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Eleventh Annual Report Of The Trustees Of The Perkins Institution And Massachusetts Asylum For The Blind

Creator: Samuel Gridley Howe (author)
Date: 1843
Source: Perkins School for the Blind

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APPENDIX A.

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LAURA BRIDGMAN.

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GENTLEMEN,

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IN drawing up an account of the progress of our interesting pupil, during the past year, I shall rather aim to give information to the general readers of our annual report, and to those numerous persons who watch with interest the progress of the experiment of her education, than to detail any new facts.

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Her health has been excellent during the year, uninterrupted indeed by a single day's illness. Several medical gentlemen have expressed their fears that the continual mental excitement which she manifests, and the restless activity of her mind, must affect her health, and perhaps endanger the soundness of her mental faculties; but any such tendency has been effectually counteracted by causing her to practice callisthenic exercises, and to take long walks daily in the open air, which on some days extend to six miles. Besides, she has a safeguard in the nature of her emotions, which are always joyful, always pleasant and hopeful; and there is no doubt that the glad flow of spirits which she constantly enjoys, contributes not only to her physical health, but to the development of her mind. There is a great difference produced, even physically, by the habitual indulgence of different emotions. Let two children of quick parts be put to study -- the one stimulated by emulation, by pride, and by envy, and the other by love of his parents, by regard for his teacher, and above all, by the natural relish for new truth and the delight which results from a pleasant activity of the perceptive faculties, and the difference, even in the physical effects, will, after a time, be perceptible. Ambition, envy, and pride, while they may stimulate to powerful mental efforts, are accompanied with little pleasure, and that not a healthful one; they leave behind lassitude and dissatisfaction; the child craves something more, he knows not what; but joy, that oxygen of the moral atmosphere, is generated only by the action of the generous and noble sentiments.

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Laura generally appears, by the quickness of her motions and the eagerness of her gestures, to be in a state of mind which in another would be called unnatural excitement. Her spirit, apparently impatient of its narrow bounds, is as it were continually pressing against the bars of its cage, and struggling, if not to escape, at least to obtain more of the sights and sounds of the outer world. The signs by which she expresses her ideas are slow and tedious; her thoughts outstrip their tardy vehicle, and fly forward to the goal; she evidently feels desirous of talking faster than she can and she loves best to converse with those who can interpret the motion of her fingers when they are so rapid as to be unintelligible to a common eye. But with all this activity of the mental machinery, there is none of the wear and tear produced by the grit of discontent; every thing is made smooth by the oil of gladness. She rises uncalled at an early hour; she begins the day as merrily as the lark; she is laughing as she attires herself and braids her hair, and comes dancing out of her chamber as though every morn were that of a gala day; a smile and a sign of recognition greet every one she meets; kisses and caresses are bestowed upon her friends and her teachers; she goes to her lesson, but knows not the word task; she gaily assists others in what they call housework, but which she deems play; she is delighted with society, and clings to others as though she would grow to them; yet she is happy when sitting alone, and smiles and laughs as the varying current of pleasant thoughts passes through her mind; and when she walks out into the field, she greets her mother nature, whose smile she cannot see, whose music she cannot hear, with a joyful heart and a glad countenance; in a word, her whole life is like a hymn of gratitude and thanksgiving.

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I know that this may be deemed extravagant, and by some considered as the partial description of a fond friend; but it is not so I; and fortunately for others, (particularly because this lesson of contentment should not be lost upon the repining and ungrateful,) she is as a lamp set upon a hill, whose light cannot he hid. She is seen and known of many, and those who know her best will testify most warmly in her favor.

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The general course of instruction pursued during the past year, corresponding as it does with that detailed in former reports, needs not to be here repeated for the information of those to whom this report is immediately addressed; but as great public interest is excited in this case, and as inquiries are continually made respecting the processes by which instruction is conveyed to her mind, it may be well to explain some of them, even at the risk of repetition, and of saying what may seem to those familiar with the theory of teaching the deaf and dumb not only trite but worthless. Let me therefore say here, that should any of the theoretical views of deaf-mutism propounded in these reports, be deemed unsound by those better acquainted with the subject, it is to be considered that our Institution is not one whose object it is to teach deaf-mutes; the cases which have been treated of are those where mutism is complicated with blindness, and which have come under its care simply because its method of instruction seemed nearest adapted to such cases; -- cases nearly hopeless, and which, it is believed, have never before been successfully treated.

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Some kind of language seems necessary for every human being; the cravings of the social nature are loud and constant, and cannot be gratified except by some medium of communication for the feelings. The intellect cannot be developed unless all the modifications of thought have some sign even, by which they can be recalled. Hence men are compelled by a kind of inward force to form languages; and they do form them under all and every circumstance. The social organ presents the natural and most perfect medium through which, by attaching a meaning to every modulation of voice, a perfect system of communication is kept up. The question whether a people could exist without language would be about as reasonable as it would be to ask whether they can exist without hands; it is as natural for men to converse as it is for them to eat; if they cannot speak they will converse by signs, as, if they had no hands, they would feed themselves with their toes. Children then, prompted by nature, associate their thoughts with audible words, and learn language without any special instruction. If you make the sound, represented by the letters a p p l e, when you hold up the fruit to a child, he naturally associates that sound with it, and will imitate the sound, even without your trying to make him do so; if the child be deaf so that he cannot hear the word which you speak, of course he cannot imitate it, and as such, of course, he must be forever dumb. But the desire to associate the thing with a sign still remains, and he has the same power of imitation as others, except in regard to words; if therefore you make a visible sign when you show him the apple, as by doubling the fist, the fist afterwards becomes to him the name or sign for the apple. But suppose the child cannot see the apple, suppose he be blind as well as deaf. What then? he has the same intellectual nature, -- put the apple in his hand, let him feel it, smell it, taste it, -- put your clenched hand in his at the same time, and several times, until he associates this sign with the thing, and when he wishes for the fruit he will hold up his little fist, and delight your heart by this sign, which is just as much a word, as though he had said apple! out aloud.

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Reasoning in this way I undertook the task of instructing Laura Bridgman and the result has been what it will ever be where nature is followed as our guide.

