she ought to weep for it. She replied that she must not weep, but pray, and immediately falling on her knees, remained in that position for more than a quarter of an hour.

In her intellectual instruction the abbé first sought to familiarize her with the names of objects, beginning with those possessing some real or fancied analogy to the object they represented, and proceeding to those which were wholly arbitrary in their character. Having taught her many of these, he next proceeded to verbs, then to prepositions and connectives, and lastly to adjectives and adverbs.

His progress in this mode of instruction had been, at the last accounts, exceedingly gratifying. His interesting pupil manifested, almost dayly, new evidence of intelligence. She had somehow acquired the idea that gratitude was due for favors received, and hence, while she never received a favor without expressing her thanks for it, she insisted on being thanked by others for favors she rendered to them.

She evidently understands that her teachers possess some faculty which she and her blind companions do not. One day her knitting work was out of order, and she was unable to remedy the difficulty. A blind girl, who sat at her side, offered to assist her, but she rejected her offer, touching the eyes of the girl, and then her own, to indicate that they were both blind alike, and consequently needed some one who could see to assist them.

It would be interesting to trace the progress of this interesting girl in the acquisition of knowledge, but since 1848 the Abbé Carton has published nothing relative to her, so far as we are aware.

health, but her lost senses were not restored. In consequence of her misfortunes she was indulged to the utmost, and bid fair to become a wayward and spoiled child.

It was at this juncture that Dr. Howe, who had succeeded in establishing, upon a permanent basis, the Perkins Institute for the Blind, heard of her case, and visited her. As a result of this visit Laura was admitted on the fourth of October, 1837, to the Perkins Institution. Her mother accompanied her thither, and after a few days left her.

For the first two weeks the child appeared lost in the extensive halls, corridors, and rooms of the asylum, but soon she acquired such a familiarity with the locality as to be able to wander about at will through the building. The plan adopted to communicate to her the names of objects was the result of careful thought on the part of Dr. Howe. Articles in common use, such as a fork or spoon, were put into her hands, and their names in raised letters attached to them. She soon learned to distinguish the articles as differing in form, and also the words as having some relation to them. She learned to distinguish these words from each other also when separated from the objects, and, after a time, to apply the name to the article it represented. The faculties of imitation and memory were thus developed, but no others were called into action. Her idea of the connection between the signs or words and the thing signified, if, indeed, she entertained one, was extremely vague and indistinct.

that this was the process by which she could communicate to others the thoughts which passed in her own mind. Dr. Howe says:

It was necessary, however, to have patience. For many weeks she received lessons in the manner above described until she had become familiar with a large number of words. She was then furnished with type, having the letters in relief, and a board which had been pierced with holes for the reception of the type. Objects known to her were then presented, and she composed their names with the type. This exercise afforded her great gratification, and she practiced it constantly. The next step taken was that of teaching her the manual alphabet of the deaf and dumb. She acquired this with great readiness, and used it as rapidly and correctly as the deaf mutes.

Her teacher, one day, put into her hands an object with which she was not familiar, and left her for a time to inform herself concerning its form and use. She then spelled its name by the manual alphabet. It was an interesting sight to witness this poor little blind deaf mute seize the hand which slowly spelled the letters, her head a little inclined to one side, as if in the act of listening, her lips half closed, her breathing short, and her fingers following with the deepest interest each motion of those of her teacher, her countenance presenting, meantime, an expression of anxiety, which was presently replaced by a smile, as she comprehended the word; till, at last, raising her little hand, she spelled it herself by the manual alphabet, then composed it with her types, and finally, as if to make assurance doubly sure, placed the word thus formed by the side of the object it indicated.

At this time, she had had but three months' instruction. The same course of instruction was pursued during the year, and some lessons on the physical relations of objects were added to it. Laura never wearied of this instruction, and it was highly amusing to witness her recreations, when she supposed herself alone. If with out occupation, she employed herself in spelling words which she had recently

acquired, by the manual alphabet, or in imaginary conversations. She would spell a word incorrectly with her right hand, and then strike that hand with her left, by way of punishment for its carelessness. Again, she would spell correctly with one or the other hand, and then caress the hand which had done well, with her head, as a reward for its good behavior.

