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important phenomena your own. Do not hes- your curiosity on any little scientific question itate to leave the history of England for a which may occur to you in your reading or while, and glance over those interesting chap- your thinking, for in tracing it you may be ters in Gibbon, which describe the rise and drawn on to a love for scientific literature. progress of the Crusades. You will thus find Thus go on reading subjects, rather than volyourself engrossed in a work which you might umes. What your memory is not strong have approached only as a task, if you had enough to retain, note in a common place had no particular object in view. Nor will book. Preserve in this not only the choice your curiosity leave you here. New and in- passages you find in your reading, but espeeteresting paths will open in every direction, ially your own thoughts, suggested in conand invite you to pursue them to broader and nection with it. That was a good rule which more noble fields of research. Thus, without Gibbon observed, never to read a book till he any formal course of reading, your stock of had noted down what he already knew upon historical knowledge will become valuable and the subject. Thus his curiosity was kept al. available. At first, you will feel strong on ways alive by the comparison of what he particular periods only, but if you continue knew before with what the author taught. It the plan, you will be surprised to find after a is in such subsidiary works as these that you while all your knowledge closing together in- can practice patience and self-denial with a to a complete history. What you gain in this certain hope of a noble recompense. Patient way will have the advantage of being much study is sometimes required also in mastering clearer, and much more at your command, themes, such as abstract questions in philosothan that obtained in the ordinary manner. phy, about which we yet have a real curiosiBut there may be some who do not feel any

ty. It is truly wonderful to observe how a

| little patience, thus judiciously applied at the curiosity about historical allusions, who still wish to acquire a taste for useful reading.

right time, will spread a fresh zest and pleas

ure over our reading for a long time to come. Let not such despair so long as they take

If there were needed any other incentive to pleasure in any sort of reading whatever. Even “story newspapers,” and all that class

reading than the intrinsic pleasure of the purof miserable literature may serve a useful

suit, I could point you to many instances purpose in awakening your curiosity about

where high stations have been gained and held something worth knowing, if you are only

with honor by great readers. Without going

beyond our own time, I could speak of the earnest enough to gratify that curiosity while

present head of the educational department of it is strong. If you meet with some little gem

Massachusetts, who has fitted himself for his of poetry, which pleases you, do not rest till

position almost entirely by his private reading, you have found out all about its author, and

or of the present mayor of Providence, the his other works. Then very likely you will

auroral freshness of whose literary producbe tempted to read about contemporary au

tions tell of the early morning hours spent in thors and their works, and will be building up

the perusal of his favorite authors, or of the quite a knowledge of English literature with

« little giant” of Illinois, who, with limited out once forcing your reading farther than cu

| advantages in early life, has brought himself riosity prompts. In the same way, if you

to his present eminence almost entirely by his have a general desire to increase your scien- private application. The present president of

fic knowledge, do not hesitate to gratify lour University, perhaps more learned in phi

losophy and in theology than any other man 'Twas said by some that laughing voices rung in the state, has acquired the greater part of At the charmed night hour through its lonely his extensive erudition by the perusal of the halls, works in his own extensive library. The And fires arose upon the hearths where long chief justice of this state has become distin

The ashes had lain cold. Bright forms, the gay,

The loved of other years, clustered around guished for his early morning reading. Mr.

The well heaped board, and in their white robes Buckle, the last historical Minerva, has taken

held the reading world by storm with his refer

Their revels as of old. ences to six hundred works, which he has consulted in composing the first volume of

One lonely, sad old man, his History of Civilization. These are only The last descendant of a noble race, a few instances taken at random, but they are Dwelt there alone. 'T was a long story of sufficient to indicate the reward which results | The old man's wrongs. He had a daughter once, from a satisfactory answer to the question,

| A fair and gentle girl, whose love was more

To him than life. She was a dreamy child; " What shall we read?”

She saw a spell of beauty in each soft

And lovely scene in nature; the song-bird's note, For the Schoolmaster.

The hum of insects, and the joyous flowers, The Forsaken.

All had a charm for her unknown to other

Minds. Her's was the noble gift of genius; It was an old gray mansion

She would sit for hours in the old hall Dim with the shades of departed years.

Where the rich sunlight fell half lovingly The grass of many summers rankly grew

O'er some historic painting dim with age, Round the old door-stone where in former years,

And there recounting all her father's tales Bright children gamboled in their merry sport.

Of knights and warlike deeds, weave fairy dreams O'er the arched portal, and the turrets gray

Out of their wild romance. The very waves The wild vines twined in gay fantastic wreaths,

That beat their surf upon the sandy beach As if to hide their seeming desolation.

Spoke to her heart a deep and earnest language Not always was it thus : there was a time

Of joyous voices, and of sunny climes, In the gay olden days, when music thrilled

And childish mirth beyond the swelling sca. Through the long corridors, and merry feet

The full, deep passion of her early youth, Went bounding through its halls; the sound of

The tide of song which overflowed her soul, song

O'er mastered all her thoughts. In the rich light Arose from many voices, and the wine

Hope shed around her way, fair visions came Sparkled in splendor to the pine-knot's blaze.

