DE L’EPÉE.
Among those persons who possess the highest claim to the gratitude of mankind, that of having devoted their lives, without a selfish motive, to the alleviation of human misery, the Abbé de l’Epée claims a high and honourable place. Time, as is usual in cases of real excellence, has established on a sure basis merits which were at first slowly acknowledged. Unknown, and unappreciated, this good man lived for many years in obscurity; and, worse than this, he had to endure intolerance and persecution during the greater part of his beneficent career. There exists no memoir worthy of his exalted character. The brilliant genius of Bouilly has glanced upon his virtues and his talents; the eulogy of Bébian (himself a living and a worthy successor in the art of teaching the deaf and dumb) has shed additional lustre on a fame already bright; but still we have much to desire. Our glimpses of the good Abbé in his public capacity, and in the retirement which he loved and courted, only present us with a faint outline of his character,—an outline, however, which is sufficiently distinct to show that the finished picture would have been surpassingly beautiful.
Charles Michel de l’Epée was born at Versailles, in November, 1712. His father was the king’s architect, a man of distinguished talents and enlightened piety. He devoted himself to the instruction of his children, and taught them from their earliest years to moderate their desires, to fear God, and to love their neighbour. Under such a guide, the docile heart of young De l’Epée imbibed its first feelings of virtue. The thought of evil was as displeasing as evil itself to his pure mind, so strictly had he been trained in the love of things “honest, just, pure, lovely, and of good report.” It is said that when, at an advanced age, he looked back upon his long career, he did not remember to have had more than one trial to sustain; and the humility which adorned his life led him to consider virtue which had been thus acquired without effort as possessing no merit. The piety which directed all his actions, and the obedience to the precepts of the gospel which regulated his will, seemed peculiarly to fit him for the service of the altar. To this service his early wishes tended, and his parents, who at first resisted, at length complied with his requests.
He received an education to fit him for the church, but at the commencement of his career he had to encounter difficulties and opposition. When he presented himself for admission into the priesthood, probably as a deacon, according to the established practice of the diocese of Paris, he was required to sign a formulary of faith. As he was a Jansenist, and as the form prescribed was contrary to his principles, he refused to avow by his hand what his conscience disapproved. Notwithstanding this, he was admitted to the rank of deacon, but was at the same time told never to pretend to holy orders. This humble station in the ministry was too humiliating for even this lowly-minded man. His breast glowed with ardent charity towards mankind which he longed to put into practice, but which could find no fit sphere for action in his humble office at the foot of the altar. The intolerance of those ecclesiastics who stood in the way of his preferment in the church, obliged him to direct his attention to the bar, to which his parents had at first destined him; he passed through the course of prescribed studies, and took the customary oath. In the practice of the law De l’Epée could find no pleasure. Its scenes of violence, cunning, and cupidity, its hatreds, divisions, chicanery and fury, too deeply affected his mild and tranquil spirit. All his wishes were directed to the service of the altar; his only desire was to be a minister of the gospel of peace, and at last he was successful.
A nephew of the learned and liberal Bossuet, who seems to have emulated his uncle in piety and liberality, was at this period the bishop of Troyes. This good man loved to call around him ecclesiastics of strict piety. Through his means M. de l’Epée was regained to the church; he was ordained to the sacred office, and received a canonry in the cathedral of Troyes. He now devoted himself to the preaching of the gospel; and he knew how to render pleasing by his example those precepts which penetrated the hearts of his hearers. Love towards our neighbour was his predominant theme, and his efforts produced abundant fruits. His happiness was not of long duration. M. de Bossuet died, and Providence had decreed new trials for M. de l’Epée. About this time M. de Soanen was persecuted for holding the religious principles of the Jansenists; and his friend M. de l’Epée, who held the same opinions as this virtuous prelate, was included in the same interdiction. Never was there a devotion less offensive, or a creed more tolerant than that professed by this worthy man. His eulogist says of him, “He spoke rarely to persons of a different opinion of the objects of their faith. When he was led into such subjects, his discussions never degenerated into disputes, he had the talent of keeping them within the boundary of those agreeable conversations where confidence reigns.”
