Chapter 4

Julia Brace, a deaf, dumb, and blind woman, who died in August, 1884, in her seventy-eighth year, was well known all over America, at least wherever attention has been paid to the education of deaf mutes. In the year 1810, when about four years old, she lost her sight and hearing from malignant sickness. At that time there was no school for deaf mutes. It was not until after she was turned nineteen years that she entered school, and she remained there between twenty and twenty-five years. During her long stay at the school her case always attracted particularly interesting attention on the part of visitors. In many ways she could render much service in the daily work of the Institution. She could even distinguish clothes belonging to different pupils, and was therefore employed in sorting and putting them away. She had a good many curious and amusing ways. For instance, when girl-pupils, dressing, took their turns before the looking glass to comb up their hair, she always insisted on having her turn, and would stand there to comb hers like any one else. But one thing was noticeable. She had a very clear notion of her own rights, and would not allow any interference with them. Sometimes her idea of a personal right was rather out of a common course, but she had no question about it, and probably could not see how any one should have.

Her case is not to be compared with that of Laura Bridgman, who possessed mental powers of a higher order. She had not got the benefit of early, assiduous, and special care that was given to the latter, and probably she had a much less acute mental constitution at the outset of her education. Her education began late, and at a time when very little was known of the proper way of education for a case like hers; and she consequently did not make much progress in language. However, it has been found quite easy to communicate with her as to all the common events of her daily life.

"AN AMUSING STORY."

Here is an amusing story hailing from Munich. During the past year the professor of Aesthetics in the University, whose lectures are proverbially wearisome, delivered his lectures (as usual) to a scanty audience. There were five students in all, who, week by week, melted and grew "beautifully less," until at last but one was left. This solitary individual, however, seemed to concentrate in his own person all the diligence, application, and punctuality of his frivolous fellows. At the conclusion of the last lecture of the course the professor approached him and praised him for these admirable qualities, and proceeded to inquire of him, "What is your name, my young friend?" No answer. "What country are you from?" Absolute silence. The matter was soon elucidated, for it was discovered that the patient and persevering disciple was a poor deaf mute, who had taken refuge from the severe cold of winter in the warm lecture rooms of the University.

The following is extracted from "The Christian Leader":--At a Christmas competition of blind readers which took place on Friday and Saturday, 21st and 22nd December, 1883, in the Mission Hall in Bath Street, Glasgow, was found a blind deaf mute among the blind hearing competitors. Educated when young in the Institution for the Deaf and Dumb, he was able to do for himself until he lost his sight two or three years ago. He had then to make use of his fingers in reading as well as speaking; and in spite of the formidable difficulties in the way of his learning the embossed type, he made a most creditable appearance on Saturday and gained a special prize. The remark made by one of the examiners when this man was reading will, we are sure, express the thought of all who peruse these lines--"How thankful to God we ought to be for the use of our faculties, and especially for this precious blessing of sight!" This blind deaf mute is Mr. Daniel Hunter Ardrossan, one of the members of the Ayrshire Deaf and Dumb Mission.

A DEAF MUTE'S HEROISM.

About five o'clock on Sunday afternoon several gentlemen standing on Vine Street Wharf witnessed an act which was highly commendable. Thomas Hall, a lad of nine years, having strayed from his parents, was at play upon the wharf mentioned, when his foot slipped and he was precipitated into the strong tide of the Delaware. A deaf mute named Argus Cornish, an eccentric genius, who does odd jobs along the wharves, and who, an outcast himself, seems to take pleasurable pride in protecting others, and has already saved several lives, although standing with his back to the scene of accident, seemed, as his name implied, to have a hundred eyes. Without any hesitation he stripped off his coat and shoes, and plunging into the water, in a short time brought the boy safe to land. Argus' heroism should not be overlooked.--_American Paper._

THE RIGHT HON. W. E. GLADSTONE AND THE DEAF AND DUMB.

Mr. Gladstone, on being presented with the freedom of the Worshipful Company of Turners, gave an address from which the following is an abstract:--

I went a few days ago to examine the collection of works prepared at Messrs. Doulton's Pottery to be sent to the Exhibition at Philadelphia. Those works were delightful for the eye to behold. They were also highly satisfactory on the distinct ground that the price of production appeared to be so moderate; but, most of all were they delightful to me, because they were true products of the soil. There was a high faculty of art as it seemed to me developed in the production of those works, and that faculty of art had grown up in Lambeth. It was the Lambeth School of Art from which Messrs. Doulton derived an abundant supply of workers to whom they could intrust the preparation of those admirable objects. Among the works I would mention one. It was a beautiful piece of work produced by a youth who from his birth was both deaf and dumb. Now, consider what it is to be deaf and dumb; what a cutting off of resources; what a stinting of the means of training and improvement; and then consider, notwithstanding this, how it was through an inborn resolution in the centre of his being it was in the power of this lad to make himself a producer of works that could command admiration on the score of beauty, again showing how the energies, if rightly directed, can be forthcoming when required.