After she had been a year and a half at the asylum, her mother came to visit her. Laura encountered her while running, and by her usual process of touching her face, her clothing, etc., endeavored to ascertain whether she was a person whom she knew, but not recognizing her, she left her and resumed her play. The poor mother, in distress at not being recognized, gave her a string of beads, which she had been accustomed to wear at home; the child put them upon her neck with great pleasure, and ran to show them to Dr. Howe; but when her mother attempted to caress her, she still showed no signs of recognition, and repulsed her, evidently preferring the society of her young companions. Another object connected with her early home was put into her hands, and awakened evident surprise and interest; she examined anew the person who had given her these articles, and intimated to Dr. Howe, that she understood that this person was from Hanover. She suffered her to caress her, but without returning the caresses, and with the utmost indifference. This indifference excited the most distressing emotions in the mother; she felt that her daughter was lost to her, and her anguish was painful in the extreme. At this moment, a vague idea seemed to pass through the mind of the child; she seized, once more, her mother's hands, and examined them carefully, her countenance bearing strong traces of thought; suddenly she became very pale, then blushed violently, her face indicating the struggle between doubt and hope. Never, perhaps, was the conflict of contending emotions more strongly depicted on the human countenance. Her mother, unable longer to endure the torturing suspense, seized her and clasped her to her bosom. Then doubt vanished; she recognized the parent who had nursed her in infancy, and she could not be moved or drawn from her embrace. The sports of her young companions, which ordinarily attracted her, had lost their fascination, She had found her mother.

For the first two years her instruction was confined to the names of objects; her teacher next proceeded to make her acquainted with their qualities; this was attained with but little difficulty; but it was not so easy to make her understand the correct use of adverbs and prepositions. The process adopted for this purpose will be best understood by an illustration; a ring was placed upon a box, and the words ring on box were spelled to her; she spelled them correctly; the ring was then placed on a hat, and the words ring on hat spelled. At first, she spelled ring on box, as before, but soon corrected herself. The ring was then placed on several other objects, to give her an idea of the relation expressed by on; then the ring was placed in the box, and the sentence ring in box spelled; and the same series of exercises passed through to illustrate the meaning of in; she confounded the two words many times, but finally evinced her comprehension of them, by first putting one hand upon the other, and spelling the word on; then changing it, and thrusting the one into the other, and spelling the word in. The verbs and other parts of speech were more readily acquired. The idea of writing, and thus conveying her thoughts to others, excited in her mind the liveliest emotions of delight. Almost her first effort, after she had learned the object designed in writing, was to write, unaided, a letter to her mother, in which she told her of her health and happiness, and her earnest desire to visit her.

From this period, her progress was steady and, taking into the account the disabilities under which she labored, wonderfully rapid. She learned to count up to one hundred, acquired the capacity of distinguishing the day of the week, the day of the month, and the weeks and months from each other. She commenced taking lessons on the piano, and soon learned to play correctly, though of course receiving no aid from the ear.

The sense of touch has, in her case, become wonderfully developed. She can perceive the difference in the undulation of the air and the vibration in an apartment, produced by a person walking across the floor.

She is immediately conscious of the opening or closing of a door, in the room where she is sitting, however distant it may be from her. The vibration produced by touching the keys of a piano is

recognized by her immediately. She will distinguish any person whom she has ever met, even if but once, by the touch of her hand, and this, although months may have intervened.

Her intellectual development has kept pace with her acquirements. She not only uses language correctly, and with an evidently thorough appreciation of the meaning of words, but she is constantly reflecting on the facts she has already acquired. She one day addressed to Dr. Howe this question: Man has made houses and vessels, but who made the land and the sea? The answer, that it was God who made all things, and the explanation of his character, affected her deeply. She sought, at once, to know more of this mighty Being, and seemed to take delight in his power and greatness. At a subsequent period, Dr. Howe endeavored to impress religious truths upon her mind; and, as he states, with complete success. She was ready to receive the truths of revelation, and when they were opened to her heart, she embraced them without doubt or hesitation. The fear of death has passed from her mind, since the idea of a resurrection has entered it, and she who once shuddered at the thought of death, even as affecting animals, now rejoices in the hope of that resurrection, where the film shall be removed from her vision, and the sounds of heaven's own music shall greet her ear.

