attention to the question which chiefly engaged their investigations, viz.: What is the method to be preferred in the education of deaf mutes?

This question involves the choice of an instrument, or instruments, of communication, as a substitute for hearing and speech acquired through hearing. Those which have hitherto been devised or employed, are the following:

1. Natural signs; by which we mean the language of imitative action, which the deaf mute instinctively adopts, and is naturally led by gradual steps to improve. In those schools in which it receives cultivation, it is found in a degree of perfection very far removed from the primitive rudeness it exhibits among uneducated mutes. As improved, it becomes in a degree conventional, chiefly by processes of abbreviation and of symbolical usage, and by the introduction of a very few purely arbitrary signs; without, however, losing its essential character as a natural language significant in itself.

2. Methodical, also called systematic, signs; an instrument artificially constructed upon the basis of natural signs, to be used for dictating and also for translating written language verbatim. In its elements, it consists chiefly of natural signs, with grammatical signs for the different modifications of words radically the same, and is designed to correspond throughout, both in terminology and construction, with the language which the deaf mute is to be taught by its aid, each word being denoted either by a single sign, or an appropriate combination of signs. This method originated with De l'Epée, and was carried further towards perfection by his successor, Sicard.

3. Written language; to give a knowledge of which must obviously be, in every system of deaf mute education, an object of primary importance.

4. The manual alphabet, the finger alphabet, or dactylology, as it is variously called; consisting of alphabetic characters, formed by different positions of the hand and fingers, by which words are represented according to the usual orthography. Of this there are two varieties: the two-handed alphabet, used in Great Britain, and that made with one hand, generally adopted elsewhere.

5. Reading on the lips; a method of understanding the speech of others, through motions of the lips and other vocal organs, perceived by sight. These

visible motions are called, by Degerando, the labial alphabet.

6. Articulation; or speech mechanically acquired, by having the attention of the learner directed to motions, positions and vibrations of the vocal organs, and to peculiar impulses of certain sounds upon the air. These motions, &c., are named by Degerando, the oral alphabet, as embracing elements which have no place at all in the labial alphabet, and as being recognized by the deaf mute through the sense of feeling, while the other is addressed to the eye.

In addition to these six distinct means of communication, more or less use is generally made of pictures and models in elementary instruction; in the system adopted in some schools, they hold a prominent place. Three other instruments are to be named, which have been favorite projects with some teachers; neither, however, has been found generally useful in any shape yet devised. They are syllabic dactylology, or a short-hand manual alphabet, for the end of rapid communication; a system of stenography for the deaf and dumb, which should correspond to a syllabic dactylology; and mimography, a method of hieroglyphic or picture writing, for reducing to writing the language of natural signs.

Of these instruments, articulation and reading on the lips have been the first to suggest themselves as the means of imparting to the deaf mute a knowledge of the language of words. In the earlier period of the art they were invariably employed. They were adopted as a fundamental means, and indeed, as the chief aim of instruction, by Heinicke, who had derived from Amman the most absurd and exaggerated notions of the absolute dependence of thought itself upon the living voice; and their use has remained to the present time a characteristic of the German schools. In Great Britain, the same method was adopted by Braidwood; but for the last thirty years has been gradually falling into disuse. At the London Institution alone, articulation and reading on the lips are taught, professedly that is, to all the pupils; in some other schools to a portion only, and in others are wholly discarded.

In France, a system fundamentally dif ferent was introduced by De l'Epée. It started in his mind with the philosophi cal principle, that to no one class of signs is confined the privilege of immediately representing thought, that the connection

between words and ideas is wholly conventional, and might as well be established directly with written as with spoken words. In the vernacular pantomime of the deaf and dumb, he found already provided a medium for explaining or translating written language. This language of action he undertook to cultivate and to methodize, so as to fit it more perfectly for this use. His error in depending too much upon his artificial system of methodical signs, has been since corrected. Natural signs, used for the development of mind, the communication of knowledge, and for the explanation of written language, and cultivated so as to be adequate to these ends, form the essential characteristic of the method derived from De l'Epée, and now in use in all the schools in France and many in other parts of Europe, and all in the United States. Methodical signs have even been formally discarded at the Royal Institution, where the system originated, but the advantage of their judicious use is insisted on by eminent teachers in this country and elsewhere.