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This simple process is readily understood; but simple signs, and names of objects being easy enough, it is often asked, how can a knowledge of qualities which have no positive existence be communicated? Just as easily, and just as they are taught to common children when a child bites a sweet apple, or a sour one, he perceives the difference of taste; he hears you use one sound, sweet, when you taste the one, another sound, sour, when you taste the other. These sounds are associated in his mind with those qualities; the deaf child sees the pucker of your lips, or some grimace when you taste the sour one, and that grimace perhaps is seized upon by him for a sign or a name for sour; and so with other physical qualities. The deaf, dumb and blind child cannot hear your sound, cannot see your grimace, yet he perceives the quality of sweetness, and if you take pains to make some peculiar sign two or three times when the quality is perceived, he will associate that sign with the quality, and have a name for it.

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It will be said that qualities have no existence, being mere abstractions, and that when we say sweet apple, the child will think it is a compound name for the individual apple, or if he does not do this, that he cannot know whether by the word sweet we mean the quality of sweetness or the quality of soundness. This is true; at first the child does not know to what the sound sweet refers; he may misuse it often, but by imitation, by observation, he at last gets it right, and applies the word sweet to every thing whose qualities revive the same sensation as the sweet apple did; he then uses the word sweet in the abstract, not as a parrot, but understandingly, simply because the parrot has not the mental organization which fits it to understand qualities, and the child has. Now the transition from physical to mental qualities is very easy; the child has dormant within his bosom every mental quality that the man has; every emotion and every passion has its natural language; and it is a law of nature that the exhibition of this natural language calls into activity the like mental quality in the beholder. The difference between joy and sorrow, between a smile and a frown, is just as cognisable by a child as the difference between a sweet apple and a sour one; and through the same mental process, by which a mute attaches signs to the physical quality, he may, (with a little more pains,) be made to attach them to the moral qualities. There is not time however in this brief report to enlarge upon this point.

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Much surprise has been expressed by some who are conversant with the difficulties of the teaching, &c. of mutes, that Laura should have attained the use of verbs without more special instruction. It may be said in reply, that no minute and perfect account of the various steps in the process of her instruction has ever yet been published; and that moreover the difficulties in the use of the verbs are in reality much less than is usually supposed.

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As soon as a child has learned the use of a noun, as apple, and of one or two signs of qualities, as sour and sweet, he begins to use them; he holds up the fruit, and lisps out, apple -- sour or apple -- sweet; he has not been taught a verb, and yet he uses one; he asserts the one apple to be sweet, the other to be sour; he in reality says, mentally, "apple is sweet apple," or "apple is sour apple;" and in a little while he catches by the ear, an audible sign,-- the word, is, and puts it in where he before used only a sign, or meant to use one. Just so with the deaf-mute; when he has learned a noun and an adjective he uses them by the help of a verb, or some mark of assertion, and you have only to give him some sign, which he will adopt just as readily as the speaking child, by mere imitation, and without any process of ratiocination. We give too narrow a definition when we say a verb is a word, &c. I may be wrong, but it seems to me that the long, detailed, and very ingenious process laid down in some books for teaching verbs and other parts of speech to the deaf mutes, are worse than useless; they have excited much attention, and justly received much admiration for their ingenuity, but it is of the kind we should bestow on mechanical contrivances for imitating the human voice; and it would seem to be about as wise to teach a child to talk by directing him to contract this muscle, to relax that, and to place his lips in such and such a posture, as to teach a deaf-mute the use of the different parts of speech in the manner detailed by Sicard.

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But it would swell this report to a volume, should I pursue the same train of remarks with regard to the different parts of speech. Indeed I should hardly have hazarded it here had it not been for assertions, emanating from respectable sources, that this child must have some vision, or hearing, or some remembrance of oral language, since she has easily attained the use of the most difficult parts of speech, which cost so much labor to those merely deaf and dumb. It is needless to repeat what is so well known to hundreds, that she is totally deaf and blind, and has been so from her tender infancy.

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It will be observed by those who have had the patience to read the above remarks, that to the child with all his senses, the acquisition of a language, which has already been perfected by the labor of many successive generations, is an easy and pleasant task, and accomplished without any teacher; that for the deaf-mute the difficulty is increased a thousand fold; that for the deaf, dumb, and blind, it is immeasurably greater still; and that for poor Laura Bridgman it is even more increased by the fact that she has not that acuteness of smell and taste, which usually aid those in her situation, and that she relies upon touch alone. Nevertheless she goes on, joyously using her single small talent, patiently piling up her little heap of knowledge, and rejoicing as much over it as if it were a pyramid.

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Before proceeding farther, it may be well to explain what was said in a former report about Laura's making a peculiar sound, whenever she meets any person, which she calls that person's noise; and about which many inquiries have been made; especially as an important physiological inference may be drawn from it. When she meets me, one of the pupils, or any intimate friend, she instantly makes a noise with the vocal organs; -- for one a chuckle, for another a cluck, for a third a nasal sound, for a fourth a guttural, &c. These are to her evidently signs, or names affixed to each person. These are known by those very intimate with her; when they speak to her of such and such an one, she makes his "noise;" and these noises or names have become so intimately associated with the persons, that sometimes, when she is sitting by herself, and the thought of a friend comes up in her mind, she utters his "noise," as she calls it, that is, what is to her his name. Now as she cannot hear a sound, as she never attempts, like deaf and dumb persons to attract the attention of others by making a noise, it follows that, impelled by the natural tendency of the human mind to attach signs to every thought, she selects the natural vehicle for the expression of it, and exercises the vocal organs, but without any definite view of producing an effect. This would seem to prove, if indeed any proof be wanting, that men did not select vocal sounds for a colloquial medium, from among other possible media, but that it is the natural one.

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It may be remarked, in this connexion, that she laughs aloud, and more naturally than most deaf persons, and that she is almost constantly doing so. This is not checked at all, although it is not always an agreeable sound, because there is some danger that her pulmonary organs may suffer for want of that natural and healthy exercise which other persons have from speaking aloud. (1) In romping and frolicking she becomes quite noisy, and thus obtains some exercise for her lungs.


(1) I do not know what may be the physics of mortality among deaf-mutes, but I should infer, a priori, that they would be more subject to pulmonary diseases than speaking persons.

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Much attention has been paid during the year to improving her in the use of language, and at the same time to increasing her stock of knowledge. A useful exercise for this purpose has been to tell her some story, and to requie -sic- her to repeat it in her own language, after she has forgotten the precise words in which it was related to her.

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The following story was related to her one day:

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JOHN AND THE PLUMS.

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1. An old man had a plum tree, and when the plums were ripe, he said to his boy John,

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2. I want you to pick the plums off my tree, for I am an old man, and I cannot get up into my tree to pick them.

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3. Then John said, yes sir! I will get up into the tree and pick them for you.

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4. So the boy got up, and the old man gave him a pail to put the plums in, and he hung it in up in the tree near him.

