Deaf and Dumb! / Third Edition

by Elizabeth Sandham

The tea-things were ready, and William repeated the names of every thing he saw; he walked round the room, and, as if anxious to show the advantage he had gained, called over all that was in it, or on the shelves about the room, while his delighted parents listened with fond emotion to all he said. His little stock of clothes was now opened, and eagerly taking out his spelling-book, which was in the parcel, he began to read. He showed his writing also; in short, there was none of his acquirements which he was not eager to exhibit, and to receive the congratulations of his parents upon. He watched the motion of their lips, and understood every word they said, when they expressed their pleasure to each other.

In the course of the next day, he visited his old acquaintance in the village, whither little Lucy accompanied him, proud to be once more with her dear brother. All the neighbours were astonished at his improvement, and William was in danger of thinking himself something extraordinary, he was so much noticed and admired. He also paid his respects to Mrs. Rawlinson; and received from her the sincerest congratulations, as well as from his old friends, Miller and Sally. Caroline and Henry made him say every thing that he could speak; and when unable to answer them, (which, among the numerous questions they asked him, was sometimes the case,) they immediately removed the distress he showed on these occasions, by replying for him. Yet this did not seem to satisfy him, and before he left them, he was, after repeatedly endeavouring, able to pronounce the word himself.

A few days after this, Jacob Goodyer came over to visit his friend, and it was pleasant to see with what delight they met each other. The simplicity of childhood was blended with their artless manners, and they seemed to take an interest in each other's concerns, which none other could have. William related to his attentive friend, all that had happened to him since they parted; even mentioned what he had ate and drank each day, and received the same information from Jacob. While thus conversing with each other, they seemed to feel themselves the objects of attention to all around; but when they could get away together, quite alone, and enjoy a conversation in their own way, partly by signs mingled with words, (for though able to understand others by the motion of their lips, they could not so exactly frame their mouths to pronounce what they wished, as to be clearly comprehended by the sight alone,) it appeared as if nothing was wanting to their happiness.

Each of these unfortunate children, throughout the whole school, seemed allied to the others by a nearer tie than that of relationship: they were a world within themselves, and their manners and ideas were, in one sense, unmixed with that evil which is in others. Having not the sense of hearing, their acquaintance with what was wrong was excluded through this channel; and as, before their admittance to the school, their age and misfortune in great measure precluded their beholding it; so, while they were there, the attention paid to their morals, and to keep them from every thing which might add to that taint of sin, which is so inherent in our nature, and which these children were not exempt from, gave to the simplicity with which they acted, the appearance of innocence; or rather what is called so by us, who are totally ignorant of what innocence really is, and can only comparatively judge of it. They were taught to love each other, and feeling themselves equally unfortunate, there was not among them that air of superiority, which too many are apt to assume, from possessing powers which they see are wanting in others. The pride, also, of the human heart, revolts at times at the compassion shown in such cases, though at others it feels grateful for the expression of it, and much depends on the manner in which it is displayed; but among themselves there was nothing of this sort—all felt for each other. Their wants they could often make known to others: but while shut out from the power of language, they could not describe their comforts to any one, so well as to themselves.

William and Jacob both spake highly of the school, and of the kindness with which they were treated; and, as the time for their going back drew near, they rather expressed pleasure than regret at the thought of returning. Mrs. Goldsmith bade her boy farewell, with still greater comfort than at the first; she was now assured of his improvement, and had no fear of his continuing to do so. Jacob had tried to persuade him to become a shoe-maker like himself, at which employment he was getting more and more expert; but William had always shown a desire to be a cabinet maker, and the gentlemen of the committee meant to indulge him in having him instructed in that trade, making it a point to consult the disposition of the children, where it was possible.

In the course of the next half year, Mr. Beaufort paid a second visit to Mr. Rawlinson; and while there, kindly called on Mrs. Goldsmith with the pleasing intelligence of William's advancement both in speaking, writing, and the business which he was now learning. The poor woman thanked him for his goodness, while he enquired after Lucy and the youngest child, who was now two years old, and the fears of his mother unfortunately confirmed, as it evidently appeared he was a sharer in the affliction which attended the others. Mr. Beaufort gave her hopes, that, as the fund increased the scheme would be enlarged, and that he should then have it in his power to get one or both of them into the school, when they were of a proper age.

"I hope they will," said Henry Rawlinson, who had accompanied his old friend, (not now riding before him, as when they first met at the cottage, but on a little horse his father had bought for him,) "I hope they will: it is such an advantage to William, that I should be sorry the others should not share it likewise. And Jacob Goodyer, also, will be able to get his living any where; his father says he will soon come home, and make shoes for the whole parish." Mr. Beaufort smiled at this information, and, as they returned, Henry enquired if the fund did not increase. "I wish I was a man," said he, "I would give a great deal towards it." "My dear boy," said Mr. Beaufort, "you give a great deal now for your age;" (for Henry and Caroline also, had, from their first hearing of this charity, contrived to lay by part of their pocket-money towards the support of it;) "if every boy and girl were to spare as much from their weekly or quarterly allowance as you do, and your sister, how would the fund be increased, as well as the pleasure they would receive from thus employing it. Perhaps three or four children might be admitted every year, in addition to the present number; and thus they might be a means of rescuing their fellow-creatures from a state worse than that of oblivion!" "Oh, that they would;" said Henry, ready to spring from his horse at the idea; "Oh, that they would! and did they but know the pleasure it gave to poor nurse Goldsmith to hear her son speak, I think there would be no doubt of it."

We shall now proceed to relate the further benefit this benevolent institution was of to William, and how it enabled him, in some measure, to requite the kindness of Mr. Beaufort and Henry Rawlinson, as well as materially to assist his family when he grew up.

When Mr. Beaufort returned to town, he took Henry with him for a fortnight's pleasure, and knowing it would be as great a one to him as any, to see William Goldsmith, and the manner in which he was instructed, almost the first place they visited, was the Asylum in which he was placed. He saw the method by which these unfortunate children were taught to speak—the kind attention of their teachers—the way in which they lived—and how they were permitted to amuse themselves. William had great pleasure in speaking to him of these things, and that Henry might carry the most accurate account of himself and his proceedings to his mother, he showed him every part of the school, as well as of his workmanship, from which the governors permitted him to send her a small trifle of his own making.