the rapture which the "Come ye blessed" will inspire. He was the impenitent sinner, and I shuddered with horror at the yawning gulf beneath his feet.

Language is but the excitement which gives imagination its force, and memory its power. Signs are as capable of doing this as well under one shape as another; because their use is predicated entirely on the supposition that the thing signified is previously known. Make out an analysis of any term whatever, and resolve it into its radical meaning; in other words ascertain the simple ideas which form the complex one which it denotes. The simple ideas are either derived from sensation or reflection, either from what the mind notices through the organs of the body, or from what with its own intellectual eye it discovers to be its own phenomena.

Now all these simple ideas can most casily be expressed by the signs of the deaf and dumb; and hence it is that by a suitable arrange ment and combination of these signs, there is no term, physical, intellectual, or moral, which they cannot express.

Mr.

It is only some months since that I witnessed an interview of several hours between my deaf and dumb friend Mr. - and a young Chinese, who was quite ignorant of the English language, and also of the language of signs and gestures. began to talk to him in his language of signs. The Chinese was at first lost in amazement: but not one half hour had elapsed before a rapid conversation ensued between them, in which Mr. ascertained many interesting circumstances respecting the birth-place, parentage, occupation and life of the stranger, and also learned the import of nearly twenty Chinese words, some of which denoted quite complex and abstract ideas.

A few days since, a deaf and dumb man, of thirty years of age, visited me. He came from a distance, and was entirely ignorant of written language. 1 soon ascertained all the important circumstances of his situation in life. I then attempted to ask him, by precisely the same signs which I use among my pupils, if he knew any thing of the spirituality and immortality of the soul. He said his wife had taught him: he pointed to his body and then to the grave, he breathed and drew as it were his breath from his mouth with his hand, and said it would go upwards.-I pray with my pupils morning and evening by signs. This man was present at our devotions. During one of my prayers I described by signs the influence of the Spirit of God in cleansing the heart. The succeeding day he referred to our evening prayer; and "what did you mean," said he, "by washing your heart?" I explained it to him by signs, and he seemed well to comprehend me. He conversed without the least difficulty with the other pupils on all common subjects, and told me one day, that one of them did not understand the truth that God sees every thing. This he did by forming a ball with his hand. Then he told me, stretching his look and other hand to a great distance and in various directions, that his clenched hand represented the world. Then he pointed upwards and described some one as looking down upon this ball, and as looking through it, and round it, and seeing every part of it.

From these remarks I derive one simple conclusion, that more instruction can be communicated to the deaf and dumb, in a given

space of time, through the medium of signs, than by any other means. If, then, the cultivation of the powers of the intellect and the affections of the heart, so that the one may be led to love truth after the other has apprehended it, be the grand aim of all correct systems of education; it would seem that the principal object towards which the efforts of an instructor of the deaf and dumb should be directed, ought to be the cultivation of the language of signs, and the use of it in his daily intercourse with his pupils.

Just so much time, therefore, as is employed in teaching the deaf and dumb to attempt to articulate, is comparatively lost: for it affords to their minds no new acquisitions of thought; it only furnishes them with one additional way of communicating their ideas; and if the same time and immense labor were expended upon their instruction in new ideas, by the language of signs, they would make much more rapid progress in the attainment of knowledge.

This language of signs is capable of a beautiful though complicated philosophical arrangement; and much as some of the English critics have censured the Abbe' Sicard's system of signs as unnecessarily prolix, and savoring too much of metaphysical subtlety, I am satisfied, from my actual application of it to the minds of the deaf and dumb, that it is founded in nature, and that its general principles correspond with an admirable exactness, to those laws of the human mind, which have of late been so ably developed and defended by one whose name alone I need mention, Dugald Stewart, to revive in the breast of every lover of true philosophy the most profound admiration of exalted talents, and the most grateful remembrance of those talents adorned, in their exercise, with that simplicity, and candor, and modesty which always attend real greatness of soul.

