When drawing near to- his. end, Mr. Jervis Holmes, a clergyman of great abilities, was defired to attend him. They had a converſation together on the exiſrence of God, ſome fragments of which are remaining, which I will tranſlate, as well as E can, it being not a little curious. The clergyman began with haranguing on the wonders of nature. Ah, Sir,“ fid the blind philoſopher to him, what is all chat grand ſpectaele to me? I have deen condemned to ſpend my life in « darkneſs: you. mention wonders quite Gut of my underftanding; and which are proofs only to you, and thoſe who, like you, have their fight, If you «< would have me believe in God, you < muſt make me feel him.” Sir,“ replied the clergyman, very appoſitely, feel yourſelf, and you wil meet with the Deity in the admirable * mechaniſm of your — « MI“ w « MI“ w THE BLEND. _ 37 « Mr. Holmes,” replied Saunderſon, % ] muſt repeat it, all that may be very « fine to you, yet is nat ſo to me; but « were the animal mechaniſm as perfect « as you make it, and I believe it to be % ſo, for you are a worthy man, and « would ſcorn to impoſe on me; what 60 relation is there between ſuch mecha- « niſm and a ſupremely intelligent Being? « If it amazes you, it is, perhaps, from * your being uſed to call every thing you cannot directly comprehend, a wonder. «* I myſelf have fo often been an object of wonder to the world, that I have but a « very ſlender opinion of its - wonders. People have come from the fartheſt part of England to ſee me, not con- « ceiving how I could perform geometrical gperations. You muſt allow thoſe people not to have been very exact in * their notions of the poſſibility of things.. * If a phænomenon appears to us above * human comprehenſion, we immediately * fay it is the work of God; nothing leſs * will ſatisfy our vanity. Would not a 5 5 | little 58 QDET-T-ER ON little leſs pride, and a little more philo- „ ſophy, do better in our converſations? * If in nature 'we meet with a difficult “ Enot, let us leave it as it is, and not call in to cut it the hand of a being which * afterwards becomes a freſh knot more difficult for us to untie than the former. + Aſk an Indian how the world remains * ſuſpended in the air? He will anſwer, that it is carried on the back of an ele- „ phant. And on what does the elephant MW. bear? On a tortoiſe. And. what ſup- Ml © ports the tortoiſe?—You pity the In- « dian, and one might ſay to yourſelf as to him, My good friend Holmes, acknowedge your ignorance, and forgive me the elephant and the tortoiſe.”
Here Saunderſon made a little pauſe, probably expecting an anſwer from the clergyman; but on which fide is a blind man to be attacked! Mr. Holmes availed himſelf of Saunderſon's good opinion of his probity, and of the abilities of Newton, Leibnitz, Clerk, and ſome others of his countrymen, poſſibly the firſt a 0 * the world, who all had been ſtricken with the wonders of nature, and acknowledged was undoubtedly the moſt forcible objection which the clergyman could offer to Saunderſon. Accordingly the good blind man allowed that it would be ſomething pre-ſumptuous to deny what ſuch a man as Newton had acquieſced in: yet he repre-ſented to the clergyman, that Newton's i teſtimony was not of that weight to him, 1 | | as that of all nature muſt be to Newten; g and that 1t was on God's word that Newton - believed; whereas he was reduced to beleve on Newton's word. | Conſider, Mr. Holmes,” added he, what a confidence I muſt have in your word and in Newton's. Though I fee I nothing, I admit that there is in every thing an admirable order; but I pro- * miſe myſelf, that you will not require any thing farther. Concerning the pre- * ſent ſtate of the univerſe, I yield to you 4 and in return; you will allow me D 6 the an intelligent being as its author. This „ — — I 1 M4 4 * / < the liberty of thinking as I pleaſe on its « ancient and primitive ſtate, with relation eto which you are as blind as myſelf. In e this you will have no witneſſes to bring <« againſt me, and your eyes are out of the queſtion. You are therefore welcome to imagine, that the order which « you ſo highly admire has ever ſub-% ſiſted; but allow me to think that it is © otherwiſe, and that if we recurred to « the origin of things and times, and e that we perceived matter actuated, and e the chaos unfolding itſelf, we ſhould % meet with a multitude of informous <« for a few well-organized beings. If I <« have nothing to object to you con-« cerning the preſent condition of things, « I may at leaſt queſtion you concerning <« their paſt conditions. I may, for in- * ſtance, aſk you who told you, who told Leibnitz, Clerk, and Newton, that at the primordial formation of animals, « ſome were not without a head, others & without legs? I might affirm that < ſome had no ſtomach, others no bowels; 5 „that « that fome ſpecies, which, having a ſtoi mach, a palate and teeth, ſeemed hkely to laſt, have failed through ſome defect in the heart or the lungs. That « monſters have ſucceſſively deſtroyed « each other, that all the faulty combi-« nations of matter have diſappeared, « only thoſe remaining, the mechaniſm « of which was no important contradietion, and which could ſubſiſt and per-« petuate themſelves. | On this ſuppoſition, if in the firſt man « the larynx had been cloſed, if he had s Wl © wanted proper aliments, if the genera- 1 Wl © tive parts had been defectuous, if he had not met with his mate, or had mingled Holmes, where would the human ſpe- * cies have been? It would have been involved in- the general depuration of the univerſe, and that haughty being called man, thus diſſolved and ſcattered among the molecule of matter, would have remained perhaps for ever in the claſs of poſſibility.