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5. And then he put the plums into the pail, one by one, till the pail was full.

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6. When the boy saw that the pail was full, he said to the old man, Let me give you the pail, for it is full.

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7. Then the man held up his hand and took the pail of plums and put them in his cart.

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8. For, said he, I am to take them to town in my cart to sell them, -- and he gave the pail back to the boy to fill with more plums.

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9. At last the boy said, I am tired and hot, will you give me a plum to eat?

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10. Yes, said the old man, for you are a good boy, and have worked well; so I will give you ten plums, for you have earned them.

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11. The boy was glad to hear him say so, and said, I do not want to eat them all now. I will eat five and take five home to my sister.

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12. You may get down now, said the old man, for it will soon be dark, and then you will lose your way borne.

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13. So the boy got down and ran home and felt glad that he had been kind to the old man.

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14. And when he got home he was glad he had been kind to his sister and kept half his plums for her.

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The next day she was requested to recall it to memory, and to write it down in her Journal, and she did so in the following words:

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"An old man had a large plum tree, -- he had a little boy John; the man asked John to please to go up on the tree to pick many plums, because he was very old and lame. The man gave John a pail for plums. John put them in till it was very full; he said to the man, it is very full of plums. He took the pail up in his cart to sell them. John was tired and hot; he asked the man if he might take one plum. The man said he might take ten plums, because he was a very good boy to earn them hard. The man told m to hurry home. He ate five plums; he gave his sister five plums; he felt very happy because he helped the old man much, and made his sister happy. John was kind to help the old man; he was very generous to give his sister part of his plums. The old man loved John very much. If John did not hurry home he would have lost the way. John liked to help the old man well."

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It will be seen that she made some moral reflections of her own which were not expressed in the original story. It is desirable that every new word or fact which she learns should be communicated by her teachers, or that she should form a correct notion about it; but this, as will the perceived, is impossible, without depriving her of that intercourse with others which is necessary for the development of her social nature. The following extract from the journal of Miss Swift her teacher, is interesting.

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Feb. 27. When I went to Laura after recess, she said, I was very much frightened; Why? I thought I felt some one made a great noise, and I trembled, and my heart ached very quick. She asked me if I knew any crazzy persons, then altered it to craxey then to crazy; I asked her who gave her the new word crazy, she said "Lorena told me about crazy persons, and said she was -once- crazy; What is crazy?" I told her that crazy persons could not think what they were doing, and attempted to change the subject; but she immediately returned to it and repeated the question, have you seen crazy people? and would not he satisfied until I answered it. I told her I saw a crazy woman walking about; she said "why did she walk, how could she think to walk" -She detected here the imperfection of her teachers definition.- I told her they were sick, and became crazy; she said "who will take care of me if I am crazy;" I laughed at her and told her she would not he crazy. She replied "I said, IF." (2) "I told her I would take care of her if she would be kind and gentle to me;" she then asked, can I talk with my fingers; did you ever see a dizzy lady; how do you dizzy? Laura said she dreamed last night about her mother, and the baby, and talked with her fingers, as in the day time; I questioned her particularly on what she dreamed, but could not get a satisfactory answer.


(2) Let any one who has questioned the possibility of her forming a correct conception of this difficult word if, look at this form of expression, and find therein an answer.

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She wrote a letter to her father, and her mother of her own accord; that to her mother was as follows:

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"My dear, my mother,

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I want to see you very much I send much love to you I send ten kisses to my sister Mary. My one pair of stockings are done. Can Mary walk with her feet? Do stockings fit her? I want you to write a letter to me some time. Miss Swift teaches me. I want you to come to South Boston with my sister to stay few days and c the exercising the calisthenics. Oliver can talk with his fingers very faster about words. I will write a letter to you again. Miss J. and Dr. send love to you. Miss Davis is married, Mrs. Davis. She has gone to live with her husband in Dudley. Is Mary well? Is my aunt well? I send love to her. I will write letter to you soon some time. Why did you not write letter to me? I go to meeting every Sunday. I am gentle in Church with Miss Rogers. I am happy there.

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Good bye

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LAURA BRIDGMAN.

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She has commenced the study of geography, during the past year, and made fair progress. Having first acquired an idea of the points of the compass, and taken some preliminary lessons by bounding her schoolroom, the chambers, entries, &c., and then going out into the premises, bounding the house and yard, she was put to a map. But it will be more interesting to give some extracts from her teacher's journal, showing how she has is her time of study, though no words can describe adequately the eagerness of her manner, and the pleasurable expression of her countenance when she gets a new idea, and turns to hug her teacher, in her glee.

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Feb. 2d. She asked me if she was good yesterday; I told her yes, she had been good all the week; she said, "did I do any little thing wrong? " Continued the conversation on trades, and taught her the word furniture. When I was telling her what work milliners did, she said, "do milliners make stockings, -- milliners make stockings that have flowers on them? " At the geography our she asked me to teach her "above,"; -- meaning the chambers; she bounded, to-day, all the rooms on the second story, and remembered all of yesterday's lesson, without going to the rooms.

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In Writing, gave her a lesson on the board; she does not succeed so well on that as Oliver. At twelve began to tell her about seeds, and told her I would talk to her about what her father did, (he is a farmer.) She said, "how do you know what my father does? does your father do so? " No! my father is Dr. "Why is not my father Dr.? -- he gave me medicine once; was he a Dr?" Did not succeed to-day in getting her much interested in seeds. P. M. She worked very industriously.

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Feb. 3d. Gave Laura examples in the region, in hundreds and thousands, which she performed very well, and numerated correctly until she had the number 8,500, which she wrote 80 50; she hesitated, and said, "I think it is wrong," and enumerated; but it took her a long time to find how to alter it, -- when she at length succeeded, she said, "I was very sad not to know." Laura asked what cups and plates and saucers were; taught her the word crockery, -- "what are rings?" -- taught her jewelry, -- "what are knives and forks? " &c. Next she got her work box, for me to tell of what it was made; told her about the pearl with which it is inlaid, and the name of the wood, -- rose; she asked, of what the doors were made; told her pine; she asked, "why are pine apples -- pine? " -- she wanted to know who made the brass hinges. She talked about her locket, and wanted to know what color it was under the glass; told her it was black, -- "how can folks see through black?" In Geography, she bounds any of the rooms now, after a moment's thought, and seems to understand all about it; she bounded the house, with a little help; talked with her about the Point -- but she did not quite understand it. In Writing, she does very well when practising her letters, but when she has her journal, she is very careless; she wrote to-day an account of the different trades. In the afternoon she went to the schoolroom an hour, while a number of gentlemen were there; she amused herself by asking what the denominations were after millions; at last she set down a row of types the whole length of her board, and enumerating it found it was eighty quintillions, -- she asked, "what people live eighty quintillions of miles off? " and said, "I think it would take ladies a year to go so very far.

