tion, the construction varies according to the exigency. Most frequently, the nature or circumstances of the case show which is the subject, and which the object. It is, of course, the cat that devours the mouse; it is the wounded and disabled man who is carried. When the natural relation is reversed, or no clue is found in the nature of the case, it is not difficult to indicate the meaning correctly, by methods which vary according as the scene can be most successfully pictured. One is, to have a strict regard to the relative position and location of subject and object. Or, both the agent and the recipient of an action may be personated in turn. Having represented the stripling in the act of hurling the stone from the sling, we may immediately act the part of the giant receiving the blow on his forehead, and falling to the ground. So, a horse may be shown in the act of kicking, and a man as receiving and feeling the effect of the blow. Another method, like this, but more artificial, yet altogether common, is to use the sign for give in the figurative sense of agency or causation, or that for first, or both at once; and on the other hand, the sign for receive, or some other denoting passivity. These auxiliary signs answer the end of an active and a passive voice. The signs for some actions, how ever, mark this distinction by a change in their form, the motion being, for the active sense, from the person, and reversed for the passive.

There is nothing in the language of signs corresponding to the tenses of verbs. The time of an action or event is generally indicated at the outset, definitely or indefinitely; it being once fixed, the narration may proceed, events in succession being simply represented, and time reckoned from the starting point. We are not, however, confined to the direct order, but may at any point refer to other events, at any distance of time previous. As the relation of events gives them an actual presence to the imagination, each one of a series narrated becomes in turn present; and the interval between this and the one next succeeding, is hence represented by the sign of futurity. Thus this sign becomes a connective between successive events, when separated by any appreciable interval; the relation between two successive events past, being in fact the same as that between the present and the future. There is here a remarkable cor

respondence with a peculiar usage of the Hebrew tongue. The commencement of Genesis, literally translated, reads thus : "In beginning created God as to the heavens and the earth. And the earth was formless and waste, and darkness upon face of abyss, and spirit of God moving upon face of the waters. And will say God, be light, and will be light. And will see God as to the light, that good," &c. This usage prevails in all the narrative parts of the Hebrew Scriptures. It still forms a questio vexata for grammarians; one theory that has been advanced for its explanation, is confirmed by the comparison now made. This is only one instance among many, in which this language of nature may throw light upon the studies of the philologist. It is well known to those acquainted with the Hebrew, that it has but two forms of tense, and that the past (so called) is extensively used for future time, as well as the future for past. This also may be explained, by considering the tense called the past as really an aorist, representing the action simply, and without relation to time at all-just as it is pictured by an imitative sign-the relation of time intended being determined by the connection, or by circumstances. Thus the first of Genesis would read: In the beginning create, instead of created.

. Modifications corresponding to the potential, subjunctive, and imperative moods, are indicated, sometimes or partly by an accompanying expression of feeling, and further by auxiliaries consisting of distinctive signs for the modifying ideas. By both these means also, are expressed the relations between the members of conditional, disjunctive and causal propositions. A causal proposition is sometimes put in the form of the question why? and the answer because. There are also signs for the ideas expressed by the other conjunctions. Indication upon the fingers serves instead of and.

Little use is made of anything corresponding to personal pronouns of the third person, or relatives. Yet their end can be answered, by fixing and referring to the location of objects, or by indicating them respectively on the fingers, which may be employed to represent them. The several pronominal adjectives have in general corresponding signs.

A very marked and important differ

up! what an unmeasured grandeur ! How eloquent in beauty! But we have a good description in an old volume called "The Beauties of England :"

"The most ancient part of the present fine structure is the steeple, which was begun in 1373 and finished in 1395. An elevation more delicate in symmetry, more chastely ornamented, or more striking in general character, was perhaps never designed by the great school of builders, who ranged without restraint of will over all the beauties which genius could combine for the purpose of effect or display. It commences in a square tower, no portion of which remains blank; though not any superfluity of ornament is introduced. The win dows are well-proportioned, and the but tresses eminently light. In various niches are introduced figures of saints, and each division is enriched with a bold but not redundant spread of embroiderywork and embossed carving. This tower is 136 feet 3 inches in height, and on it stands an octagonal prism 32 feet 6 inches high, which is supported by springing arches of graceful and easy character. The octagon is surmounted by a battlement, from which proceeds a spire 130 feet 9 inches in height, and adorned with fluting, and embossed pilaster-wise. The walls of the spire are 17 inches thick at the bottom, and so finely tapered as to recline but 45 degrees from the perpendicular. The beauties of the steeple are so evident to the common eye, that they need no aphorism of the scientific to impress them on the attention, but it may be observed that, according to the local tradition, Sir Christopher Wren pronounced the structure a masterpiece of the art of building."