Lid — 7 ITY AE as 7 — _ . ͤ =D Fn l r f 28 -; Had there never been any informous ee beings, you would not fail affirming, * that there never will be any, and that 6 -I run into chimerical hypotheſes; but,” continued Saunderſon, © amidſt all this « ſo perfect order, monſtrous productions come forth now and then.” Then facing the miniſter, he ſaid, Behold « me, Mr. Holmes, I have no eyes. „ What had either you or I done to God, e that one ſhould have that organ, and <« the other be without it.” Saunderſon pronounced theſe words with a countenance ſo earneſt and fo expreſſive of deep concern, that the clergyman and the reſt of the company could not forbear participating in his grief, even to tears. The blind e perceiving it, ſaid to the clergyman, Mr. Holmes, the goodneſs of your yr was well % known to me, and I am very ſenſible <« of this freſh proof of it in theſe my « laſt moments; but if you have any con-« cern for me, do not grudge me the 2.12% IF: COMP THE BLIND.& « comfort of dying without having ever « cauſed affliction to any one.“ Then, with ſomething of a more re- ſolute voice, he continued, It is therefore my conjecture, that at the begin- «* ning, when the fermentation of matter diſcloſed the univerſe,. ſuch as I * were very common. But why ſhould Lad - * «* of animals? How many maimed ab- «* ortive worlds have been deſtroyed, or « perhaps are continually amended and « deſtroyed, in thoſe remote ſpaces which I cannot reach, and you do not ſee; but jn which motion continues and will con- * tinue to combine maſſes, till brought * to ſome proper diſpoſition for duration? Come, philoſophers, accompany me then * to the confines of that univerſe, beyond * that point within which I touch, and * you ſee organized beings 3 range that * new ocean, and amidſt its irregular agitations ſeek ſome veſtiges of that in-* telligent being, whoſe wiſdom you here “ ſo much admire. 60 But not I affirm of worlds what I believe —— — * 1 1 = 5 - — Sx prey F 2. * » = - — * & S - aA” 5-4 « — — - £6 rere. But there's no need of taking you out cc cc of your element. Pray, Mr. Holmes, what is this world? Is it not a compound ſubject to revolutions all indi. cating a continual verging to deſtruction; a rapid ſucceſſion of beings fol. lowing and propelling one another, and diſappearing; a tranſient ſymerry a momentary order? I was juſt noy taxing you with eſtimating the perfection of things by your capacity; and here I may find fault with you for mea- ſuring the duratien of them by that of your life: you judge of the world's ſucceſſive exiſtence as the ephemeronfly of yours. This world 1s eternal to you, juſt as you are eternal to the being who lives but an inſtant; and ſtill the inſect ſhews more reaſon than you.
What prodigious ſeries of ephemerons, what immenſe traditions, bear witneſs to your eternity? We ſhall all, however, paſs away, without a poſſibility of denoting the real extent which we took VPs or we preciſe time of our duoy ration, pon = CHE BLINDG @® « ration. Time, matter, and ſpace, are « perhaps but a point.”