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Feb. 17th. Laura succeeded in doing five or six questions this morning. One was to find the age of a man, in which I gave her the time he had lived in several places. She said, "he lived in many places, I am not sure, why -- why?" She asked a great many questions about the party to which I went last evening, as how the ladies knew when to come, &s.; taught her the word invitation; she asked, "why did I not go?" told her she was a little girl, -- she said, "Doctor says I am tall;" but she was quite reconciled to it when I told her that the other blind girls did not go. She talked of her walk yesterday; she was much amused by walking on the snow that was crusted over, but not quite enough to bear; when she broke through, she would scream with delight, and pull me after her. She was quite puzzled to find the reason, and I told her if she would remember to ask me, I would tell her this morning.

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Feb. 15th. Found, to my surprise, that Laura could bound all the towns I had taught her, without the map, -- Roxbury, Brookline, Brighton, Watertown, and West Cambridge. I taught her, to-day, about Cambridge, Charlestown, Medford, and Malden. She was in excellent spirits, and takes more interest in this than in any other study. At twelve, took Laura to the stable, to show her oats and a half-peck measure; then to the store-room, to teach her Wine Measure; found a gallon measure and also a hogshead, tierce, and barrel. She readily learned their names, and how many gallons they would hold, and then, as usual, she wanted to go round to examine other things; let her see the coffee in a bag; sugar, salt, &c. in barrels; ginger, pepper, &c. in boxes of twenty- five and fifty lbs.; then starch in papers, and lastly she examined the tea-chest, box, lead, &c. I intended to have taken a part of this lesson on another day, but she was so much interested that I could not avoid her questions: deferred the review until another day.

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Here follow some other extracts, taken from different parts of the Journal:

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Wednesday. Laura practised some time in Arithmetic, but did not succeed quite as well as yesterday. She was much interested in an Algebra type, and was very anxious to be able to use it; told her I would teach her, when she was sixteen, all about it; "and can you kiss me then?" She said, "can you kiss sixteen young ladies?" meaning young ladies of sixteen. She talked about it some time, and expressed much fear that she should have to give up kissing and being kissed when she was older.

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Thursday. Commenced by telling her where Boston and Charles River were, and then attempted to give her the idea, that the map was small, and we could not have room to put on it all that was on the other map; and then of the number of miles from Boston to the mouth of the Hudson River, moving her finger from one to the other. When I had told her the distance, she said, "I think Miss W. lives there," -- and she was delighted that she had got so far from home.

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At eleven, gave her for a writing lesson, the story I read to her Friday noon. She said, at first, she could not remember it, because it was long ago that I read it; but she did very well. After writing it she said, "is this truth?" told her I thought it was not. "Is it lie?" tried to make her understand that it was not wrong to write it, but I doubt if I succeeded entirely. When writing she spelled the word bureau wrong, and when I asked her, why? she said, "I was very unremembered;" she knows the word forgetful, but wished to try to make one, and after she had done so she turned to me for approbation.

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It has been remarked that it was very difficult in the beginning to make her understand figures of speech, fables, or supposititious cases of any kind, and this difficulty is not yet entirely overcome. If any sum in arithmetic is given to her, the first impression is that what is supposed, did actually happen. For instance, a few mornings ago, when her teacher took an arithmetic to read a sum, she asked, "How did the man who wrote that book know I was here?" The sum given her was this: If you can buy a barrel of cider for four dollars, how much can you buy for one dollar? upon which her first comment was, "I cannot give much for cider, because it is very sour."

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She formerly talked as little children do, without using pronouns, but now she uses them freely, and her appreciation of them is proved by the fact that in talking with little Oliver, who is still in the very rudiments of language, she uses the third person, and says, for instance, "Laura is rich," when to another she would say, "I am rich."

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She has a keen relish for knowledge, which, mingled with a little self-esteem, would perhaps impel her to greater effort than would be consistent with health, if care were not taken to prevent it. One day she had been left in my library while we were gone to church; in the evening she appeared fatigued and complained of being unwell; she was asked where she had pain, an she said, "in my head; I slept one hour to-day, and then studied very much in books, and thought very hard." Upon inquiry, it was found that she had got hold of a Latin book, printed in raised letters, and had been puzzling over it, and worrying about it.

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She asked the meaning of many words which she remembered, as sed, non, est, &c. It was explained to her that it was in the Latin language, upon which she asked if' "the Dr. knew Latin;" if "Sophia knew Latin;" and learning that some others were as ignorant of it as herself, she was comforted. She understands that different nations use different languages, and was very much pleased at learning a few words of French.

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Words are to her always signs of something definite, and are taken in their literal sense; for instance, she supposed for some time after hearing about the generic word smiths, that blacksmiths were all black men, and silversmiths white men. Like other blind persons, she forms an idea, (vague, of course,) about colors; she thinks that black is a dirty color, and that the ground is black; another says that black is rough, while white is smooth, &c.

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If she is told the name of a person, as Mr. Green, or Mr. Brown, it excites a smile, or an expression of surprise. So where she meets a name, as Ox-ford, or Ply-mouth, she discovers a sense of the ludicrous in the unwonted use of the term ox, mouth, &c.

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She continues as formerly to form words analogically: for instance, having learned the word restless, she said one day when she felt weak, "I am very strongless." Being told this was not right, she said, "why you say restless when I do not sit still." Then, thinking probably of adjectives formed from nouns by adding ful, she said, "I am very weakful."

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Her insatiable curiosity often leads her to discourse about things, the full comprehension of which is far above her reach; and it is difficult to confine her mind to one point. If you are talking to her about lead, for instance, she will want to know about lead pencils, what would be the effect of eating it, about shot; then about birds, why killed, &c. &c. Talking about Houses she asked "where did men live before wood was made, and without floors? " Answer, in caves and caverns; "how many years did men live in caves? " No precise answer could be given, and she continued by asking "where did they live before caverns?"

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This ignorance of many things which are familiar to other children, causes her sometimes to appear childish in conversation. For instance, walking in the streets, she felt the ground tremble as a fire-company rushed by, and being told that some one's house was on fire, and men were running to help him put it out, she asked, "how do they blow?" -- thinking they blew it out as one does a lighted candle; and on an attempt being made to explain that the fire was quenched by water, she asked, why do not man put it out himself?"

