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REMARKS.

THE Second Annual Report of the Board of State Charities of Massachusetts, contains many interesting facts and suggestions concerning the various classes who are dependent upon the State. With all that is said on the undesirableness of great Alms houses, into which the poor of the State are to be gathered and permanently supported, we entirely agree. We doubt the expediency even of County Alms houses, but think it far better that the needy and dependent should remain in the places where they were born or have lived, and be aided by indvidual -sic- or associated charity, as may seem best.

It is a question of great practical concern, and one by no means easy of solution, whether in our efforts to reform the vicious, we shall collect them into institutions established for their benefit, or endeavor to obtain for them an entrance into families, where the interest shown, and the instruction given, shall be individual and personal, rather than in the mass. There are evils connected with all boarding schools, as they are called, where the children are necessarily separated from their homes, and brought into one body or family. "Morbid tendencies" are not peculiar to those who have lost a sense. The tendency to idleness and vice is in every breast, and requires constant vigilance and the most effective surroundings to counteract it. A greatly exaggerated effect seems to us to be assigned in the Report to the mere "congregating" of persons.

"The hideous evils growing out of the old system of keeping men in prisons, shut up without separation, and without occupation, are too well known to need mention here; but it is not enough considered that the chief evils arose not from the men being especially vicious or criminal, but from the fact of their being congregrated -sic- so closely together." (p. 47.)

We had never supposed that the Roman soldier, to whom the Apostle Paul was chained for three years, was especially injured by being so closely associated.

In speaking of Institutions for the Deaf and Dumb, and urging their undesirableness, the Report makes no mention whatever of the dangers incident to large public schools, of corruption of morals, but places its opposition wholly on the ground that the "morbid tendencies" of the deaf are intensified by associating with each other. In a supplementary pamphlet of nearly sixty pages, from the same hand which wrote the Report, this principle is insisted on with great earnestness, and especial credit claimed for its discovery. That we may understand ourselves, let us resolve the "principle" into its elementary parts. First, then, the deaf and dumb have morbid tendencies; and, second, these morbid tendencies are intensified by association with others of the same class. -- Have the deaf and dumb these morbid tendencies? and what are they?

"The lack of an important sense," says the Report, "not only prevents the entire and harmonious development of mind and character, but it tends to give morbid growth in certain directions, as a plant checked in its upward growth, grows askew. It would be a waste of words to prove this, because a denial of it would be a denial of the importance of the great senses." (p. 52.)

That which it would be a waste of words to prove, must, we suppose, be admitted. There is, then, we must suppose, a morbid tendency in the deaf and dumb. But what is it? After all these graceful generalizations, which seem to hide beneath their folds some most important reality, we get this: "To be mute, therefore, implies tendency to isolation."(p. 54.) Tendency to isolation? To be mute is isolation. Tendency, if words are to have any meaning, implies an inclination or impulse towards something not yet done. But the isolation of the mute is a completed fact. There is no tendency within him to aggravate this fact, but, on the contrary, a most wonderful tendency which prompts him to remedy it and overcome it. Denied by his infirmity the use of speech, his desire to escape from isolation is so strong that he is led even to invent a new language, and to teach it to others, that he may be restored to society. A tendency to isolation in the deaf, viewed as something apart from the fact, is pure fancy -- a dream of a dream. It has no corresponding reality in any deaf-mute mind, but, on the contrary, his whole nature is constantly struggling to break through his isolation, and come into communion and fellowship with those about him.