During this converſation, Saunderſon became moved ſomething beyond what his condition would bear, that he was ſeized with a delirium, which laſted for ſome hours, and on coming to himſelf he only cried out, O thou God of Clark and Newton, have mercy on me,“ and expired“. | | Thus died Saunderfon. You ſee, Madam, that all the reaſonings which he objected to the clergyman were not able ſo much as to fix a blind man. What a n- MW ſhame for thoſe who ſee, and have no to Wl better reaſons than he, and to whom the no Wl wonderful ſpectacle of nature, from the the Wl rifing of the ſun to the ſetting of the ou. ſmalleſt ſtars, declares the exiſtence and ns, glory of its author. They have eyes, \cks which Saunderſon wanted; but Saunder-OW- | {on The profeſſor, however, had, according to his life prefixed to his Algebra, been ſo far brought to du- n ſenſe of Chriſtianity, that a time had been appointed for his receiving the ſacrament. | 6 EETTER ON ſon had a purity of manners, a candour and openneſs, which they have not. Accordingly, they live as if blind, and Saunderſon died as if he had had his ſight. The voice of nature made itſelf ſufficiently underſtood by him, through his remaining organs; and this indeed adds to the force of his teſtimony againſt thoſe who obſtinately ſhut their eyes and ears. I would fain aſk, whether the darkneſs of paganiim” did not ſhroud the true God from - Socrates, more than did the loſs of ſight, and of the grand ſpectacle of nature, from Saunderſon?
I am very ſorry, Madam, that, both for your ſatisfaction and mine, other intereſting particulars of this celebrated blind man have not been tranſmitted to us. His anſwers would perhaps have afforded more light than all the experiments propoſed to be made. Thoſe about him muſt have had very little of the philoſopher in them, with exception, however, of Mr. William Inchclif, who was with Saunderſon onl) in his laſt hours, and has preſerved for v5 his is laſt ſayings, on account of which I - MW rould adviſe all who have any acquain- 1 unce with the Engliſh to read a work printed at Dublin in 1747, under the title of The Life and Character of Dr. Nicholas S Vanderſon, late Lucafian Profeſſor of the © Wh Mathematics in the Univerſity of Cambridge.
5) bis Diſciple and Friend, William Inchclif, d % They will find in it a beauty, a n but which, with all my care, I do not „ preſume to think my tranſlation has premn Wt ferved.
In 1713, he married the daughter of th WW Mr. Dickons, rector of Boxworth in Came- bridgeſhire, by whom he had a ſon and ad daughter, ſtill liging. His laſt farewel to lis his family is very moving. I am going,“ ſaid he, where we ſhall all go; * ſpare me your lamentations; they af- * grief for me ſharpen thoſe which eſcaped * me. It is no uneaſineſs to me to leave a * world, which has been only a long de- * fire and one continued deprivation.
bo. I force, and a variety, ſcarce ever parallelled, * fect me too much; your expreſſions of + . At 4 ms An. S FIY ns — n e. g 5 of * 3 * W * 2 * EE W N — n — oP — — R D g 22 2 * 8 ——— =. n 1 * _ MY woe _ PP Ra __— 4 ©. is I with you all happineſs z; live virty- « ouſly; and learn in me to die quietly,” Then taking his wife by the hand, he ſqueezed it a while between his; he turned his face towards her, as if deſirous of ſee. ing her: after giving his children his bleſfing, he embraced all his family, and de. fired them to withdraw, their lamentations being more uneaſy to him than the approaches of death.
England is the country of philoſophers, virtuoſi, and ſyſtem- makers; yet had it not been for Mr. Inchclif, we. ſhould have known no more of the celebrated Saunderſon, than what any common man could have told us, as that he knew again ſuch places where he had once been, by the noiſe which the walls and the floor reflected, amongſt a hundred other ſuch things, all equally common to moſt blind 'perſons, Are Saunderſons then ſo very common in England? Does every town there produce perſons, who, without ever having thelt ſight, read lectures on optics?
We We are curious of ſeeing ſight given to thoſe who were born blind; but, on farther conſideration, philoſophy, I believe, would be found rather a greater gainer by queſtioning a ſenſible blind man. We ſhould learn the ſtate of things in him; and could compare them with the ſtate of things within ourſelves; and perhaps ns Wl we might from this compariſon come at p WM the ſolution of the difficulties which make the theory of viſion and of the ſenſes fo 15, WM intricate and ſo uncertain: But I own I not Wl cannot conceive what is to be hoped for aue from a man who has juſt undergone a painful operation on a very tender organ, which the ſlighteſt accident · diſorders, and which, when found, is known to deceive thoſe who. had ſor a long time enjoyed its advantages. For my part, as to the theory of the ſenſes, I had much rather hear a metaphyſician, well acquainted with the principles of natural philoſophy, the elements of mathematics, and the conformation of the parts, than a man of no education, and void of learning, who has had » LE T-T;SKR:O N has had his ſight reſtored to him by the ca.
taract · operation. I ſhould lay leſs ſtreſs on the anſwers of a perſon ſeeing for the fil time, than on the diſcoveries of a phil ſopher who had thoroughly digeſted hi ſubje& in the dark, or, to ſpeak pradi. cally, had put out his eyes, to be th: better acquainted with viſion.