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At other times her home questions manifest shrewdness, and show that she will not be put off with the ample affirmation of others. Her teacher talking with her one day about her doll, told her it could not feel; that flesh and skin had feeling, but not kid and wax. "But," said she, "why cannot man made flesh doll? " Where would he get his flesh was the anwer -sic-, "Take from cow," said she. Immediately afterwards, talking of horses, she said, "did you ever pat your father's horse on face? " Yes! "Was he happy? " Yes! "Did he smile?" No! "Then how did you know he was happy?"

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But I might fill a volume, (and perhaps I may, some day, for it would be useful to children at least,) were I to dwell upon the interesting particulars of the intellectual instruction of this child. I proceed, therefore, to some considerations more immediately connected with her moral nature.

66  

It is a remarkable and most gratifying fact, that she adopts and follows with greater readiness and facility any regulation founded upon what may be called natural minor morals, than one based upon mere arbitrary, social conventionalism. She does not forget or violate any rule of conduct in which the feelings or rights of others are concerned; indeed, she hardly seems to need them; but she is apt to forget such a rule as that one should not rise from the table until others have done eating. (3) Being once told, two years ago, that it was disagreeable to others to have her blow her nose at table, she has never violated the request since, but invariably gets up, and leaves the room for that purpose; while such a rule as that of using a fork instead of a knife, or of shaking hands with a person, would have to be repeated many times over.


(3) It may continually occur to the reader, that she has no means of perceiving things which I refer to, as passing in her presence; but her sensibility is so great that hardly any thing can occur in a room without her getting some idea of it. At table she always contrives to find out how many people there are; she knows when they have done eating; she can even perceive the slightest jar made by drumming on the table with the fingers or a fork. These things are so familiar that one forgets to explain them.

67  

As to cleanliness, modesty, sobriety, &c., she needs no instruction; she is always clean in person, and neat in dress; and the slightest exposure will call the blush to her cheek. She eats heartily, and often, but never over much, and drinks but very moderately the simplest beverage. She sometimes seems to be so full of animal spirits that it is difficult for her to sit with quiet or decorum; and if the weather be bad, and she cannot work off her excitement by exercise, she becomes nervous, or, as we call it to her, rude. In her teacher's journal, I find the following "Laura had a nervous day, and lost part of her lesson. Talking about some things she had done its the morning, she said, "What made me very rude? " I told her I did not know; she said, "I think I did not feel good in heart;" asked her why? she replied, "because I broke a door knob this morning;" I asked her if she felt good now; she replied, "I cannot feel good until I learn to be good."

68  

She seems to be one of those who have the law graven upon their hearts; who do not see the right intellectually, but perceive it intuitively; who do good not so much from principle as from instinct; and who, if made to swerve a moment from the right by any temptation, soon recover themselves by their native elasticity. For the preservation of the purity of her soul, in her dark and silent pilgrimage through time, God has implanted within her that native of modesty, thoughtfulness, and conscientiousness, which precept may strengthen, but could never have bestowed; and, as at midnight and in the storm, the faithful needle points unerring to the Pole, and guides the mariner over the trackless ocean, so will this principle guide her to happiness and to Heaven. May no tempter shake liar native faith in this, her guide; may no disturbing force cause it to swerve from its true direction!

69  

As yet, it has not done so, and I can recollect no instance of moral obliquity except under strong temptation. I recall now one instance of deliberate deception, and that I am bound to confess, with sorrow, was perhaps attributable to indiscretion on my part. She came to me one day dressed for a walk, and had on a new pair of gloves which were stout, and rather coarse. I begun to banter and tease her, (in that spirit of fun of which she is very fond, and which she usually returns with interest,) upon the clumsy appearance of her hands, at which she first laughed, but soon began to look so serious and even grieved that I tried to direct her attention to something else, and soon forgot the subject. But not so poor Laura; here her personal vanity, or her love of approbation, had been wounded; she thought the gloves were the cause of it, and she resolved to be rid of them. Accordingly they disappeared, and were supposed to be lost; but her guileless nature betrayed itself, for without being questioned, she frequently talked about the gloves, not saying directly that they were lost, but asking if they might not be in such or such a place. She was uneasy under the new garb of deceit, and soon excited suspicion. When it reached my ears, I was exceedingly panted, and moreover doubtful what course to pursue. At last, taking her in the most affectionate way, I began to tell her a story of a little girl who was much beloved by her parents, and brothers and sisters, and for whose happiness every thing was done; and asked her whether the little girl should not love them in return, and try to make them happy; to which she eagerly assented. But, said I, she did not, she was careless, and caused them much pain. At this Laura was excited, and said the girl was in the a wrong, and asked what she did to displease her relations; I replied, she deceived them; they never told her any thing but truth, but she one day acted so as to make them think she had not done a thing, when she had done it. Laura then eagerly asked if the girl told a fib, and I explained to her how one might tell a falsehood, without saying a word; which she readily understood, becoming all the time more interested, and evidently touched. I then tried to explain to her the different degrees of culpability resulting from carelessness, from disobedience, and from intentional deceit. She soon grew pale, and evidently begun to apply the remarks to her own case, but still was very eager to know about "the wrong little girl," and how her parents treated her. I told her her parents were grieved, and cried, at which she could hardly restrain her own tears. After a while she confessed to me that she had deceived about the gloves, that they were not lost, but hidden away. I then tried to show her that I cared nothing about the gloves that the loss of a hundred pairs would be nothing if unaccompanied by any deceit. She perceived that I was grieved, and going to leave her to her own thoughts, and clung to me as if in terror of being alone. I was forced however to inflict the pain upon her.

70  

Her teachers and the persons most immediately about her, were requested to manifest no other feeling than that of sorrow on her account; and the poor creature going about from one to another for comfort and for soy, but finding only sadness, soon became agonized with grief. When left alone she sat pale and motionless, with a countenance the very image of sorrow and so severe seemed the discipline, that I feared lest the memory of it should be terrible enough to tempt her to have recourse to the common artifice of concealing one prevarication by another, and thus insensibly get her into the habit of falsehood. I therefore comforted her by assurances of the continued affection of her friends, tried to make her understand that their grief and her suffering were the simple and necessary consequences of her careless or wilful -sic- misstatement, and made her reflect upon the nature of the emotion she experienced after having uttered the untruth; how unpleasant it was, how it made her feel afraid, and how widely different it was from the fearless and placid emotion which followed truth.

