood by others, and to enable themselves to understand readily what is said by persons speaking to them, is doubtless the ultimate stage of perfection in the art which we are considering, and would in fact be nearly equivalent to a restoration of the privileges which nature had refused them. But whether we regard such perfection as attainable, and as worth the pains requisite for success, or whether we limit our views to more moderate qualifications, the knowledge of written language must still be an indispensable preliminary in every system of education. Let us first, therefore, direct our attention to the means of communicating to the deaf and dumb this fundamental acquisition. For this purpose it will be necessary to have a clear view of the real nature of the class of ideas we are proposing to instil into the mind of our pupil, and of the real condition of that mind by which they are to be received.

Speech, being the expression of ideas by oral sounds formed into words, is by far the most ready and universal mode of communication among mankind, and must therefore have long preceded the invention of written language, which has accordingly been formed upon the model of speech. Writing, instead of being the direct sign of ideas, as is the case with hieroglyphical characters, or, more properly speaking, rude portraits of external objects, consists of symbols of the particular sounds composing oral language. Written words are in fact the signs of other signs; the one set of signs being addressed to the ear, and the other to the eye. The perceptions of hearing are intermediate links of association between the visible appearances of the written characters, and the ideas they are intended to convey to the mind. This circumstance is the source of the principal difficulties which stand in the way of all instruction to one who is deaf and dumb, one in whom these intermediate perceptions can have no existence, whilst a very different process must be employed for establishing in his mind a connection between ideas and certain signs; because, for want of this step in the process, he is incompetent to trace any regular correspondence or appropriate adaptation of these signs to the ideas they are designed to represent. To an ordinary child, whose ear is already familiar with the name of an object as spoken, and in whose mind the association of the sound with the corresponding idea is firmly established, the learning the use of the letters expressive of such sound is a comparatively easy step in his education. The infant lisping for the first time in broken and faultering accents the endearing name of its parent and its nurse, has in fact made a prodigious stride; he has already entered into human society, and has begun to participate in its blessings. His stock of words daily increases; he feels the value of his new acquisition; his ideas multiply; his powers are developed. Pleasure animates his efforts, and attends every stage of his progress. To learn his native tongue is a sport; to repeat what he has learned is ever a fresh source of delight. The mighty task is accomplished without any extraordinary interference on the part of the instructor, or laborious effort on that of the pupil. Who would dream of appointing a master to supersede nature in teaching the infant to speak? In this act, as in that of walking and running, the scholar of nature, where all around unconsciously aid her in the work, will be found the best proficient. Far different is the lot of that hapless and solitary being, who, born without the sense of hearing, is doomed to eternal silence, and is shut out from the inspiring influence of social intercourse. Debarred from the chief avenue to information at this early and critical period of his intellectual growth, the blandishments of his nurse, the caresses of his parents, the accents of praise or blame, the cry of pain or pleasure, in vain salute his ear. He is already but half a human being. Insulated from the main portion of the world, he must live chiefly within himself; his untutored mind must be left to its own slender resources in the acquisition of knowledge; and his progress must therefore be both slow and limited. He is an eagle whose unfledged wings have been clipped, and who stalks on the ground, unconscious that his inheritance lies in another element.

So deeply rooted do the associations become, which are thus established in our infancy, between ideas and sounds, that we cannot easily perceive how much we have owed to them, and how much of our subsequent acquisitions has been founded upon them; nor can we readily place ourselves in the situation of a child bereft of these advantages, so as to understand the nature and force of the difficulties with which he has to contend in every step of his progress. We might suppose, if we had not attended to these considerations, that the whole business of the tutor of the deaf and dumb would be to point out the words to his pupil, while he, by some other means, communicated to him the ideas of which they are the representatives. It might be presumed that, by frequent repetition of the same process, the pupil could not fail to learn to connect the two together in his mind, and that he would have no occasion to trouble himself with whatever sounds the rest of the world might associate with these written characters; sounds which, as to him they have no existence, so neither do they anywise concern him; and which may be regarded but as useless stepping-stones in forming a communication which he is enabled to accomplish at a single stride.

If such be the illusions into which a prejudice natural to every one tends to betray us, a little reflection on the laws by which associations between ideas are established in the mind will be sufficient to dispel them. There is manifestly a great difference in the comparative facility with which ideas of different kinds become associated in the mind; and since memory consists in the strength and permanence of the associations, there is consequently a great difference in the facility with which different kinds of ideas become impressed and retained in the memory. Some ideas unite immediately, as by a natural affinity, and cannot afterwards be disjoined. In other cases the connection is remote and difficult, and the ideas, like grains of sand, refuse to adhere together. Some intermedium must be found, which may cement and consolidate their union. Some analogy or relation must connect every new idea with a former idea already existing in the mind, before it can become the subject of recollection. The facility with which such connections can be formed will depend much upon the number and variety of ideas already in store, as well as upon the ease [7:7:647] with which the successive transitions can be made from one to another. In casual and apparently arbitrary associations, there exist always a number of invisible links that compose the chain of connection; and the facility with which these links can be formed determines the readiness of the association. We recollect a new name that we see written, from its resemblance to some other name previously known; but it is by means of the sound which it would have when pronounced that this association is effected. That this is the case will soon become apparent, when we reflect on the difficulty experienced in retaining new and barbarous words, of which the pronunciation is difficult or grating to the ear. That we learn them by the ear more than by the eye, is also shown by the difficulty we should find in recollecting an arbitrary combination of the same number of consonants, which would of course not admit of being pronounced as a word. We should in this case be driven to the expedient of interposing vowels, in order, as it were, to give them breath, and transfer the task from the eye to the ear; although it is evident that the addition of these vowels would increase the number of things to be remembered. All this will appear in a still stronger light, if we impose upon ourselves the task of learning by heart a set of characters equally familiar to us with the letters of the alphabet, but which do not afford a similar resource, at least not in so direct a manner. Let us, for instance, open a book of logarithmic tables, and try to learn a page or two by heart; we shall soon be sufficiently convinced of the arduous nature of the undertaking. Just so it is with the deaf and dumb. The printed letters of a book are to them so many separate ciphers, distinguished indeed from each other by their form, but having no perceptible medium of association, and of which the apparently endless variety of combination, like those of the figures of logarithms, are sufficient to perplex the most sagacious observer, and baffle the most retentive memory. ∙ To them all distinctions into vowels and consonants, into long and short syllables, all the varieties of metre, and all the harmony of verse, have no existence; these belong to creatures of another world, from which they are doomed to an eternal exclusion. No wonder, therefore, that their own untutored efforts should be utterly inadequate to give them the remotest conception of the use of language; and that the records of history have never exhibited to us a single instance of a person deaf from birth, or even having lost the hearing at an early age, who has taught himself to read or write a single word.

But the deaf and dumb child lies under the further disadvantage of possessing a smaller stock of ideas to set out with than other children. His faculties of observation have been less called into play, and the sphere of their operation has been more limited. The task of the instructor is, in this instance, analogous to that of the agriculturist who redeems a savage land, which the plough has never loosened, and where the soil has not been fertilized by previous vegetation. He has to sow the first seed it has yet received, and must watch with anxious solicitude every stage of its growth and fructification. Deprived at the outset of the ordinary resources of communication, what means are we to employ in order to awaken the attention of our pupil, and how can we make him sensible of the object of our endeavours, and animate him to those exertions which are necessary to their success, and which habitual indolence have probably rendered difficult and irksome?

But resources yet remain; and art has triumphed over all these obstacles, numerous*and formidable as they may appear. The deaf and dumb child has in truth still the means of acquiring a large stock of ideas of a certain class, and has a certain range of expedients by which he communicates with others. When we read the exaggerated statement which some authors have given of the deficiencies of such children, we can easily discern the influence of preconceived theory in distorting obvious facts, and the false colouring which they have derived from a vivid imagination. “What,” says Sicard, “is the condition of the deaf and dumb child considered in himself, and before any species of education has begun to establish connections between him and the rest of his species, or with that great family to which he appertains by his external form? He is a perfect nullity in that community; a living automaton; a statue like the one imagined by Bonnet, and after him by Condillac; a statue in which every sense in succession has yet to be unlocked, and directed to its proper objects, in order to supply the want of that one of which he is so unhappily deprived. His actions being limited to mere physical movements, prior to the removal of the envelope which cramped and confined his reason, he is not endued even with that instinct which is allotted to the brutes, and which is their only guide. He is therefore to be considered merely as a kind of walking machine, of which the organization, with regard to the effects that result from it, is inferior to that of animals. To denominate him a savage, is to assign him a higher rank than appertains to his miserable condition; for he is not even on a level with the savage, either in moral relations, which, to a certain extent, exist among all savages, or in means of intercourse with his fellow-creatures. With regard to the latter, indeed, he is much inferior to the savage, who can always communicate with others by language, however rude and inarticulate may be the sounds which compose it. These sounds are the means of fixing ideas in the mind, and afford the medium of comparison among those ideas, whence result combinations, judgments, and reasonings. Being destitute of these means of communication, and of these signs which fix and determine the power of recollection, all the impressions he receives are transitory, and the images fugitive; nothing remains in his mind to which he can refcr what is passing within him, and which can serve as a term of comparison. His ideas can only consist of such as result from direct impressions; none can be derived from reflection. So that, being unable ever to combine two such ideas together, for want of the signs by which they could be laid hold of and retained, it is impossible for him to arrive at even the simplest process of reasoning.” Condillac had already advanced the same doctrine, and had even gone the length of asserting that the deaf and dumb from birth could have no power of memory, because they were deprived of those artificial signs by which alone the associations could be fixed and rendered permanent. He compares their minds to those of brute animals, and even believes that they are equally incapable of carrying on any train of reasoning.

