Scenes in my Native Land/Prayers of the Deaf and Dumb
PRAYERS OF THE DEAF AND DUMB.
If sweet it is to see the babe
Kneel by its mother's side.
And lisp its brief and holy prayer,
At hush of eventide,—
And sweet to mark the blooming youth
'Neath morning's purple ray,
Breathe incense of the heart to Him,
Who ruleth night and day,—
How doth the bosom's secret pulse
With strong emotion swell,
And tender pitying thoughts awake,
Which language may not tell,—
When yon mute train who meekly bow
Beneath affliction's rod,
Whose lip no utterance hath for man,
Pour forth the soul to God.
They have no garment for the thought
That springs to meet its Sire,
No tone to flush the glowing cheek,
Or fan Devotion's fire;
Yet upward to the Eternal Throne
The spirit's sigh may soar,
As sure as if the wing of speech
Its hallowed burden bore.
Were language theirs, perchance their tale
Of treasured grief or fear,
Might cold or unresponsive fall
Even on a brother's ear,—
So may they grave upon their minds
In youth's unfolding day,
'T is better to commune with Heaven
Than with their kindred clay.
The pomp of words may sometimes clog
The ethereal spirit's flight,
But in the silence of their souls
Burns one long Sabbath light,—
If God doth in that temple dwell,
Their fancied loss is gain;
Ye perfect listeners to His voice!
Say, is our pity vain?
The American Asylum for the deaf and dumb, is a large and commodious edifice, in a commanding situation, at a short distance from the city of Hartford, in Connecticut.
It has in front a spacious area, planted with young trees; and the principal avenue of approach is bordered with flowers. In its rear are work-shops, where the pupils can obtain useful exercise for a portion of the interval not occupied in study. As all of these establishments are under the direction of experienced masters, it is not one of the slightest advantages of the Institution, that a trade may be thus readily acquired, giving the means of future subsistence.
In the building are eight recitation rooms, where the different classes, arranged according to grades of proficiency, daily assemble under their respective teachers; each pupil writing the lesson, from their dictation, upon a large slate resting its frame against the wall. The fixedness of attention which they display is usually remarked by visitants; while the regret which many of them testify when the hour of dismissal arrives, proves with what satisfaction the light of knowledge fills their long benighted minds.
In the upper story is a dormitory for boys, one hundred and thirty feet in length, and fifty in breadth, from whose windows, on each of the four sides, are splendid prospects of a rich and beautifully varied country. Under the same roof is the chapel, where, every Sunday, portions of Scripture are explained, and religious instruction given by the teachers. There, also, the daily morning and evening devotions are performed. It is touching, even to tears, to see the earnest attention of that group of silent beings, the soul, as it were, sitting on the eye, while they watch every movement and sign of his hand, who is their medium of communication with the Father of Spirits.
The Asylum is under the superintendence of a Principal, eight teachers, a steward, and matron. With regard to its course of instruction, it has been the wise policy of the Directors, "to procure the services of such men, and such only, as are willing to devote themselves permanently and entirely to this profession. It has also been their wish to hold out inducements to men of character, talent, and liberal education, which should lead them to engage in a life-long service. Exerting their main strength day after day in this one employment, and not having their thoughts divided by any ulterior plans of life, the chance is greater that their duties will be faithfully performed, and that the experience which they acquire, as one year follows another, in the difficult art of deaf-mute instruction, will render their services of more value to -the Asylum, than those of a merely transient teacher could be expected to possess." Seven years are considered the full term for a course of education here, and it is a cause of regret that so few remain during the whole of that period.
The female pupils, out of school hours, are occupied in various feminine employments, under the charge of the matron. Gathered into the same fold, and cheered by her kind patronage, sits the deaf, dumb, and blind girl, often busy with her needle, for whose guidance her exceedingly acute sense of feeling suffices, and in whose dexterous use seems the chief solace of her lot of silence, and of rayless night.
There are at present in this Institution one hundred and sixty-four pupils, and since its commencement, in 1817, between seven and eight hundred have shared the benefits of its shelter and instruction. Abundant proof has been rendered by them, that, when quickened by the impulse of education, their misfortune does not exclude them from participating in the active pursuits and satisfactions of life. By recurring to their history, after their separation from the Asylum, we find among them, farmers and mechanics, artists and seamen, teachers of deaf mutes in various and distant institutions, and what might at first view seem incompatible with their situation, a merchant's clerk, the editor of a newspaper, a post-master, and county-recorder in one of our far Western States, and a clerk in the Treasury Department at Washington.
More than one hundred of the pupils from this Asylum have entered into the matrimonial relation; and some, within the range of our own intimacy, might be adduced as bright examples of both conjugal and parental duty.
One of its most interesting members, who entered at its first organization, and remained during the full course of seven years, was a daughter of the late Dr. Mason F. Cogswell, who was early called to follow her lamented father to the tomb. Her genius, her entire loveliness of disposition, and the happiness of her joyous childhood, caused the following reply to be made to a question originally proposed at the Institution for the deaf and dumb in Paris; "Les Sourd-Muets se trouvent-ils malheureux?"*[1]
Oh! could the kind inquirer gaze
Upon thy brow, with gladness fraught,
Its smile, like inspiration's rays,
Would give the answer to his thought.
And could he see thy sportive grace
Sod blending with submission due,
Or note thy bosom's tenderness
To every just emotion true;—
Or, when some new idea glows
On the pure altar of the mind,
Observe the exulting tear that flows
In silent ecstasy refined;—
Thy active life, thy look of bliss,
The sparkling of thy magic eye,
Would all his skeptic doubts dismiss,
And bid him lay his pity by,—
To bless the ear that ne'er has known
The voice of censure, pride, or art,
Nor trembled at that sterner tone,
Which, while it tortures, chills the heart;—
And bless the lip that ne'er could tell
Of human woes the vast amount,
Nor pour those idle words that swell
The terror of our last account.
For sure the stream of silent course
May flow as deep, as pure, as blest,
As that which rolls in torrents hoarse,
Or whitens o'er the mountain's breast,—
As sweet a scene, as fair a shore,
As rich a soil, its tide may lave,
Then joyful and accepted pour
Its tribute to the Eternal wave.
- ↑ * "Are the deaf and dumb unhappy?"