A DEAF AND DUMB GIRL'S DREAM.

(WRITTEN BY HERSELF.)

I had a dream on the 26th of January. I was going for rolls, and going back I met Gracie, a friend of mine, and she and I spoke quite well--we were not deaf and dumb. A poor boy, very ragged, carried a basket with some coloured glasses and stones, very bright, and some curious musical instruments that I had never seen before. He walked behind us, and he called to Gracie, and she turned to him, and he said to her that he wanted her to buy many of them; that they were a penny each. We took them up and looked at them, and they were very curious. She chose a bright red one for a brooch, and bought it for a penny. Then he said to me "Will you buy some?" But I did not want to be tempted to buy, and he told me a great deal about its very beautiful sounds; that it was more beautiful than all the others, and nothing could be more beautiful to hear in this world, and he showed me how to play on it, and we heard beautiful sounds. So I changed my mind, and wanted it very much, because I could hear it. Then I saw a policeman come up to us because he heard the beautiful music; and he laughed very much, and looked so very happy. I said to the poor boy, "Thank you very much for your showing me how to play on it." And he was very glad as he went away. Gracie went home, and I went home, carrying my glass organ with me.

The above appears to us specially interesting; it is a curious circumstance that a deaf and dumb girl should seem to hear sound in her sleep.

A DEAF AND DUMB COUNCILLOR.

Kapotrine Moller, a Russian Councillor of State, son of General Moller, and nephew of the tutor to the Grand Dukes Nicholas and Michael, has just died at the age of eighty-three. He himself, his brother, and sister were all born deaf and dumb. He was educated in the Deaf and Dumb Institution in St. Petersburg, rapidly learnt to read, and showed such ability that he was first admitted into the Imperial Chancery and afterwards into the Council of State.

DEAF AND DUMB BOY AND HIS MOTHER.

Zachariah was a deaf and dumb boy, thirteen years of age, who was being educated in an Institution for the Deaf and Dumb, after an absence of four years he went home to see his mother. When he entered her house, in company with his benefactor, she was sitting in a state of intoxication, which greatly affected him. He took his pencil, and thus attempted to show her the evil and danger of such conduct, and gave her much good advice. After retiring with his friend, at whose house he went to lodge, his countenance became very sorrowful, and the tears trickled down his cheeks. His friend asked him the occasion of all this, when he wrote "that he was thinking if he got to heaven how sorry he should be not to find his mother there."

SPEED OF MANUAL SPELLING.

In reply to a question "What is the number of words a good hand speaker can make or say in one minute?" A deaf mute says, "Take the average number of letters per word of the English language as five; this is the number decided upon by the Postal Telegraph department. The average of the Bible is about 4-1/8."

A good hand speaker can go through the alphabet ten times in one minute. I have proved this by personally testing several deaf mutes.

The pauses between words occupy the space of one letter each, so we must deduct one sixth of the whole thus:--

Letters in alphabet 26 Number of times spelt 10 ___ Total letters per minute 260 Deduct about one sixth for pauses 45 ___ Average letters per minute 215÷5 --- Result 43 words per minute.

PORTOBELLO SWIMMING CLUB.

On the mornings of Wednesday and Thursday the deep-diving medal of this club was competed for by five members. The depth of water varied from 13 to 18 feet. Mr. Robert Smith was very successful in recovering the plates from the bottom, bringing up six on the first and two on the second morning, with which number he secures first honours. The second place was taken by Mr. J. Wallace James. Mr. Smith, the medallist, is deaf and dumb.--_Scotsman_, Aug. 29th.

"DEAR TAMMAS."

A poor old deaf man resided in Fife; he was visited by his minister shortly after coming to his pulpit. The minister said he would often call and see him; but time went on, and he did not visit him again until two years after, when, happening to go through the street where the deaf man was living, he saw his wife at the door, and could therefore do no other than inquire for her husband. "Weel, Margaret, how is Tammas?" "None the better o'you," was the curt reply. "How, how, Margaret," inquired the minister. "Oh, ye promised twa years syne tae ca' and pray once a fortnight wi' him, and hae ne'er darkened the door sin' syne." "Weel, weel, Margaret, don't be so short! I thought it was not so very necessary to call and pray with Tammas, for he is so deaf ye ken he canna hear me." "But, sir," said the woman, with a rising dignity of manner, "the Lord's no deaf!" And it is to be supposed the minister felt the power of her reproach.