But the results of observation arc quite at variance with these conclusions, derived from speculative reasoning. The real education of the deaf and dumb child, like that of him who is possessed of hearing, may be said to commence from the period of its birth. Dr Watson judiciously observes, that “persons born deaf are in fact neither depressed below nor raised above the general scale of human nature, as regards their dispositions and powers either of body or mind. They are human beings, individually differing from their kind only by an accidental defect. This defect is not such as to disturb the course of nature in the first stage of the growth of the mental faculties, though, while it operates as a bar to the acquisition of language, it retards and almost precludes their expansion after this stage.” The whole of the visible and tangible [7:7:648] worlds are still open to them; hearing at so early an age can give them comparatively but little assistance in acquiring the knowledge of external objects; and it is always some time before the discovery is made of their being insensible to sound. Still their sensibility expands; their affections are called into play; their passions are excited nearly as in other children, though the means may be somewhat different. The visible marks of attention the child receives from those around, their caresses, their smiles, and their frowns, all make their corresponding impressions on its tender mind; it lives in the looks of those on whom it is dependent. Its whole attention being turned to the study of these visible appearances, the only language which it has to learn, its proficiency in the interpretation of these appearances is comparatively greater. The gestures of its parent it acknowledges by responsive gesticulations, and expresses in this primitive language of nature all its feelings, conditions, and passions. Far from being the living automaton delineated in the closet by theorising metaphysicians, it differs but little in early infancy from other children; and has even some advantages in the superior quickness of the eye, in the more expressive play of the features, and in the more ready apprehension of the slightest look or gesture it observes in others. It is remarkable, indeed, that the defect of hearing is generally not discovered till at an advanced period. Though the child remains mute, the real cause is not readily acknowledged. Doubts and fears may indeed be entertained; but hope is kept alive by parental fondness, and inspires a thousand excuses. A year or two thus slips away, when it is gradually remarked, that when a want is to be made known, or an approval or aversion expressed, it is done by a motion of the hand, head, or countenance; and in place of the loquacious and engaging prattle usual at his age, there is silence, or only inarticulate sounds. At times he is pensive and cheerless, no doubt feeling the disappointments necessarily resulting from incapacity to make himself fully understood by those about him, who, possessing a more perfect medium of mental intercourse, are too apt to be inattentive to the signs and gestures of the little mute. Yet his mind, instead of presenting a total blank, is in fact furnished with a multitude of ideas, arranged indeed after his own peculiar method, but still affording an extensive foundation for future attainments. Already has he established a species of intercourse with those around him, by the language of pantomime, derived from nature, and improved by his own ingenuity. Already does this simple language comprehend the use of nouns, pronouns, verbs, and above all interjections, though he is totally unconscious of the nature or existence of these grammatical distinctions; just as he has moved and jumped, without being aware that he was effecting these actions by means of muscles and tendons, ligaments and bones.

It is therefore in the study of this species of pantomime, which is the native language of the deaf and dumb, that the first duty of the instructor consists. He must, in truth, begin by taking lessons from lχi s pupil, and condescend to learn his language, in order to qualify himself for teaching him his own. He must study to familiarize himself with this language, by frequent intercourse with his pupil, and engage his affections by repeated offices of kindness. No better preparation can be devised for the exercises which are to follow, than this intercourse of the heart and interchange of confidence. Curiosity, a principle of action in which deaf and dumb children are generally by no means deficient, and which the judicious tutor will be careful to stimulate and sustain, will give him a strong hold in directing their exertions. On the other hand, they are very apt to be discouraged by the consciousness of their own inferiority, and are thrown into despondency at the idea of the immense interval which they feel must ever separate them from others. This feeling it is our duty to soften as much as possible, by removing the occasions which may give rise to it, and diverting the attention to more cheering views of their own powers, and to the prospect of their advancement. Perhaps it is even better, in many cases, that the truth should be in some degree disguised, and that they should be left, at least at first, in ignorance of the extent of the disadvantages they labour under. For this reason, we should not be disposed to adopt the plan practised by the Abbé de l’Epée, in order to explain to them the nature and uses of that sense which they do not inherit. The expedient which be hit upon for this purpose may be briefly described. Having collected his pupils round a large tub full of water, which was allowed to subside till perfectly at rest, he let fall into it perpendicularly an ivory ball, directing their attention to the undulations of the water, which struck against the sides of the vessel. He then moved a hand-screen backwards and forwards rapidly in a room, so as to put in motion-feathers, or other light bodies, floating in the air at some distance; and explained to them that the room is as full of air as the tub was of water, and that the air set in motion strikes the sides of the room, as the waves did those of the tub. He next took up a repeating watch, and applying the fingers of his pupils to the hammer, made them feel the rapid succession of strokes which it produced. He now informed them that the ear of every person contains an apparatus of the same kind; and that the air, in its passage from the body which has set it in motion, enters the ear and sets in motion the little hammer which is placed there. He gave his pupils to understand, that the reason why they do not hear is because they have no such hammer in their ears, or because its motions are impeded, or the part on which it strikes is void of sensibility. “Whenever,” says he, “I have given this explanation, I have observed it to make very different impressions on different individuals. Some expressed great delight at having acquired the knowledge of what hearing consisted in. Others became affected with profound melancholy on learning that either they were destitute of so useful an instrument as this hammer, or that the one they had could not be used. The first two girls to whom this information had been imparted could not conceal their ill-humour on finding that the house-cat and the canary bird had each their little hammers in the ears, while they themselves had none.”

The first and most important lesson to be taught to our pupil is, that written words have a meaning, and suggest to all persons of education the same definite idea. In teaching him the meaning of words, we should follow as much as possible the natural order in which they are generally acquired by those who have the sense of hearing. The first and simplest kind of knowledge is that which relates to the material w 0rld. We must commence, therefore, by instructing him in the names of external objects, beginning with those that are best known to him, and oftenest recur to his view. The name of an object of this kind, such as hat, may be written in large letters on a board; and the attention of the child being directed alternately to the name and to the object itself, which is to be presented to it at the same time, he will gradually be brought to understand that a certain relation exists between them, though what that relation is, we are not to expect that he will as yet be able to comprehend. The idea of this relation w ill become more distinct when a similar process has been followed with regard to several other names. Occasionally we may find it difficult to convey by this means the least notion that the one is the [7:7:649]sign of the other; the child being unable to conceive how what appears to him to be an irregular collection of crooked lines, bearing no resemblance in form to the object pointed out in connection with them, can serve as its type. Experience, derived from the observations we may lead him to make, will, however, gradually teach him this lesson. Sufficient has been done to excite his attention; let us now, in his presence, call upon other children, more advanced in their education, to direct their eye upon these mysterious characters, of which the immediate consequence will be their pointing to the object. The effect produced by the word will be observed by the attentive pupil, and will make its due impression. Let three or four words be written at the same time on the board, and the corresponding objects placed on an adjoining table. On each of these words being pointed out to the advanced child, he will bring the proper article from the table. We shall now have an opportunity of ascertaining how far the proceeding has been understood by the younger pupil, by repeating the experiment on himself. If he lay hold of the proper object, it is clear that our meaning has been understood, and that the first step, the most difficult of all, has been accomplished.

Care must all this while be taken that our pupil impute not to any circumstance or quality in the words shown to him, different from that of their form, the significancy which he finds them to possess. We must show him, for instance, that their particular situation on the board is not the circumstance from which it derives its meaning. This we can do by changing the order of the words, or by writing them on paper, and in different modes, preserving always the same precise form of the letters. It is evident that in these preliminary exercises we should give the preference to very short words, such as box, pen, shoe, cap, ring, and the like. The association between the name and the object should be strengthened by frequent repetition, and also by occasionally varying the mode of impressing it. The process we have just described, for instance, should sometimes be reversed, the child being required to point out the name when the object is shown to him. In fact, we should neglect no means of assuring ourselves that we are fully and perfectly understood, and that the associations we are labouring to establish are firmly rivetted in his mind.

We are, however, by no means to trust to a single associating principle in establishing these essential connections; we should multiply as much as possible the ligaments which compose the union. The child, while learning written words, should be made to copy them himself, so that, by dwelling upon their forms sufficiently, they may make an indelible impression on his mind. We should from time to time show him the objects, and require him to write their names himself. In these preliminary lessons it is obvious that much assistance may occasionally be derived from drawings of the objects we may wish to point out, but which may not be immediately at hand. The Abbé Sicard has availed himself, with much ingenuity, of this mode of denoting objects as an introduction to the use of written words.