There is no institution for deaf mutes, not even in Germany, in which natural signs are not used more or less as a means of instruction, but they exist in various states of development, and everywhere imperfect in comparison with schools on the French system. In some of the latter, on the other hand, articulation is a collateral branch of instruction for a portion of the pupils, and was even taught successfully by the Abbé de l'Epée himself.

The manual alphabet is discarded in the German schools, with two or three exceptions, as interfering with the use of oral language. Elsewhere it is in universal use.

The variety of actual, and the still greater variety of possible, combinations of these instruments, each admitting different modes of use, and in some instances, one presenting advantages incompatible in a greater or less degree with those offered by another, makes it impossible to determine by actual trial, and difficult to determine without trial, the precise mode of instruction which is preferable to every other, rendering the question, in short, not a little complicated. In considering them separately, the point to be settled at the outset is, their actual availability as instruments of communication. To what extent, then, are articulation and reading on the lips attainable

by deaf mutes, so as to be available in use?

It is absolutely necessary here to distinguish the different classes of those ranked as deaf mutes, determined by the degree of their deafness, and also the period of its commencement. It is not generally understood that a degree of deafness, which, occurring in adult life, is regarded as no more than a quite serious inconvenience-requiring that the voice of a person speaking be somewhat louder than usual, in order to be understood-would, if existing from birth or early infancy, interfere essentially with the acquisition of language, and without great pains on the part of friends, leave the child to fall into the class of those regarded as deaf mutes, with a knowledge of language limited to a few words and short phrases, and the ability to articulate these but imperfectly. This will not appear wonderful when we consider, that to adults thus partially deaf, most of the common conversation in their presence is unintelligible, and much of it absolutely inaudible, and even when understood, is often imperfectly and but partially heard. From this to absolute deafness, there is, among deaf mutes, every intermediate grade. There are also cases in which the sensibility of the auditory nerve is wholly or nearly unimpaired, and the deafness is the result of something out of order in the apparatus for conveying vibrations of the air to the nerve. The individual can hear his own voice, or any sound-as that of a tuning-fork, for instance, or the tick of a watch-conveyed by contact with the bones of the head, with, it may be, perfect distinctness, while external sounds are yet for the most part inaudible; and has an essential advantage for regulating the voice, and gaining a correct and an agreeable articulation, and especially for retaining purity and propriety of speech when once acquired. Hearing of this description may exist without being easily detected.

Again, deafness-with constant deprivation of speech, total or partial, so as to place the individual in the class of deaf mutes-occurs at various ages, from birth to as late in some cases as eight years. Even when total deafness occurs at a much later period, the speech will be greatly impaired, without diligent cultivation, and in a degree, even with the utmost pains to preserve it, may, in some instances, be almost wholly lost. It is obvious that, where speech is

sensualized-whether from some error in the burin, or imperfection of the daguerreotype, it matters not, so the mischief is done. The sketch of Inman is about as detailed and just as might be expected so soon after the death of a man so much beloved and admired. A happy versatility, but not a very great depth of genius, characterized this favorite artist.

In the third number we have sketches of Benjamin West and Stewart. The portrait of West is so particularly fine, that we present it to our readers. Apart from other considerations, this is a distinction of precedence to which this venerable Artist is certainly entitled. He was the first, in point of time, our country gave birth to, and unquestionably his painstaking and laborious life was crowned with honors not discreditable to the infancy of Art among any people.

The Life and Character of Benjamin West is a subject which can awaken but little true enthusiasm in men's minds. "Some men achieve greatness-some have it thrust upon them." With all West's order and industry, and his long life of earnest endeavor, we still feel that he was a lucky man-that he was born at a fortunate period, when a small capital of talent went a great way, because there was less competition than at a later day. We feel that, in some sense, “greatness was thrust upon him." He was born of Quaker parents. Absurdity often passes for wit, and oddity is almost universally interesting. There was something novel-something exceedingly recherché-in the idea of a Quaker Artist. It was what the learned call a lusus naturæ, and the vulgar a white black bird.

His early efforts make our hearts thrill. We feel a joy at his success in the draw. ing of his baby sister, which has something in it analogous to the feeling of the mother. Then we take deep interest in his Cherokee instructors, and their teachings in the mysteries of colors, and the art of archery. Then his picking the cat of her fur for brushes, and the trouble of the precise Quaker parents at the altered appearance of the cat, and their rebuking him for his quotations from its fur, "more in affection than anger," are all subjects of interest. And then, when better help came, and the merchant-Penningtonsent his young artist cousin a box of paints and pencils, with canvas prepared for the easel, and six engravings by Grevling, we sympathize deeply with the child in his sleepless joy. And then

the anger of his schoolmaster, because he shut himself up to paint instead of going to school, and the kisses of his mother because of his success in his seclusion, are interesting features in the history of West.

