the deaf-mute that was wanted in the college, but the teacher f one who is essentially a hearing person; and that knowledge must be communicated there either by the manual alphabet or by writing.

But where I agree with him is, that when you have a public lecturer come to address your students, you want to give to all the intelligent ones the lecturer's ideas as closely and as perfectly as possible. In order to that end, we should have as perfect signs as possible, and as many of them as possible, to convey abstract terms; so that when he brings out a thought in abstract terms, we do not have to go to work and analyze those terms, but give each one of them directly, by a short sign. If the teacher should use strictly natural signs in translating the remarks of the lecturer, he would, while using an inverted order, be in danger of falling behind, being obliged to wait till the completion of a sentence before he could convey its meaning. If he resorted to dactylology, it is doubtful whether the pupils could follow the extremely rapid spelling that would be required; and if they could, they might fail to understand him. A single word, for instance, the meaning of which could not be easily divined from the connection, might, if unknown to them, prevent them from comprehending an entire proposition. This would not be the case if the words were given through signs in the English order. Being familiar with signs, the terms employed would present no difficulties to them, and having been instructed in the principles and general logical order of the English language, they would attach a distinct meaning to all that was said.

On this account it is my practice, in translating a discourse given by another, to use signs in the order of words, and I expect that all of the pupils who are above a certain plane will follow me easily. We have introduced, into the New York Institution, a great many abstract signs, and our pupils can understand what is said, very satisfactorily, by their use. Perhaps you saw, in my own translation a while ago, that I followed pretty much the order of speech, and that I also employed some signs that are not common. But when I am giving clause for clause, and word for word in this way, I am aware that many of our pupils attach but little signification to what is being said, and look on out of politeness merely. There is a class of them, however, that do understand it, and that would understand much of it, if given in language, without the intervention of signs. The place where the proper use of signs comes in, is not with this particular portion of our

pupils, but with the lower portion. And it is there, that I think I would differ with Dr. Gallaudet; I would try to give the signs in the way that they are accustomed to use them among themselves. If there are sentences that they can not understand, I would give the idea to them in signs that they can understand. There must be such a use for signs somewhere, or there would be no institutions for the deaf and dumb. I do not myself believe in explaining a lesson, and having the pupils commit it to memory, and recite it next morning from memory, but I believe in making them show me that they understand it; and it is the practice now for the pupils to translate the lessons into signs, and not for the teacher to do it. And I have gone so far as to say that the teacher's forte should be to comprehend the signs, and that of the pupil to make them. There are men in the profession who can express a great many ideas in signs, and who yet, when a deaf-mute talks to them' in signs, can not understand him. I think it should rather be the other way. The deaf and dumb pupil should be constantly called on to account for the faith that is in him, and to show that he understands not only each word but the whole of the sentence. Hence, with us, the lesson is read by the pupils, and the teacher watches all the time to see if they understand it; and if they do not, then he teaches them to understand it.

It is in this view, that the sign language is, as has already been remarked, a test of comprehension. If, in reading, the pupil confines himself to giving a sign for each word, we have no evidence that he understands the sentence, but if he render it into that form of the sign language in which he naturally expresses his thoughts, we are able to ascertain precisely what grasp of the idea he has in his mind.

Then we need to use the sign language in another way, and for another purpose; we want to see whether the pupils can express, in the English language, an idea given them through signs. For example, we tell them a little anecdote, or a short story, in signs. Now, if we tell it in the order of the words, all the pupil would do, would be to attach to the first sign the corresponding word; then, to the second and the third in like manner, and so on; and if he did that, it would not prove that he understood it at all. But, on the other hand, if, when the story is told them by signs, in the order in which they are accustomed to talk, they can then translate it into the English language, by considering what is the

to give the entire lesson in signs, having first written the lesson on the board. I do not think it is a good practice. If the child is answered by a different expression of the same thought in different language, so couched that he can understand it, in that simple act an evil tendency has been corrected, and a good tendency has been strengthened. The mechanical nature of language in the English order has been represented here to-day in such a way as might lead us to conclude that it is an objection to a language that it is mechanical. I beg leave to ask, what language is there in existence that is other than mechanical? How thought comes and goes, we can not tell, but we have what is sometimes called the "vehicle of thought;" it is language. I never heard of a vehicle that was not a piece of machinery, and language is pure mechanism, in one point of view. In proportion as it is a perfect machine, well oiled and having all its parts adapted to easy and rapid motion, in that degree is it language in its perfection. When we see a man whose thoughts struggle for utterance, and who stops and hesitates-who has to consider what words he shall choose-we oftentimes perceive that the majesty of thought is draggled in the dirt by a studied attempt at language; but when a man has only to say to his thoughts, move, and the mechanism of language bears them along we hardly know how; that, we say, is the perfection of language.

