or speak. He already began to think them impolite and uncivil, and rose to go out. Under these circumstances, the mother returned, and every thing was explained. The good Abbe sympathised with her on the affliction, and withdrew, full of the thought of taking the place of Father Famin. 'The first conception of a great man is usually a fruitful germ. Well acquainted with the French grammar, he knew that every language was a collection of signs, as a series of drawings is a collection of figures, the representation of a multitude of objects, and that the Deaf and Dumb can describe every thing by gestures, as you paint every thing with colours, or express every thing by words; he knew that every object had a form, that every form was capable of being imitated, that actions struck your sight, and that you were able to describe them by imitative gestures; he knew that words were conventional signs, and that gestures might be the same, and that there could therefore be a languge formed of gestures, as there was a language of words. We can state as a probable fact, that there was a time in which man had only gestures to express the emotions and affections of his soul. He loved, wished, hoped, imagined, and reflected; and the words to express those operations still failed him. He could express the actions relative to his organs; but the dictionary of acts, purely spiritual, was not begun as yet. 6 Full of these fundamental ideas, the Abbe de L'Epee was not long without visiting the unfortunate family again; and with what pleasure was he not received! He reflected, he imitated, he delineated, he wrote, believing he had but a language to teach, while in fact he had two minds to cultivate! How painful, how difficult were the first essays of the inventor! Deprived of all assistance, in a career full of thorns and obstacles, he was a little embarrassed, but was not discouraged. He armed himself with patience and succeeded, in time, to restore his pupils to Society and Religion. 'Many years after, and before his method could have attained the highest degree of perfection of which it was susceptible, death came and removed that excellent father from his grateful children. Affliction was in all hearts. Fortunately the Abbe Sicard, who was chosen for his successor, caused their tears to cease. He was a man of profound knowledge and of a mind very enterprising. Every invention or discovery, however laudable and ingenious it may be, is never quite right in its beginning. Time only makes it perfect. The clothes, shoes, hats, watches, houses, and every thing of our ancestors, were not as elegant and refined as those of the present century. In like manner was the method of the Abbe de L'Epee. Mr. Sicard reviewed it and made perfect what had been left to be devised, and had the good fortune of going beyond all the disciples of his predecessor. His present pupils are now worthy of him, and I do not believe them any longer unhappy.' We will venture also to make a short extract from the article, before referred to in the Cyclopædia, to illustrate de L'Epee's system. 'The Abbe begins early with rules and little phrases, and not, as is usual, with the declension of nouns and pronouns, because it is more amusing to the pupils, and furnishes better means of developing their faculties. The first or second day he guides their hands, or writes for them, the present tense of the indicative of the verb to carry. I 'Several deaf and dumb persons being round a table,' he says, I place my new scholar on my right hand; I put the fore-finger of my left hand on the word I, and explain it by signs, in this manner; showing myself with the fore-finger of my right, I give two or three gentle taps on my breast. then lay my left fore-finger on the word carry, and taking up a large quarto volume, I carry it under my arm, on my shoulder, on my head, and on my back, walking all the while with the mien of a person bearing a load. None of these motions escape his observation. 'I return to the table; and in order to explain the second person, I lay my fore-finger on the word thou, and conveying my right hand to my pupil's breast, I give him a few gentle taps, making him notice that I look at him, and that he is likewise to look at me. I next lay my finger on the word carrriest, the second person, and having delivered him the quarto volume, I make signs for him to perform what he has just seen me perform; he laughs, takes the volume, and executes his commission very well.' His ability to explain any metaphysical idea, however complex, or abstruse, is thus demonstrated in his own words. 'There is perhaps no word more difficult to explain by signs than this, I believe. I effect the explanation of it in the following manner: having written upon the table" I believe." I draw four lines in different directions, thus: I believe I say yes with the mind: I think yes. I do not see with my eyes. Which signifies, my mind consents, my heart adheres, my mouth professes, but I do not see with my eyes. I then take up what is written upon these four lines, and carry it to the word I believe, to make it understood that the whole is then comprised. 'If, after this explication, I have occasion to dictate the word, I believe, by methodical signs, I first make the sign for the singular of the personal pronoun, as I have shown in its place: I next put my right fore-finger to my forehead, the concave part of it being deemed the seat of the mind, that is, the faculty of thinking, and I make the sign for yes: after that, I make the same sign for yes, putting my finger to that part which is commonly considered as the seat of the heart, in the mental economy, that is, our faculty of loving; I proceed to make the same sign for yes upon my mouth, moving my lips: lastly, I put my hand upon my eyes, and, making the sign for no, show I do not see. There only remains the sign for the present to be made, and then I write down, I believe; but when written it is better understood by my pupils, than by the generality of those who hear. It is perhaps superfluous to repeat, that all these signs are executed in the twinkling of an eye.' For a more particular account of the course pursued, see the works referred to, and the admirable address of Mr. Clerc, which we think will be found to demonstrate something more than a 'philosophical curiosity.' The term might perhaps be applied, still, with considerable propriety, to that part of their education which consists in teaching them to speak; an attempt, which, for the best reasons, has not been made at Hartford. The better opinion certainly is, that this is a 'comparatively useless branch,' of the education of the deaf and dumb; as such it has been entirely abandoned by the Abbe Sicard, although it appears to have received considerable attention from his predecessor, and has been carried to some degree of perfection at Edinburgh and London. It is attended however with very great labour and waste of time, and as Mr. Clerc observes, this artificial speech, not being susceptible of complete improvement, nor of modification and regulation, by the sense of hearing, is almost always very painful, harsh and discordant.' Nevertheless, he pays a just compliment to the attainments of Mr. Braidwood's and Dr. Watson's pupils, in this particular, whom he visited in company with the Abbe Sicard. The reasons for neglecting it altogether in the American Asylum, are assigned, in the last annual report of the directors, and appear to us abun dantly sufficient. The situation of the uneducated deaf and dumb, in whatever point of view it is regarded, calls loudly for commiseration. Whether they have any idea of God and a future state, is problematical. One of Mr. Clerc's answers relative to his situation before he was instructed, is to this effect I had a mind and did not think, I had a heart and could not feel.' We have ourselves had occasion to observe their peculiar emotions upon the decease of a friend. They seem to regard death as an act of arbitrary cruelty; they look upon the lifeless clay with a cold and despairing horror-there is no reference to a governing providence-no idea of a continued existence of the spirit-no glimpse of a future resurrection -no hope of again meeting in a better world. All other sorrow, upon such occasions, is swallowed up in sympathy with these unhappy objects. The grave to them is the lone abode of misery. No tear assuages their grief-no sigh relieves their anguish-the full weight of the curse of sin seems to be concentered upon their souls. Independent of this first and most important consideration, they are necessarily deprived of a great part of the enjoy. ments of social intercourse, upon which they are made peculiarly dependent for their limited happiness, and often become a burden to themselves, to their friends, and to society. The expression of their speaking eyes, however, upon every little attention, their unequivocal gratitude for kindness, their rapidity of comprehension, and their active ingenuity, indicate the existence of mind and heart, and seldom fail to excite a lively interest in all their acquaintance. To develop and call into action these powers, to teach their minds to think, their hearts to feel, and their souls to pray; to bring them into the pale of society from which misfortune had excluded them, and to prepare them to inherit a better world hereafter, is the object of their instruction. The result shows that they are capable, not only of becoming useful and happy members of society, but of grasping the most sublime and intricate truths. All scepticism upon this subject will be put to rest, by a mere perusal of Mr. Clerc's address. The advances made by the pupils at Hartford, as appears by the different reports of the directory, and more particularly by the specimens of their composition accompany |