71  

It was easy enough to make her see the consequences which must result from habitual falsehood, but difficult to give her an idea of all the moral obligations to be truthful; perhaps however the intellectual perception of these obligations is not necessary to the perfect truthfulness of a child, for such is his natural tendency to tell the truth at all times, that if his education can keep him from the disturbing force of any strong temptations we may count upon his speaking straight-forward as surely as we may calculate upon a projectile moved by one force, going in a straight line.

72  

Words are the natural and spontaneous representations of the thoughts; the truth is ever uppermost in the mind; it is on the surface, it is a single object, and cannot be mistaken; but for a lie, we must dive below the surface and hesitatingly fetch up one of the many that may be found at the bottom. There is little fear of Laura's losing that character for ingenuousness and truthfulness which she has always deservedly possessed.

73  

There is more fear of her becoming vain, for it is almost impossible to prevent her receiving such attentions and such caresses as directly address her self-esteem. Some persons only feel, they never think; and they do a benevolent action to gratify some spontaneous impulse of their own, or to give momentary pleasure to another, rather than to promote his real welfare; and even some mothers seem to think more of the pleasurable gratification of their own blind feelings of attachment, than of the good of their children. Such persons, coming in contact with Laura, will contrive in some way by caresses, or by gifts, to show their peculiar interest in her. She is very sagacious; she ascertains that such visitors to the school are more interested in her than in her blind companions; and that they remain near her most of the time. It is difficult to prevent them making her presents, and in various ways showing her marks of sympathy which she may attribute to some peculiar excellence of her own. Then she must be allowed to visit, to have acquaintances, and to converse with all people who come in her way and who have learned the manual alphabet of deaf-mutes; in short, to run the risk of the disadvantages of society, in order to secure its obvious and indispensable advantages; and it will require constant care and vigilance to prevent her perceiving herself to be a lion, than which hardly a greater misfortune can befall a woman. That she has been so effectually preserved from this thus far is owing to the watchful care and almost constant attendance of her teachers; and now that by the liberality of individuals she has the entire time and services of a young lady of great intelligence who is devotedly attached to her, it is to be hoped that she may long preserve her present amiable simplicity of character.

74  

The various attempts which I have made during the year to lead her thoughts to God, and spiritual affairs, have been, for the most part, forced upon me by her questions, which I am sure were prompted by expressions dropped carelessly by others; as God, Heaven, Soul, &c., and about which she would afterwards ask me. Whenever I have deliberately entered upon them, I have done so with caution, and always felt obliged by a sense of duty to the child to make the conversations as short as possible. The most painful part of one's duty is often where an honest conviction forces one to pursue a line of conduct diametrically opposite to that recommended by those for whose superior talents and wisdom one has the greatest respect. It is said continually, that this child should be instructed in the doctrines of revealed religion; and some even seem to imagine her eternal welfare will be periled by her remaining in ignorance of religious truths. I am aware of the high responsibility of the charge of a soul; and the mother who bore her can hardly feel a deeper interest in Laura's welfare than I do; but that very sense of responsibility to God, and that love which I bear to the child, forces me, after seeking for all light from others, finally to rely upon my own judgment. It is not to be doubted that she could be taught any dogma or creed, and be made to give as edifying answers, as are recorded of many other wonderful children, to questions on spiritual subjects. But as I can see no necessary connexion between a moral and religious life and the intellectual perception of a particular truth, or belief in a particular creed, I see not why I should anticipate what seems to me the course of nature in developing the mental powers. Unaided by any precedent for this case, one can look only to the book of nature; and that seems to teach that we should prepare the soul for loving and worshipping God, by developing its powers, and making it acquainted with his wonderful and benevolent works, before we lay down rules of blind obedience.

75  

Should Laura's life be spared, it is certain that she can be made to understand every religious truth that it may be desirable to teach her. Should she die young, there can be no doubt that she will be taken to the bosom of that Father in Heaven, to whom she is every day paying acceptable tribute of thanksgiving and praise, by her glad enjoyment of the gift of existence. With these views, while I am ready to improve every opportunity of giving what she seems to need, I cannot consent to attempt to impart a knowledge of any truth for which her mind is not prepared; and I would take this opportunity to beseech those friends of hers, who differ from me, and who may occasionally converse with her, to reflect, that while the whole responsibility of the case rests upon me, it is unjust in them to do, -- what they may easily do, -- instill into her mind notions which might derange the whole plan of her instruction.

76  

The following conversation, taken from my minutes made at the time, will give an idea of the course of her thoughts on spiritual subjects. During the past year, one of our pupils died, after a severe illness, which caused much anxiety in our household. Laura, of course, knew of it, and her inquiries after him were as frequent and as correct as those of any one. After his death, I proceeded to break it to her. I asked her if she knew that little Orin was very sick. She said yes. He was very ill yesterday forenoon, said I, and I knew he could not live long. At this she looked much distressed, and seemed to ponder upon it deeply. I paused awhile, and then told her that "Orin died last night." At the word died, she seemed to shrink within herself, -- there was a contraction of the hands, -- a half spasm, and her countenance indicated not exactly grief, but rather pain and amazement; her lips quivered, and then she seemed about to cry, but restrained her tears. She had known something of death before; she had lost friends, and she knew about dead animals, but this was the only case which had occurred in the house. She asked about death, and I said "when you are asleep does your body feel?" "No I am very asleep." Why? "I do not know;" I tried to explain, and used the word soul; she said "what is soul?" that which thinks, and feels, and hopes, and loves, said I, to which she added interrogatively, "and aches?" Here I was perplexed at the threshold, by her inquiring spirit seizing upon and confounding material and immaterial processes. I tried to explain to her that any injury of the body was perceived by the soul; but I was clearly beyond her depth, although she was all eagerness to go on. I think I made her comprehend the difference between material and spiritual operations. After a while she asked, "where is Orin's think? " It has left his body and gone away? "Where?" To God in will . She replied, "where? up? " -pointing up.- Yes! "Will it come back?" No! "Why" said she. Because his body was very sick and died, and soul cannot stay in a dead body. After a minute she said, "is breath dead? is blood dead? your horse died, where is his soul?" I was obliged to give the very unsatisfactory answer that animals have no souls." She said "cat does kill a mouse, why? has she got soul?" Ans: "animals do not know about souls, they do not think like us." At this moment a fly alighted upon her hand, and she said, "have flies souls?" I said no. "Why did not God give them souls? " Alas for the Poverty of her language, I could hardly make her understand how much of life and happiness God bestows even upon a little fly!