As this language of signs is capable of becoming a vehicle of all important religious truth, and as this truth can thus be communicated to the deaf and dumb long before they are able to read and write the English language correctly; another powerful reason is thus furnished for its cultivation and use. I find no difficulty, in the course of eighteen months, in conveying to the mind of an intelligent pupil all the essential doctrines and important facts of the sacred Scriptures, and of conversing on all the common topics of Christian experience. It is found, too, to be quite practicable to conduct the morning and evening devotions of the family by mere signs. Our prayers are extemporaneous, with a short pause between each petition, which affords the pupils, who stand around the organ of their communication with heaven, an opportunity of offering up mentally what is thus distinctly addressed to their understanding through the medium of sight.

Insulated as they are from all the rest of mankind, they can, thus, soon have the Gospel proclaimed to them; and if the salvation of the soul is an object paramount to all others, it should seem, that in all institutions for the instruction of the deaf and dumb, no time should be lost in pursuing such a method of communication, as will the soonest enable the teacher to make the interesting subjects of his care acquainted with the cousoling doctrines of the pardon of sin through the blood of Jesus Christ.

I will only add, that this consideration should deeply engage the attention of all, who are concerned in the management and instruction of asylums for the deaf and dumb; for their responsibility is great indeed. I shall take an early opportunity of adding a few further remarks on the subject of teaching oral language to the deaf and dumb, by way of reply to the sentiments of one of your correspondents in your number for December, 1818. G.

ON A DEATH-BED REPENTANCE.

For the Panoplist.

In what way should a minister treat the appearance of such a repentance?

The cases of real penitence on a death-bed, are probably much fewer than is commonly supposed. We cannot certainly determine beforehand, that God will not make many fit subjects for his kingdom at the close of life.

But the analogy, both of the natural and moral world, is against the supposition. The springing blade does not come at once to maturity, nor does the ripening fruit assume in a moment its delicious flavor. So a great proportion of those, who become the friends of God, are renewed in early life. Besides, the thief on the cross is the only instance, which the Bible furnishes, of a repentance in the hour of dissolution.

That many, who thought they had repented on a sick-bed, were mistaken, is evident from the fact, that when health returned, their religion was no more. The vows, which they made to devote their lives to God, were forgotten, and their goodness proved like the morning cloud and early dew.

The minister, when he enters the sick chamber, should bear these things in mind. He should consider the responsibilities of his office, the great danger, that they, who profess to be penitent, are deceived. Before him lies one, who, in health, disregarded the Gospel. The mild accents of mercy did not melt his obdurate heart; the terrors of the law did not make him tremble; the thunders of Sinai did not make him afraid. But when at length disease scizes upon him, and death stalks before him, he begins to reflect upon his situation. A retrospect of the past fills him with alarm. He looks forward into eternity, and all is dark and gloomy. In imagination, he stands at the mouth of the pit, looks down into the abyss, and the sight overwhelms him with horror.

Something must be done. The pleasures of the world have vanished. Religion is his last and only resort. He is convinced, that without this his perdition is inevitable. But all this alarm, excited by apprehensions of future misery, may originate in mere selfishness. It may, or it may not, result in genuine penitence.

What then is the minister's duty? The heart he cannot know. He sees that the bosom, lately disturbed with distressing fears and apprehensions, has become tranquil. But he is ignorant, whether the light which now shines upon the soul, is "the twilight of everlasting day," or that which will soon go out in "the blackness of darkness."

Here the utmost circumspection is required. The sick man will look to his minister as to his father. He will place confidence in him, as one skilled in holy things.

He will probably ask, with a faultering voice, what are his prospects for eternity? But if he is deceived, and his counsellor encourages him, his false confidence will be strengthened, and a soul is lost forever.

It is important that a minister proceed in such a manner, that if the person is deceived he himself shall detect the deception. He should unravel the process by which the deception was induced, and endeavor to exhibit the sinner's heart to his own view. The minister should investigate the grounds of the present peace of the supposed· penitent, and see if it did not originate from some misapprehension of the character of God, or the way of salvation. The nature of sin, as an offence against infinite purity, should be described. That law should be made to appear holy, just, and good, which threatens death to every transgressor.

Does he unreservedly submit himself to a sovereign God? approving his justice as well as mercy? Is sin hated for its intrinsic malignity, as an offence against a holy God?