May it not, however, be true that these very yearnings for society which prompt the mute to do so much, under such disadvantages, to enjoy it, will make him quite satisfied with the society of his deaf-mute companions, and thus practically prevent him from holding intercourse with speaking and hearing persons? If we should answer this question in the affirmative, we should not, by so doing, admit the operation of any morbid tendency peculiar to the deaf and dumb. It would be simply admitting that a Frenchman or a German, thrown by circumstances among a foreign people, with whose language he was imperfectly acquainted, would prefer to associate with his own countrymen, and for the simple reason that he understood them better. But, to meet the question fully and fairly, would it be better for the deaf-mute, were it practicable, to impart to him a knowledge of language without his ever seeing or talking with a fellow mute? Observe, we do not insist on the impracticability of the scheme, as requiring a teacher for each deaf-mute child; we propose simply to consider how the mutes themselves would be affected by such a course of education. We will take the deaf child at his birth, and carry him through the successive stages of a public Institution for the deaf and dumb, and thus discover, if we can, whether he is benefited or injured by associating, during the period of his instruction, with other deaf-mutes.

The evils of deafness -- we speak of it when it is from infancy, and total -- are, the cutting off the person so afflicted from the thoughts and speech of other men, and as a consequence, leaving his mind uninformed and blank. True, a child born thus into a family, will differ widely from an idiot. There is an inward force of nature in him, by which, all untaught, as he is, he will contrive to make his wants known, and will hold with his parents and brothers and sisters some meagre communication. Suppose, now, that another deaf child is born into the family, a case which sometimes happens; will the evils endured by the first be increased? Will his ability or disposition to talk with his parents, in his poor way, be at all lessened? Certainly not. And while experiencing no evil himself, he will prove an invaluable assistant to the family, in interpreting the wants of the younger deaf child. He will talk with this younger child in a language invented by himself, or by the two jointly, and thus these two minds, acting and reacting upon each other, will have more knowledge and strength, than either would have had if left alone in its infirmity. Children of educated deaf-mute parents are greatly in advance of other deaf-mute children. Not that they have been taught words, but because they could have the inquiries of their active minds concerning the mysteries of their existence, and of the world about them, intelligibly answered. But, it may be asked, do they learn written language as rapidly as those who have never been associated with other deaf mutes? Yes, far more rapidly. Why should they not? They have developed, discriminating minds to work with, while the others are almost in the feebleness and blankness of infancy. Children with faculties unimpaired, are more dependent upon each other for that general intelligence, and mental development which precedes and attends school instruction, than they are upon their parents. It is always regarded, and with reason, as a great misfortune to be an only child. No amount of parental culture and instruction, can make up that healthy growth and development which the society of other children gives. Deaf-mute children are as much benefited by the society of other deaf-mute children, as speaking children by that of other speaking children. The necessity being in each case, not that there should be deafness or hearing, but that those who associate should be children, and that they should be able to understand each other. As might be expected, then, in a Deaf and Dumb Institution, but a small part of the actual knowledge gained, is received from the instructors. It is a vast hive, where each is busy imparting knowledge to others. With minds so newly awakened, there is no end to the questions which are asked and answered. Passing events in the world without, are picked up from the newspapers and communicated to those who cannot yet read. Facts of Scripture history, prominent characters and events in the history of the country, and the various experiences and adventures of the children at their homes, are the topics of daily and hourly converse. To cut off all this intercourse, to shut out all the knowledge thus gained, would be an act little short of madness, by whomsoever it may be proposed. It has often been observed by our most intelligent instructors, that even in the case of those who, from mental weakness, gain but little knowledge of written language, the mental stimulus and knowledge gained by associating with the other pupils, has amply paid for the time they have spent in the Institution. But, it may be said, admitting all this, does not a residence of five or six years at the Institution, disincline and unfit the mute for intercourse with speaking people? Quite the contrary. When he came to the Institution he was an outcast from society; he could hold intelligent and extended intercourse with no one. At the end of the first year, he goes home to spend a vacation of three months. He is able to ask and answer many questions in written language, and he circulates through the neighborhood, eager to display his accomplishments. Each succeeding vacation of three months enlarges the circle of his acquaintances, and increases his power of intelligent communication, until at the end of his course he goes home, finally and gladly, to take his place in society, to which, by his education, he has been restored.