There seems to have been but one event in West's life, which violated his Quaker faith or education. He became a soldier. The Friends had not included this pursuit in their prophecy for the paragon they were persuaded West must become. His only exploit as a soldier appears to have been finding the bones of Sir Peter Halket's father. The sober imagination of West was so much excited by the scene, that he wished to embody it in a picture; but Lord Grosvenor, to whom he described it, discouraged him, and he had not that impetuous genius which carries its possessor, with the force of the avalanche or cataract, over all obstacles, and, easiest of all, over the bubbles of royalty. He returned from his little episode as a soldier, to receive the dying blessing of his mother. His deep and absorbing love for her is truly affecting. His father's house was no longer a pleasant home to him, without the charm of his mother's watchful affection. He soon left for Philadelphia. Here he obtained much patronage. From Philadelphia he went to New York. Here he obtained help to go to Italy. With a present of fifty guineas from Kelly, and letters to leading men in his pocket, he departed for Rome. There he was considered a lion, or rather a sort of savage; and it can hardly be determined at this day whether the people of Rome wished most to exhibit the young savage, or the masterpieces of Art which their City contained. They paid him, however, great attention. An exhausting ambition seems to have been awakened in his mind, and he soon fell ill of a fever. After a lingering illness of eleven months, he was cured.

Those who befriend genius, (says Cunningham in his life of West,) when it is struggling for distinction, befriend the world, and their names should be held in remembrance. There is good sense and right feeling in the reply of Mahomet to the insinuation of the fair Ayesha, that his first wife, Cadijah, was old and unlovely, and that he had now a better in her place. "No, by Allah! there never was a better. She believed in me when men despised me. She relieved my wants when I was poor and persecuted by the world."

The names of Smith, Hamilton, Kelly, Allen, Jackson, Rutherford and Lord Grantham, must be dear to all the admirers of West. They aided him in the infancy of his fame and fortune. They watched over him with the vigilance of true friendship.

In 1763, West went to London. We will not say that, in an evil hour, he became the protégé of royalty. No! It was well. It was in keeping, for West was not above being pinned to the skirts of a royal robe, till what he considered a very hard fortune cut him loose. West's life was regular. Nothing was allowed to break the uniformity, not to say monotony, of his methodical existence. He was never guilty of any of those oddities or absurdities which men of genius take it upon them to enact generally in youth, and often in age. As his wife said, "He was a good man-he never had a vice."

From 1769 to 1801, West received orders from the King in person. The King's sickness, at this last date, suspended all West's work, and threw a dark cloud over his life and prospects. However, from the time of His Majesty's recovery till his final superannuation, West was again the subject of royal

patronage.

West's life was long and laborious, and his productions were very numerous. Cunningham says of him: "He wanted fire and imagination, to be the restorer of that grand style which bewildered Barry, and was talked of by Reynolds. Most of his works-cold, formal, bloodless and passionless-may remind the spectator of the sublime vision of the valley of dry bones, when the flesh and skin had come upon the skeletons, before the breath of God had informed them with life and feeling. Though such is the general impression which the works of West make, it cannot be denied that many are distinguished by great excellence. In Death on the Pale Horse, and more particularly in the sketch of that picture, he has more than approached the masters and princes of the calling. West was injured by early success. He obtained his fame too easily. It was not purchased by long study and many trials, and he rashly imagined himself capable of any. thing. But the coldness of his imagination nipped the blossoms of history. It is the province of Art to elevate the subject in the spirit of its nature, and brooding over the whole with the feeling of a

poet, awaken the scene into vivid life and heroic beauty; but such mastery rarely waited upon the ambition of this amiable and upright man."

Fair, honest criticism, in which there is keen analysis and a just award of praise and blame, is not often met with in the market. The material for a genuine Critic is quite as rare and precious as the material for a genuine Poet. It is much better for genius to stand alone than to be bolstered in a clique, paying for praise by glorifying others, whether they always deserve it or not. This tendency of our age to act in masses, societies, cliques, &c., is proof of its exceeding poverty. The man of genius stands alone, and stands out from his time. He does not ask endorsement. He is sui generis, and "sets the fashion" for a long line of lesser men. The commonest observer cannot but see that Benjamin West was not such a man. His life and character forcibly remind one of what Cunningham so justly says of his pictures:

"They are well-conceived and prettily drawn, but want soul and substance, and seem the shadows of what is noble and flat, and the eye seems to see through both lovely. There is no deception. They are

color and canvas."

