exercise of the organs of sight and hearing, during a few months of infancy, modified the psychological phenomena afterward exhibited in Laura Bridgman's case. A metaphysical hair-splitter may say that, because she once saw and heard, she is useless as an instance of what would be the mental and moral condition of a person who had never done so; and he would so object, if she had used these senses only a few moments, instead of a few months. But most people will probably think that for all practical purposes the exercise which she had in the use of these senses was too small to have any practical and permanent effect upon her. All will admit, I think, that it must have been so with regard to what is most important, to wit, the effect of sensation upon the development of her moral nature.

Such considerations show, moreover, that the lack of one sense, as of sight, makes it utterly impossible for a person to attain complete knowledge of an extensive and subtle language like the English; that lack of hearing is a still greater obstacle, removing the sufferer still further from human society; and that the lack of both constitutes a gulf so wide that, unless bridged over, he must be an idiot at least, in the sense which the old Greeks attached to the word, idiwrns,—an utterly isolated being. It was then not without reason that Blackstone laid it down as a rule, that "a man is not an idiot if he have any glimmering of reason, so that he can tell his parents, his age, or the like matters. But, a man who is born deaf, dumb and blind, is looked upon by the law as in the same state with an idiot; he being supposed incapable of any understanding, as wanting all those senses which furnish the human mind with ideas."

It was not until she was full four years old that her health was so far established that the physican could be dismissed. But the nurse, could she ever be dismissed? Could a child totally blind, utterly deaf, completely dumb, and without any faculty of smell,-could such a child, with only the general sense of feeling, be left alone a moment? And how could she set about that apprenticeship which all must serve before they become masters of their own limbs ? These questions she soon solved by learning the geography of her chamber, then feeling her way about the house, and exploring all the recesses thereof.

Near by, there lived an odd, unyoked mortal, the "old bachelor;" a genuine type of a class, one of which is to be found in almost every neighborhood. He lived by himself, but occasionally went round doing odd jobs for the farmers, partly to help them, partly to turn an honest penny for himself. He was a rude, unlettered man; but his lonely self-reliance, and his entire independence of thought

and action, made him to be regarded as a sort of philosopher, with a crack in his skull. He was rough in look, and rude in manner; but, little Laura found under the coarse bark a kind and warm heart, which she contrived to touch, and from which there flowed toward her, as long as it beat, a stream of love and kindness.

He became interested in the little deaf, dumb and blind child; and, as soon as she could walk out, he used to lead her off into the fields and woods. They rambled about, hand in hand, and he contrived to interest and amuse her for hours together, without wearying her. The bare presence of one whose love she could feel by his gentle attentions, would have been enough to make the child happy; but, beside this, the simple man contrived to teach her much in various ways. She tells now, how he taught her the difference between land and water, by leading her to the brook-side, and making her put her hand in the running stream. She loved also to pick up stones, and throw them in, amazed and pleased by feeling the returning splash of water. The good man did not see how soon she would exhaust his resources. He had not the slightest idea of the importance of having some regular system of signs, by which communication could be established with her mind, and her growing thirst for knowledge supplied; and he scouted the notion of any body's being able to teach her more than he could. She knew him from any body else; and she knew a cat from a dog, an apple from a stone, and he could teach her any thing in the same way by which she had learned these things. He looked with great disfavor, therefore, upon the project of her going to school; and after she went he long mourned her loss. When, at last, she knew how to converse in English, and to write, he tried to be again useful to her, and to guide her mind. He began a correspondence, and sent her endless epistles, written in defiance of every rule and precedent in orthography, etymology and syntax; and containing the most extraordinary rigmarole about all manner of things, but especially about the vanity of book-learning. He was forced to grant, grumblingly, that something had been done for her in the way of instruction, but still he thought it a pity that she had been taken from him, who could have done so much more. His love for her, however, lasted to the end; and the child proved a blessing to the old man; and not one of his little early kindnesses was lost. May the grass grow green, and the birds sing blithely over thy grave, good Tenny, Laura's first and most loving teacher.

The first knowledge I had of Laura's existence was from reading an account of her case written by Dr. Mussey, then resident at HanIt struck me at once that here was an opportunity of assisting

over.

an unfortunate child, and, moreover, of deciding the question so often asked, whether a blind-mute could be taught to use an arbitrary language. I had concluded, after closely watching Julia Brace, the wellknown blind-mute in the American Asylum, at Hartford, that the trial should not be abandoned, though it had failed in her case, as well as in all that had been recorded before. Julia had the advantage of a fine organization, and had brought her senses of touch and smell to a marvellous keenness. It was doubtful which of them served her most. If the gloves of half a dozen persons were thrown into a hat, she could select out and give to each his own, by smelling the hand, and then smelling the gloves, until she perceived which one had the same smell. This is a lower degree of power, indeed, than that possessed by some animals, but it is easy to understand how much the exercise of this sense had helped, in countless ways to put her in relation with the external world.

