deaf from childhood, who by their own private efforts, assisted only by members of their families, have made equal, or superior, attainments in these accomplishments, as well as in general knowledge. We could name a lady in Connecticut, totally deaf from the age of twelve years, who retains her speech almost perfectly, with some unpleasantness of tone, and rarely, if ever fails, to understand what is spoken to her in a somewhat slow and distinct manner, and has a knowledge of language and an extent of general information superior to the majority of well-educated women. She can even do what, Mr. Day says, is not pretended of any deaf mute in Germany, that is, understand a discourse from the pulpit. This, a few years since, she could always do in the case of her own pastor, and give a correct and full account of the discourse afterwards. We may name also, John R. Burnet of New Jersey, entirely deaf from the age of eight years, self-educated, who presented himself to the public in 1835, as the author of "Tales of the Deaf and Dumb, with Miscellaneous Poems," and has contributed able articles to some of our leading Reviews; and whose abilities as a writer of prose or verse are of a superior order. He can also speak, indistinct ly indeed, but so as to be readily intelligible to his familiar acquaintances; without, however, any power of reading on the lips. James Nack, of New York, deaf from about the same age, produced a volume of well written poetry in 1827, and retains, if we are not mistaken, the power of speech in a similar degree. We know a young lady, deaf from the age of five years, who has a good education, obtained partly at one of our institutions and partly at home; and has retained articulation and acquired the power of reading on the lips, so as to converse, with some of her friends, chiefly in this way. The reader is, by this time, ready to understand, how it is, that transient visitors at the German schools are led to favor us with such exaggerated reports.† An eminent Prussian instructor remarks, in a note to Mr. Weld, (p. 71,) "There are certain teachers who do not protest against the illusions of visitors, unacquainted with the subject, who judge only in consequence of the presentation of some excelling pupils." Such visitors also mistake certain common expressions easily learned, and set exercises familiar to the pupils, for fair specimens of their general attainments. Their excited imaginations deceive them. "I can hardly forbear smiling," said a distinguished German teacher to Mr. Day, (p. 164,) when hearing the remarks of the visitors to the school, especially if they have witnessed nothing of the kind before. It is not uncommon for them to exclaim, Why! he speaks! I hear him myself!' and to be so far carried away by the novelty of the thing, as to form the most exaggerated notions." To persist in setting up the testimony of casual visitors against such evidence as we have now before us, must be deemed an affront to the understanding of the public. An incident took place at the meeting of the American Institute of Instruction last summer, at Hartford, which shows how liable even educated and scientific *That persons in this condition should be able to write poetry, as well as prose, is not sur prising. The notions of accent, quantity and rhythm remain, after all reminiscences of sound are lost; they may attach themselves to the mere movement of the organs of speech, and other characteristics of verse be perceived by the same means. The articulation of persons born deaf is never so perfect as to be adequate to any thing of the kind. In France there have appeared one or two good writers of poetry, deaf from childhood, but educated as deaf mutes. We have, however, in New York, a writer of poetry profoundly deaf from birth-an absolutely solitary instance of the kind, as we believe. We refer to John Carlin, young artist of genius, and highly successful in his line as a miniature painter-two or three of whose poetical lucubrations have appeared in the New York Commercial Advertiser. He knows nothing even of articulation, and has no perception whatever of the effect of rhythm or rhyme, yet can construct both correctly. His verse is wholly a mechanical and artificial work, as respects the production of the external form, though informed with the genuine spirit of poetry, and not deficient in smoothness to the ear. He has acquired this talent as the result of some instruction and much study. Some of these stories were happily hit off, in a paragraph in the “Radii”—a highly respectable newspaper, printed and edited by a deaf mute, at Fort Plain, in this State--by alluding to the wonderful cork leg, celebrated in song, made by an artist in Rotterdam, whose powers so far outstripped those of the natural member, that it could never be stopped or overtaken. Nothing could be more exactly parallel. A remark made by Dugald Stewart, who gave a decided preference to the method of S eard, is here not altogether out of place: "To teach the dumb to speak, (although, in fac entitled to rank only a little higher than the art of training starlings and parrots,) will a ways appear to the multitude a far more wonderful feat of ingenuity, than to unfold silent! he latent capacities of the understanding." men are to pass without inquiry the most essential points in cases submitted for their investigation. A boy was introduced by Mr. Mann, represented as a deaf mute who had been instructed by his father. And, truly, he could articulate well, and had also an uncommon ability to read on the lips. Certainly, there may be something in Mr. Mann's assertions respecting the German schools -was the general conviction. At the afternoon session, however, a gentleman connected with the American Asylum begged leave to call up the lad again; when it was demonstrated that the boy could hear, and understand perfectly, with no aid from the eyes, what was spoken in a full tone of voice, at a short distance. How much better he could once hear, we are not informed, but he had unquestionably obtained his knowledge of speech and of language by the ear. How far and how easily is the language of action available, as a