the privation of the faculty of speech. The most general, or rather the sole cause of dumbness, is the want of the sense of hearing. The use of language is originally acquired by imitating articulate sounds. From this source of intelligence, deaf people are entirely excluded: they cannot acquire articulate sounds by the ear: unless, therefore, articulation be communicated to them by some other medium, these unhappy people must for ever be deprived of the use of language; and as language is the principal source of knowledge, whoever has the misfortune to want the sense of hearing, must remain in a state little superior to that of the brute creation. Deafness has in all ages been considered as such a total obstruction to speech, or written language, that an attempt to teach the deaf to speak or read has been uniformly regarded as impracticable, till Doctor Wallis and some others have of late shown, that although deaf people cannot learn to speak or read by the direction of the ear, there are other sources of imitation, by which the same effect may be produced. The organs of hearing and of speech have little or no connection. Persons deprived of the former generally possess the latter in such perfection, that nothing further is necessary, in order to make them articulate, than to teach them how to use these organs. This indeed is no easy task; but experience shows that it is practicable. Mr Thomas Braidwood, of Edinburgh, is perhaps the first who ever brought this surprising art to any degree of perfection. He began with a single pupil in 1764; and for some years past, he has taught many people born deaf, to speak distinctly, to read, to write, to understand figures, the principles of religion and morality, &c. This, at first sight, may appear to be altogether incredible; but the fact is certain. Mr Braidwood has, at present, a considerable number of deaf pupils, some of them above 20 years of age, all making a rapid Mr. Braidwood's principal difficulty, after he had discovered this art, was to make people believe in the practicability of it. He advertised in the public papers; he exhibited his pupils to many noblemen and gentlemen; still he found the generality of mankind unwilling to believe him. A remarkable instance of this incredulity occurred some years ago. A gentleman in England sent a deaf girl of his to Mr. Braidwood's care. A year or two afterwards, Mr. Braidwood wrote to the father, that his daughter could speak, read, and write distinctly. The father returned an answer, begging Mr. Braidwood's excuse, as he could not believe it; however, he desired a friend of his, who was occasionally going to Edinburgh, to call at Mr. Braidwood, and inquire into the truth of what he had wrote him: he did so; conversed with Mr. Braidwood, saw the young lady, heard her read, speak, and answer any questions he put to her. On his return, he told the father the surprising progress his child had made; but still the father thought the whole an imposition: the girl herself wrote to her father, but he looked upon the letter as a forgery. About this time the father died; and the mother sent an uncle and cousin of the deaf lady's from Shrewsbury, in order to be satisfied of the truth. When they arrived, Mr. Braidwood told the girl her uncle and cousin were in the parlour; and desired her to go and ask them how they did, and how her mother and other friends did. The friends were astonished, and could hardly credit their own ears and eyes.
We have conversed with Mr. Braidwood, concerning the nature and method of teaching this wonderful art: he seems to be very desirous of communicating and transmitting his discovery to posterity; but says, and, from the nature of the thing, we believe it to be true, that he cannot communicate it so fully in writing as to enable any other person to teach it. The first thing in the method is, to teach the pupil to pronounce the simple sounds of the vowels and consonants. We have even seen him performing this operation; but are unable to give a clear idea of it. He pronounces the sound of a slowly, pointing out the figure of the letter at the same time; makes his pupil observe the motion of his mouth and throat; he then puts his finger into the pupil's mouth, depresses or elevates the tongue, and makes him keep the parts in that position; then he lays hold of the outside of the windpipe, and gives it some kind of squeeze, which it is impossible to describe: all the while he is pronouncing a, the pupil is anxiously imitating him, but at first seems not to understand what he would have him do. In this manner he proceeds, till the pupil has learned to pronounce the sounds of the letters. He goes on in the same manner to join a vowel and a consonant, till at length the pupil is enabled both to speak and read.
That Mr. Braidwood is capable of teaching his pupils not only the mere pronunciation, but also to understand the meaning of what they read, may be ascertained by a conversation with any of his pupils. Of this Mr. Pennant gives a remarkable instance in a young lady of about 13 years of age, who had been some time under the care of Mr. Braidwood. "She readily apprehended (says he) all I said, and returned me answers with the utmost facility. She read; she wrote well. Her reading was not by rote. She could clothe the same thoughts in a new set of words, and never vary from the original sense. I have forgot the book she took up, or the sentences she made a new version of; but the effect was as follows:
"Original passage. Lord Bacon has divided the whole of human knowledge into history, poetry, and philosophy; which are referred to the three powers of the mind, memory, imagination, and reason.
"Version. A nobleman has parted the total or all of man's study, or understanding, into An account of the life, manners, religion or customs of any people or country; verse, or metre; moral or natural knowledge: which are pointed to the three faculties of the soul or spirit; the faculty of remembering what is past, thought or conception, and right judgment."
It is altogether in vain for us to attempt to say anything concerning the mode of operation. Mr. Braidwood undertakes every deaf person, who is not at the same time foolish or idiotical. The greatest misfortune is, that this art is confined to a single man, and that his pupils must live in the house with him for some years. The expense necessarily attending education of this kind, excludes all but people in opulent circumstances from deriving any advantage from it. Mr. Braidwood says, that the only way for preserving the art, and communicating it to a number, is to take people in the way of apprentices: this he is unable to do at his own expense. What a pity, that such a curious and useful art should live and die with a single man! There are many sums mortified in this kingdom, both by government and private persons, for less important purposes, than the preservation and extension of the art of raising a great number of our fellow-creatures from the rank of brutes, to that of reasonable beings and useful members of society.
Periodical Dumbness. In the Ephemerides of the Curious, we have an account of a periodical dumbness, which had continued for more than 15 years, and had not gone off at the time the account was wrote. The person was son to an inn-keeper at Jefing in the duchy of Wirtemberg in Germany. He was one night taken so ill after supper, that he could neither stand nor sit. He continued, for about an hour, oppressed with sickness to such a degree as to be in danger of suffocation. At the expiration of this time he grew better; but, during three months, he was much dejected, melancholy, and, at times, fearful. He was then suddenly struck dumb, and became unable to pronounce the least word, or form the least sound, though he could speak very articulately before. The loss of speech was at first instantaneous, and continued only a few minutes; but the duration of it began to lengthen every day; so that it soon amounted to half an hour, two hours, three hours, and at last to 23 hours, yet without any order. At last the return of speech kept so constant and regular an order, that, for 14 years together, he could not speak except from noon, during the space of one entire hour, to the precise moment of one o'clock. Every time he lost his speech, he felt something rise from his stomach to his throat. Excepting this loss of speech, he was afflicted with no other disorder of any animal function. Both his internal and external senses continued sound: he heard always perfectly well, and answered answered the questions proposed to him by gestures or writing. All suspicion of deceit was removed by his keeping exactly the same hour, though he had no access to any instruments by which time can be measured.