It was rather a discouragement, therefore, to find that Laura had no sense of smell; or, to be more precise, only the latent capacity for using it; the organ of that sense not having been destroyed by the disease, as had those of sight and hearing. Julia Brace, like other blind-mutes, made constant use of this sense, scenting every new thing, just as some animals do, while Laura did not use it at all. I determined, however, to make an attempt to reach her mind through the one remaining sense, especially as there was something about her which seemed to give promise of her aiding the attempt as much as she could.

The loss of the eye-balls of course occasioned some deformity, but otherwise she was a comely child. She had a good form and regular features; but, what was of vastly more importance, there were marks of fineness in her organization; and the nervous temperament predominated. This gave sensibility, activity, and, of course, capacity.

I found that she had become familiar with much in the world about her. She knew the form, weight, density and temperature of things in the house. She used to follow her mother about, clinging to her dress, and feeling her arms and hands when she was doing any work. The faculty of imitation of course led her to strive to do whatever she perceived others doing, whether she could understand it or not.

She knew every one of the household, and seemed to be fond of them. She loved to be noticed and caressed; but, as she grew up out of infancy into childhood, the necessity of greater means of mental intercourse with others began to be painfully apparent. Endearments and caresses suffice only for infants. As the brain and other parts of the

nervous system were developed, there arose a necessity for the development of the mental and moral capacities, of which the former are the immediate organs. Her mind and spirit were as cruelly cramped by her isolation as the foot of a Chinese girl is cramped by an iron shoe. Growth would go on; and without room to grow naturally, deformity must follow. The child began to have a will of her own. The means of communicating with her were so limited, that she could only understand the pleasure and displeasure of others. Patting her head signified approval, rubbing her hand disapproval; pushing her one way meant to go, and drawing her another to come. There was nothing to reach the moral sense. The earliest exercise of this must be to reverence something; and all that Laura could revere was strength. Then, when thwarted, she began to disregard the will of her mother, and only yielded to the sign made by the heavier hand of her father. This was not laid upon her in anger, but its weight was not lightened, as was that of the mother by woman's timidity. It said plainly, "I am mightier than thou," and she yielded. This however could not have continued long without deplorable results. Laura's mother was discreet and kind, but so occupied by household cares as to be unable to study her case, or give her special attention.

It is often one of the parent's hardest lessons, to learn to yield up timely and gracefully the authority which was once necessarily despotic, but which should soon become responsible, and soon afterward be abdicated altogether. The inner man will not go long on all fours, any more than will the outer man. It will get up, and insist upon walking about. If it can not go openly and boldly, it will go slyly, and this of course makes it cowardly. You may as well refuse to let out the growing boy's trowsers, as refuse larger and larger liberty to his ing individuality. This however is too often done. Irreverence may, perhaps, be too characteristic of the youth of our country; but the cause of it is not always early rational liberty. On the contrary, there are many cases where that resistance to tyranny which is obedience to God, might have saved children who were lost by resorting to hypocrisy and cunning, rather than utterly yield what their instincts told them it was wrong to yield, though dignified by the name of filial duty.

To honor father and mother is a beautiful command; but it may sometimes be best kept by respectful determination to enjoy more and more of that freedom of thought and action, which is as essential to the healthy development of manly character as air and space are to the healthy growth of muscle and limb. It is often difficult for the

parent to hit the right mean, and to give up authority just as fast as the child can wield it, but no faster; for there should not be any interregnum.

She had begun to

It is easy to see that in the case of Laura, all these difficulties were greatly increased; and indeed, that they never would have been overcome while she was limited in her communication with others to the narrow sign language of the sense of touch. There could be little appeal to her intellect, none to her moral sense. manifest a reluctance at yielding up her will to the will of others, that would in all probability have grown with her growth and strengthened with her strength. There was danger of the necessity of a final resort to the ultima ratio of force, and this is usually demoralizing to both parties.

It is true, hers was a woman's gentler nature; but, to offset this, it must be borne in mind, that nothing can compensate for want of development of moral sense. That alone can properly regulate the development of the animal nature. Laura had the capacity, it is true, for becoming a gentle, docile woman; but she had the liability, also, of becoming a ferocious and unmanageable one.

Her parents, who were intelligent and most worthy persons, yielded to my earnest solicitations, and Laura was brought to the Institution for the Blind, in October, 1837, being then seven years old.

She seemed quite bewildered at first, but soon grew contented, and began to explore her new dwelling. Her little hands were continually stretched out, and her tiny fingers in constant motion, like the feelers of an insect.

She was left for several days to form acquaintance with the little blind girls, and to become familiar with her new home. Then the attempt was made, systematically, to give her a knowledge of language, by which, and by which only, she could ever attain to any considerable development of intellect, or of affections.

One of two ways was to be adopted. The first and easiest was to go on and build up a system of signs upon the basis of the natural language which she had already begun to construct for herself. Every deaf-mute does this. He makes signs for the things which he sees, and he addresses these signs to the sense which he has in common with you, that is, to your sight. He lifts his fingers to his mouth, and makes the motion of putting something into it, to show you that he is hungry or thirsty; or, he holds up one, two or five fingers, when he wants to express his motion of number. Hence, in old English, "to five," was to count; because, among unlettered people, counting was done by five fingers. You see children using their fingers to aid