Of all earth's glorious things — the golden fame,

Which was to her as sunlight to the soul,
But things were changed.

Bright hopes of future years. She left her sire, The heavy oaken doors no longer swung,

He who had loved her more than all the world, To greet the returning lord, nor gay plumes

To join in festive scenes of dance and mirth. danced

Yet there is joy in revelry and wine Within the courtyard now o'ergrown with weeds,

To charm away remorse. "The antique helms of chivalry still hung Upon the mouldering walls, and banners drooped

Oh ! 'tis a sad In crimson folds around the dusty pillars : And fearful thing to be alone; to feel But now no sound of song, of dance, or feast There is no heart in all the wide, wide world, Or childhood's merry mirth might linger there. To beat in love with ours. To him, the earth A shade of mystery wrapped the gloomy place; 'Was changed as was the faithless love he mournid,

Yet even now he smiled. “She will come back,” Shall the true peace be found. Only that faith
He said, “in golden autumn when the sheaves Which looks beyond the dim and shadowy vale
Are bound with songs of merry harvest home.” Shall list the soul to Heaven. Yet in that land
Alas! for human hope! that vainly thinks Seen dimly in our dreams, that better clime
To trace through darkening clouds a dawning Which lies beyond the atmosphere of graves,
day.

The father and the child shall meet again
Only within the far off better land

In those green meadow lands, by pearly streams The broken heart shall live and love again. Where angels strike their harps to deathless song

He, to whose love their lips first learned to pray, “ There was a church-yard

Shall give to them a crown of endless day., And an open grave." There was no pomp,

M. C. P.
No sable badges or funereal plumes.
It was the old man's grave, and who should care

For the Schoolmaster,
That he had passed life's bourne and slept at last.
The simple-hearted peasants reared a cross

Deaf and Dumb Institute, Indianapolis, Above his humble dust, and shed a tear

Indiana. For him who had no mourner.

BY JOE, THE JERSEY MUTE.

day

Long years had passed, The clinging vines had shed a deeper gloom I am indebted to Rev. Thomas Meintire, Over the portal of the ruined house,

A. M., the principal of the above mentioned No longer cheered by laughter or glad song. institution, for a copy of the “ Fourteenth By many a fireside hearth a tale was told,

Annual Report of the Trustees and SuperinA strange, wild tale, - how when the lingering tendent of the Indiana Institution for Educat

ing the Deaf and Dumb, for the year 1857.” Waned to its close, and sunlight tipped the hills

The report is replete with information of a With golden light or kissed in rosy streaks

valuable character. At page 2, we find the The bosom of the vale, in the lone hall

following order of exercises, as part of the The old man's spirit sought his long lost child. The moss had grown upon the ancient cross.

laws which govern the institution : Above the old man's grave, while tangled grass, The running ivy, and the golden rod,

* We are happy to give place to this brief noHad choked the flowers the pitying villagers tice of the Indiana Deaf and Dumb Institution. Had planted there. It was a glorious day | It will be intesesting as showing the character In golden autumn, such an one as that and exercises of such a school. Our readers In which the old man thought to meet his child. must have been interested in the several articles The murmur of the brook, the whispering leaves, which have appeared from the pen of our Jersey Mingled with all glad sounds of bird and bee, friend. We would assure them that these artiMade light and joyous music. A woman knelt cles were written - as indicated by the caption Upon the mossy turf, and bathed the stone by a deaf mute. The author is Mr. Joseph With bitter tears of anguish and remorse. Mount, a teacher in the Philadelphia Deaf and A shade of sorrow was upon her face,

Dumb Institute. He is, besides being a teacher, A shade they only wear to whom the earth a spirited contributor to several of our best Has been a weary place, a land of graves,

monthlies, both educational and literary. We Of secret heart-aches, and of blighted hopes.

commend his articles to all, with especial referIt was the old man's daughter. She had come

ence to the mode of thought of a deaf mute, and To find, where once was joy, a scene of woe. to the literary culture which can be acquired by Oh! not in scenes of revelry and mirth

one laboring under such difficulties.--ED.

WINTER

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SPRING.

P. A. Emery, teacher, per year, 600 “ To Cornelia Trask, “

300 “ Anna B. Very, " " 300 “ B. R. Nordyke, "

400 Cornelia Trask and Anna B. Very teach a kind of an infant school, judging from their wages; but they are paid on equal terms with many hearing female teachers. I happen to know something of Miss Very. She is a very well educated woman. May God bless her, and her fellow teacher, Miss Trask, also. Mr. Willard, if I mistake not, is the founder of the establishment where he is now employed. Appended to the report, is a large list of | newspapers and magazines which have been sent to the pupils gratuitously during the past year.