When we come to undertake the mastery of a foreign language, I claim that the best method of acquisition is that which is purely mechanical. I was once, myself, under the necessity of giving attention to German at a time when I needed to use it, and to use it at once. I entered on the study in a purely mechanical way--a way that the teachers of German in this country would laugh at as unphilosophical. I did not care about the philosophy of the thing; I wanted to talk with Germans; I wished to gain enough knowledge of some parts of that language to make it of service to me. So I procured a German teacher, required him to furnish me. such German in sentences as I knew I should have to use directly; and he gave me such sentences. I had before me a German lesson and its pronunciation; I would take a sentence and read it over to myself again and again; then lay the book down and try to pronounce what I had just read; I could not start the first word. Then I would take up the book and read again, and again try to pronounce the German sentence. This process I repeated until at last I would be able to take up the sentence and run through it

from beginning to end, without stopping once to think what the grammatical structure or the syntax of it was. I knew, however, that when I rang the door-bell of an institution for the deaf and dumb, called for the officer in charge of that institution, and wanted to ask him about anything connected with his institution, I had sentences at my control, of which I was absolutely certain; and those sentences I could employ without any more reflection as to what words I should use than if using English sentences. Now, I claim that that knowledge of German was absolutely and purely mechanical. I did not attempt to acquire the principles of the German language; I knew that certain sounds that I had learned, parrot-like, would convey, with precision, the idea that I wished to convey, and that was all. And yet this parrot-like use of language is the one that we are pursuing every day. We do not stop to inquire what language we are using. As I went on in this course of study it became easier and easier, and I, by and by, found myself capable, to an astonishing degree, of communicating thought and receiving thought from others, from that purely mechanical acquisition of a very small part of the German language. Observe, now, the application of this to the case of the deaf and dumb. I send my deaf-mute child to an institution for the deaf and dumb; I want it there to master the English language. The use of the sign language, except in those cases where it is absolutely essential, and best for the attainment of this other end, is pernicious. It hurts; it pulls down; it undoes; it brings forth groans and grunts, and expressions of dissatisfaction and disappointment from teachers. We have then to go to work, after all, and undo our work, and try to arrive at the desired result in a different way.

I had no idea, when I arose, of extending my remarks so far. The discussion, I trust, may go on; and I have only this thought more to utter: That I have never yet seen anything that led me to think that the sign language, used in the order of the English language, was less expressive, or less clear, or conveyed a less clear idea to the mind, than when used in that order which is called the natural order of thought. I have asked the question many times of our students, and the answer has been, so far as I remember, without exception, that they preferred to be addressed in the order of the English language-that in being thus addressed they gain a better idea of what is being said. Of course, there are young men who have attained, notwithstanding the diffi

seems, for other reasons, to be a good place to put them, or because there seems to be a difficulty in finding any other place for them, or because it is hoped that they will exert a good moral influence there. The teacher of a High Class deserves to have placed under his charge only those who have good minds. He has time to attend to no others. The amount of personal supervision which the best deaf-mute pupils need, to secure a degree of progress proportionate to that made by the same class of speaking and hearing minds, is a sufficient reason why the teacher's labors should not be expended on any who are unable to take a creditable stand in the class.

In regard to the amount of knowledge to be required of the canditates for a High Class, no unvarying standard can be set up. Pupils of superior minds can be trusted to make up some deficiencies in their preparation; but the candidates for such a class ought to be familiar with geography, the history of the United States, the fundamental rules of arithmetic, and have also some acquaintance with the principles of fractions and their ordinary applications. But, above all, it is important that the candidates for a High Class should possess a mastery of the English language sufficient to enable them to understand books written in an easy style, and to express their own ideas on all simple and common matters with grammatical correctness. But some degree of caution should be exercised in making the correct use of language a decisive test of admission to a High Class; for it often happens that pupils of small powers and smaller acquirements, though losing their hearing at a later period of their childhood, are able to use the simpler forms of the English language with much more correctness than many of their fellows who have far more natural ability. Should these weak-minded semi-mutes get rapidly promoted in the school on account of their familiarity with simple forms of language, they may unexpectedly appear as candidates for the High Class, and perchance be elected, when their real qualifications give them no sort of claim. I think that experience proves that semi-mutes of inferior mental vigor make small progress in mastering the more difficult forms of language, so that, in practice, they get little above the range of the language they have learned through the ear.

In the qualifications of candidates for a High Class, next to mental ability and knowledge of language, I should reckon fondness for study and power of application. These are certainly very desirable qualifications. But a low degree of manifestation of them, at some