In deportment, Laura is modest almost to diffidence, and manifests in a remarkable degree that maidenly coyness and reserve, which has so often been regarded as the result of education. She exhibits a marked regard for the rights of others, and is at the same time jealously mindful of her own. She possesses a remarkable love of system, order, and neatness, never leaving her room or drawers in disorder, and exhibiting great solicitude for propriety and taste in the arrangement of her dress.

Few cases of misfortune have attracted a wider sympathy or more general interest than this. Narratives of her instruction have been published in almost every language of Europe, and great and deserved credit has been bestowed on Dr. Howe, and the able teachers who have seconded his efforts, for their patient and self-denying labor in thus demonstrating the possibility of bringing a radiant and active soul out of the prison-house to which it was consigned.

Taking it all in all, however, we are compelled to consider the case of James Edward Meystre, an inmate of the Blind Asylum at Lausanne, Switzerland, as the most remarkable instance of the education of a blind deaf-mute which has ever occurred.

The scientific and religious world are certainly under great obligations to Mr. Hirzel, the able and accomplished director of that asylum, for the full details he has given of the instruction of this interesting youth.

Meystre was born at Lausanne, Switzerland, in November, 1826. His faculties were all perfect at birth, but at the age of eleven months he was attacked with smallpox, by which he lost his hearing, and consequently his speech, while his sight was with difficulty preserved. In the spring of 1834, when a little more than seven years of age, his sight was destroyed by the accidental discharge, in his face, of a fowling-piece, loaded with small shot. On the recovery of his health, after this terrible calamity, he amused himself for a year or two in the shop of his father, who was a carpenter, but being deprived of this resource, he attempted, without instruction, to make some rude articles, such as mouse-traps, benches, etc. These displayed considerable mechanical talent, but showed plainly that he had had no instruction. As he grew older, he went from house to house, sawing wood, for which he received his food.

At the age of eighteen and a half years, he was admitted as a pupil in the Blind Asylum at Lausanne. The character of the deaf mute predominates in him. He has the self-reliant air and bearing of the deaf and dumb, rather than the embarrassed and hesitating manner of the blind. His blindness, however, is complete; he retains not the slightest gleaming of light. He soon familiarized himself with the asylum, and was able to find his way about the building alone, in the course of a few days.

We will not weary our readers by a detail of the plan adopted to give him a knowledge of the names of objects, as it was, in all its essential particulars, similar to that already detailed in the case of Laura Bridgman. The word or sign, and the thing signified, were presented to him together, and he soon learned to distinguish them readily, and after some instruc

tion in articulation, to pronounce them. It will be of more interest, we presume, to the readers of THE NATIONAL, to learn something of Meystre's moral development.

Four months after his admission into the asylum, Meyster secretly took from the director a Swiss coin, of the value of about fourteen cents. On being charged with the theft, he at first denied it quite confidently, but circumstances having betrayed him, he avowed it, and excused himself by saying, that it was not worth the trouble of speaking of it. The director took from him his knife and cigars, and as a punishment confined him in a room, where he could watch him. He immediately sought to escape by the window, but the iron network preventing this, he went to the door, and at first by force, and afterward by means of a nail, attempted to unlock it. After some effort he succeeded, and repairing to his workshop, (he had commenced learning the trade of a turner,) supplied himself with cigars and matches, and returned to the room in which he had been confined. When questioned in regard to this act, he protested that he had not gone out. As the cigars proved the falsity of this statement, he alleged that the door opened of itself. At last he was brought to acknowledge the truth. Hirzel proposed to remove him to another room, where he could not escape; he opposed this with violence, threw himself upon the director with great fury, and made vigorous resistance. Being overpowered and placed in confinement for a . time, he seemed better disposed, and never again attempted to steal. His propensity to falsehood was not as readily cured.

M.