means of communication for deaf mutes? Many persons are sceptical as to the capabilities of such a language for expressing more than what is palpable to sense, or what pertains to the most common uses of life. But the most refined and artificial tongues grow from beginnings like this; the most purely intellectual ideas ever formed by the mind of man, or that have even floated in the dreams of the transcendentalist, find their expression in terms which, in their origin, denoted a purely physical phenomenon. Why then may not a language of action, having the same ground, be in herently capable of a similar develop ment? The lowest stage in which the language of action may be viewed, embraces the pointing out of objects in sight, the natural expression of real emotion, and the indication of wants by means of the most common and familiar actions. In these forms no one can be at a loss how to make use of it. A step higher is taken by personating an individual and describing his actions by imitative signs. In doing this, other persons and things also to which these acts bear a relation, will at the same time be indicated, and may thus, by mere implication, be set before the imagination with as much distinctness as if portrayed with the minutest accuracy. You cannot represent a person as milking a cow, or driving a yoke of oxen, without calling to mind these animals. By the simple action of casting a fishing-line, you present to view the rod, the line and the water; and by other acts, you may picture the bait, the hook, the fish, the bank, or the boat; the more extended and minute the pantomime, the more in number and the more specific will be the objects implied. By skillfully imitating a coachman on his box, as he manages the reins and flourishes the whip, you may not only raise the idea of the reins, the whip, the coach and the horses, but you may show whether he has four or two in hand, and even the rate at which he travels, the kind of road he passes over, and the freaks of the animals. In such imitative action, periods of time may be indicated, by the skillful introduction of actions appropriate to particular times, as night, morning, noon, evening, the Sabbath, winter or summer. By proceeding from a known starting point, the actual time of real occurrences may be communicated. A person returning from an excursion, would commence with his departure, and mark the subsequent intervals of time. Animals may also, to an extent, be personated in pantomime. In this shape the language of action has been cultivated as a fine art, and used for popular amusement, and is universally and readily intelligible. The deaf mute not only makes abundant use of such pantomimic action, which is pantomime, properly so called, but he imitates the motions of inanimate things, and pictures objects by other means. The sign-language of deaf mutes exhibits, however, a wide departure from pure pantomime or mere pictorial representation. In addition to their direct The art of pantomime, it is well known, was carried to great perfection by the ancients. We have it on the authority of Lucian, that a king from the borders of the Euxine, seeing a pantomime perform at Rome, begged him of Nero, to be used as an interpreter with the nations in his neighborhood at home. As every schoolboy knows, it was a matter of strife between Roscius and Cicero, which could best express an idea, the one by gestures or the other in words. The language of signs has been much used by many tribes of American Indians. Parties from some of these tribes have found themselves quite at home, when visiting a school of deaf mutes. Not mere pantomime, but even symbolical signs, strikingly similar, and in some instances the same with those employed by deaf mutes, have been found in use among the Indians. use, it establishes from these as elements, distinct signs appropriated to particular objects, qualities and phenomena, and thus becomes a language of terms combined in propositions-is not merely capable of representing a succession of scenes to the imagination, but becomes an instrument adequate to the expression of ideas in various forms, as in the artificial languages of speech. Such it is, in different degrees of perfection, even as originated and used by the uneducated deaf mute. We shall describe it as it exists in institutions in this country. Of sensible qualities and attributes, form, size and position are either marked or pointed out in the air; or the arms, hands and fingers, one or all, are so adjusted, as themselves to represent the form, position, and sometimes also the size of the objects described. Motions of various kinds are represented through the same means. In a similar manner are denoted the relations of objects, in respect to situation, if at rest, or relative motion, if in motion; thus, by the two hands, or a finger or a thumb of each, are expressed the ideas denoted by such words as on, in, with, near, between, around, under, together, meet, separate, follow, approach. Number, definite or indefinite, is represented by the fingers; and with one hand alone, by a simple method of distinguishing units, tens, hundreds, &c., sums to any amount may be expressed with ease and rapidity. Colors are denoted by referring to some object, (as the lip for red,) or by signs somewhat arbitrary. Weight, hardness and softness, fineness and coarseness of particles or of fabric, roughness and smoothness, degrees of consistency, viscidity, &c., are expressed by peculiarity of action in handling a body having any of these qualities; fluidity by the action of pouring, or by representing the flowing or waving motion of fluids. An individual of a species or class is designated, either by a detailed enumeration of distinguishing traits, or by one or two prominent characteristics simply. The latter is the method natural even to the uninstructed deaf mute, and as the language becomes improved and fixed, is adopted for all common objects; detail being still admissible as occasion or fancy may demand, and much used in the early stages of instruction. The various sorts of external objects, animate or inanimate, the productions of nature or art, are described, not only by peculiarities of form, motion, and other sensible properties, but by the most common actions connected with their production or use, or otherwise related to, and implying them. Animals are in most cases personated; the individual who makes the sign, representing their peculiarities of form or appendage-as horns, ears, neck, whiskers, beard, wings, bill, mane, claws, tusk trunk &c.