He begins, for instance, by tracing the outline of a familiar object, such as a key, on a black board, with a chalk pencil; and placing the object itself before the eye of his pupil, he will readily understand the resemblance of the design with what it is meant to represent. He does the same with other objects, and exercises his pupil in pointing out the objects denoted by each drawing, which of course is to him a mere amusement. He next writes the name of each object within the outline of the figure on the board, and, after effacing the outlines, so that nothing but the words remain, signifies to the pupil that he is still to consider what he now sees as the representation of the drawing, that is, of the object denoted by the drawing. These methods, which are susceptible of variation according to circumstances and the ingenuity of the instructor, are to be understood as applicable only to the early lessons; for, after the pupil has once thoroughly understood the value and use of words, all the drawings on the slate should be laid aside, and the more useful medium of written language should be exclusively resorted to.

With regard to the choice of objects, of which the names may compose the first lessons, we should select those to begin with which are of immediate interest and utility, such as the different parts of the body, articles of dress and of furniture, and common instruments in most frequent use. We should see that every thing that is learned is learned perfectly, by frequently going over the same lesson, so that they may all be deeply engraven on the memory. We must recollect that repetition is the principal means of impressing the memory; and this is the more necessary in the case of the deaf and dumb, as a principal barrier to their acquisition of language consists in their having few means of reviewing words and phrases but by direct instruction or prescribed study.

But our pupil is not always confined to his apartment; and he can hardly take a step beyond its threshold without meeting with something that he knows very well by sight, and of which it will be useful to him to know the name. We cannot remove it into our school-room, to teach him its name there; nor can we very conveniently carry our writing tablets with us on all occasions. Engravings of such objects will, however, readily supply us with the means of extending our instructions to them also, and, by furnishing us in small compass with the lines that bound their visible appearances in perspective order, will enable us to preserve the remembrance of them, and to keep them in readiness for every purpose. Association will at once recall to our minds the properties that manifest themselves to our other senses, and enable us to read and interpret this picture-language as we would any other collection of artificial signs. A vocabulary, on the plan originally recommended by Locke, consisting of “those words standing for things which are known and distinguished by their outward shapes, accompanied by draughts and prints,” will therefore be of great utility, and shorten the labour both of the teacher and learner. For this express purpose, Dr Watson has had a set of plates engraved, containing delineations of objects most generally met with and commonly known. These engravings arc annexed to his book of Instruction of the Deaf and Dumb, and represent above six hundred different objects, being comprised in eighty octavo pages. They are accompanied by a printed vocabulary, consisting of the names of all the objects thus represented, as also of most of the words explained in the earlier lessons, before the engravings are had recourse to. The first time of going through this vocabulary, the heads or generic names under which the objects are classed are not regarded; but, in a subsequent revision, these are particularly attended to, and their relations to the subordinate specific names are fully explained.

The analysis of words into letters is the next step of importance in the early education of the deaf and dumb. It should follow almost immediately upon their complete comprehension of the use of words. They should be shown, as soon as they have learned a small stock of words, that these words are formed from a certain limited number of characters, or letters of the alphabet. Various modes of familiarizing them with this knowledge may be adopted. One of the most simple is, to have each letter written on a small piece of card, of which a number, disposed in parcels, and arranged in proper order, may be [7:7:650]contained in a box. After making the child observe a written word that he already knows, we should point out to him the first letter, and take out the same letter from the box; then indicating to him the next, we may conduct his hand to the proper letter in the box, and continue this operation till the word is completed. He will soon reject our assistance, and seek the letters for himself. By practising a little in this way, he will very soon have learned the alphabet, and will understand its use, and will be able, of his own accord, to compose known words with the letters thus furnished him. He must all this time be diligently exercised in writing, so as to acquire facility in forming and joining letters in a running hand. He must be taught the various forms of letters, according to the different ways in which they are used, and the purposes to which they are applied. The capital, small, and double letters, both in the Roman and Italic types, must be perfectly learned, by frequent and daily practice. Writing being an operation to which deafness offers no impediment, nothing particular need be said respecting the method of teaching it. It is proper, however, to remark, that it cannot be taught too early, as, agreeably to the observations formerly made, every variation in the mode of exercising the attention to any set of objects is of material assistance to the memory of those objects.

It will also be advantageous to instruct our pupil, as soon as he is familiar with the use of letters, in another mode of visible communication, very easy to be acquired, namely, by the manual alphabet, as it is called; that is, the expression of letters by different positions of the fingers. This art is valuable on many accounts; in the first place, as being a very quick and ready means of communication; and, secondly, as it is a method very generally understood and practised by other persons besides the deaf and dumb. This art of talking with the fingers is commonly learned at school, and is easily retained, or recovered if lost. It furnishes a substitute for the pencil, or pen and ink, when the materials for writing are not at hand. The deaf and dumb, when properly instructed, can converse with the utmost rapidity by this method; habit enables them to follow with the eye motions which, to others, would be too rapid for observation; they readily catch at the meaning of a word or question before it is half spelt.

In the common methods of indicating letters by the fingers, both hands are employed. Some persons have thought it would be attended with advantages, in point of convenience, to contrive a manual alphabet that would require the use of one hand only. Periere claims the invention of this method, to which he has given the pompous name of Dactylology, a term which the Abbé de ī’Epée proposes to change to Dactylololy. It appears, from a book published near two centuries ago, in which are engravings of different positions of the fingers of one hand, representing the several letters, that this method was well known at that time in Spain. Sicard, in his Cours d’Instruction d’un Sourd-Muet de Naissance, has given a plate of the manual alphabet employed in this institution. It would appear, however, to be a considerable objection to this single-handed alphabet, that it is not in general use among other persons, so that it cannot assist the deaf and dumb beyond the precincts of his school. These alphabets are, however, so easily acquired, that it must always be worth while for him to learn them both.

There is yet another mode of visible intercourse, still quicker in its operation than the former, and which it may occasionally be very convenient to employ. It is that of indicating the forms of the letters by the point of the finger moved in the air, constituting, as it were, an aerial writing, which, by a little use, is quickly followed with the eye. It must be recollected that, to a spectator who stands before us, the writing would appear reversed if traced in the ordinary manner. This must be remedied by the letters being written in a reversed form, a method which may be readily acquired by practising before a looking-glass. If the person to whom we addressed ourselves were behind us, there would evidently be no necessity for this artifice, since the motions of the fingers would be seen by him in the same aspect as by ourselves. By means somewhat similar, namely, by tracing the letters with the finger on any part of the body, such as the hand or the back of the person with whom we wish to communicate, we may easily converse with him in the dark, a situation in which the deaf are peculiarly helpless.

Having proceeded thus far in our instructions, having taught our pupil the use and conventional meaning of words, having familiarized him by the various modes of writing and reading, with their visible appearances, and put him in possession of a copious vocabulary of the names of objects of common occurrence, we may be considered as having achieved tþe most difficult, and, certainly, the most important part of our task. There yet, however, remains much to be done. Substantives are all that he at present knows; but the expression of thought and passion, the affirmation or denial of the relations between ideas, demand words of another class, or, as they are called, other parts of speech. The most natural order of proceeding would seem to be that of teaching him next the use of adjectives, and the relation in which they stand to substantives. A few examples of adjectives, denoting sensible properties of objects, such as those of colour and form, connected with substances that possess these properties, will very soon give them this knowledge, and enable them to apply these adjectives properly. The meaning of pronouns and of verbs are next to be pointed out, with their various modifications of person, number, and tense. All this should, in our opinion, be taught wholly by examples; for which purpose, short and simple sentences should be selected, of which the meaning may readily be conveyed by the assistance of pantomimic language, and will soon be collected by the pupil himself, whose sagacity in observing the occasions on which such expressions are employed will lead him to the discovery by a natural process of induction.

A method proceeding on a diametrically opposite principle has been adopted by teachers of the first eminence on the Continent, who insist upon the necessity of teaching the deaf and dumb all the parts of speech, one after another, with critical and philological precision, and in exact conformity with the order of the analysis of the different classes of words. They appear to forget that, in the case of ordinary children, nature pursues a very different course. These learn their native language in a short period, without all the technical apparatus of the pedagogue. The study of the rules of grammar is more especially useful in teaching a new language to a person who is already conversant with his own. The business of the teacher is here, indeed, reduced chiefly to that of translation; whilst the substance is the same, it is the form only that is varied. Dr Watson is decidedly of opinion that, naming perceptions as they arise, without regard to metaphysical or grammatical distinctions, is the only sure and direct road to the acquisition of a language by those who have only the natural language of gesture and feature to assist them in acquiring it. For let it be strictly borne in mind, that the analogy between the natural deaf and those who hear, in learning a language, holds only with respect to the first language, or the mother tongue. There can be very little in common with them, in the learning of a foreign or dead language, by the latter; for in this case the [7:7:651] mother tongue always serves to explain the terms of the language to be acquired, an advantage of which the deaf and dumb are totally deprived; and yet, if we compare the progress they make with that generally made by young scholars in what are termed the learned languages, in the same length of time, we shall, for the most part, have reason to draw a conclusion in favour of the plan of following nature in teaching a language. It should not, however, be forgotten, that, fairly to estimate the attainments of a deaf scholar, he should rather be compared, though subject to great disadvantages, to a child of an age equal to the length of time he has been under tuition, than to a youth having all his faculties who has been long at school.