On New-Year's day, 1846, after spending the day with his mother, Edward returned at nightfall with her to the asylum. The gates were shut, but soon after Edward was missing. M. Hirzel sought for him unremittingly for nearly four hours, and finally found him at an inn, and under the influence of wine. On being questioned the next day as to his conduct, he replied, that not finding his companions readily, he felt dull, and took advantage of an open door to go out. Suspecting the falsity of this statement, M. Hirzel questioned him further as to his clothing, which was badly torn. Thus detected, he acknowledged that he had climbed over the fence, (at that point about eight feet in height,) and that his clothing had caught in one of the

pickets. He showed no penitence for his fault, and even after a day's solitary confinement, he remained intractable and rebellious. Deeply impressed with the danger of allowing Meystre to go out at will, and as deeply with the necessity of eradicating this habit of falsehood, M. Hirzel resolved, after explaining to him his grief for his misconduct, to inflict corporeal punishment upon him. He did so, and with apparent success. So deeply rooted, however, had this vice become, that it was not long before he was again found guilty of it. At this repetition of his fault, M. Hirzel adopted a different course. He explained to him that an honest man does not tell lies, and then made him write and pronounce the word lie; having done this, he shut him up, with this word in his hand. Returning to him an hour later, he found him much afflicted, and very penitent. At first, M. Hirzel was in doubt how far he comprehended the idea of falsehood; but he soon had evidence in his watchfulness, in regard to the truth of every statement that was made to him, that he fully understood it. From that time he was never known to be guilty even of prevarication.

Up to this period, his teacher had carefully abstained from giving him any religious ideas, being desirous that his intellect should have attained to such a degree of development, as to permit him to understand them thoroughly, before he attempted to communicate them to him. He had now not only learned the names of many objects, but by the use of the manual alphabet, and by writing words on the hand of others, which he had learned to do, he communicated quite freely with those around him. He had no idea of God, although he seemed, like Julia Brace, to have some vague notion of a resurrection. He had observed that the young blind pupils kneeled at evening, and with clasped hands addressed some one who was not in the room, and one day he asked one of them if he were speaking to the sun; the boy replied that he was speaking to some one like a man, who lived far on high. Meystre at once inquired, whether it was necessary to cry loudly, in order to be heard. After a little further reflection, he inquired again, whether this being, similar to men, would die.

Deeming it time that he should be informed concerning the being and attributes

of God, M. Hirzel led his mind onward, step by step, in this way: "Who made that bread? Of what is the bread made? Who made the flour? Whence came the grain? Who made the wheat to grow?" "The sun," replied Meystre. "Who made the sun?" inquired M. Hirzel. Seeing that his pupil was perplexed by this last inquiry, M. Hirzel explained to him that God had made the sun, and all other things in nature, and that it was to him that men offered their prayers. The countenance of the poor blind deaf mute was irradiated with joy and reverence at this information. The God that made the sun was to him a being worthy of all reverence; and from that time forth he voluntarily repeated every night, on retiring to bed, "My God, give me the sun," (that is, its warmth and comfort.)

An incident which occurred a few months later will illustrate the impression which the revelation of the character of God had made upon him. A young blind pupil had stolen a small sum of money; and there being some doubt as to who was the real offender, each pupil was questioned, in turn, as to his guilt. When it came to Meystre's turn to answer, he replied with great solemnity that he was innocent, and that he would not steal, because God knew his thoughts. He then left the room for a few minutes, and returning, approached one of the pupils, (the guilty one,) and after describing by signs, the theft, he asked him if he had not committed it; the boy hesitating, Meystre noticed it, and again questioned him, saying at the same time, Lie, God? with so much earnestness, that the boy pushed him roughly away. and, by his violence, betrayed his guilt.

During the period we are describing, not more than two or three hours of the day were devoted to his intellectual culture; the remainder of the day he worked at wood turning, in which he soon became remarkably skillful. He executed cups, balls, and other articles of fancy wood turning, with such taste and skill, that they received honorable mention for their perfection and beauty, at the World's Fair at London in 1851.

He had also made commendable progress in his studies, having acquired a good knowledge of the elementary rules of arithmetic, and a very considerable fund of general information. He had been instructed in articulation, and could repeat