A Child born Deaf taught to Speak. 
miration, the loud half-whisper of 
praise, and the artful well-turned‘com- 
pliment. In youth they are pleased 
with the homage paid to their exterior, 
and desire to preserve that homage at 
any rate; their thoughts concentre in 
this ‘point : for it they forget the en- 
nobling of their mind, and think the 
greatest crime is to be old or ugly. Ad- 
miration in youth is the inexhaustible 
source of their delights: in middle age 
it begins to be considered a debt their 
due; and when old age creeps on, so 
much are they accustomed to it, that 
they receive it with the utmost com- 
placency, and consider it a necessary 
part of existence. The feelings of na- 
ture, with people of mere fashion, are 
stifled by a certain set of ideas im- 
planted in their minds, when the power 
ef reason is too young and docile to 
.withstand the despotie sway of precept 
and example. Their religion is loose 
and cold—their charity selfish—their 
affections narrowed, and their refine- 
ments on the verge of evil. They are, 
in general, much above being useful, 
and ashamed of the acquaintance of 
such, unless accompanied by lustre and 
honour. ‘Their sentiments are of a cer- 
tain positive cast, their inmost feelings 
hidden. and smothered, and the shadow 
which follows their joys is the most 
deplorable ennui. 
4 TimeE.. 
_ “Til tell you who time ambles withal, 
who time trots withel, who time gallops 
withal, and who time stands still withal.” 
Shakspeare. 
- Time rolls on, and with imperious 
hand drags us onward, and, never to 
return, takes with him our prime of 
youth, our summer days, our smiles of 
hope, our beauty’s dazzle, and our 
buoyant spirits. Yet with how different 
a pace he moves with different beings ! 
To the unfortunate he drags on heavily 
and sadly—to the happy he moves on 
silken wings, scented with the perfume 
of joy; too short is the day for his 
pleasures, and the night for his luxu- 
rious ease; and the balmy wing of 
sleep hovers around the careless and 
easy heart ; light fancies float in his 
brain, and the mid-day sun awakes 
him again, to marvel the hours have 
so fast fleeted. Not so the wretch 
whom misfortune follows and pursues ;, 
to him the day hangs like a burden, 
and the sunshine appears a dense fog, 
through which no ray can penetrate: 
at night he lies down, wrapt in bitter 
contemplation of fears, but too sea- 
495 
sonable for the wretched; and sleep, 
like the stream of the world, or 
the falsity of a courtier to the fallen 
favourite, after the long tedious watch, 
comes, indeed, to rock him to forget- 
fulness for a while—a forgetfulness as 
wearisome as present well-known sor- 
rows: he starts, and wakes terrified by 
fearful visions, and all the brain-sick 
apparitions of a heavy heart: again he 
strives to sleep—she flies him, and, with 
dispirited soul and worn-out body, 
he watches for the sun’s first beam. To 
him time moves slowly indeed—yet 
too fast; since every cay buries some 
hope. 
’ ProsPpERITY AND ADVERSITY. 
How little apt ig he with whom the 
day rises merrily as the matin song of 
the lark, to reflect on the miserable and 
wretched ! He eagerly pursues'some ob- 
ject in which he wastes or degrades his 
hours, reckless of the precious and 
irrecoverable tide of that ocean which 
beareth usto eternity. Like the silly 
moth, which flutters around the flame 
till he dies, he is suddenly brought to 
his senses, and then regrets vainly the 
buried past. So necessary is adversity 
to. teach us all things, till time is lost 
we know not its value—till the oppor- 
tunity is buried, we esteem it not pro- 
perly—till the gold is dissipated, we 
know not that it gilds the day, the 
night, and every object it approaches. 
Adversity is expedient—prosperity flat- 
tering ; adversity trieth us—prosperity. 
hideth our faults; adversity mortifieth 
us—prosperity maketh our merits grow > 
adversity proveth our friends—pros- 
perity smoothens the faces of our ene- 
mies. The eye of adversity is correct » 
it seeth no standard hope in time, and 
taketh a glass to peep into eternity, 
where the sky is always serene; and if 
there be clouds, they are bright as those 
of the morn, and the blue flag of hope 
is neither dabbled with the rain, nor 
faded by the,sun. 
— 
For the Monthly Magazine. 
A Cuitp born Dear taught to Sprax. 
(Having discovered that the ensuing article is not, 
as we at first supposed, original, there being a 
published work of Dr. Delean’s announced and. 
noticed in the Revue Encyelopédique, No. 81, for 
September last, we have deemed it necessary, how- 
ever otherwise acceptable, to print it in the smaller 
type; though we introduce it here as too long for 
the department of Philosophical Selections, The 
following is the title of the,article referred to—see 
Rev. Encye. p. 8™06-—'* L'ouie et la Parole Rendues 
a Honoré Trezél sourdmuet. de Naissance; pax le 
Doctor Delean, jeune. Paris, 1825, Mlle Delan- 
nay. Brochure, in 8vyo., de 52 pages.” 4 
Had 