Circumstances apparently accidental, which will be related, led M. de l’Epée to devote himself to the wants of the deaf and dumb. In earlier times some learned individuals had bestowed some attention upon the means of educating this unfortunate class of mankind, but they had done this philosophically rather than practically. One of the first of these experimenters was Pedro de Ponce, a Benedictine monk of Leon, who lived between the years 1520 and 1584. Paul Bonet, also a Spaniard, taught several deaf and dumb persons, and published the first known work on the subject in 1620. A relation of his success has been left us from the pen of Sir Kenelm Digby. Bonet’s work was accompanied by a manual alphabet, from which the one now used on the Continents of Europe and America was derived. In England, John Bulwer published his “Philocophus, or the Deaf and Dumb Man’s Friend,” in the year 1648. In 1653 Dr. Wallis appeared as an author on the same subject; he was succeeded by Dr. Holder, George Sibscota, and George Dalgarno. The latter published his “Didascalocophus, or Deaf and Dumb Man’s Tutor,” in 1680. During the same period the attention of several individuals in various parts of Europe was directed to a similar object; the most distinguished of whom was John Conrad Amman, a Swiss physician, who resided at Leyden.
It is not our province here to describe the various methods pointed out by these scientific philanthropists; we have mentioned their labours merely with the view of showing that the art was not altogether unknown to the learned of various countries previous to the time of the Abbé de l’Epée. France was the last to commence this labour of science and charity. It has, however, good cause to be proud of its successful efforts in the great work. It has produced a De l’Epée, a Sicard, a Bébian, and a De Gerando, all energetic labourers in the same vineyard. Its disinterested beneficence in our own days has done enough to perpetuate its name above all nations, in the hearts of those for whom its exertions have been called forth.
The following incident directed M. de l’Epée’s attention to the great work which became the leading object of his life. It is said by M. Bébian that up to this period he possessed no knowledge of the attempts previously made for the instruction of the deaf, and we shall presently give the Abbé’s own account of the first works on the art which came under his notice. Business took him one day to a house where he found only two young women; they were occupied in needlework which seemed to engross all their attention. He addressed himself to them; they did not answer, their eyes continued fixed upon their work. He questioned them again, and still obtained no answer. At this he was much surprised; being ignorant that the two sisters were deaf and dumb. The mother arrived soon after, and explained to him with tears the nature of their infirmity, and of her sorrow. An ecclesiastic, named Vanin, had commenced the education of these young persons by means of pictures. Death having taken away from them this charitable man they remained without further assistance, no person being willing to continue a task so difficult, and apparently so uncertain in its results. “Believing,” says M. de l’Epée, “that these two children would live and die in ignorance of their religion, if I did not attempt some means of instructing them, I was touched with compassion, and told the mother that she might send them daily to my house, and that I would do whatever I might find possible for them.”
The pictures of Father Vanin he found to be a feeble and unsatisfactory resource; the apparent successes obtained by means of articulation had not solidity enough to seduce his philosophical mind. But he had not forgotten that, at the age of sixteen, in a conversation with his tutor, who was an excellent metaphysician, the latter had proved to him this incontestable principle:—that there is no more natural connexion between metaphysical ideas, and the articulated sounds which strike the ear, than between these same ideas, and the written characters which strike the eye. He also recollected that his tutor drew this immediate conclusion from his premises,—that it was as possible to instruct the deaf and dumb by writing, always accompanied by visible signs, as to teach other men by words delivered orally, along with gestures indicative of their signification. “How little did I then think,” says M. de l’Epée, “that Providence was thus laying the foundation of the work for which I was destined!” From that period he devoted himself exclusively to the work which he had commenced, and while some people smiled at his endeavours, he found in his occupation his chief happiness. A respectable minister, after being present at one of his lessons, said to him, “I formerly pitied you, I now pity you no longer; you are restoring to society and to religion beings who have been strangers to both.” The sanguine temperament and zeal of M. de l’Epée led him into some errors, particularly that very pardonable one of supposing his pupils to understand more than they really did understand. His report of their rapid advancement, as compared with the actual practice of modern times, shows this; but with a less active mind, and with less zeal, he would never have succeeded in awakening the public feeling to the important object of his life, and he would never have overcome the opposition of other teachers, and of minds less generous than his own.
“One day,” says M. de l’Epée, “a stranger came to our public lesson, and offering me a Spanish book, he said that it would be a real service to the owner if I would purchase it. I answered, that as I did not understand the language it would be totally useless to me: but opening it casually, what should I see but the manual alphabet of the Spaniards neatly executed in copper-plate! I wanted no further inducement; I paid the messenger his demand, and kept the book. I then became impatient for the conclusion of the lesson; and what was my surprise when I found this title, Arte para enseñar à hablar los Mudos! I had little difficulty to guess that this signified The Art of teaching the Dumb to speak, and I immediately resolved to acquire the Spanish language for the benefit of my pupils.”