In order to give ſome certainty to ex: periments, the ſubje& muſt at leaſt hay been prepared long before, been wel educated, and the better, if made a phil ſopher; but even for a philoſopher to make a philoſoper, is not the work of at hour; and what will it be, if he be not one? And it is ſtill much worſe, if he con ceits himſelf ſuch. The obſervations ſhould by no means be commenced til long after the operation. In order wi ben this, the patient ought to go through h Deſ cure in the dark, till his wound be thoroug- I 1 ly healed, and his eyes entirely ſound. own, . would not have him at firſt expoſed hic open day. If our own ſight is diſordere h: by the glare of a ſtrong light, * . | fect 2 — — * THE B LIND. ”1 fect will it not have on an organ which cannot but be extremely tender and ſenſible, having never yet felt any impreſſion W to blunt it?
But farther, it would ſtill be a very nice point to reap any benefit even from a ſubject thus prepared, and to adapt our queſtions ſo, that he may preciſely ſay only what paſſes in himſelf. This interrogatory ſhould likewiſe be before the academy; or rather, for avoiding a ſuperfluity of ſpectators, only ſuch as deſerve that diſtinction by their knowledge in philoſophy, anatomy, c. ſhould be invited to ſuch a meeting. It would be no diſparagement to the moſt profound ſcholars, or to men of the fineſt intellects. To prepare and queſton one born blind, would not have been beneath the combined talents of Newton, Deſcartes, Locke, Leibnitz.
I ſhall conclude this letter, which, I own, is already too long, with a queſtion which was propoſed ſome time ago, and wich my reflections on Saunderſon's ſinfler condition have ſhewn me to, have never never been abſolutely ſolved. Suppoſe one blind from his birth, and grown up to manhood, and who has been taught to diſtingwſh, by his touch, a cube and x globe.of the ſame metal, and nearly of the ſame bigneſs, ſo that when he touches either, he can tell which is the cube, and which the globe. Again, ſuppoſe the cube and the globe put on a table, and this blind perſon is made to ſee; and the queſtion is, if by ſeeing them without Ml © touching them, he will be able to diſtinguiſh Wi © them, and tell which is the cube, we which the globe? 0 This queſtion was firſt propoſed by M. Bl Molineux, who likewiſe ſet about ſolving ple it. The deciſion was, that the perſon W would not diſtinguiſh the globe from the ¶ kt.
cube: for, ſaid he, though experience has I bef taught him how the globe and the cube WW un affect his touch, he does not yet know WW '% that what affects his touch in ſuck and at ſuch a manner muſt affect his ſight thus Dan or thus; nor that the ſame ange pic of che cube which preſſes on his hand A Ni unequall, unequally, muſt appear to his eyes as in the cube.
4 tirely of M. Molineux's mind. The blind « man could not at firſt fight be able to « affirm with any certainty which was the globe and which the cube, if he only viewed them; though by handling them „guiſh them by the difference of their « figures, his touch bringing them to his « remembrance.”
Concerning this queſtion, the Abbe de Condillac, whoſe Efſay on the Origin of no WM pleaſure and improvement, and whoſe ex- ſon cellent Treatiſe on Syſtems accompanies this the letter, has a particular opinion. To lay before you the reaſons on which he bottoms, would be both needleſs, and envying jou the pleaſure of reading over again that work, in which they are ſer forth in a manner ſo entertaining and yet fo philoſopiical, as forbids my diſplacing them. I hall only obſerve, that they all tend to &monſtrate that the perſon born blind E ſces = THE BLIND. 73 Locke being conſulted, ſaid, „I am en- « he might confidently name and diſtin · Hunan Knowledge you read with fo much it muſt be from metaphyſical reaſons, — ſees not any thing, or ſees the ſphere and the cube as different; and that the conditions of theſe two bodies being of the ſame metal, and nearly of the ſame bigneſs, inſerted in the ſtate of the queſtion, are ſuperfluous, which cannot be diſputed; for, he might have ſaid, if there be no eſſential connection between the ſenſation of the ſight and the touch, as Meſſ. Locke and Molineux pretend, they muſt allow that a body may to the eye appear to have two feet diameter, which yet would vaniſh on being touch'd. The abb= however adds, that if the perſon born blind ſees bodies, diſcerns their figures, and ſtill heſitates what to think of them, - and thoſe not a little ſubtile, as you ſhall preſently ſee.