The necessity of strictness in the examination will appear more obvious, if we consider the immense disadvantages, under which the work of repentance was commenced. A weak and distressed state of body; a mind enfeebled by disease; distracted thoughts, and extreme solicitude, operating with combined force, present an almost immovable barrier to the work of repentance. In this situation, how can one apply himself, for any length of time, to serious investigation? How can he confine his attention to the all-important concerns of his soul? Only one misconception may lead him to a wrong result, and to this he will be constantly liable. Every minister, with these considerations before him, should beware of being too much influenced by the sympathies and sensibilities of his nature. He should remember that the situation of an immortal soul is awfully critical, and if he is unfaithful it may be irretrievably lost. He must be affectionate, but plain. However painful and distressing the operation, the wound must be probed to the bottom. But shall the hopes of a dying man be dashed? Shall the light, which has dawned upon his soul be put out, and the darkness of despair again envelope his mind? Shall the only prop, which supports him, be removed at this trying hour? Yes, let all these be done, if duty requires it. To throw difficulties and doubts in the way of the real penitent, is indeed painful; but it is far preferable to becoming accessary to the ruin of one, whose hopes are built on the sand. P.

For the Panoplist.

ON SEEKING THE HAPPINESS OF OTHERS.

"Who went about doing good."

To delight in goodness itself, and to rejoice in the expressions of it in others, is one discriminating mark of the Christian's character; to do good one of his indispensable duties. Wherever he turns his eye, he

sees a wilderness producing briers and thorns. This wilderness is yet to be planted with that Vine, whose leaves are for the healing of the nations: but contrasting its present condition with its aspect on that glorious morning, when the Creator pronounced it "very good,” his heart is inelted into compassion in view of the unnumbered woes which sadden the face of this apostate world. But shall he fold his hands and sit still? If his heart be almost ready to break with anguish, he may exclaim, "Oh that my head were waters, and my eyes a fountain of tears." He may be so far absorbed with his own sensibilities, and so much enfeebled by their indulgence, that the day for exertion shall be past before he arises to repair the wastes of the smoking desolation. At the approach of the long sleep, he may have accomplished almost nothing in any of the plans of benevolence; though he hailed their beginning, and desired their success. Courage first forsook him; the enemies were numerous, and the obstacles great. Strength subsided ere he put his hand to the work; the shades of evening are drawing near, and nothing is done. When his head is laid low among the clods of the valley, it may but too truly be said of him, as of many others, "he dies and leaves no cheering memorial behind him." What single misery has he diminished? what single calamity has he alleviated? In short, where is, or has been, the single immortal, who is, or will be, any happier, than if this man had never existed?

To the reader of this paper I suggest the following considerations. 1. Whether there is not, fairly within his reach, some practicable method of doing good?

Discarding the expectation of reaping without the toil of cultivation, let each one look around him, with a cordial desire of diminishing the quantity of human suffering. While he remembers, that a splendid part can be allotted to but few, and that the other parts are equally necessary to the perfection of a plan, let him immediately look at the condition of his country, his neighborhood, his friends, and family. If he be blest with an abundance, many of the sons of want and objects of public charity, may experience the comforts of his bounty. If Providence has placed him in a humble lot, and confined his influence within the narrow circle, let him not forget, that within that circle his activity is just as necessary, and his indolence as much a crime, as if the extent of his operations were measured on a grander scale. It is an egregious mistake of many persons, to suppose, because they are in circumstances of mediocrity, or perhaps of poverty, they are not accountable for neglecting every portion of the immense mass of suffering in the world. Had they fortunes, or were they placed on the high ground of public office, they would account themselves responsible for the abuse of such a high trust; but by individuals so poor,and of so little influence as themselves, nothing of lasting benefit to the community can be effected. Probably, no being gifted with reason was ever yet so perfectly degraded, as not to have influence with some one of his own species. Some circumstance, which he perhaps cannot name, has given him a hold on the opinions, the passions, and of course, on the conduct, of a neighbor, a relative, or an associate. This influence is the talent put into his hands to improve. For the use of it he is most solemnly accountable.