The writer of the Report and of the pamphlet, carries the impression, and the chief force of his reasoning rests on this impression, that in the method of instruction pursued at Hartford, the mutes are "permanently" associated together; "closely and persistently" associated: -- "There should be no attempt to establish permanent institutions for them," &c., (p. 53.) Now, all well informed persons know that the deaf-mute children are retained at Hartford on an average, not more than five years, and that nearly one-fourth of each year is spent by each pupil at home, in the bosom of his family. It might possibly be well to make the vacations still longer. It is to be considered, also, that after the period of his instruction at the Asylum is completed, he returns to his home, where he is of necessity separated for the most part from the society of other mutes, and passes the remainder of his life, laboring with and associating with speaking people. It is a fact, too, of which the writer of the Report seems to be ignorant, that the farther we carry the mute in knowledge and culture, the more dissatisfied he is with the society of other deaf mutes. He feels that they are childish and narrow, and he seeks the society of those who know more than he does, and can satisfy his thirst for knowledge, and at every stage of his instruction this principle is operating to draw him to those who hear and speak.

Institutions for the deaf and dumb differ also from all other public institutions in this: the teacher having but a small number under his instruction, not more than fifteen or eighteen usually, and teaching the same class several years, is brought more directly into contact with individuals, and exerts a greater power over them. The relation of the teacher is more nearly that of a parent, than it can be in other schools, and the affection, love, and confidence of the pupil, are fully met by the thoughtful ingenuity and incessant devotion of the teacher. But, is it not possible, some one may ask, that the mutes, by being brought together even for the short time necessary for their instruction, may, by constant contemplation of each other's calamity, and by constantly bewailing to each other their sad condition, settle down into a morbid state of melancholy and discontent, which will unfit them for the duties and labors of active life? No happier children can be found than those in our Institutions for the deaf and dumb; none more unconscious of personal misfortune. With rare exceptions, it may be said that the deaf and dumb mourn no more over the want of hearing, than speaking children do the absence of a sixth sense. They are not made unhappy by being brought together. They are not made morbid and dependent. Courage, and hope, and self-reliance, and a readiness to meet the struggles of life, grow stronger in them as their education is advanced, and the time of assuming personal responsibilities draws near.

Dr. Howe, in his generalizations, brings the Deaf and Blind into one class, and proceeds to argue as if what is true of one, must needs be true also of the other. But in the case of the Blind, there was never any imperative need of a public Institution for their instruction. In respect to knowledge, they differed but little from the thousands and tens of thousands in the land who though possessed of sight, could not read. A knowledge of letters is desirable for all, but of the thousands of Irishmen who crowd our shores every year, how few can read! We regret that they cannot read, but do not think it necessary to waste much sympathy upon them. It is not then the ignorance of the blind which excites our sympathy, and makes us feel that something must be done for him, but it is his helplessness, and, as we judge, his unhappiness. If learning to read will make him happier, we will sacrifice much to teach him. If learning a trade would give him occupation, and thus contribute to his enjoyment, by diverting his thoughts from himself, we would have him taught a trade. We see that he is dependent and helpless; we would gladly put into his hands the means of self-support. And from these compassionate feelings, and these hopes of alleviating a lot which all of us feel to be so sad, we send the blind child to an Institution where he can be taught to read and can learn a trade. Now it would seem from what Dr. Howe hints, rather than openly expresses, that some serious mischief results to the blind, from bringing them together; that their happiness is diminished instead of increased, by contact with each other; and he accounts for it by a philosophical principle, and forthwith applies the same principle to the deaf and dumb. How the facts alleged, or rather hinted, with regard to the blind really are, we have no personal experience to enable us to judge, but we do know that his principle has no applicability to the deaf and dumb. If the blind are not made happier by being taught to read, let them not be taught. With great deference to the superior opportunities of Dr. Howe for knowledge on the subject, if we were to suggest a remedy for the difficulty, it would be that the blind should be made acquainted with the cheering and comforting doctrines of the gospel. But, if we are correctly informed, no direct religious instruction is given them in the Institution under Dr. Howe's care. From the first establishment of the school at Hartford, it has been considered of indispensable importance that both superintendents and teachers of the deaf and dumb should be earnest religious men, and while no denominational peculiarities are taught, the great facts and hopes of the gospel are most assiduously inculcated. And the joy and wonder of the mutes, who come to the school ignorant even of the existence of a God, as the facts of Scripture history are unfolded to them, is most interesting to see. And in respect to clear and vivid impressions of religious truth, it may without fear of contradiction be asserted, that they are in advance of other children of the same age. From certain expressions in Dr. Howe's pamphlet, -- we hope they are not flings -- we infer that in the new system to which he would introduce the Massachusetts pupils, should they be removed from Hartford, religious instruction and services would hold a very different place from what they now do in all our Institutions for the deaf and dumb. "What constitutes an Institution?" he asks. "Is it being subjected to daily chapel devotions? Is it being taught a particular creed?"