Thus here are two different opinions on the ſame queſtion, and between firltrate philoſophers. One would think, that after being canvaſſed by ſuch men as Molineux, Locke and Condillac, nothing th more could be ſaid; but ſo many of the Ne aces * "THE BLIND. 235 faces in which the ſame thing may be viewed, that it is not in the leaſt ſtrange, if they have not drained the ſubject. a They who declare for the blind man's diſtinguiſhing the cube from the ſphere, have ſet out with ſuppoſing a fact, which perhaps ought to have been examined; that is, whether a perſon born blind would be able to make uſe of his eyes immediately after being couched? All they have faid is, A perſon blind from his « birth, by comparing the ideas of the «* ſphere and cube which he has received © from the touch, with thoſe received from gi; | 1 * fight, will neceſſarily know them to be the | 1 * fame; that it would be very odd for him 0 ” * to ſay that the cube gives his ſight the ® idea of a ſphere, and the ſphere that of * a cube; that what by the touch he called * ſphere and cube, he from the ſight will call cube and ſphere.”
But how do their antagoniſts argue? They have in like manner ſuppoſed, that the perſon born blind could ſee immelately after his organ's being reſtored.
2 They aces % ESTER ON They ſuppoſed that an eye couched for x cataract was like an arm recovered from oh palſy. This,“ ſay they, “ feels with. cout any previous exerciſe, and conſe. = quently the other requires none to «"fee.” And they have added, Lo « us allow the perſon who was born blind da little more philoſophy than you afford « him; and after carrying his reaſoning « where-you left him, he will go on thus; „ But ſtill who has aſſured me, that when © J have come near to thoſe bodies, and % have laid my hands on them, they will not on a ſudden deceive my expecta- * tion, the cube imparting to me the « ſenſation of the ſphere, and the ſphere that of the cube? Experience alone <« can teach me whether there be an anoé logy between the ſight and the touch, « Theſe reports of the two ſenſes may * be contradictory without my knowing vac it; nay, I ſhould perhaps believe what WW con « is actually before my ſight to be only in: ce a mere appearance, had I not been in- abo: formed that they are the very ſame bodies ce which THE 5 END 77 > * « ſeems to be the body which I called « cube, and this the ſphere:; but I am « not aſked about what they ſeem, but « what they are? and that is a queſtion « which I am in no wiſe able to an- « ſwer.“ This reaſoning,” ſays the cs of the Eſay on the Origin of Human Knowledge, « would be very perplexing to him who- « had been born blind; and J ſee nothing « under experience which can furniſh an « anſwer to it.” The abbe, in all likelihood, means only that experience which the blind man himſelf would repeat on the bodies by a ſecond handling. You will ſoon perceive why I make this remark, 0. (That able metaphyſician might likewiſe ch. have farther added, that in one born blind the ſuppoſing two ſenſes to be contradictory ſhould be the leſs abſurd, as he conceives that a ſpeculum makes them in reality contradictory, as I have noticed above.
— ” LETTER ON The abbẽ proceeds to obſerve, that M. Molineux has perplexed the queſtion with ſeveral conditions, which neither obviate nor remove the - difficulties metaphyſics would form in one who had been blind from his birth: this obſervation is the more juſt, the ſuppoſing the blind man acquainted with metaphylics being not at all out of tne way; as the experiment in all philoſophical queſtions ſhould be ac. counted to be made on a philoſopher, that is, on a perſon who, in the queſtions propoſed to him, perceives all that rea- ſoning and the ſtate of his organs alloy him to perceive. | This, Madam, is in brief what has i © been ſaid pro and con on this queſtion; and you ſhall now ſee, by my examination of it, how very far they, who determined that the man born blind would ſee the figures and diſtinguiſh the bodies, were from perceiving that they were in the right, and what great reaſon they who denied it had to think that they were not in the wrong.