77  

Soon she said, "can God see, has He eyes? " I replied by asking her, can you see your mother in Hanover? "No! " but, said I, you can see her with your mind, you can think about her, and love her. "Yes'' said she; so, replied I, God can see you and all people and know all they do; and He thinks about them, and loves them, and He will love you and all people if they are gentle and kind and good, and love one another. "Can He be angry?" said she; No! He can he sorry, because he loves all folks, and grieves when they do wrong;" "Can He cry?" said she. No! the body cries because the soul is sad, but God has no body; I then tried to make her think of her spiritual existence as separate from her bodily one; hut she seemed to dislike to do so, and said eagerly, "I shall not die;" some would have said she referred to her soul, but she did not, she was shrinking at the thought of physical death, and I turned the conversation. I could not have the heart to give the poor child the baneful knowledge before I had prepared the antidote. It seems to me that she needs not the fear of death to keep her in the path of goodness."

78  

It would have been exceedingly gratifying to be able to announce a more perfect development of those moral qualities on which true religion is founded; but it was hardly to have been expected; those qualities are among the last to develop themselves, and are of tardy growth; we could have forced them out perhaps by artificial culture, but that would have been to have obtained a hot house plant instead of the simple and natural one that is every day putting forth new beauties to our sight. It is but thirteen years since Laura was born; she has hardly lived half that number, yet in that time what an important mission has she fulfilled! how much has she done for herself, how much has she taught others deprived of most of the varied stimuli furnished by the senses, and fed by the scantiest crumbs of knowledge, her soul has nevertheless put forth the buds of the brightest virtues, and give indication of its pure origin, and its high destination.

79  

Respectfully Submitted,

80  

S. G. HOWE.

81  

APPENDIX B.

82  

OLIVER CASWELL.

83  

This blind and deaf-mute boy is now 13 years old, and his progress during the past year in the acquisition of language and of other knowledge has been very gratifying. He has been perfectly docile and obedient; and is one of the most sweet-tempered affectionate boys I have ever known. Since the first desperate resistance which he made to authority, he has never shown the slightest hesitation or even disinclination to do whatever I have required him to do, and he has also been obedient and respectful to those who have any authority over him. It may seem difficult to conceive how he should know those persons but he does know them, and cannot be imposed upon by his fellow pupils.

84  

He is rather lymphatic n temperament, and has by no means that rapidity of thought and action which characterises Laura in so remarkable a degree. But though very quiet in his deportment and slow in all his movements, his smiling and intelligent countenance gives him an interesting appearance, and his thickset frame indicates strength and endurance. The most remarkable trait in his character is his affectionate and cheerful disposition. He is a favorite throughout the house; every one loves him; every one gives him a kiss or caress on meeting him; and he greets all with smiles in return. He is uniformly cheerful, and seems to have that enjoyment of existence which characterises Laura, though unaccompanied by the keen zest that makes her buoyant, while he is only calm.

85  

He does not manifest his affection for others by those active demonstrations which she is constantly making. It does not seem a necessity of his nature to unburden himself by kisses and caresses to others; but he is evidently pleased at receiving them. And though he seldom returns them, still he is evidently deeply attached to many of the persons about him, and manifests his love and sympathy by natural language which cannot be mistaken.

86  

A great deal of time has been spent during the last year in communicating to him a knowledge of that indispensable site for the development of mind, arbitrary language; and he has profited much thereby. He acquires words slowly, and uses them slowly, but takes great pleasure in both processes, and has already made a considerable acquisition of words. For instance, here are some of his sentences as he made them early in the year. Wishing to inform his teacher that he had been out fishing with two persons, he said, "Oliver, fish, boat, Thomas, Bradford." Pointing out to his teacher a rat hole in the wainscot he said eat rat. Having made a little boat and rigged it with sails, he put it into a trough of water, and, blowing too hard, overset it, which he related to his teacher thus -- Water, boat, Oliver, blow, fall. Wishing to express the fact of witnessing a person sawing and cutting wood, he said, "Wood, saw, Thomas;" and "wood, axe, cut, Thomas." The slaughtering of the pig which he had been made to comprehend before he came here, and which was referred to in the last report, seems to have made a strong impression on his mind. One day he wrote down of his own accord "Pig, fall, knife, cut, leg, Oliver," which I interpret; the Pig fell down cut by a knife, and he, Oliver, used his legs, and ran away.

87  

The following extract from his teacher's journal shows the ease with which verbs are taught. July 15 -- "tried to make Oliver familiar with the use of a verb in connexion with adjectives. He asked for a cracker, I went with him to get one, and told him "cracker is round;" he smiled and nodded his head, as much as to say, I understand it. Afterwards he applied it to other things of himself saying "button is round, ball is round, &c." My former plan was to go on step by step, and give the different parts of speech separately, beginning with nouns, but reflection has convinced me this was wrong. Whenever the deaf-mute indicates through natural signs, assertion, negation, interrogation, quality, &c., then is the time to give him the corresponding arbitrary signs or words, which he by mere imitation, and without requiring any explanation, immediately adopts.

88  

When he was taught that persons have two names, he was very much interested and went on to ask the second name of all the members of his family, as John Caswell, Richard Caswell, &c.; but afterwards asking the family name of one of his school mates, which happened to be Caswell, he was sorely perplexed, and much of the value of the lesson was necessarily lost from inability to explain to him the apparent violation of a rule which he seemed himself to have established. He also inquired what was the second, or family name of cat, dog, &c. One of his exercises is when alone to put down words and sentences by inserting metallic types in the form of pegs into a board pierced with holes to receive them. He can write quite well with a pencil, but this method of putting down words with types is better, inasmuch as it enables his teacher to make him correct his own sentences. He generally puts down the words in what is probably the most natural order, placing the one of leading import first, as Jacket, Oliver, give, mother: that is mother gave me (Oliver) the jacket: the jacket, -- the principal object; to him, -- the second; given, -- the third; by his mother, -- the fourth. Having been drawn upon a sled on the snow, he said "ride, Oliver, Sled, snow, rope, Thomas:" that is Oliver rode on a sled on the snow, the rope held by Thomas: and fall, Oliver, sled, snow, rope, Thomas; that he fell from the sled on the snow, the rope being drawn by Thomas; the word significative of the leading idea coming first in each case. One chilly day he perceived that the dog was wet, trembling with cold; and on his teacher saying to him interrogatively, Walk? that is, will you go to walk, he said, walk, no, rain; and added, shake, cold, dog.