Whether or not these questions are pointed at the American Asylum, it is of little importance to decide. Dr. Howe has, however, very serious objections to the Hartford School. He says:

"The Institution is strictly conservative. Its system of instruction, adopted fifty years ago, is still adhered to with few changes, and all proposals to modify it are stoutly resisted. . . Held fast by the anchor of conservatism, it breasts the tide of progressive ideas, which sweep by it. . . The great march of improvement in all other branches of instruction, affects not the method adopted at Hartford nearly half a century ago, and followed ever since, almost without change." (pp. 5, 57.)

If these allegations were believed by Dr. Howe, they convict him of inexcusable ignorance; if not believed, of, to say the least, criminal recklessness. But waiving for the present the question of fact, let us look at the intrinsic improbability of these accusations.

If the American Asylum were the only Institution for deaf mutes in the country; if for the past fifty years it had been under the same Principal, who controlled absolutely the system of instruction, both in its principles and details, then it might possibly be true that no change or improvement had been made. But the School at Hartford is only one of nearly thirty similar Institutions in the land, each eager to surpass in the race of improvement. It has had four Principals within the fifty years of its existence. No one of them has ever assumed to dictate absolutely as to the methods of instruction. On the contrary, the instructors of the different classes, most of them men of liberal education, have been encouraged to exercise their ingenuity, and stimulate their invention in the discovery of new and better methods. Regular meetings have been held by the Faculty, in which the principles and methods of instruction have been elaborately and thoroughly discussed. New thoughts have been constantly struck out by the different teachers, and by them subjected to the test of experiment. No less than five or six Conventions of teachers, from all the Institutions in the United States, have been held, in which papers prepared by the ablest men in the profession, have been presented, and fully discussed by the Body. The proceedings of these Conventions have been stenographically reported, and published. As the result of all this mental activity and inquiry, if may be asserted with confidence, that in no one department of education in our land, have there been such great changes and such great advancement, as in that of the instruction of the deaf and dumb. While the Institution at Hartford is the oldest in the country, and spares no pains to be the best, so far is it from having a system, which, like the laws of the Medes and Persians, alters not, that there are at this very time, six of its instructors who have been connected with other Institutions, and whatever they have learned elsewhere, they have been freely encouraged to adopt at Hartford. Is it an inexcusable vanity, that this large body of educated men, and practical instructors, should assume to know something of the subject to which their lives, and most assiduous industry have been devoted? Or is it another great "principle," till now undiscovered, that those who have had the slightest opportunities for information, know more about a subject than those who have given to it the thoughts and labors of a lifetime?

"The American Asylum," says Dr. Howe, "enjoys the monopoly of educating the public beneficiaries of all the New England States; a monopoly of which it seems to be very tenacious. . . . The Directors of the Connecticut Asylum, which has done so much for the mutes of New England, ought not to object to any change which will promote the interests of these unfortunates, even if it should involve the loss of a monopoly which the Asylum has so long enjoyed." (pp. 5, 58.)

