proceeded out of his mouth, he did indeed, sometimes, exercising his power of searching the heart, assume the character and bearing of a judge, and pronounce, on some incorrigible hypocrites, a sentence of just and awful severity. And when your exasperationists can shew, that they have hearts as free from pride and passion as our Saviour's was; when they can show their commission signed and sealed in the court of heaven, or even a regular mandate from lawful human authority, to assume the office of judging and condemning their fellows, then let them do it. But till then, let them be content to imitate the example of their Saviour's humility, kindness, and forbearance-traits which characterize the acknowledged spirit of his holy religion. I do not deny, that in many hearts, there may be good motives-a portion of real benevolence, connected with this violent, compulsory mode of action; but there is too much. human passion mingled with the heavenly principle. It is not the most excellent way. In the economy of a reformation, there is quite as much need of the moderate, judicious, prudent men, who move moderately, judiciously, and calmly, as of those fiery spirits who throw themselves into the front rank, and make the most noise. The former are necessary to restrain the heated passions of the over-zealous, and give consistency and permanency to the results of their action. The latter may indeed reap all the honour of the victory-and they will certainly claim it; but the humble, benevolent Christian does not labour for present applause, or posthumous fame. Sufficient for him, that good is done, and men are happy.

ART. VIII. EDUCATION OF THE BLIND.

By S. G. HOWE, M.D. Principal of the New England Institution for the Education of the Blind.

To the reflecting mind, the benevolence of God is no where so evident, as in his chastenings; the wisdom of God is no where so striking, as in the apparent imperfection of some of his works.

Look at yon blind man, groping cautiously along his dangerous way, or moping listlessly from morn to eve in the chimney nook, eating in idleness the bitter bread of dependence, and waiting the approach of that premature old age and death, allotted to those whose physical powers are but imperfectly developed: look at him, with those bright and beautiful orbs, which now shew you a blade of grass, and now a distant star, and say, can benevolence have created so sad a being? Can wisdom have directed, where so much imperfection followed? Then think of all the advantages, the pleasures, the raptures which the sight brings to you. Think, how the glad soul sitteth at her bright windows of the body, and looketh forth upon the fair earth, which at every turn, like an ever-changing kaleidescope, presents new and refreshing pictures-how mind communeth with mind, as by signals from within-and how benevolence and cheerfulness, and hope, are reflected from the happy countenance of the truly good, and arouse benevolence, and hope in your own mind, and say, would you not have asked, with them of old, "Lord, who did sin, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" But again, think, that without pain there is no pleasure; that without objects of compassion, and the practice of benevolence, there is no growth of kindness and Christian charity in the heart. Reflect what a field for your own ingenuity and benevolence is presented in the very wants of that blind man; and more than all, look into his heart, and read in his contentment, a lesson to your own aspiring mind. Think of the kind compensation for the loss of one sense in the superiority of the others. Reflect, that if with his one poor talent, he doeth so much, how much more should you with your five; and if he is resigned, and even happy, be

you the more so, and acknowledge "that wisdom is justified in all her works."

The education of the blind, until lately, seemed to us a subject of intricacy and difficulty, equalled only by its interest. We say until lately, for a little reflection has convinced us, that the subject is a perfectly simple one, and that the whole secret of teaching the blind may be obtained by him, who will reflect that many avenues are open to the mind, and that with the exception of colour, all kinds of knowledge of the physical world may be obtained through the medium of other senses than sight.

As to the mind, and all its powers; as to the moral world, and all its beauties, who cannot study them with his eyes closed, or in his dark closet, as well as in the broad blaze of day?

For deaf mutes, we must invent a new language; and when it is afterwards perfected, still how imperfect is it; how limited is its range; how few of us learn it; and how like a man in a foreign country, and ignorant of its language, must a deaf mute ever be, among people who cannot talk with him by signs: yet, to what beautiful and useful results have we arrived in the education of this unfortunate class!

But how much broader is the avenue to the minds of the blind; how much nearer to us are they morally and intellectually; and how free, illimitable, and perfect may be our interchange of thought, reason, and feeling, by means of conversation, and by reading!