* The * The THE VETHNW. WD The queſtion about the man born blind being taken a little more generally than M. Molineux has propoſed it, includes two others, which we ſhall ſeparately conſider. It may be aſked, 1. Whe-_ ther he who was born blind will ſee immediately after his cataracts are couched? 2. Whether, in caſe he does ſee, his ſight will be ſuch as to diſtinguiſh figures; whether, in ſeeing them, he-will be able to give them, with certainty, the fame names which he gave them by the touch; and whether he will have any de- WW monſtration that theſe names ſuit them? Will he who was born blind ſee immediately after the cure of the organ? They who hold the affirmative ſay, As ſoon * as the blind man comes to the uſe of „his eyes, all the ſcene before him becomes painted at the bottom of his eye. This image, as conſiſting of an infinite number of objects, concentered within a very ſmall ſpace, is but a * confuſed heap of forms which he will not be able to diſtinguiſh from one E 4 „ ano- — - Ty — i) ile OE RG . s * * 4 * a a 3 — — r. = * <4 another. Both ſides are nearly agreed, * that experience alone can teach him to “judge of the diſtance of objects, and * „that he is even under a neceſſity of drawing near to. them, handling them, ** removing farther off from them, approaching them, and handling them a. gain, before he is aſſured that they <« are not a part of himſelf; that they are foreign from his eſſence, and that < he is ſometimes near, and ſometimes at a diftance from them. And why < ſhould not experience be likewiſe nee ceſlary to him for perceiving them? Without experience, he who perceives e Objects for the firſt time ſhould ima- „ gine, as they are going out of his <« fight, or he is going from them, that they no longer exiſt; for it is only ex- 0 perience on permanent objects, and « ſuch which we find again in the ſame „place where we left them, which evi « dences and confirms to us the continu- * ance of their exiſtence when out of our L. ſight. 3 may be for this reaſon, that *y 6 « children THEEFLIND Tre children become ſo ſoon eaſy about « their play-things - being taken from „them. It cannot be ſaid that they « quickly forget them; for ſome chil- « dren,. at the age of only two years or « two years and a half, know a conſide- « rable part of the words of a language, « and they are more at a loſs to conceive them than retain them: now this is a proof of childhood's being the very « tealon of memory. Would it not be © more natural to ſuppoſe, that children, % at that time, imagine what they no « longer ſee, exiſts no longer, and the rather, as their joy ſhews a great mixture « of wonder, on ſeeing again the objects * which had been taken from them? al Wl © Their nurſes help them in the notion -X- © of the continuance of abfent beings, nd ii © by a play, in ſuddenly hiding one's face, and ſhewing it again. Thus they experience a hundred times in a * quarter of an hour, that what ceaſes * to appear, does not therefore ceaſe to * exiſt, Whence it follows, that to ex- E.5 © perience; » * 9 * * 4 ä — perience, - and experience only, we owe the notion of the continued exiſtence of objects; that it is by the touch we acquire that of their diſtance; - that the eye, perhaps, learns to ſee, as the tongue to ſpeak; that it would not be ſtrange, ſhould the aſſiſtance of one of the ſenſes be neceſſary to another, and that the touch, which aſcertains the exiſtence of objects without us, when preſent to our eyes, is likewiſe the ſenſe to which the confirmation, not only of their figures, and other modifications, but even of their preſence, is reſerved.” To theſe reaſonings are added, Chef: ſelden's famous experiments. The youth, whoſe cataracts were couched by that eminent ſurgeon, could not, for a long time, diſtinguiſh either dimenſions, diſtances, ſituations, or even figures. An object not above an inch ſquare, being put Prone his eye, ſo as to hide a houſe from See The Elements of Newton's Philo/aphy, by l.
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* * F W 2 * * * N H 8 BLIND. #%; from him, ſeemed to him as.large as the houſe itſelf. All objects ſeemed cloſe to his eyes, as the objects of touch to the ſkin. He could not diſtinguiſh what, by means of his hands, he had judged to be round, from what he had conceived to be angular; nor diſcern with his eyes, whether what he had felt to be either above or below him, was really above or below. He, at length, but not without great trouble, came to perceive, that his houſe was larger than his room: but how the eye gave him that idea, he could not conceive. It was not till after many repeated experiments, that he became aſſured of paintings repreſenting ſolid bodies; and when, by viewing of pictures, he was certain that what he ſaw was not bare ſurfaces, on putting his hand to a picture, he ſtood quite amazed at finding only a flat plane, without any prominence, He then aſked where the deception lay, in the ſight or the touch? Painting likewiſe had the ſame effect on ſavages. They took the figures for living BO | men,