Whilst proceeding through the vocabulary of substantives, we are recommended by the same judicious author, in order to give variety to the lessons, to teach the pronouns, personal and demonstrative, &c. at suitable intervals, always making the learner write the words with his own hand. Then the verbs to be, to have, and the other auxiliaries, are to be learned or varied according to third persons, joined to nominative cases, as, I am, he has, &c. The meaning of all these is learned by application in examples. When he says 1, he points to himself; when he says you, he points to the person teaching him; he, to a third person, &c. Nothing is more obvious to the eye than number as a property of things; we, therefore, easily learn to count one, two, three, &c.

These preliminaries being settled, we proceed to the construction of short sentences, without learning the rules of syntax. Thus, for instance, we may say, this is my pen, that is your pen, that is his pen, these are our pens, &c. I have one body, I have two hands, &c. showing the meaning by pointing out the objects and their relations already perceived by and familiar to the learner, though he could not express them. By way of practice, he is taught to change the substantive, till he can himself give examples, and rightly apply all the words in such sentences, which, in general, he is not a little proud to do. Examples might be multiplied indefinitely in the application of each of the parts of speech, but enough have already been shown in illustration of the general principle of the process. In all cases, examples should be furnished to the learner till the effect intended be produced on his mind; that is, till it appears by examples given by himself that he rightly applies the word intended to be illustrated. These exercises should be introduced as reliefs to the less amusing, but, in the first instance, more important business of learning the vocabulary.

The system of instruction we have already alluded to, as opposed to the simple process now detailed, is founded upon the employment of a peculiar medium of communication between the teacher and his pupils. This medium, totally different and independent of ordinary language, is formed by a set of artificial signs for the expression of ideas, consisting, not of words, but of certain gestures assumed by convention as the representative of those ideas. These signs may, indeed, be considered as being virtually words, though wearing a different form. They in fact perform to the deaf all the functions of words, since every word in the language is represented in this system by its peculiar and appropriate gesture. In instructing the deaf and dumb according to this method, care is taken that, on their learning the meaning of any written word, the particular gesticulation appropriated to it shall be learned in conjunction with the word. The Abbé de l’Epée, the original contriver of this system, which has been adopted and extended by his successor the Abbé Sicard, gives the following account of the circumstances which first turned his attention to the subject, and paved the way to the invention.

Two sisters, both deaf and dumb, resided at Paris in a street opposite to the society entitled Les Peres de la Chrétienne. Father Fanin, one of the associates of that community, had attempted, but in a way not sufficiently methodical, to supply the deficiencies of instruction to which the loss of the faculties of hearing and of speech had subjected them; but he was unfortunately carried off by a premature death before his labour had rewarded him with any degree of success. The two sisters, as well as their mother, were inconsolable for the loss they had suffered, when a fortunate accident introduced to them a person eminently qualified to fill the place of him they mourned for. The Abbé de l’Epée had occasion to call at their house. The mother was out, and while he was waiting her return, he put some questions to the young ladies; but their eyes remained fixed on their work, and they gave no answer. In vain did he renew his questions; they were still silent. Not suspecting that the ears of those whom he was addressing were closed to all earthly sound, he was lost in conjecture at the insensibility they manifested, when the mother arrived, and the mystery was resolved. So strong was the impression produced by this incident, that his thoughts were, from that moment, bent upon devising means of restoring to those unhappy young women the faculties of speech, and the means of intellectual intercourse. After meditating long on the subject, it occurred to him that every language is but an assemblage of signs, in the same manner as a series of drawings is a collection of figures, the representations of a multitude of objects. Gestures are also signs; and we may figure every thing by gestures, as we paint every thing by colours, or express every thing by words. Every object has a form, and every form is capable of being imitated. Actions strike our sight, and we are competent to delineate and describe them accurately by imitative gestures alone. Words are but conventional signs. Why should not gestures serve the very same purposes? Why may there not be framed a language of gestures as there has been a language of words?

Full of these impressions, the abbé was not long without revisiting the family who had inspired him with so much interest; it is easy to imagine the joy his presence gave them. He was eager to try the success of his newly invented imitative art. He began his drawings, his gesticulations, his writings, conceiving he had but to teach a new language; while, in fact, he had first to form minds wholly uncultivated. Severe were the toils and the difficulties, and bitter the disappointments, he had to encounter in these first essays. He showed his pupils merely letters, which he taught them to imitate; but nothing like ideas could in this way ever reach their minds; the act of imitation had been purely mechanical. Even when the objects themselves, denoted by words, were pointed out, still no conception of the relation in which they stood to each other was formed; for written words were not images. It was not enough that the abbé had invented gestures to correspond with every word in the language; the necessary medium of communication was still wanting; he had no fulcrum for his apparatus to rest upon; and he was moving in a world placed beyond the narrow sphere of their conceptions. He was striving to teach a foreign language by a grammar written in that very language, without reflecting that an idiom, the words and the syntax of which are alike unknown, cannot be taught but by the aid of a dialect with which it is capable of being compared. No such comparative grammar exists for those whose ideas are limited to what may be suggested by transient sensations, resulting from instinctive wants. In leading his pupils to write words as signs, he was endeavouring to lead them to what they did not know, by setting[7:7:652] out from what was equally unknown. He succeeded, it is true, in enabling them to transcribe whole pages of the most abstract disquisitions by the intermedium of gestures; but these gestures, which they had mechanically associated with certain characters, conveyed to them no notions of the real signification of those characters; for, as in every language words are but conventional signs, it is clear that, before their meaning could have been agreed upon, there must have existed some prior language mutually understood by the parties making the agreement.

Notwithstanding the radical and glaring defects of De l’Epée’s method, which must have precluded it from ever being of the slightest utility to those who followed it, the ostentatious display of that kind of success he obtained, and which was of a nature particularly calculated to impose upon a superficial observer, excited the astonishment and applause of a host of spectators; and being seconded by the impulse of his religious zeal and beneficent charity, it soon raised him to a high degree of reputation. His fame spread itself all over Europe, and his lectures and exhibitions attracted everywhere crowds of enthusiastic admirers. There were not wanting persons, however, who saw through the delusion. At a public exhibition of the pupils of the Abbé Storck, who were taught according to this method at Vienna, Mr Nicoai, an academician of Berlin, proposed to the abbé to require one of his pupils to describe in writing the action he was about to perform. The challenge being accepted, the academician struck his breast with his hand, upon which the deaf and dumb boy immediately wrote the words, hand, breast. Mr Nicoai withdrew, satisfied with this proof of total failure. It was evident that, notwithstanding all this parade of learning, and their quickness in writing down any question, together with its answer, both had been equally dictated by their master, in the same language of gesture, but without any corresponding ideas, or the exertion of any intellectual faculty, except that of memory. They were utterly incapable of composing a single sentence of their own accord; and it was found, accordingly, that their spontaneous answers to the questions asked them were limited to the monosyllables yes and no, of which it is even doubtful whether they fully understood the meaning. It is more easy to conceive than to describe the disappointment which the parents must have felt at the discovery of the real ignorance of their children after so many years of instruction, and after the brilliant manner in which they acquitted themselves in their public probations. The secret is, indeed, betrayed in some letters of the Abbé de l’Epée, published by Sicard, in a note to the work already referred to, in which he avows that his views of education were limited to the mechanical qualifications necessary to enable his pupils to perform their parts in a public exhibition, namely, that of writing words upon certain gestures being made to them, without the least intelligence of their import, and of course without the power of employing these words, either as instruments of thought, or as vehicles of meaning.

The Abbé Sicard, who had been for some time the assistant, and was afterwards the successor, of De l’Epée, whilst he retained the system of artificial signs contrived by the latter, soon discovered that the intellectual education of his pupils should be the chief object of his efforts, and, in the pursuit of this object, struck out for himself a new path. An opportunity soon occurred for the development of his plan, by his appointment as teacher to a school which had been recently established at Bordeaux, by the Archbishop Μ. Champion de Cicé; and among the first pupils presented to him for admission, was a boy and his sister, belonging to a numerous and indigent family, of whom five were deaf and dumb. They lived in an obscure cottage in a remote part of the country; and the sole occupation of John Massieu, the name of the boy, had been to tend his father’s flock of sheep, amidst heaths and forests; and whatever habits he had contracted were those of a savage life. On being brought to Bordeaux, for the purpose, as he thought, of looking after other flocks, his astonishment and alarm at the new objects he beheld were extreme. His suspicions were awakened by every look directed towards him, and he shrunk from all intercourse with those who sought his confidence. His dull and vacant countenance, his timid and embarrassed air, his frigid and sullen reserve, all denoted a being unsusceptible of education. By judicious management, the prospect brightened; his faculties were developed; his intellectual powers were gradually excited and exercised; his capacity for receiving instruction expanded, and he made rapid strides in the acquisition of every kind of knowledge. He is at present distinguished by his intelligence, acuteness, and general information; and is not only conversant with literature, but expresses himself with facility, clearness, and elegance. Sicard has detailed in his work the several steps of his instruction, as a model of his general method; of which, however, after what has been already said, only a short notice will be sufficient

The object of his first lessons is to teach his pupil the relation between the names of objects and the objects themselves; the analysis of words into the letters of the alphabet; and the particular gesture which he is to attach to each word as its distinctive sign. He then explains the meaning of collective words, as distinguished from those denoting individual objects or parts of objects. Thence he proceeds to general terms, applicable in common to a number of individuals, and to generic names comprehending a number of species; and, lastly, ascends to the most general and abstract words, such as being, thing, object. The qualities which are expressions of the accidents, variations, and modifications of objects, and are denoted by adjectives, are next taught. He endeavours to make his pupil conceive these qualities, in the first place, as inherent in the objects themselves, and next as being capable of being detached, by a mental operation, from such objects, though, in fact, they have no existence but as united with them. We shall here give a specimen of the contrivances he had recourse to in assisting his pupils to understand such abstract conceptions. Taking seven pieces of paper, each white on one side, and coloured on the other with one of the primitive colours, he places them on a table, before a black board, with their white sides uppermost. He then writes the word PAPER on the board, leaving sufficient intervals between the letters for the insertion of other letters. Then turning the sheet painted blue, so that the coloured side is now uppermost, he writes the word blub between the letters of the former word, but in smaller characters, thus, PbAlPuEeR.