In the Trinity church opposite, the octagonal prism is wanting, and the spire rests directly upon the tower, (as in Trinity, New York, which remarkably resembles it) the effect of which is to detract greatly from its appearance, in contrast with St. Michael's; although, in any other connection, it would have a very imposing effect, being 237 feet high. The same may be said of St. John's. But time has left neither of these edifices unchanged, and the brown stone has peeled off to the depth of two or three inches all over the surface, while continued rains have made tesselated furrows in many parts; some of the saints have fallen from their niches, and the faces of others are "sans nose, sans eyes," and

every other distinctive feature. Still the spire remains; and, to our eyes, unac customed to an antiquity of more than a few score years, the rust of so many centuries adds to their grandeur, as their vast gray needles pierce into the sky, proudly amidst the decay around. An aged matron who came, at our knock, from a little low house in the neighborhood, went before, with her keys in hand, regretting at one moment that her husband was not there to go with us, and, the next, pointing to the changes which had taken place on the exterior during her forty years' sojourn in Coventry, and lamenting that St. Michael's vestry were not as well able as that of Trinity to repair and re-face. We walked into the church, and paused for a few moments to look around. There was a deep solemnity about the silent and deserted building, shaded by the lofty pointed arches, and dark rafters of carved oak, while the mellow light of the setting sun, entering through the stained glass windows, tinged with prismatic rays the long lines of clustered columns, which supported the arches on either side, and, here and there, brought to view, npon some monumental slab, skulls and cross bones, and almost faded epitaphs.

We subsequently stood within the Coliseum by moonlight, and under the proud dome of St. Peter's; and yet I doubt whether in these, or any other scenes, we experienced the same keen sensations of pleasure, which led us, during our journey to London, to examine with such particularity every object which presented itself to view. In the former we expected much; but these old churches were almost unheralded amongst the many objects of attraction in the neighborhood.

St. Michael's is about three hundred feet long; nearly double the length of Trinity in New York. In the half story wings are low galleries and, in or under them, numerous small chantrys or chapels, the names of which, and the period of their foundation, were detailed to us with great volubility by the sexton's wife. In many instances the inscription on the monument of the founder contained a clause from his will, granting a bequest for a priest to say mass in the chapel. In Byeford's chantry provision was made for the maintenance of six poor men and their wives, once freeholders, now reduced by mis

wielding of the instrument, and skill in its management. There is nothing like being forced by stern necessity to the constant use of a particular mode of communication, to give it a firm adhesion to the mind. But with instruments slow and cumbrous like these, if command of them is to be acquired by use alone, there must be constant use, and a necessity admitting no alternative. That it is possible to acquire language in this manner, has been demonstrated in the remarkable instance of Laura Bridgman-the deaf, dumb and blind girl at the Perkins Institution for the Blind, at Boston; who has literally felt her way to the new world of ideas, into which she has been introduced through the medium of finger language alone the manual alphabet of the deaf and dumb, and the raised letters used by the blind. With the increased disabili ties consequent on the loss of sight-the necessity which has shut her up to alphabetic language as the only available means of communication, must, on the other hand, be reckoned an important advantage for its acquisition in the mode now in question. Although her attainments reflect deserved credit upon Dr. Howe, under whose direction they have been made, yet it is manifest that, by the favor of a rare mental and physical constitution, she is enabled to fly where others would creep, and she has had for a long course of years, the almost exclusive attention of a competent individual devoted to her instruction. Her case is far from proving that the deaf and dumb, supposing signs of action abandoned, would acquire alphabetic language as rapidly or perfectly as by the methods now in use; while to force them, in a community by themselves, to do without signs, may be safely reckoned an absolute impossibility.

The work of learning a language involves two processes, distinct, though conjoined the acquisition of the external forms and of their meaning. For a child acquainted with language as spoken, to learn the same in another form, as spelled and written, is usually a work of considerable labor; but it would be a hundredfold greater, were not the sound of the words a guide to the spelling, and the spelling to the sound. A person who should attempt to learn a foreign language in a strange character-as Hebrew or Arabic by the eye and the pen alone, giving no sound to the letters or words, would be in a condition to estimate the difficulty presented to the deaf mute in

the mere external form of language; but still without experience of the consequent disadvantage for acquiring its meaning in the mode now in question. Yet, while signs should be subsidized to make amends for this disadvantage, this method should have the fullest scope consistent with realizing their benefits.