The deaf mute must ever carry his slate with him, as his imperfect interpreter. But the blind hears the lowest whisper, and judges by the slightest intonation. To him, silence is a black board, on which every sound or tone writes its distinct and legible mark; and his ear signalizes, with unerring accuracy to his mind, every note in the gamut of feeling, from the low breath of affection, to the stern accents of defiance.

How much is lost by the deaf mutes in the dark, or in the imperfect light of long evenings, when their signs can be but imperfectly seen and understood; while the blind are ever prepared for conversation and exchange of thought.

We know the world is full of bright and beautiful pictures. Now as we write, after having closed our eyes a mo

ment to reflect upon the situation of the blind, shut up in their dark cell of the body, when we turn toward the green grass and gorgeous blossoms in view, we feel a gush of inexpressible gratitude for the blessing of sight. Now can any one love, better than we do, to admire and adore the PowER which gave beauty to the rose and lilly, and its greater loveliness to the human eye and face, when radiant with health, and feeling, and intellect. And yet, lovely and rich as is the world of sight, to us the world of sound is richer and lovelier; and should we be obliged to choose, we would unhesitatingly prefer the darkness of the blind, to the dreary solitude, and unbroken silence of the deaf. We know there is a sudden shrinking at the thought of injury to the sight, and a shudder at contemplating the situation of the blind; but a little reflection, and a little attention to the comparative advantages of each class, would make all side with us. And to confirm this decision, and shew its wisdom, one has but to compare the blind and the deaf of his acquaintance, and think who are the most cheerful, the most intelligent, and the most agreeable.

It is only physically that the blind can possibly be considered as less favoured than the deaf and dumb; morally and intellectually, the advantage is immensely on their side; and their moral, religious, and intellectual education, is far more easy, and may be far more advanced by art, than that of the deaf mutes. But notwithstanding this truth, and the apparent fact, that their physical infirmity calls more loudly upon the community for aid in their behalf, than in behalf of the deaf mutes, who can learn a trade and gain a livelihood, there have been comparatively few efforts made in their behalf; and until within four years, our country, which boasts of some of the first institutions in the world, hardly knew that the blind could be taught in schools.

Within these four years, however, much has been done. Already one of our institutions, at least, offers advantages for the intellectual education of the blind, equal to any in the world, and the others are rapidly acquiring them.

It is not our intention to go into an elaborate detail of the system of education used in the institutions of Europe, and in this country, though personal observation of them all, would enable us to speak with some confidence on the subject. We shall merely give a general outline of its history; a rapid sketch of its character; and a notice of some

improvements made in this country; and then suggest some hints which may be useful to those who have the charge of, or are in connection with, blind children, distant from any institution for their education.

But first, a few words on the statistics of the blind: When we meet a person who was born blind, we are apt to think, and too apt to exclaim, "what a pity! what a misfortune!" Now, it is neither a pity nor a misfortune; but it is a part of a system of wisdom and benevolence, that there should always be such cases; and the proof of it is, that in all ages, in all countries, and under all circumstances, the laws of nature will have it, that a certain per centum of the whole population shall be wanting in sight, or in hearing. This per centum will be greater or less, partly according to causes over which man has no controul, and partly according to his observance of certain laws, a violation of which is followed, immediately or remotely, by deprivation of one of the senses. Among the first causes, we must rank soil and climate; among the second, occupation, over-exertion, accident, and, more than all, intermarriage with persons either blind or deaf, or strongly predisposed, by their physical conformation, to be

come so.

It may be laid down as a general statistical axiom, that the proportion of blind to the whole population, is greater in the tropical regions, than in the temperate zone; greater in all regions on dry sandy soils, than in moist ones. Unfortunately, no dependence can be placed upon the returns made by our censuses of the number of the blind in the United States. These give about six thousand; but judging from the result of some personal enquiries, and from comparison with the returns made in different countries in Europe, we say, unhesitatingly, that the proportion of blind persons among our young and vigorous population, is much less than among the older social families of Europe. Let this fact have its due weight, (for some it undoubtedly has,) and its proper bearing, upon the question of the intermarriage of relatives.

In Europe, we find it stated as an ascertained fact, that between the Mediterranean and the 50th degree of North latitude, there are almost twelve hundred blind persons of all ages to every million of inhabitants. Further north, between the 50th and 70th parallels, about one thousand to every million. The statistics of Denmark give us one to