The same thing is done successively with regard to the other sheets of paper, inserting the name of its respective colour between the letters of the word PAPER, which is repeated for that purpose. This being finished, the blue sheet is again turned down, so that its white side is presented; upon which the smaller letters, composing the word blue, are effaced, while the other letters, P, A, P, E, R, are allowed to remain. By this process the pupil is taught to consider the quality as part of the object, or as inherent in it. In like manner, he proceeds with other adjectives, such as round, square, and the like, expressing the form of objects; writing them in the intervals of the letters composing the name of the respective objects; effacing them, and substituting others, according as the form of the object is varied.
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In order to lead his pupil to form the abstraction of the quality thus expressed, that is, to the use of the adjective as a separate word ready to be applied to different substantives, he employs the following diagram, the different lines of which he traces before his eyes, in order to point out the steps by which he is to arrive at this abstraction.
[table]

The two words, thus obtained separate, he afterwards unites by a connecting line, thus,

PAPER — BLUE.

The next step, in order to form this into a complete sentence, is to insert the word is, instead of the line; of which line it may accordingly be regarded as the substitute and representation.

PAPER is BLUE.

By thus making his pupils understand the nature of a verb, and afterwards teaching them that the verb can express either an existence or an action, past, present, or future, he leads them to the system of conjugation, and to all the shades of tenses adopted in various languages. The various significations and inflections of pronouns, with the corresponding affections of verbs, in regard to number and person, are conveyed to the minds of the deaf and dumb, by contrivances very analogous to the preceding, and which need not be dwelt upon, after the example already given. They proceed upon the general principle of connecting together by lines the words, denoting the ideas, which are the component parts of other ideas, so as to express their union; and writing in the place where the lines unite, or, in place of the other words in a similar diagram, the name of the compound idea. Another part of Sicard’s system is the employment of a system of ciphers, written on the top of every word or member of a sentence, according to the office it performs in that sentence; by the help of which his pupils are better enabled to analyze it into its essential parts, distinguishing the name of the object which is either acting or receiving an action, the verb and its regimen, direct, indirect, or circumstantial, and thus comprehending and displaying every part of speech. Thus he instructs his pupils in the science of universal grammar, applicable to the primitive expressions of signs, as well as to all spoken and written languages.

Of the system of artificial signs, which is represented by Sicard as the essential groundwork of all this knowledge, and as the principle means of imparting it, there is much room to doubt the practical advantage. To the praise of ingenuity its author has certainly a claim; but it can scarcely be regarded as any approach to a philosophical language, being as much founded in metaphor and distant analogies as any existing language. With speech it cannot bear any comparison in point of quickness, for the modulations of the voice arc capable of being executed with a rapidity far exceeding that of gestures. There is, besides, hardly any mode of fixing the idea of a gesture by some visible type, as there is that of sound by writing, which serves at all times to renew the impression with perfect correctness. Hence the difficulty of forming a vocabulary of gestures, even to those already in possession of the use of written language, of which we must, of course, suppose our pupils ignorant. These gestures, it is pretended, are engrafted on the natural language of pantomime; but this natural language can carry us but a very little way in the expression of thought. Every action, the visible part of which can be imitated by gesture, admits easily of being so expressed; as the action of eating, by lifting the hand to the mouth, followed by the motion of the jaws; and of sleeping, by closing the eyes and reclining the head. The expression of different passions, of approbation or disapprobation, of surprise, of inquiry, &c. may all be signified very intelligibly by modifications of the countenance. It is in this simple manner, observes Dr Watson, that two or more deaf and dumb persons arc enabled to hold instant converse with each other, though brought together for the first time from the most distant parts. Thus far these signs may be termed natural ; but the naturally deaf do not stop here with this language of pantomime. When they are fortunate enough to meet with attentive companions, especially where two or more deaf persons happen to be brought up together, it is astonishing what approaches they will make towards the construction of an artificial language. By an arbitrary sign, fixed by common consent, or accidentally hit upon, they will designate a person or a thing, and only that particular person or thing, by this sign, which is ever after used by them as a proper name. It is remarkable, that, although in the first instances of inventing or applying these sign-names, if they may be so called, they are guided by some prominent, but perhaps by no means permanently distinguishing mark; such as, in the case of a person, a particular article of dress being worn, the first time of becoming acquainted, an accidental wound, though it leave no scar, a peculiarity of manner, and the like; yet, after having fixed upon it, they never vary, notwithstanding the peculiarity that guided their choice should have long ceased to be observable in the person of the individual they have so designated. Nor will they fix upon the same sign for another of their acquaintance, though, at the time of first meeting him, he may have the same mark about him which they had used to specify a former person. This fully proves that they regard the sign merely as a proper name; and they receive it as such from one another, without inquiry as to its origin. Thus, supposing a person, the first time he should be particularly taken notice of by one who is deaf and dumb, had accidentally cut his face, and wore a patch, it is a hundred to one that this would, from henceforward, be his distinguishing mark, unless some one else of the deaf person’s acquaintance had already been so distinguished. The wound might be cured, and the patch removed; but the deaf person would uniformly put the end of his finger to the part of the face where the patch had been worn, when he wanted to point him out. And lest those to whom he might be desirous of afterwards communicating something concerning this person should not comprehend him, he will not fail to introduce him to them by repeatedly pointing to him, and then to the mark by which he means to describe him, till he thinks he has sufficiently engaged their attention. By similar contrivances, places and things, as well as persons, nay, even qualities and circumstances, are distinguished by the deaf, in an astonishing manner. To attempt in words a description of those signs would be endless, because they are various as the fancies and circumstances of their inventors. Yet being grafted on the parent stock of natural and universal signs, they may in some measure be regarded as different dialects of the same language.
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Hence every one who undertakes the arduous task of teaching the deaf and dumb, should sedulously turn his attention to the study of that language termed natural, where it consists of gesture and feature, in order to enable him to comprehend, as far as possible, the signs of his scholars, which at first more or less differ from one another, as they more or less resemble those signs universally intelligible. Of how much importance it is to the teacher to understand these signs, will readily be apprehended, if any one will attempt either to teach or learn a language, without having another common to master and scholar. But never let any thing so chimerical be thought of as an attempt to turn master to the deaf and dumb in the art of forming signs. What should we expect from an European who should undertake to teach his own regular, copious, and polished language to a South Sea Islander, who was henceforward to live among Europeans, and whose scanty vocabulary extended only to a very few words, barely sufficient to enable him to express, in a rude manner, what was required by the uniformity of his condition and the paucity of his thoughts? Should we suspect that the teacher would set about new-modelling, methodizing, and enlarging this rude and imperfect language, as the readiest method of making the islander acquainted with the European tongue, especially when this new-modelled language, after all the pains bestowed in forming and teaching it, could be of no manner of use but to assist the intercourse between these two persons? If this supposition appear ridiculous, how much more fanciful and useless is an attempt to methodize signs for the instruction of the deaf and dumb. Would it not be a more natural and rational mode of procedure for the teacher to begin by watching the objects and occasions to which the scholar applied the words of his barbarous speech, that by knowing these he might gradually substitute the words of the language to be taught, using the former only as an introduction to the latter? It should never be lost sight of, that deaf people are not educated to live always among persons in their own unfortunate situation. Were this the case, indeed, an artificial language of methodized signs might be of important use. But as they are intended to mix with their fellow beings, in social habits and necessary avocations, we have to open a channel to this intercourse; and this cannot be done so effectually by any other means as by teaching them the language of the country where they reside.

To these judicious remarks of Dr Watson may be added the consideration, that our object in educating the deaf and dumb is not so much to make them acute grammarians and subtile metaphysicians, as to render them useful members of society. Experience shows that the more simple and ordinary modes of instruction will effect this latter purpose in less time, and with better success, than the former can be accomplished by the complex and elaborate system we have been considering.

Another most important branch of the education of the deaf and dumb remains to be considered, namely, the teaching them to speak, and to understand what is spoken , by others, by observing the motion of their lips. That any person, without the guidance of the sense of hearing, should be enabled, merely by studying the position and action of the organs of voice, to utter articulate sounds with any tolerable perfection, would at first view appear scarcely credible. Experience however has shown, that the task, though laborious and tedious, is not attended with this extreme difficulty. Even the earliest attempts of those who have cultivated this art appear to have been as completely successful as those of modern instructors. Great patience and perseverance would seem to be the qualities chiefly necessary to ensure success in ordinary cases. When we talk of success, however, it must be stated, that a wide difference must ever remain perceptible between the speech of the deaf and of those who hear. This artificial speech is evidently laborious and constrained, conveying frequently the idea of pain as well as of effort As it cannot be regulated by the ear of the speaker, it is often too loud, and generally monotonous, harsh, and discordant. It is often, from this cause, scarcely intelligible, except to those who are accustomed to its tones. It is only, indeed, to such as are in habits of daily intercourse with them, that it fully answers the purpose for which that gift was bestowed on man, namely, the communication of thought.