Soon after meeting with this work of Bonet, he heard of Amman’s Dissertatio de loquelâ Surdorum et Mutorum, in the library of a friend. Conducted by the light of these two excellent guides, De l’Epée continued his task with a success which quite satisfied himself.
It will be well, in the present Memoir, to touch but lightly upon the disputes which agitated the learned in France and Germany when the partial success of the Abbé de l’Epée became generally known. We cannot but give praise to the Abbé for the openness and candour with which he made known his experience and his views; and if his arguments to prove the superior excellence of his own method appear unsatisfactory and inconclusive to the enlarged experience of the present day, such arguments ought to be viewed as those of a zealous-minded teacher of an art yet in the first stages of its infancy. Had his antagonist M. Heinich, the Leipsic teacher, been as communicative respecting his plans as his liberal opponent, good might have resulted from this learned warfare; as it was, to the satisfaction of almost everybody, the Abbé de l’Epée was left master of the field, and received compliments from all quarters, among which should be especially noted the “Decision” of the Academy of Zurich in his favour.
The chief fault in the system of the Abbé de l’Epée seems to have consisted in its being the philosophy of the master, not sufficiently lowered to the comprehension of the pupil; a common error for master-minds to fall into. The pupil might mechanically translate methodical signs into language, without knowing the ideas intended to be conveyed by such signs and by such language. Has not this always been a fault among the instructors of youth? Our school books of the present day contain sufficient evidence of this failing. Before the time of Pestalozzi it was scarcely dreamed of, that the teacher should exchange places with the learner; that he should suffer himself to be led by his pupil to a certain point, in order that he might commence his superstructure on the foundation already formed; that he should ascertain the manner in which infantine impressions are received, and become acquainted with the bent and genius of his pupil, to enable him to determine upon the best mode of rendering his lessons beneficial, so as to correct that which is erroneous, and develop that which is hidden. This is the “true method of instructing the deaf and dumb,” and not less the true method of instructing children gifted with all their faculties. If the good Abbé committed only that error, which was common in his generation, and which is still too common in ours; if he taught words instead of ideas—what did he less than others? This is the great fault in all our seminaries of learning.
The number of children under the care of the Abbé de l’Epée was very considerable. We read in one part of his writings of six hundred and eight pupils having been at various times under instruction, and this was written several years before he closed his career of usefulness. Again we read of upwards of sixty pupils being under his care at one time. All this was performed for the poor, unassisted by any pecuniary aid except his own patrimony. It is stated that the income which the Abbé de l’Epée inherited from his father amounted to about 400l. sterling; of this sum he allowed about 100l. per annum for his own expenses, and he considered the remainder as the inheritance of his adopted children,—the indigent deaf and dumb,—to whose use it was faithfully applied. “The rich,” says he, “only come to my house by tolerance; it is not to them that I devote myself, it is to the poor; but for these I should never have undertaken the education of the deaf and dumb.” There was no kind of privation which he did not impose on himself for the sake of his pupils. In order to supply their wants he limited his own. So strictly did he adhere to the appropriation which he had made of his income, that in the rigorous winter of 1788, when suffering under the infirmities of age, he denied himself fuel, in order not to intrench upon the moderate sum to which he confined his annual expenditure. All the remonstrances of his friends on this point were fruitless. His housekeeper having observed his rigid restriction, and doubtless imputing it to its real motive, led into his apartment his forty pupils, who conjured him to preserve himself for their sakes. He yielded, not without difficulty, to their persuasions, but afterwards reproached himself for this concession. Having exceeded his ordinary expenditure by about 300 livres (about 12l.), he would afterwards exclaim in the midst of his pupils, “My poor children, I have wronged you of a hundred crowns!”
With that liberality which ever characterizes the true friend of mankind, the good Abbé formed preceptors for many institutions. Germany, Switzerland, Italy, Spain, Holland, and many other countries participated in the benefits which were being conferred on the deaf-mutes of Paris.