Would it not naturally be inferred from this language, that it was a pecuniary benefit to the Asylum to receive and instruct the pupils of other States? Did not the writer intend to make this impression? "The American Asylum enjoys the monopoly of educating the public beneficiaries of all the New England States." The Directors of the Asylum are Connecticut men. They all reside in the city of Hartford. The Institution is what is called a Close Corporation, and yet these men actually pay out from the funds of the Asylum full $15,000 a year for the support of pupils from other States! If it costs $250 a year to board and instruct each pupil, the State pays $175, and the Asylum pays $75. And this is the kind of monopoly it has been enjoying for fifty years! The State of Massachusetts, having about a hundred pupils in the Asylum, actually receives from it $7,500 a year, towards their support. But how can this be? The Asylum, though chartered by the State of Connecticut, was at once endowed and adopted by Congress as a National Institution. It has, in consequence, permanent funds yielding about $18,000 a year. Of this sum, each pupil is made an equal participant, from whatever State he may come. Can there, then, be any possible pecuniary motive, which should make the Directors desirous of retaining the pupils of other States? Having faithfully administered this bounty for the fifty years which are past, they are ready to do so still, but self-respect requires them to say to each State, "Continue your deaf-mute children with us so long, and only so long, as, in your judgment, you cannot do better with them elsewhere. Whenever you judge they would be benefited by removal, remove them."

Is there any objection on the part of the Directors or Teachers of the American Asylum, to the establishment of a new Institution for the deaf and dumb in Massachusetts, or in any other New England State? None, certainly, on pecuniary grounds. The Asylum, though located in Connecticut, is, as we have seen, a National Institution. Its funds cannot be transferred to other schools, but must be used where they are. Suppose that the Asylum, just as it now is, were in Massachusetts, instead of Connecticut, would it be wise, in that case, for the State to withdraw from it its deaf-mute children, and place them in a new Institution, to be built and supported by the State? Is the number of pupils at Hartford already too large for the purposes of instruction, and the best arrangement of classes? It is not. On the score of economy of instruction and general management, an Institution for 250 or 300, has great advantages over smaller schools. In the last ten years, the average number in the Asylum has been 215. Are the buildings at Hartford too narrow, or incommodious for the accommodation of the present, or a greater number of pupils? They have not been so pronounced by those from other States, whose duty it was to examine them. Could the mute children of Massachusetts be better taught or cared for in a new Institution? They could not. It is to be added, that, if half the pupils should be withdrawn, not only would they forfeit their portion of the common fund, but the present buildings would be left, in part, deserted and useless. To what purpose this increase of expense, on the one hand, and this waste, on the other?

But will not a new Institution become necessary, at some future time, by the natural increase of population, and a corresponding increase in the number of mutes? According to the Report of the Board of State Charities, we are encouraged to hope that no such increase in the number of mute children will occur; more than this, that the time is coming when this unfortunate class of our population is wholly to disappear.

"The important points, however, are, that these abnormal conditions of parentage are not essential ones; that some of them are cognizable; that with wider diffusion of popular knowledge, more of them may be known, and that by avoiding them, the consequences may cease, and the classes themselves gradually diminish, and finally disappear. We have no deaf or blind domestic animals; and the generations of men need not forever be burdened with blind and deaf offspring." (p. 61.)

With such cheering prospects of the disappearance of the whole class, what shall be thought of a proposal, from the same prophet who foretells this millennium -sic-, for enlarged means, and greatly increased expenditures for the establishment of a new Institution for their benefit?