ROYAL SCOTTISH ACADEMY EXHIBITION FOR 1880.

John S. Rennie Reid, a young Aberdeen lad, now resident in Edinburgh, who, though labouring under the great disability of being deaf and dumb, has for some years back been an enthusiastic art student, has succeeded in procuring admission for three oil paintings, each of which gives good indication of his deftness and skill in the delineation of nature, and the ardour with which he has followed up his studies. "Hide and Seek" represents some children playing at that game in a hay field. "Largo, the Beach at Low Water" gives us a pretty coast scene, with figures on the beach. "Baiting the Line" is a very effective study of a common incident in fisher life.

IN DERBY POLICE COURT.

A few years since the Head Master of the Deaf and Dumb Institution at Derby was sent for, with a request that he would hasten to the police court to see what could be done with a little deaf and dumb boy. The sketch is a faithful picture of the little fellow as he stood in the dock charged with stealing. The police, in giving their evidence, said that many complaints had been made of the boy's conduct. One lady complained of his illusing her dog, another a cat, and another killing her bird; others that he was always throwing stones or stealing, and that he had actually tried to upset a railway train. It appeared that twice previously the boy had been taken up by the police, but owing to his tender age nothing could be done with him. The Mayor, addressing the Head Master of the Institution, said something must be done with the boy; unfortunately he was getting worse and worse; the case was a very sad one, the boy being deaf and dumb, but the public must be protected. The other magistrates present concurred with the Mayor's remarks, and after consulting with Mr. Bailey, J.P., Chairman of the Committee of the Institution, who was on the bench at the time, the boy was sent direct to the Institution, where food was given to him, after which his photograph was taken. The sketch given on the previous page is copied from it. The boy settled down, but not without giving considerable trouble; it was not to be expected that a boy, though so tender in years yet hardened in bad habits, should at once conform to the rules of the Institution. The teachers were not, therefore, greatly surprised to find him early one morning prowling in a quarter of the Institution to which he had no proper means of access. From time to time his teachers had difficulties to contend with not easy to describe. There has, however, been a gradual improvement in the boy's life and character. The sketch given above is from a photograph taken when the boy had been in the Institution one year.

AN INTERVIEW WITH LAURA BRIDGMAN.

We presume most of our readers will have read of Laura Bridgman, who is without any perfect sense except that of touch. A correspondent of the "Christian Union" gives an interesting account of an afternoon spent with her, from which we make the following abstract:--