It is worthy of remark that two of the most eminent European sovereigns of that day encouraged the labours of the Abbé de l’Epée—Catherine II., Empress of Russia, and Joseph II., Emperor of Germany. In 1780 the ambassador of Catherine waited upon the Abbé to congratulate him in her name, and to offer him rich presents from that Empress, who knew well how to appreciate all that was truly great. “My lord,” said the Abbé, “ I never receive gold; tell her majesty, that if my labours have appeared to her to claim her esteem, all that I ask is that she will send me a deaf and dumb person, or a master to be instructed in this art of teaching.” The Emperor Joseph bestowed a still more flattering notice upon these labours. After witnessing the success of the Abbé de l’Epée, he resolved to found in his own dominions an institution so necessary to the wants of his subjects. During two hours and a half, the qualifications attainable by the deaf and dumb, when their powers have been properly developed, were attentively regarded by the Emperor, who had in his thoughts a young lady of high birth at Vienna in this deplorable state, whose parents wished to give her a Christian education. On being consulted as to the measures to be taken for this end, the Abbé offered either to educate the young lady gratuitously, if she were brought to Paris; or to instruct any intelligent person, who might be sent to him, in the method to be pursued. The Emperor accepted the latter proposal, as it opened the prospect of permanent relief for others of his subjects who might be in the same affecting circumstances. On his return to Vienna, he addressed a highly flattering letter to M. de l’Epée by the Abbé Storch, the person whom he selected for introducing the education of deaf-mutes into his dominions. The Abbé Storch is spoken of by the Abbé de l’Epée as “filled with the purest sacerdotal spirit, and amply endowed with every talent his mission could require.” A royal institution for deaf-mutes was founded at Vienna, which was the first national establishment ever erected for the deaf and dumb.
A subject of painful and anxious interest occupied the thoughts of the Abbé de l’Epée during his declining years. He had solicited from government an endowment to perpetuate his institution after his own death, but he obtained only promises. However, he knew that his art would exist in Vienna if it should be forgotten at Paris, and this gave him some consolation. When the Emperor Joseph visited his institution he expressed his astonishment, that a man so deserving had not obtained at least an abbey, whose revenues he might apply to the wants of the deaf and dumb. He offered to ask one for him, or even to give him one in his own dominions. “I am already old,” said M. de l’Epée: “if your majesty wishes well to the deaf and dumb, it is not on my head, already bending to the tomb, that the benefit must fall, it is on the work itself.”
M. de l’Epée found, however, some feeling hearts in France. Many masters, taught by him, carried the fruits of his instructions into different cities in that kingdom, as well as into foreign countries. At Bordeaux an establishment had been formed by the archbishop, M. de Cicé, which owed its celebrity to its instructor, the Abbé Sicard, a young priest who had been sent to learn the theory and the practice of the method employed by the illustrious teacher at Paris. It is said by De Gerando, that “the pupil soon became acquainted with his master’s views, and seized them with enthusiasm.” He was eminently calculated to see their value. Gifted with a vivid and fertile imagination, he had a singular ability in clothing abstract notions in sensible forms; he had a particular talent for that pantomime which is the proper language of the deaf-mute, and which the Abbé de l’Epée had proposed to carry to a high degree of developement in his system of methodic signs: endowed with an enterprising and flexible mind, he would search for and discover new and various modes of expressing and explaining ideas and precepts. He appeared to possess a kind of natural talent for communicating with deaf-mutes.
This was the man who was destined to succeed M. de l’Epée. His talents and his virtues proved him to be worthy of receiving that inheritance of glory and of beneficence. His successes filled his master with joy, who, in the overflowing of his hopes, said to him one day, “Mon ami, j’ai trouvé le verre, c’est à vous d’en faire les lunettes.” A testimony as honourable to the modesty of the one, as to the talent of the other. Sicard was in full possession of his master’s ideas; amply has he developed and extended them by his own clear and analytical mind.
If the Abbé de l’Epée was not the first inventor of a system for teaching the deaf and dumb, he was the first who benefited society by any extensive application of the discovery. We hesitate not to assert that he was an inventor of great merit, particularly as regards those details which made the discovery of service to those for whose instruction it was designed. Previous to his time, it had been discussed rather as a possible, than as an extensively practicable, art; and the few persons who had been previously instructed must be viewed more as the results of experiments to test philosophical principles, than as pupils regularly and systematically taught.
The Abbé de l’Epée died December 23, 1789. The Abbé Fauchet, preacher to the king, pronounced his funeral oration; but next to his mute eulogists in all countries, M. de Bébian and M. Bouilly have been the means of making known his fame and his merits to the world. From their writings much of the present Memoir is derived. M. de Seine, a deaf-mute pupil of the Abbé de l’Epée, wrote the following distich to be placed under the bust of his benevolent teacher:—
“Il révèle à la fois secrets merveilleux,
De parler par les mains, d’entendre par les yeux.”