The principal's report sets forth the difficulties in which the institution was involved, in consequence of the failure of the legislature to make its accustomed appropriations in 1856. It was obliged to suspend, the pupils return

ed to their homes, and, to make a long matDivine worship is performed in the chapel

ter short, the cause of deaf mute education on the Sabbath at 84 o'clock A. M., and at

was involved in “ confusion worse confused." 2 P. M. There are no exercises on Saturday

But, thank Heaven, the institution after six afternoon, as in our institution.

months' suspension, has resumed operations, The corps of instructors consists of the fol

although it finds much difficulty in keeping lowing named gentlemen and ladies :

its head above water for any length of time. William Willard, (a mute); H. S. Gillet, In vie

In view of the distressing circumstances in A. M. ; W. H. Latham, A. M.; W. K. De

which the establishment is placed, it is not a Motte, A. M. ; Philip A. Emery, A. M. ; Cor

little strange that the trustees should have nelia Trask, (a mute); Anna B. Very, (a

the moral courage to mete out justice* to Mr. mute); and B. R. Nordyke.

Willard in the matter of compensation, withThe trustees place the mute male teachers out it

whorehout regard to that which constitutes his physon an equal footing with their hearing col-ical dete leagues, so far as remuneration is concerned :Mr. McIntire, the principal, is one of the for I find the following items of payment in kind who go about doing good. I wish him the trustees' report :

abundant success in the noble work in which To William Willard, teacher, per year, $1.000 he engages. IIe has a happy faculty for im“ Horace S. Gillet, “.

1,000 " William II. Latham, o 1,000 * In a future number I shall speak of the 1. Wm. II. De Motte, “

1.000' wrongs of the deaf and dumb as times go.

-
A. M.
Recreation,
Breakfast,
Recreation,

P. M.
Labor,
Recitation,
Rise,
Prayers,

Dinner,

Recitation,
| Prayers,
| Labor,

Supper,
!, Recreation,
i Study,

Retire,

parting instruction to the young minds en- So remarkable was Mr. Gallaudet's success trusted to his care. He talks of establishing in the sign-language, as frequently to astona high class, similar to the one which has been ish strangers, and we quote an extract from organized in the Connecticut asylum, his Memoir in his own words, in illustration of

The report contains much that is well worth his skill. One of his pupils was a lad of an attentive perusal. Page 43 is occupied much intelligence, with whom he made frewith short specimens of the pupils' composi- quent experiments to ascertain how far he tions, most of which show a remarkable com- could communicate ideas to him without the mand of language on the part of the pupils. use of words spelled to him on the fingers, or The following piece, written by a little boy of any signs made by the arms and hands, under instruction eight months,” strikes us as but solely by expressions of the face, motions excellent:

of the head, and attitudes of the body. “ A woman is churning. The mother goes North American Review. to get some salt. An ape comes to the churn, « One day our distinguished and lamented The ape takes a cat, The ape puts the cat in historical painter, Colonel John Trumbull, the churn. The ape runs and climbs on the

chimbs on the was in my school-room during the hours of tree. The woman calls the ape. She tries to

instruction, and on my aliuding to the tact whip the ape.”

which the pupil referred to had of reading my The report is accompanied with the manual

face, he expressed a wish to see it tried. I alphabet and numerals which belong exclu

requested him to select any event in Greek, sively to the language of the deaf and dumb.

Roman, English or American history, of a

scenic character, which would make a strikSign-Language.

ing picture on canvas, and said I would en

deavor to communicate it to the lad. • Tell FROM THE LIFE OF THOMAS H. GALLAUDET.

him,' said he, that Brutus (Lucius Junius)

condemned his two sons to death for resisting In the summer of 1818, a young Chinese

his authority and violating his orders.' passed through Hartford, and spent an evening with Mr. Gallaudet. He was so ignorant “I folded my arms in front of me, and of the English language that he could not ex- kept them in that position, to preclude the press it in his simplest wishes. Mr Gallaud- possibility of making any signs or gestures, et introduced him to M. Clerc, a deaf mute or of spelling any words on my fingers, and from birth, who did not know a single word proceeded, as best I could, by the expression of Chinese. No two persons, therefore, could of my countenance, and a few motions of my possibly be brought together more disquali. own head and attitudes of the body, to confied for colloquial intercourse. The result, vey the picture in my own mind to the mind however, surprised all present. M. Clerc of my pupil. It ought to be stated that he learned from the Chinese many interesting was already acquainted with the fact, being facts regarding his birth-place, his parents familiar with the leading events in Roman and their family, his occupations at home. history. But when I began, he knew not and his ideas of God and a future state. By from what portion of history, sacred or prothe aid of proper signs, also, M. Clere ascer.

fane, ancient or modern, the fact was selected. tained the meaning of about twenty Chinese From this wide range, my delineation on the words.

Tone hand, and his ingenuity on the other, had

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