-upon the corresponding part of his own person; he also generally imitating, to a greater or less extent, the peculiar actions of the animal. The sign for a dog, however, is made by patting the thigh and snapping the fingers as if calling one; the act of catching a fly denotes this species. Bread is indicated by the action of cutting a loaf, and butter by that of spreading upon the bread; milk by that of milking, and hay of mowing; an egg by showing how one is opened, and a watch by seeming to apply one to the ear. The manner in which a cluster of currants is taken into the mouth, that of projecting the stone of a cherry, and that of snapping a watermelon, denote these fruits. The fingers are so moved as to imitate the flickering of flame; or again, they picture falling drops of rain, or flakes of snow. The two hands are united in the shape of a boat, and moved in imitation of its motion; or they are applied to each other and opened and shut like a book. If there is occasion to guard against a mistake of the object intended, for the quality, act or appendage, by which it is mainly denoted, or to distinguish it from other objects equally implied by the action made use of this is easily done by some rude representation of its form or size, or the addition of some other distinctive sign. In passing from the external world to the world of consciousness, we find the language of action equally, and to some extent peculiarly, natural, rich and expressive. The most expressive language of emotion is visible in action, attitude, and play of feature, in the agitation of the frame and the changing hue of the countenance. What volumes does the eye speak? The lips, though mute, may be eloquent. The minutest shade of emotion may be pictured forth to the eye, beyond the power of words, and even tones of voice, to express. The capabilities of the language of action here, will be questioned by none. Rightly to appreciate the indirect service rendered by this element, in every part of the sign-language, requires not only a familiar knowledge, but a careful study of the language itself. Emotions and passions are, however, indicated, not only by their natural expressions and actions characteristic, but also by other signs, descriptive of their physical concomitants as the quick beating of the heart in joy, the stirring up of the blood in anger, the suffusion of the face from shame. Conventional signs are established by selecting some striking point of one or the other kind. The capacity of this language for representing the operations of the intellect, in great variety and with great distinctness and expressiveness, will not be so obvious. It may best be shown, by describing, however inadequately, a few signs for ideas of this class. To learn is, in the sign language, to gather up something and put it into the forehead; to remember, is to hold something there; to forget, is to let something fall out of the same receptacle of thought; to invent, or originate mentally, is expressed by pushing the finger upward upon the forehead, signifying that the thought springs up there; to understand, by striking or pressing the point of the finger upon the forehead, with a lighting up of the countenance; to know, by gently touching and pressing the forehead with a confident air; to intend, to aim at, to refer to, embracing also the idea of the word for, by projecting the point of the finger from the forehead, as if toward an object; for fixed thought, the finger is held upon the forehead with an appropriate air and attitude; It is moved about the forehead to denote thinking about something, or thinking somewhat discursively. The general sign for judge, is made by representing the scales of a balance, by circles formed with the thumb and forefinger of each hand; and is of extensive use in expressing modifications of this general idea, as compare, deliberate, determine, criticise, &c.-in deliberation, there is a hesitating air and a wavering of the scale; in judgment positive, the scales are fixed and the air confident; in determination, the judging is finished, (cut off,) and there is an air of will and decision. Hope, embracing both thought and emotion, is represented by reaching forward with an air of pleased expectation; trust, by grasping one hand and resting on it with the other; trouble of every sort, objective or subjective, by a sign descriptive of confusion and entanglement before one, or in the mind. As thought and feeling cannot be directly depicted to the eye; they are of necessity designated, either by their accompanying outward expression, or bodily affection of some sort; the actions connected with them; the occasions which awaken them ; or their resemblance, real er imagined, to something external and sensible. The application of words to ideas of this class, is founded on these principles, traceable in their etymology, or apparent in their obviously figurative Signs, by attaching themselves more to the outward expression, and by always introducing this as one element, come nearer to an exhibition of the internal state itself, and present it with far more vividness, and often with more definiteness and accuracy; and thus furnish a vehicle for eloquent expression, and an effective instrument for acting, by sympathetic communication, upon the intellectual and moral faculties. use. Extensive use is made of figurative or symbolical modes of expression for other ideas. Indeed, the signs for sensible objects bear a close relation to those figures of speech, in which the whole is represented by a part, or an object by something connected with it as when sail stands for ship, or whip means coachman. It is chiefly by the use of figures founded on resemblance or analogy, that our languages of words are enriched, and