If any one supposes that by reason of her deprivation she is queer or awkward in person or manners, he is altogether in error. There is nothing at all singular in her appearance. When I entered the parlour, a member of the family with whom she lives was playing on the piano, and close behind her, on a low seat, there was a very slight, very erect, quiet, self-possessed looking person, who seemed to be listening to the music, while her hands were busy over some crocheting or some similar work. She would have been taken for a guest who was fashioning some pretty article whilst being entertained with music. The expression of her face was bright and interested; and one watching her satisfied look would have been slow to believe that she did not hear. The green shade over her eyes indicated that she was one of the blind. She had on a brown dress, a blue ribbon at the neck, a gold ring and chain, and a watch or locket in her belt--a neatly attired, genteel, lady-like person, looking about thirty-five (though her age is not far from forty-four), with soft, brown hair, smooth and fine, a well shaped head, fair complexion, and handsome features. That was Laura. As soon as she learned that she had a visitor who knew people in the town where her nearest kindred live, she came swiftly across the room, leaving her work on the centre table as she passed it, and grasped my hand, laughing with the eagerness of a child. Then she sat down face to face with the lady who has charge of her, and commenced an animated conversation, by the manual alphabet, easily understood by one who has practised it; but the slight-of-hand by which the fingers of the friendly hostess, manipulating on Laura's slender wrists, communicated with that living consciousness shut in there without one perfect sense except of taste and touch, was something mysterious, inscrutable to my duller sense. Yet that the communication was definite, quick, missive, so to speak, manifest enough, for Laura's face beamed, and she was all alert. Partly by the letters and partly by signs she said a great deal to me. She "ought to be at home to be company for mother," she said; and, once or twice, she fashioned the word "Mamma" very distinctly with her lips. She asked if I knew a member of her family now dead, and said "that was a long year after Carl died." She seemed brimming over once with things to tell me, and wanted me to know about her teaching some of the blind girls to sew, which she takes great pride in, threading the needle, and making her pupils pick out their work if it is not done nicely. She is a good seamstress herself, does fancy work, and can run a sewing machine. Next, she caught hold of my hand and led me up two flights of stairs to her room to shew me her things; but the first movement was to take me to the window, where she patted on the glass and signified that I should see what a pleasant prospect there was from it. And there she, who had never seen or heard, waited by my side in great content while I looked and listened. Yet her face was radiant, and she stood there as if she both saw and heard. I wish I could bring before all those who are discontented with their lot, repining because God has withheld something from them or taken something away, the cheerful face of this lady, who has so little, but who accepts it as though she had all, who has never seen a human countenance or heard a human voice, who in the infinite glory and beauty of this outward world has no part, shut in by herself in that silent, dark, unchanging, awful loneliness. Next she showed me how springy her bed was. Then she took off my shawl, and showed me all the pretty things and conveniences she had in her room, opening every box and drawer, and displaying the contents. Her jet chain she laid against her neck, her bows and collars and embroidered hand-kerchiefs were taken up one by one, and deftly replaced in their proper receptacles. Her writing materials, sewing implements, little statuettes, trinkets, large Bible--I had to see them all. Lastly she took out a sheet of paper, pressed it down on a French writing-board, examined the point of the pencil, and wrote her autograph, "God is love and truth. S. N. Bridgman." And then from her needle-case and spool-box produced a cambric needle and fine cotton, and showed me how to thread a needle, which was done by holding the eye against the tip of her tongue, the exquisite nicety of touch in it guiding her to pass the thread through. It was done in an instant, though it seemed impossible to do it at all, and then she presented me the threaded needle triumphantly, having secured it by slipping a knot. Going down to the parlour again, she told me how kind it was in Dr. Howe to fit her up such a pretty room; and then I must go into the school room, whither she led me by the hand, and introduced me to several of her friends among the pupils, and when I took my departure she would have the teacher go with me to the door to tell me which car to take.

A DEAF AND DUMB BOY'S DEVOTION.

Under the trees standing by the left bank of the Thames, and sheltered from its waters by a mound of earth, is an old but comfortable boathouse. A few roughly-hewn steps lead from the mound to the water's edge, where some six or seven boats rock idly on the surface. Over the door of this tottering mansion hangs a wooden board, with the words "Timothy Gainsad" inscribed in large letters upon a black ground. A gush of light and warmth issuing from the door guides the weary traveller to a haven worthy of his choicest desires. Well can I remember the dark outline of St. Paul's Cathedral, lifting its rounded dome in massive grandeur to the skies, and the faint outline of the opposite bank shining dimly in the distance. I remember, when a lad of seven, a rich and influential lady coming down from Yorkshire to spend the winter months in London. She brought with her a dumb boy attendant, whom she had adopted and treated with the greatest kindness. One dark night she hired a boat, and rowed out upon the river. Scarcely was she lost in the river mist ere the flood gates of heaven were opened, the rain came down in torrents, the waves dashed against our rude pier and threatened to dislodge it, while now and then an occasional streak of lightning, accompanied by a clap of thunder, lit up the dark surface of the river. My friends had gone off in a boat in search of the lady, and I was alone in the room. Seated on a stool by the side of a blazing fire, I was reading an interesting novel, when the door was violently pushed, and the dumb attendant of the young lady rushed in, seized a life belt from the wall, and made for the door. I ran to intercept him; but guessing my purpose, he raised the stool and brought it down with a crash upon my head. I staggered back to the wall and fell, and he disappeared through the door. With a reeling head I tottered to the door, and looked out upon the river. "Great heavens!" I exclaimed, "he will be dashed to pieces!" For there, revealed by a flash of lightning, was the dumb boy, standing on the rail of the bridge, preparing to plunge into the surging waters below. A short distance from the bridge was the boat occupied by the terrified lady. It was fast sinking, and as he plunged from the bridge it sank. I saw him come to the surface, stunned and bleeding; I saw him raise the life-belt in his hand, and throw it to his mistress. She caught it, and his face lit up with joy; then--he sank! His mistress was saved, and some time after the dumb boy's lifeless body was washed to the shore, and laid in an honourable grave. Over it stands a beautiful angel of white marble, holding a scroll inscribed with these words:--"Here lies Gustavus Arisild, who died in the surging waters of the Thames to save his mistress."

THE DEAF MUTE'S FAITH.