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. will purpose The process adopted for this 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. She can The sense of touch has, in her case, become wonderfully developed. 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, She was ready with complete success. 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. See| ing 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 a series of selections amounting to about his couch to pour forth his mute orisons two octavo pages, the meaning of which of thankfulness, and his oft-repeated inhe seemed fully to understand. He had quiry to his fellow pupils, to the attendalso acquired considerable knowledge of ants, and to those who visited the asylum, geography, by means of maps in relief. was, "Do you know and love Jesus?" The fear of death occasionally agitated his When he received an affirmative answer, mind, and manifested itself in his conver- he seemed overjoyed. He found one day, sation. M. Hirzel felt that to take away on a table, a book in raised letters, and this depressing fear, it was necessary to asked what it was; the attendant made rob death of its sting, by teaching him the him read the title, "The Life of Christ." way of salvation, through the atonement He at once passed to the date, and finding of Christ. Up to this period he had only that it had been published some three years known God as a creator, and as the power-before, he inquired in a manner indicating ful sustainer of man, and of all worlds; mingled sorrow and reproach, Why was but though, occasionally, the consciousness I not earlier taught this beautiful story?" of sin had disturbed him, he knew nothing Soon after, he inquired of M. Hirzel of the great sacrifice for sin. whether his mother, who had recently deceased, had known and loved Jesus? On learning that she had, he asked very earnestly, how it was that she had not taught him concerning the blessed Saviour? M. Hirzel having resolved to delay no longer his instruction on this deeply interesting topic, commenced, with characteristic caution, by causing him to read, and explaining to him the life of Christ. Step by step, and with constantly increasing interest, they passed in review each event | of that pure and holy life, and it was with the deepest sadness that Meystre read of his trial, his scourging, his crucifixion. The tender solicitude of the dying Saviour for his mother, so cruelly bereft, affected him even to tears; but when he had in imagination followed him to the tomb, and seen him deposited there, his interest ceased; the narrative seemed indeed incomplete; it was a story of human suffering, whose ultimate object he had not comprehended. It was at this point that M. Hirzel again called his attention. "Jesus Christ rose from the tomb on the third day," he said. "Yes, his soul, not his body," Meystre replied. "Soul and body!" Meystre started in surprise. "Did any one feel with his finger the prints of the nails in his hands and feet?" "Yes." Hope and joy irradiated the countenance of the blind deaf mute as he exclaimed, "This story is very beautiful; I wish to print it." M. Hirzel then told him of the ascension of Christ, and of the plan of redemption which brought him to earth, and as he listened to the wondrous story of the cross, tears trickled down his cheeks. Nor was the effect thus produced transitory in its character. The love of Christ, in submitting to death for sinners, had opened in his heart a fountain of adoring love, which constantly overflowed. It was the subject of his sleeping and waking thoughts. Often in the night he rose from 66 We have only to add that recent intelligence from Lausanne represents this interesting young man as still growing in knowledge, and in favor with God and man. The love of Christ still awakens emotion in his heart; his truthfulness, conscientiousness, and devotion are worthy of imitation by all professing disciples of Christ. His thirst for knowledge increases in intensity. He has been devoting some attention to sculpture, and with extraordinary success. That keen perception of the beautiful in form, developed in his wood turning, has here received a new impulse, and he is exceedingly fastidious in regard to the proportion of his figures. In some of the departments of physical science, as well as in other studies, where his faculty of touch can be brought to aid mental action, he has made fine progress, and there is no reason to doubt that, if his life is spared, he may yet become eminent in some of the departments of natural science. Having thus, perhaps at too great length, given our readers a tolerably full account of the efforts already made and now mak. ing for the education of the blind, we propose next to pass to a class of the unfortunate, who, though possessing all their faculties, have yet lost the power of controlling them aright: the insane. We trust our readers will find much to interest them in the history of their emergence from the discipline of chains, stocks, and scourges, into the mild and tender treatment of our model asylums. THE BIOGRAPHY OF THE BIBLE. NOAH, A PREACHER OF RIGHTEOUSNESS. IN N the preceding article we saw the deep depravity into which the human race had fallen previous to the general deluge. Very strong and energetic is the language of the sacred historian on this subject: It repented the Lord that he had made man upon the earth; and it grieved him at his heart. But does God repent? Is the Almighty grieved? These are questions sometimes proposed by the caviler and the skeptic. They would intimate that the Scripture is not to be depended on, or else that the character of Jehovah, like that of man, is vacillating and uncertain; and that, like ourselves, he is subject to the infirmities of passion, to sorrow, and grief, and repentance. In answer to such questions, I observe that there is no one attribute of the Almighty more clearly revealed than his immutability. I am the Lord, I change not. He is, says the apostle, the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, nor shadow of turning. On the other hand, the Scriptures abound with instances wherein change of purpose is attributed to the great Supreme. Thus, on one occasion it is said, the word of the Lord came unto the prophet Samuel, saying, It repenteth me that I have set up Saul to be king: for he is turned back from following me, and hath not performed my commandments. And Samuel, in announcing this terrible truth, the Lord hath rent the kingdom of Israel from thee this day, makes this remarkable addition: And also the strength of Israel will not lie, nor repent; for he is not a man that he should repent. So also in after times, when the Ninevites bewailed their sins in sackcloth at the preaching of Jonah, it is said, God saw their works, that they turned from their evil way, and God repented of the evil that he had said that he would do unto them; and he did it not. Now these apparently contradictory passages are easily reconciled, when we consider that the change here implied was on the part of man; and that this change produced on the part of Jehovah a corresponding difference of treatment. He is unchangeable in his hatred of sin, and in his love of holiness. Hence this very immutability necessarily disposes him to view with very different feelings man delighting in holiness, and the same man yielding to temptation and running into sin. Man changes his moral character; by necessary consequence his relation to God is changed, and when He is said to repent, it implies, simply, a change of conduct on his part, in consequence of a previous change in them. This apparent change on the part of God is always founded upon a real change in the conduct or disposition of his creatures. But how can he who is always perfectly happy be said to grieve? I answer : Grief, when attributed to the Supreme Being, as well as sorrow and anger, hatred, wrath, and fury, must evidently imply something analogous to these emotions among men. They are Scriptural terms, and are often applied to God; and though they express not, says Watson, a tumultuous, much less an unjust passion, there is something in God which answers to them. In him they are principles arising out of his holy and just nature; and for this reason they are more steady and uniform, and more terrible than if they were mere emotions. The language of the passage before us, while it indicates on the one hand the amazing wickedness of man, on the other is evidence that the transgressions on their part were perfectly voluntary; that the Almighty had done everything consistent with his own perfections, to bring them back to a knowledge of himself; and that all his efforts for this purpose had been in vain. The bright example, and the warning voice of Enoch, had been unheeded: the strivings of the Holy Spirit had been resisted, until the Holy One himself declared in that fearful language, applicable alike to all ages and in all times: My Spirit shall not always strive with man. This was the state of the great mass of the human race at the period to which we have now arrived in the world's history. Wickedness abounded: the Spirit was grieved away, and ceased to strive: they had passed the boundary line of mercy, and were now away on the other side of the Rubicon of hope. It is here that we are introduced to the character of Noah. The sacred historian has just stated the determination of the Almighty in his own language: I will destroy man whom I have created, from the face of the earth, both man and beast, and the creeping thing, and the fowls of |