acquire copiousness, and at the same time precision. The sign-language also employs symbols of this description, naturally and abundantly; but to a somewhat less extent, in consequence of its power of more direct expression; it also wants the occasions and facilities for the use of metaphor, which result from the artificial structure of language, the employment of the abstract noun especially. The following are a few of the signs of frequent use in a metaphorical sense. The sign for fall, (made by letting the hands tumble downward over each other,) expresses disappointment, discomfiture, and failure of every kind. The sign for silence, (made by pressing the forefinger or the thumb upon the lips,) expresses, as differently modified and combined, stillness and quiet of every kind, peace, humility, meekness, patience, passivity in general, secrecy, &c. Physical cleanli ness represents moral purity, as it does also neatness, grace, elegance, refinement, and ideal perfection. Air or breath denotes spirit, literal straightness, moral rectitude. Just and unjust are figured by the even and the uneven scales. To pardon is literally to wipe off. The sign for show, (made by holding up the palm of one hand, and pointing to it,) has many figurative applications. That for being bound, (made by placing the wrists across, as if tied with a cord,) denotes slavery, confinement of every kind, habit, engagement, business, necessity, obligation of every sort; the opposite ideas of freedom, escape, release, &c., are expressed by separating the wrists, as if breaking loose. In signs, as in words, metaphorical terms become proper by usage. Their figurative origin is, however, not so often lost sight of as in words; yet there is seldom danger of confounding the figurative with the literal meaning. Not only the connection gives the clue, as in words, but there is the aid of a suitable accompanying expression, of combination with other signs, and of variations in the form of the same radical sign; and many signs founded in analogy, differ so widely from any used in a literal sense, that they can hardly in strictness be called metaphorical. Instances of the latter are those for mental operations, which are based upon analogies of motion. The sign for event, or happen, expresses, as nearly as anything, a sudden upturning, but has a form peculiar to itself. Truth, and the opposite, are represented by carrying the finger, with a straight-forward, or a sideways or crooked motion, from the mouth; whereas material straightness and crookedness are expressed by carrying one hand, in a straight or a crooked line, along the open palm of the other. A sign for being interested, or pleased with, is made by a single motion, signifying a drawing or leading of the heart. This flexibility of signs-the facility with which they are varied in form, as differently applied, and often in combination blended into one-is a beautiful feature of the language, and is a resource for variety of expression and speciality and definiteness of signification to an unlimited extent. In the principles already stated lie the methods for denoting the occupations, offices, and relations of mankind, and acts of a general or complex description, which cannot be directly or fully imitated; but for these and other classes of signs our limits forbid detail. All the usual divisions of time, with its different modes and relations, have distinct and established signs; the divisions and the time of day being indicated chiefly by signs having reference to a clock or to the course of the sun; days being counted as so many sleeps, or apparent revolutions of the sun, and weeks, months, and years having other appropriate signs. Future time is indicated by a forward motion of the hand; time past, by throwing the hand backward; and present, by presenting both hands horizontally in front. The signs for sleep, for one, two, or more, and for past or future time, are so combined as by a single brief motion to express the idea of yesterday, or to-morrow, or of two or more days past or hence. Before and after, while, since, till, late, quick, slow, soon, &c., have signs founded on the idea of motion along the track of time, from behind forward. Repeated circles represent always, and with the negation of beginning or end, eternity. Grammatical distinctions cannot be said to have an existence in the natural language of action. There are indeed signs for the different parts of speech and their modifications, which are of use in the explanation of words; they form, as has been stated, an essential part of " methodical signs." Signs may be divided, according to signification simply, into those for objects, qualities, relations, and acts or events; actions into those necessarily transitive and those not so. There are also signs which correspond in their use to conjunctions and adverbs; but there are no peculiarities of form or inflection to mark these classes, or to distinguish the agent from the act, an action or event from a habit, quality or condition, the subjective from the objective, the abstract from the concrete, &c. Explanatory signs are added, however, for this purpose, when needed, and also to indicate time, mode, and agency or passivity; and present indeed something approaching to auxiliaries and inflections in speech. The syntax of the sign-language-the principles by which signs are connected in discourse-is wholly unartificial. The general principles which regulate the order are, that those most nearly related be in the closest proximity, and that the subject be followed by the signs which qualify it, and then by those which predicate something of it. The predicate may be accompanied with an air or a sign of affirmation, or of negation, or of uncertainty, which will answer to the copula of a logical proposition. Little use is made of the affirmative expression, however, in continued narration or description; the several particulars being merely represented as if pictured. The sign-language may be considered as nearly in the condition of certain spoken languages, which have no verb to be. When there is an object on which the subject acts, or to which it bears a rela |