That West was a man of industry and talent, all will readily concede. He was a most amiable man, too. (We remember a wicked wag who said amiability is a very stupid virtue.)

His biographer says, "The war which broke out between Britain and her colonies was a sore trial to the feelings of West. His early friends and present patrons were involved in a bloody controversy. He was not, according to his own account, silent. He was too much in the palace and alone with his majesty, to avoid some allusion to the strife. The King inquired anxiously respecting the resources of his foes and the talents of their chiefs, and the Artist gave, or imagined he gave, more correct information concerning the American leaders and their objects, than could be acquired through official channels. West had long been away from his native land. His literary talents were not of an order to allure correspondents, and with few if any of the influential insurgents can it be supposed that he was at all acquainted. But not few were the delusions under which this amiable man

taught, or attempted to be taught, to all the pupils of the school. *** But though his success was fair, he considered that he could spend his time to much greater profit in giving them knowledge,' and therefore made the change above mentioned. He said also, that though a portion of them retained articulation tolerably after leaving him, many do not. Their friends often cannot understand them well, if at all, and hence their attempts are relinquished.”

From the description, we infer that the school at Edinburgh is here referred to, and that Mr. Kinniburgh is the gentleman whose testimony is given.

How far can the great majority of the deaf and dumb succeed in acquiring articulation? In the German schools, according to Mr. Day, (p. 178,) " about onetenth of the whole can make no proficiency whatever," and deducting the onefifth, or two-tenths, already mentioned as more successful, there remain" seventenths, or the great mass, though differing somewhat in their attainments, yet only able, as a general thing, to make

themselves understood in the articulation

of frequently repeated sentences, and single words, and to whom this limited acquisition can be of very little worth." A German teacher made to Mr. Day the following admission, (p. 168,) "The deaf mute will and must, after his dismission from school, communicate with those about him, in a great measure, by means of signs; now, if we can furnish him with words which he can drop in to explain his meaning, all is accomplished which we can reasonably expect." Says Mr. Weld (p. 53):

"The time and labor spent on the subject of articulation in certain of the schools, are productive of little real benefit. Though I met with many who had been trained to attempt it, I scarcely found one, except those under peculiar circumstances, as previously mentioned, to whom it was of special value, and hardly met with an intelligent individual, not connected with some school, who looked upon the subject with favor. By such persons it was considered as almost worthless, if not disgusting."

To read well on the lips, requires such a rare power of rapid and accurate perception, and depends so much upon uncommon quickness of apprehension,

joined to a thorough and familiar acquaintance with language, in order to guess the whole from a part;* that it is absolutely beyond the reach of most. In the words of an eminent German teacher, "As for reading on the lips, it is for the most part an affair of good luck." The teachers of the German schools, in addressing their pupils orally, find it necessary to keep up a running accompaniment of pantomimic signs. The following is from Mr. Day p. 182):

"On an average, about one-third of the most advanced class, with the aid of the signs employed by the teacher, and the frequent repetition made use of, appear to understand the most of what the instructor says; another third appear to lose a considerable part; while the remainder only seize the most common words, and are obviously much of the time at a loss as to what is going on. It will be remembered that this is a general estimate, and in some cases would not be sufficiently favorable."

If the results in some of the schools on the German plan, seem more favorable than this, it is to be ascribed to the fact that those schools are to a great extent select-pupils being chosen for admission, with reference to their aptness for the peculiar kind of instruction to be given them, or afterwards dismissed for the want of it. Thus, as appears from Mr. Weld's Report, (p. 88,) at the institution at Zurich, from one-fourth to one-third only of the applicants are selected, while one-fifth of all admitted, and of late years one-third, have been school at Richen, near Basle, almost onedismissed for incapacity. From the third, and from that at Pfortsheim, in the fifth have been dismissed on the same Grand Duchy of Baden, more than oneground. Something like this is true, says Mr. Weld, of many of the German schools, and to an extent, of the London Institution, while in the school at Paris and those in this country, not over one in fifty is dismissed as incapable.

That the Germans, with their skill and science, should succeed in enabling some of their pupils who became deaf at six, eight, or twelve years of age, to articulate passably and to read well on the lips, certainly need not surprise us, when we have among ourselves persons