89  

Like Laura, and like all children indeed, he is very fond of using new words; his teacher having explained to him the word hurry, he amused himself during the rest of the day by saying hurry to every one he met, and pushing them along to show them how to hurry. Having learned a word, he easily and of his own accord makes various applications of it. For instance, having learned the use of the verb is, when his teacher caused him to shut the door, and then to spell door shut, he added, door is shut. He then took up an umbrella, and made signs to know what the cover was called, and being told, cloth, he said, "umbrella is cloth." Having fallen over a sled, and hurt his leg, he said to his teacher "Oliver, hit, fall, leg, sled, hurt; leg sore; Oliver blind;" that is, I hit, in falling, my leg against the sled, and hurt it; my leg is sore; I was blind.

90  

He is much inclined to frolic, and sometimes tries to excite laughter by saying extravagant things; as, "house can laugh" -- and then laughing at it himself; rolling a button on the floor and saying, "button can walk," He seems to understand readily that mere play is intended, when one holds him over a place from which he might fear to fall, or when one tells him any thing extravagant; but is inclined to put implicit reliance on what is said in an ordinary way. For instance, when I had gone away, to be absent as he was told, for two nights, but returned the next day, his teacher said to him, "Doctor has come;" he replied, "No! Doctor will come after one;" that is, after one night more: but, being again told I had come, he seemed troubled, and replied emphatically, (4) and with a look of reproof, "No! Doctor will come after one night; Rogers not know!" He understands when words are to be taken interrogatively, by a peculiar manner of using them, and will answer affirmatively or negatively. For instance, his teacher said to him a few days ago, "Did Oliver go with Bradford to see sister?" "Yes." "When?" "Yesterday," said he. He makes this visit weekly, and on a particular day, and said, "Oliver will with Bradford after five nights;" that is, will go with Bradford after five nights. Being asked, to see who? he replied, "Sister." He has learned to count pretty correctly as far as fifty but he always fives, (as the old form of expression is,) that is, counts his fingers; if he is counting leaves, for instance, and finds eighteen, he will hold up both hands, with the fingers spread out, then one hand with the fingers, then one with three fingers. His progress, however, is slow in this as in other studies.


(4) Deaf-mutes may be said to talk emphatically with their fingers; and it is very easy to perceive when Laura, or Oliver wish to lay stress on particular words.

91  

We have never had occasion to give him any lessons on propriety, either as to personal decency, or moderation in eating and yet in both respects his conduct is not only unexceptionable, but, as I think, remarkable. He is a very moderate eater, and chews his food very deliberately. He does not crave so much as most other children, hut is fond of odors, especially of flowers; and the pleasure which he derives from visiting a green.house seems almost equal to that obtained by persons with all their senses. He has a sense of property, and though not particularly acquisitive, asserts his right to his own, while he always respects the rights of others.

92  

I have said that he is cheerful and affectionate. There have been very few exceptions to this in his conduct. He has rarely shown marks of temper, and only when he had been teased or imposed upon, or thought he had been, and then he becomes passionate, and seems bold as a little lion. There is much manliness about him, and he takes great delight in those exercises which require strength and activity. In our gymnasium he is one of the strongest and most expert performers, leaping the bars, clambering the ropes, and swinging himself about in the air, with entire fearlessness. When injured, he bears it bravely; rubs the part injured, and conceals his emotion, or, if a tear is forced out, it is accompanied by a groan. He has a very strong frame, and is seldom ill; but when any thing ails him, he drops his head, sits quietly, or goes to bed, without any whining or any complaints. Sometimes, when he is grieved by a friend going away, he seems to be full of emotion, which, however, he conceals, though the tears sometimes trickle down his cheeks. He seems perfectly truthful and conscientious, though I am sure no one ever gave him any lessons upon the necessity of being so. Finally, without that remarkable degree of mental activity which makes Laura so apt a learner, he is in every respect a most interesting and beautiful boy, and it cannot be doubted that, by long and close perseverance in the course of instruction which has been adopted for him, his mind will be developed, and he will become an intelligent and happy man.

93  

S. G. HOWE.

94  

APPENDIX C. JULIA BRACE.

95  

This deaf blind mute, who became so widely known during her long residence at the excellent Institution for Deaf Mutes in Hartford, has been with us since April, 1842 and .It will be remembered that in the last Report a brief notice was made of her, though she had then been a pupil only a few weeks, and that much difficulty was anticipated, not in making her understand the connexion between arbitrary signs and things, and not in imparting to her a knowledge of many external relations, qualities, &c. which she did not possess, but from her want of interest in learning. She has, however, rather agreeably disappointed us in that respect, and she has kept up her interest in her new studies to the present time, being always pleased to learn a new word; but, unfortunately, she cannot remember the words any length of time. This is the natural result of the long inactivity of her brain, and of her having passed the age when the perceptive faculties are vividly and almost spontaneously at work.

96  

Following nearly the same course with her as with Laura and Oliver, she was taught to make the letters of the alphabet with her fingers, by taking articles having short names, as hat, pen, pin, &c., and putting the fingers in a particular position for each letter. These positions of the fingers thus became to her not three letters of the alphabet, but a triple sign for the object. Increasing the number of the objects, of course she gradually learned all the letters of the alphabet. She learned to combine these signs or letters in various ways, and can ask for many things, as mug, cake, bread, &c., but she does not like to do so if she can make herself understood by her old and imperfect signs.

97  

She has learned to use the metallic types with letters upon their ends, and can put down many words: for instance, her teacher gave her a piece of cake and spelled the words, Julia, eat, cake; after which Julia of her own accord went to her board and set up the words with her types, Julia, cake, eat.

98  

She was out one day this winter with the girls and her teacher frolicking on the snow. The day after she was in great glee at the recollection of it, and seemed by her sign, to try to recapitulate the events, and in her eagerness spelled on her fingers, "st fall snow;" st is an abbreviation of a person's name who was with her, and to whose fall on the snow she evidently alluded. It is perfectly obvious, therefore, that there was no natural incapacity for language, and that she might learn it now but for the long inactivity of her faculties, and for her possession of certain vague signs by which she can express some of her animal wants; for as to intellectual expressions she has none. Whether at her age, -- and from the limited advantage which she can derive from instruction, -- her guardian will consider it expedient to increase the necessary expense of the slow and tedious process of communicating knowledge to her, is very doubtful.

99  

As much has already been published concerning her, I shall not swell this report by dwelling longer on the case.

100  

S. G. HOWE.