The method which relies, for the acquisition of language, upon its use by articulation and labial reading, agrees in a most important respect, as has been observed, with the one just considered. As compared with this, it presents, however, essential disadvantages for which it has nothing to offer in compensation. The form of words, as represented by writing or the manual alphabet, is more easily learned, than as articulated and read on the lips. The latter requires a great expenditure of time in a mere mechanical exercise, to the hindrance of intellectual cultivation and of progress in learning the meaning of language. This mode of communication has, on the whole, no advantage in point of rapidity. Mr. Day says, he could generally spell with the manual alphabet, as rapidly as the most advanced deaf mutes in the German schools could read. It is less certainly and readily intelligible, especially in the intercourse of deaf mutes with each other. Instead of being fitted to aid in acquiring language by observation of its use, a previous knowledge of language is itself necessary to the successful guessing, by which chiefly speech is understood by the deaf mute. The advantage that can be urged with the most semblance of plausibilty, is that of being a better means of communication with the speaking world; which, of course, cannot be realized to any great extent by the pupil within the walls of an institution; while the imperfection of the attainment is, in the majority of cases, such as to render the advantage altogether imaginary. Instruction in writing is, of course, combined with this method, and is an auxiliary indispensable, in order to give anything approaching a correct and thorough knowledge of language. Indeed, the fact, that both signs and writing are everywhere, and of necessity, employed, where deaf mutes are instructed in oral language, demonstrates the exceeding imperfection of the latter, as a medium of communication for them. It is to be remarked that the irregular orthography of the English presents peculiar difficulties in the way of acquiring language by this means; such as do

not exist in the German, Italian and some other tongues.

What is the fitness of signs of action, for the purpose of instruction in a language of words? From the simplicity of their form, and their lightness and rapidity of execution, they are easily employed and readily perceived, and remembered without labor; while they are, for the most part, so naturally representative, that their meaning is perceived without explanation at all, or, once understood, is never forgotten. So far as precision in their use is given by instruction, it is done with no loss of time, but in the very act of teaching words. By this medium, the meaning and force of words and the laws of their combination, can be explained at once; and in many cases, if skillfully done, the knowlege thus imparted will be nearly complete and accurate from the outset; whereas, by the mere process of observing the occasions of words and expressions, their meaning would generally not unfold itself, till after many repetitions; would be established correctly only through the repeated relinquish ment of mistaken assumptions; sometimes after long groping in the dark, would still elude the grasp; and often would be only partially seized, and be but a dim and uncertain thing in the mind. Signs often shed immediate light upon what would otherwise either remain absolute darkness and chaos, or be long waiting the gradual dawning of day. Signs are, however, merely a staff to assist along those steps, which the deaf and the hearing must alike take in the acquisition of language; to leap or to fly being as impossible in the case, as to pass from one point of space to another without traversing the interval, or to support the upper part of a structure without the lower. To have a correct translation of a passage in a foreign tongue even, is by no means to have a knowledge of so much of the language as the passage embodies; while the genius of the signlanguage differs so essentially from that of a language of words, that the acquisition of the latter, by the help of the former, is altogether a different task from that of learning a foreign language by means of a mother tongue, constructed upon the same general laws. The process must indeed be essentially the same, as in the acquisition by the hearing child of his mother tongue itself. Signs, used as they should be by the instructor, supply the place of the actual presence

of things, by representing them to the imagination; and with two advantages: one, that by the multiplication of examples and illustrations, the experience which, in the use of language in real life, would be scattered over a long period, can be concentrated upon a point; the other, that this method admits of a regular and systematic procedure, in which one acquisition shall prepare the way for another. By proceeding thus, and engaging the pupil constantly in the alternate processes of translating words into signs and signs into words, language may be rapidly and thoroughly inwrought into his mind, in its twofold use, for communication actively, and reception passively. Again, signs are a means of rapidly enlarging the circle of the pupil's ideas, and the bounds of his knowledge; and as there is a sense in which ideas must go before their expression or apprehension in language, the advantage here is immense. They also awaken and give a spring to all the mental faculties; they give that kind of interest to the exercises of the school-room, which the mind of childhood especially needs, making what would otherwise be an intolerable drudgery, a pleasant occupation; by this means, the powers are more energetically and actively employed upon both the mechanical, and the more properly intellectual, labor of the acquisition of language. Cut off, as the deaf mute necessarily is, from the living voice, with the music and the eloquence of its tones, it would seem cruel to deprive him of that agreeable and expressive substitute which nature puts in his power, and to chain him down to a language literally dead to him.

It is true there is a tendency on the part of the pupil to be misled by the peculiar idiom of the sign-language-a point demanding skill and care in the teacher. Signs mislead by intervening between words and their meaning, and often imperfectly representing the latter. There is, again, a tendency for signs to be indulged, when words might be employed more to the advantage of the pupil. They are such a convenient staff, that the support must be judiciously and timely withdrawn, or the learner will never be able to go alone. The use of signs, on the other hand, in their improved condition, accustoms the pupil to the free and familiar use of a real language, embracing terms general and figurative; and thus, as far as it goes, forms an excellent preparation for the