It may, indeed, be a matter of some doubt, whether these advantages, limited as they must necessarily be, are a sufficient compensation for the time and labour consumed in their attainment, and which might perhaps be better employed. The decision of this question, as far as it concerns any particular individual, must, however, depend in a great measure on peculiar circumstances, such as his condition in life and future destination. The Abbé Sicard, perhaps from a predilection for the method of artificial signs, renounced the pursuit of this object, as not worth the pains, and as interfering with his general plan. In Great Britain this art has been at all times cultivated with more assiduity and with greater success than on the Continent. The experience of Dr Watson is decidedly in favour of its utility. In support of his opinion he states one argument, which must doubtless be allowed to have considerable weight. The more numerous are the means of association, he justly observes, the more perfect will be the recollection, or, in other terms, the more frequent the recurrence of words, and their corresponding ideas to the mind. Thus, persons who can hear, speak, read, and write, retain a discourse much better, and have far greater facility in expressing themselves, than persons who possess only two of these faculties; that is, illiterate persons, who can hear and speak, but who cannot read nor write. Now as deaf and dumb persons, educated without articulation, can only have two of the means, viz. the third and fourth; that is, the impressions made upon the eye by characters, and the action of the hand in writing; can it be questioned that we render them an essential service by adding the actions of the organs of speech; a very powerful auxiliary, since by it words become, as it were, a part of ourselves, and more immediately affect us? In learning the pronunciation of the letters, a very important operation is going on in the mind of a deaf person; namely, the association, in the memory and understanding, of the figures of written or printed characters, with certain movements or actions of the organs of speech. The very habit of regarding the one as the representative of the other, paves the way for considering combinations of those actions or characters as the signs of things or of ideas; that is, significant words, written or articulate. We who hear consider words chiefly as sounds ; the deaf who have learnt to speak consider them rather as actions proceeding from themselves. And this gives language to thema sort of tangible property, which is of vast importance both as respects its retention in the memory, and as it respects one of its most important uses, the excitation of ideas in their own minds. On this account the time, the labour, and attention, necessary to articulate speech by those who are dumb, through want of hearing, would be well bestowed, even if their speech were not intelligible to others. Deaf persons having learnt to speak are frequently overheard speaking softly to themselves; that is, rehearsing words or sentences, either for the purpose of better remembering them, or of framing such expressions as they think will best convey their ideas.
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The act of speaking is evidently an operation purely mechanical; and the instruments by which it is performed are the lungs, windpipe, and larynx, the tongue, nostrils, lips, and the various parts of the mouth. The lungs supply breath like the bellows to a musical organ; and the shortening or elongation of the cavity of the pharynx and mouth produce the varieties of grave and sharp tones in the voice, though these tones are again modulated by the movements of the parts of the larynx, which are disposed so as to expand or contract the aperture of the glottis. The articulation of syllables, or the formation of the different letters, begins after the breath has been emitted through the larynx, and is accomplished by means of the mere external organs of speech, that is, the mouth, nostrils, tongue, teeth, and lips.

The following is the process employed by Dr Watson in teaching the pronunciation of the vowels. “The first step,” he says, “is to obtain a clear and distinct sound from the throat (in a voice tolerably well pitched, for this is our materia loquelae), as of a in the word wall, &c. To effect this, and to habituate the pupil to associate the sound which he is learning to form with the figure of the letter which is to be its representative, this is distinctly traced upon paper, or any convenient tablet, and he is made to look at it for a minute or two; he then, if of acute intellect, will look up, with some anxiety in his countenance, as if he would ask what he is to do with it. The sound is then slowly and fully pronounced, and the learner made to observe, by his eyes, the position and motion of the external organs of speech, and to feel the as-triction of the muscles of the larynx, by placing his finger upon the throat, carefully making him perceive the difference to be felt there between sound and silence. Having made these observations for a minute or two, he will seldom hesitate to attempt an imitation of what he has been observing; and that, for the most part, successfully. When the contrary is the case, nothing more is necessary than patient and good-natured perseverance; for if he perceive that his failure has excited chagrin or disappQÍnt-ment in his teacher, he will make another effort with great reluctance. The sound once acquired must be practised sufficiently to avoid any danger of losing it; for the greatest care must be taken, all throughout his progress, never to proceed to a new sound till the preceding has become familiar, and unattended with doubt as to the manner of producing it. A contrary practice would lead to endless vexation. A principal requisite is to keep the learner in good humour, and to make him think that he is doing well beyond expectation; nothing is more discouraging than to put him back.” In the same manner he proceeds to the simple sounds of the other vowels, and then to the consonants.

By the powers of the consonants are meant the positions and actions of the several organs employed in their formation, without the addition of any distinct vocal sound. For although frequent mention will be made of sound in the throat, in their formation, it is to be understood as so confined by the position of the organs, as not to partake of any of the sounds represented by the vowels.

By closing the lips, sounding gently in the throat, forcing them asunder by the emission of the breath, and carefully avoiding to let any of it pass through the nose, we have the power of B. After the same manner is formed the power of P, but without sound in the throat. M requires the lips to be closed, the sound is made in the throat, and the breath suffered to escape through the nose.

The power of C, or what is called its hard sound, that is, the sound of K, is formed by raising the back part of the tongue to the roof of the mouth, near the uvula, and forcing it away again rather quickly, by an emission of the breath, without sound in the throat. G has the same formation, with the addition of sound in the throat.

The power of D is produced by placing the tip of the tongue against the two rows of teeth, which are to be quite, or nearly shut, sounding in the throat, emitting the breath in removing the tongue from the teeth, and, at the same time, opening them a little. T has the same formation, only without sound in the throat.

By placing the upper row of teeth upon the under lip, and gently emitting the breath, without sound in the throat, we have the power of F. V has the same formation, with the addition of sound in the throat.

H is a mere emission of breath, with the mouth a little open.

J has the power of D and SH combined.

L is formed by raising the point of the tongue to the roof of the mouth, near the upper teeth, sounding in the throat, and suffering the breath to escape freely on each side of the tongue.

The power of N is formed by raising and pressing the tongue to the palate, with the whole of its upper surface, so that no breath may escape except through the nose; the lips being kept open, and a gentle sound being made in the throat.

For Q, join K and∙AV.

R is variously formed; but the surest and easiest way of teaching its power to a deaf person is by elevating the fore part of the tongue to the palate, and, with the assistance of the breath, causing a vibratory motion of it, accompanied with a gentle sound in the throat.

In forming S, place the tip of the tongue just below the under teeth, raise the sides of it to the palate, leaving a small aperture in the middle, through which the breath is to be forced, without sound in the throat, which will be intercepted by the teeth being shut, and form the hissing sound required. Z requires the same position of the organs, with the addition of sound in the throat.

X is compounded of K and S.

CH is compounded of the powers of T and SH.

SH has a power nearly resembling that of S, and requires a position of the organs something similar, except that the tip of the tongue must be drawn back, instead of touching the gums and teeth; and the current of the breath emitted must be intercepted by the under teeth only in part; the rest must be suffered to escape between the rows of teeth, which must be a little opened for that purpose.

TH requires the tongue to be a little advanced between the two rows of teeth, and the breath emitted between it and the upper row, which must, nevertheless, be nearly in contact with it; this will produce the sound of TH, as heard in the word think. It has another power, requiring precisely the same position of the organs, but with the addition of sound in the throat, heard in the word this, &c.

NG represents a strong nasal sound; to form it the tongue is drawn back and raised to the roof of the mouth, towards the uvula; a sound is made in the throat, and forced through the nose.

It is evident that when the power of a consonant is acquired, it needs only to be combined with the vowels to form syllables; as ba, ab, &c. These the pupil pronounces almost at sight, as he does also bab, and any other combination of a vowel and a consonant or consonants, if well grounded in the foregoing formations of them. From the easiest combinations we proceed to the most complex, and by practice acquire a readiness in pronouncing the longest polysyllables.

Whilst acquiring the faculty of speaking, the deaf and [7:7:656]dumb imperceptibly learn to distinguish by the eye the words spoken by others. “It is truly astonishing,” says Dr Watson, “and would hardly be credited by any one who had not seen it, how readily deaf persons, who have themselves been taught to speak, catch words, and even long sentences, from the mouths of those who address them. Yet, in this sort of conversation, it is indispensable that the speech should be immediately directed to the spectator (we must not call him auditor), who must have an opportunity of observing every motion of the muscles (as far as these can be seen externally) and countenance, in order to make out the discourse. On this account it is impossible for a deaf person to understand the conversation of a mixed company, a discourse from the pulpit, or an harangue to an assembly, where the speaker does not immediately address him.”

After the sketch we have thus given of the principles on which the different departments of the education of the deaf and dumb should be conducted, it only remains for us to consider the best order in which we should proceed with their lessons and studies, and the period within which we may reasonably expect that they are to be completed. In giving directions with this view, we shall still take Dr Watson as our guide.