But a more serious objection to present action in relation to a new Institution in Massachusetts, is the utterly confused and unsettled and diverse views of those who are moving in the matter, as to the methods by which the deaf and dumb should be taught. The most prominent and persistent among those who desire a new Institution for deaf mutes in Massachusetts, is Dr. Samuel G. Howe, the Chairman of the present Board of State Charities, and Principal of the Institution for the Blind. For many years he has agitated this question. The successive Principals of the Asylum have formed with him a most intimate acquaintance, for almost every year they have been accustomed to meet him before the Legislature of Massachusetts as chief petitioner, or special advocate, for some plan by which the deaf and dumb might be withdrawn from the American Asylum. Some few years ago he was a petitioner, and a most active advocate, for a plan of collecting the deaf mutes in a village where they might be taught and enjoy religious worship by themselves. In his Report, as the Chairman of the Board of State Charities, he refers to this very movement as absurd, and imputes it to the method of instruction pursued in the American Asylum! In his anxiety to establish general principles, he condemns a custom of two or three years standing, by which some twenty or thirty deaf mutes natives and residents of Boston, assemble together on the Sabbath for religious instruction, and worship in the sign language, imputing this movement, not to a desire for religious instruction, but to a morbid tendency among the mutes to separate themselves from the society of speaking people. Dr. Howe says this without seeming to be at all aware that, even if all these mutes had an absolutely perfect knowledge of language, a public lecture given by spelling, would be most wearisome, both from its slowness, and the close attention required from the eyes. To writing on a large black-board, there would be the same objection. Why, then, should they be cut off from the enjoyment of that wonderful magnetic power which the human countenance, and attitudes in connection with descriptive signs, are able to give? Said a friend, the other day, who had been to see Ristori, and who understood not a word of Italian, "The expression of her face was the best of sermons." But Dr. Howe, in his zeal for principles, and in his desire to counteract "morbid tendencies," would cut off the deaf and dumb from this high pleasure, and, to them, most important means of religious improvement. Why do they wish to come together in this most unphilosophical manner? Because, he informs us, they have been taught in the American Asylum! There they were "congregated," here, in consequence, they "segregate." The opportunity to give, in his official capacity, a blow at the method of instruction pursued at Hartford, could not, it seems, be passed by:

"A society has recently been formed here among the mutes for public religious instruction in the sign language. Now, such an Association, surely, is not according to sound sociological principles. The tendency is to further isolation of mutes from general society. It promotes their segregation, and thus their formation into a separate class. Moreover, the desire, or the want of such a society, proves not only a mistaken system of education, but suggests that there was a mistaken method of instruction. If our mutes educated at Hartford had been taught articulation, and taught as well as children are taught in the German schools, they might attend public worship in our churches; they all would partake the common spirit of religious devotion, (which public worship does so much to strengthen;) most of them would seize the sense and meaning of the service and sermon; and the intelligent ones would catch enough of the words of the preacher to understand his discourse. This statement is not made hastily or thoughtlessly." (pp. 55, 56.)

The Principal of the Asylum, in his Report, very properly took notice of this remarkable statement, and exposed the absurdities of the system of articulation, considered as a general method for the instruction of the deaf and dumb. The work was thoroughly done. Dr. Howe, himself, seems to be of this opinion, for in his pamphlet, in reply to Mr. Stone's Report, he says: -- "The Board do not recommend that articulation should be taught. This is the false issue which the Principal makes."

"The friends of the system of articulation," says the Report of the Board of State Charities, "do not believe that it can ever have a fair trial in the Hartford School, because the Managers have the whole power in their hands, and being honestly and firmly wedded to the old system, will feel obliged to adhere to it. Such persons will therefore persist in efforts to obtain for the mutes of Massachusetts the benefit of what they believe to be a vastly better system of instruction." (p. 58.)

We suppose they will, and therefore we do not desire to see the poor mutes of the State, subjected to the wearisome torture of a fruitless experiment. What possible hope is there that if a new Institution were today established in Massachusetts, it would escape the persistent efforts of different persons to modify it, change it, and convert it to their peculiar views?

Suppose Dr. Howe were entrusted with the management, and should adopt articulation as his system; would the vast body of intelligent men in the State be content to sit in silence, and allow the money of the State, and the time and patience of the pupils to be wasted in such experiments? Suppose some one from Hartford were placed at the head, would it not be essentially the Hartford Institution over again, and so be exposed to the same objections which have been urged against the Hartford school for the past twenty years by Dr. Howe? The only practicable ground for the State to assume, in reply to these clamorous cries for her interference, is to say, as she doubtless will, "Gentlemen, until you are agreed in your plans, it is in vain to ask the State for aid."