Schools for the deaf and dumb, in which a great number arc instructed at the same time, afford peculiar advantages to the teacher, and are very favourable to the proficiency of the scholars. By associating with others, who, being equally deprived of hearing, are on a level with regard to the difficulties to be surmounted, they are relieved from the continual sense of inferiority which oppresses and disheartens the deaf child when placed in the midst of those who have the perfect use of all their senses; and the influence of example, and a spirit of emulation, will operate with due force in exciting them to intellectual exertions. Dr Watson finds, by experience, that one deaf person may be employed to teach another with the happiest effect. So much so, that when he happens to be for the moment at a loss to make one of slow apprehension understand a lesson, he turns him over to one of his school-fellows who has learnt it, and never without advantage to both. For it is with the deaf as with every one, that we ourselves learn best by endeavouring to teach others.

The acquisition of the pronunciation of letters, of syllables, and of words, with their correct orthography, contained in the vocabulary already described, together with such additional exercises as will most obviously exemplify the application and meaning of the connecting parts of speech, will be sufficient occupation to the pupil during the first year of his attendance upon the school; and when the capacity is good, great progress is usually made in these particulars during this period. He is then prepared for longer exercises, and for the application of the words he has learnt, in the construction of longer sentences, to which he, of course, requires to be led on by easy and familiar examples. A sort of colloquy, or dialogue, must be entered into with him. The questions at first must be all on the teacher’s part, and the answers must be formed for the learner, in the most obvious words and phrases that will convey his ideas, in strict conformity to which they must constantly be framed. Due attention being paid by learner and teacher, the good effects of this method will presently appear. The latter will soon be agreeably surprised by his scholar changing parts with him, and becoming, in his turn, the interrogator; and that, too, in a way that will show he practically understands analogy.

It will be useful to set aside certain stated periods, as once or twice in a week, for the repetition of words already learnt; taking care to see minutely that correct ideas are annexed to each. When the whole of the words in the select vocabulary, substantives, verbs, and adjectives, have been gone through several times, and the reader can correctly spell, speak, and point them out (if the names of things engraved), or show their signification by his signs (if the names of actions, or qualities, &c.), then he is to enter upon a work as yet altogether new to him. He is to go over his vocabulary again, and to learn a short definition of each word; that is, to tell the meaning of words by words. This employment is prescribed, not because he will better understand the words in his vocabulary by being taught to define them, but because an opportunity is thus afforded of enlarging it, by the introduction of synonymous words, and words that are defined in some way from those we are defining; and these new words enable us to explain others. So that, by this means, and by our colloquial exercises, our vocabulary is daily and almost imperceptibly enlarging. This is strictly analogous to the manner of acquiring a first language by those who hear. The conjugation of verbs is, in the mean time, to be carefully attended to; and one example, at least, through all the moods, tenses, and persons, should now be performed every morning, till the pupil can write any person of any mood or tense required.

By this time, probably about the third year of the learner’s progress, supposing in him the requisite attention and capacity, it will be proper and necessary to begin the reading of printed books, for the sake of profiting by the information they contain. As far as the mere act of reading is concerned, we have no new difficulty to surmount, for all our exercises and lessons have, in fact, been read as well as written by the learner. The difference between printed characters and those used in writing has, of course, not been unobserved. What constitutes the chief impediment to making sense of what is met with in books, is the promiscuous use of words, without regard to our selections. What is to be done when we meet with a word which we have never seen before? Precisely that which is done with all children under similar circumstances; explain it by the substitution of a word of which the meaning is known, if it can be done; if not, pass it over till a favourable opportunity shall occur to show its meaning by an example. If no such opportunity ever occur, then can the meaning of the word be of no great moment to the learner.

In order to discover the progress he has made, and is daily making, and to assist him in the composition of sentences, or the expression of his thoughts in writing, he is now required, every day, to furnish, according to his capacity, a certain number of lines from his own ideas. He is at liberty to choose his subject; he may relate what he has seen in his walk or his play-ground, or he may unfold the stores of his memory relative to more distant places and periods. He may ask questions, and seek for information of any kind. His rude essays at expression are often curious, and require some skill in the language of pantomime to discover their meaning by his own explanations. This being attained, it is put into correct but easy language; he commits it to his memory thus corrected; and goes to work again, “at his leisure hour in the evening,” for the next day, generally profiting considerably by the alterations it was necessary to make in his preceding essay. We have now a new channel of communication opened; and the knowledge of the meaning of words, and their use in the construction of sentences, which we have already acquired, may be carried to almost any given degree of perfection and extension. Frequent conversation and intercourse, by the words of the language he has learnt, is of the very utmost importance to a deaf person, [7:7:657]especially if he should have but little leisure or inclination for reading, as the means of extending his knowledge of language, and of enlarging his conception of things, and as the means of retaining what he has acquired. Every one will readily perceive this, who considers how easily a foreign or dead language is lost for want of reading, writing, or speaking in it.

The asylum for educating the deaf and dumb children of the poor, established in the immediate vicinity of London, by private subscriptions, in the year 1792, was originally under the very able superintendence of Dr Joseph Watson, who has, since his death, been succeeded by his son Mr James Watson. No child is admitted on the charitable foundation under the age of nine years. This age was not fixed upon from any idea that it was the earliest at which regular education could be advantageously begun; but five years being, generally speaking, deemed sufficient to accomplish that course of instruction which was thought most essential to such children, destined to earn their bread by the labour of their hands, fourteen being the earliest age at which they could be apprenticed, it was judged best, for the economical purposes of the institution, not to receive them before the age of nine years. That he may not be misapprehended, Dr Watson afterwards states precisely what he understands by an education most essential to deaf children of the class mentioned. “I deem it essential,” says he, “that they should have such a knowledge of language as to enable them to express their ideas on common occasions; to understand the commands or directions it may be necessary to give them in ordinary cases, &c.; to read with intelligence the precepts, the examples, and the promises, which are contained in the Scriptures, particularly the New Testament; that they should write a good hand, spell correctly the words they use, and understand the principal rules of arithmetic. When I say that these acquirements may be attained in five years, I mean to state that as the shortest time, even where the capacity of the learner is good. Where the mind is intended to be enlarged by a system of general information and science, a proportionably longer time must necessarily be required for its accomplishment.”

An institution of a similar kind was also established at Birmingham, and Mr Thomas Braidwood, who had conducted a private school for the deaf and dumb at Hackney, was originally appointed teacher. Mr Braidwood, however, is now dead, and his successor is Mr du Puget. Though the original design did not go beyond that of a day-school, for the more immediate instruction of such deaf and dumb persons as might be found in Birmingham, yet since, by the zealous exertions of a number of its friends, the charity attracted a more general attention, a liberal subscription was raised for providing a building fitted for the reception of children from distant places. This building was completed and first opened in January 1815, and is sufficient to contain forty children.

In June 1810 a society was instituted in Edinburgh for the education of deaf and dumb children. The first teacher was Mr John Braidwood, a member of the family which has done so much for the instruction of this interesting class of persons. On his removal, a short time afterwards, Mr Robert Kinniburgh was appointed teacher of the school, and this gentleman still continues to discharge the duties of his office with equal ability and success. The number of his pupils at present (1833) is sixty-four. All of them are boarded in the society’s house, where they are taught reading, writing, geography, and arithmetic, and are carefully instructed in the principles of the Christian religion. They are also, in some cases, taught to express their wants and ideas in articulate speech; and all are instructed to communicate their sentiments by written language, which they do with great facility. No child is admitted under nine, nor above fourteen years of age. Five years are required for completing their education. Besides the above-mentioned branches of education, which all the pupils are taught in common, the female pupils arc taught needle-work, and those of an inferior station are qualified by suitable instruction for becoming domestic servants. Those of the boys who remain six years in the institution are taught to be tailors or shoemakers; but those who remain only five years have their attention directed solely to education. Since this institution commenced its labours, 170 males and 119 females, in all 289, have left school more or less instructed, and, by having their rational and moral powers awakened, qualified to become useful members of society.

The system of tuition followed in the Edinburgh school is nearly the same as that of the London institution. Mr Kinniburgh considers the British system of education for the deaf and dumb as preferable to that practised in the continental schools, inasmuch as it is less metaphysical, and calculated to produce more speedy results.

The pupils occasionally undergo public examinations, and never fail to gratify and astonish crowded audiences, particularly by their remarkable promptitude in defining abstract terms. The following, on the word Music, may serve as a specimen: “Music, the language of sentiment and the breath of the passions; a harmonious and sweet sound, such as the sound of a piano-forte, violin, or bagpipe. Language, a medium of conversation between one man and another: it is either artificial or natural. Natural, not acquired, not taught, not learned. Artificial, cultivated by art, not natural. Sentiment, thought, opinion, the judgment of the mind. Breath, life, moving air. Passions, such as extreme love, anger, zeal. Harmonious, concordant or agreeing. Sweet, delicate, luscious, pleasing to the ear or taste. Sound, a noise; I cannot hear what is called sound. Piano-forte, a large curious musical instrument used by ladies. Bagpipe, an instrument consisting of a leathern bag and pipes used by Highlanders.” At these examinations, too, they exhibit their attainments in geography and arithmetic, and display a minute acquaintance with the facts and doctrines of the Christian religion; and the specimens of composition which are produced not only manifest much good feeling and accuracy, but sufficiently controvert the assertion, that none of the deaf and dumb can ever be taught to write grammatically. The public are permitted to visit the school every Tuesday from twelve to one o’clock, for the purpose of examining the various classes.

The institution was established and is wholly supported by private subscription, and by the aids contributed by auxiliary societies in some of the other towns in Scotland. Its expense for one year, ending 26th March 1833, was about L.1100, the average cost for each pupil being somewhat under twenty pounds per annum; which sum includes board, education, stationery and books, servants’ wages, repairs, and in some cases clothing, besides various other incidental expenses.

Although the institution has been liberally patronized by the public, yet its income has always been insufficient to meet its expenditure. In consequence of this the directors have been generally under the painful necessity of preferring those applicants who could afford to pay a part of the expense of their own maintenance during the period allotted for their education. However, in not a few cases where the parents or friends have been found unable to contribute any portion of this expense, it has been wholly defrayed by the institution.

The house is situated in a healthy and convenient spot [7:7:658]in Distillery Park, Henderson Row; arranged in the interior on a plan well adapted for the purposes of such an establishment, and surrounded by two acres of ground, affording sufficient scope for that degree of relaxation which is essential to the health of young people. The building may be said to be all that the Deaf and Dumb Institution of the metropolis of Scotland ought to be; and although there be nothing in its appearance very imposing to the eye of a passing stranger, yet such an institution cannot but be hailed by the intelligent and humane observer as one of the most grateful ornaments of our city; for, as has justly been remarked, it combines in itself the objects of all the most celebrated institutions of the kind, whether at home or abroad.

Several institutions for similar objects have been formed on the Continent. The asylum for the deaf and dumb at Paris, which was under the management of the late Abbé Sicard, has for its object not only to enable the pupils to communicate their ideas and to form their understanding, but also to qualify them to earn their subsistence. On quitting the asylum, they are all capable of following a trade or profession. Their apprenticeship begins on their first entering the institution, and is terminated with their instruction. This apprenticeship takes place under the inspection of ten masters, viz. a printer, an engraver of precious stones, a copperplate engraver, a drawing-master, a turner, a mosaic artist, a tailor, a shoemaker, a cabinetmaker, and a gardener. All these masters reside in the asylum, and receive their board and a salary. The public exercises, which were given once or twice a month, were meant to excite emulation among the pupils, to make the establishment known, to collect observations, to inculcate the Abbé Sicard’s principles of the art of teaching, and to illustrate their success by exhibiting experimental proofs of the intelligence and knowledge of his pupils.

Institutions formed more or less upon the model of that at Paris have been established in Portugal, Spain, Italy, Switzerland, Baden, Wurtemberg, Bavaria, Austria, Prussia, Saxony, Hesse-Cassel, Nassau, Hanover, Brunswick, the Free Towns of Germany, Belgium, Holland, Denmark, Sweden, Russia, Poland, the United States of America, Canada, Mexico and Bengal, to say nothing of those in Great Britain and France. But, in general, no attempt is made to teach the pupils to speak. The following table shows the absolute number of the deaf and dumb in each country, and that of those who receive the benefit of education, compared both with the absolute number and with that of those who remain in private :—
[table]

A Spanish Benedictine monk, of the convent of Sabagun, in Spain, named Pedro de Ponce, who died in 1584, is the first person who is recorded to have instructed the deaf and dumb, and taught them to speak. He has, however, left no work upon the subject; though it is probable that the substance of his method is contained in a book of Bonet, secretary to the constable of Castille, printed at Madrid in 1620, under the title of Arte para ensenar a [7:7:659] hablar los Mudos. The following is a catalogue of the principal works on this subject, or having reference to it, which have since appeared, and which may be consulted for further information.

Philocophos, or the Deaf and Dumb Mans Friend ; by Dr John Bulwer, 1648. Also, by the same author, in 1644, Chirologia, or the Natural Language of the Hand ; and Chironomia, or the Art of Manual Rhétorique.

Dr Wallace’s Grammatica Lingua Anglicana ; and a treatise prefixed to it, De Loquela, ac de sonorum omnium formatione.

A Letter from Dr Wallace to Mr Boyle, in the Philosophical Transactions for July 1670; and another from the same, in the volume for 1698.

Helmet’s Alphabeti vere naturalis Hebraici brevissima Delineatio, Salzburg, 1657.

In the Philosophical Transactions for January 1668, an account is given of a small tract published the preceding year by the same author, entitled Alphabetum Naturae.

Dr Holder’s Elements of Speech, with an Appendix concerning Persons Deaf and Dumb, 1669.

Treatise concerning those that are born Deaf and Dumb. By George Sibscote, 1670.

G. Dalgarno’s Didascalocophus, or the Deaf and Dumb Man’s Tutor, 1680.

C. Amman’s Surdus Loquens, 1692; and Dissertatio de Loquela, 1700.

Defoe’s History of Duncan Campbell, who was born deaf and dumb, but who himself taught the deaf and dumb to understand. London, 1720.

The Mémoires présentés à l’ Academie Royale, 4to, Paris, 1678, contains a valuable memoir of Periere.

Institution des Sourds et Muets, par la voic des Signes Méthodiques; ouvrage qui contient le projet d’une Langue Universelle, par l’ entremise des Signes naturels assujettis a une méthode, Paris, 1776, an anonymous work of the Abbé de l’Epée. A new edition appeared in 1784, much altered, and with the title oĩ-La veritable manière d’instruire les Sourds' et Muets, confirmee par une longue expérience. This last work has been introduced into the Encyclopédie Méthodique des Arts et des Métiers, under the article Muets et Sourds, and it was translated into English anonymously in 1801.

An Essay on the Method of Teaching the Deaf and Dumb to Speak, by Dr William Thornton, is to be found in the third volume of the Transactions of the American Philosophical Society. Philad. 1793.

Cours d’ Instruction dune Sourd-Muet de Naissance, et qui peut être utile a l’ Education de ceux qui entendent et qui parlent. Par Roch-Ambroise Sicard, Paris, 1800. A second edition appeared in 1803.

Mémoire ou Considérations sur les Sourds-Muets de Naissance, et sur les moyens de donner l’ouie et la parole a ceux qui en sont susceptibles. Par U. R. T. le Bouvyer Des-mourtiers. Paris, 1800.

Instruction of the Deaf and Dumb. By Joseph Watson, LL.D. 2 vols. 8vo. Lond. 1809.

Theorie des Signes pour I Instruction des Sourds-Muets. Par R. A. Sicard, 2 tom. 8vo. Paris, 1808.

Recueil des Définitions et Réponses les plus remarquables, de Massieu et Clerc, Sourds-Muets, aux divers questions qui leur ont etc faites, dans les Séances Publiques, de Μ. l’Abbe Sicard, a Londres. Auquel on a joint l’Alphabet Manuel des Sourds-Muets, le Discours d’Ouverture de Μ. l’Abbe Sicard, et une Lettre explicative de sa Méthode. Par M. Laffon de Ladébat. Avec Notes et une Traduction Anglaise, par J. H. Sievrac. London, 1815.

Methoden-Buch zum Unterricht für Taubstumme, von Michael Ritter, Pfarrer zu Kallham in Ober-Oesterreich. Wien, 1828.

Der durch Gesicht und Tonsprache der Menschheit wiedergegebene Taubstumme, von Dr Graser. Bayreuth, 1829.

Gelegenheitliche-Aeussenengen über menschliche Bildung, besonders über die Bildung der Taubstummen, von Franz Hermann Czech. Wien, 1830.

Uebersicht der Taubstummen und der Anstalten fur deren Bildung, in Preussichen Staate. Berlin, 1830.

Diderot, Lettre sur les Sourds-Muets. Troisième Circulaire de l’institut Royal des Sourds-Muets de Paris. Paris, 1832, 8vo.

Diderot alludes to the possibility of a child being born at once deaf and blind, a possibility which has also been anticipated by the Abbé Sicard, in the preliminary discourse to his Cours d’Instruction, where he suggests different methods of instruction that might be attempted in circumstances so apparently hopeless. The first instance in which this deplorable combination of defects is recorded to have occurred in any individual, is mentioned by Dr Watson, in a quotation from the Gentleman s Magazine for November 1808. He also adds another example in the person of James Mitchell, whose history has excited so much interest, and has been narrated by the masterly pen of Air Ĳugald Stewart, in a memoir published in the Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh (vol. vii. p. 70), and also in the appendix to the last volume of his Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind. Mr War-drop, who performed upon him the operation of couching, has also given us some valuable and interesting particulars of his case, in a separate work, entitled History of James Mitchell, a Boy born Blind and Deaf, until an Account of the Operation performed for the Recovery of his Sight. (London, 4to, 1813.) In the eighth volume of the Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, are to be found Additional Communications respecting the Blind and Dea) Boy, James Mitchell, by Dr John Gordon, a gentleman who had paid particular attention to the case of Mitchell, and from whom Mr Stewart acknowledges that he received much of the information contained in his paper. This volume also contains a paper on the Education of James Mitchell, by Dr Dewar; and an additional communication from the same author on this subject. (y.)