An Art Mystery: Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?

    If you have arrived here from Daily Kos to continue reading about the Rice Portrait, you're in luck! That story will continue in the next paragraph. If you are here to view information about Charles Dickens or Laura Bridgman, then you will need to scroll down to older posts here. Have fun!

An Art Mystery: Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? 

   
     Is that Jane Austen?

    We know what George Washington looked like; we have portraits. We know that Napoleon put his hand in his jacket and sported hair that would look swell on one of today’s club kids. We are familiar with the face of Leonardo da Vinci because of a self-portrait. There are glorious drawings, even photographs, of Charles Dickens. You can view busts of Cleopatra and Julius Caesar and Shakespeare.
     But what did Jane Austen look like?
     The picture above is a detail from what some believe is the only professional portrait of Jane Austen. She is the iconic writer of such books as Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility and Mansfield Park. Those books and others eventually became movies and television dramas, making her a world-wide legend with a legion of devoted fans.
     But is it a portrait of Jane Austen?
     That is our mystery.
    So, let us journey together into a precarious opacity that could be described as a lion’s den filled with land mines, angry badgers, hornets’ nests, still more land mines, you and I, and, of course, lions; the latter feeling justly put-upon because their den is now uncomfortably crowded. You see, there are decades-long grudges regarding the provenance of this painting.
     Proper British grudges.     
     At daily kos, we looked at one aspect of the provenance of that painting. Here we look at all of the others.

  Our Cast of Characters

     The National Portrait Gallery (London):  Is it the trusted guardian of Art for the Commonwealth and the common good, fending off insubstantial works that lack the requisite provenance, or is it more interested in protecting its institutional reputation and shielding its own drawing of Jane Austen?
     Jacob Simon:  Canvas-stamp expert, working for the National Gallery to discover the truth, or company man who will fidget his opinions to save his employer some face?
     Deirdre Le Faye:  Famed Austen scholar and warrior in the fight to preserve and recognize only the truth about Jane Austen, or is she interested in claiming Jane Austen as her personal fiefdom, warning off trespassers?
     The Rices:  It is called the Rice portrait because it belongs to the Rice family, who are descendants of the author. Are they interested in presenting a true likeness of Jane Austen or benefiting from a sale that, if the portrait is acclaimed as true, might reach into the millions of pounds?
     Ellie Bennett:  A truth-seeker on the side of the Rice family, or is she a book-seller, looking to sell books? (Who also happens to have a name that is coincidentally very similar to the hero from Pride and Prejudice.). Deirdre Le Faye and Ellie Bennett have been the mongoose and serpent locked in mortal combat over this issue for years.
     Reverend Doctor Thomas Harding Newman:  Family friend to the Austens and the Rices who safeguarded this portrait for years until his heir turned it over to the Rice family, or trickster and occasional forger, who sought to play his last and greatest trick … from beyond the grave!
     Remember, my friends, first impressions can be wrong.

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     The Rice Provenance

     It is claimed that a great uncle, Francis Austen, who was also a wealthy man, commissioned the portrait while Jane was about 13 years of age and while the family was visiting his estate. Frances Austen’s wife was Jane Austen’s Godmother. Through the years, the work has been variously attributed to Johann Zoffany, George Romney and finally, Ozias Humphry.
     The portrait passed from Francis Austen to his eldest son. Then, the painting became the property of Colonel Thomas Austen, who would have known Jane the author. From there, it was given as a wedding gift to Elizabeth Harding Newman. When she passed, it devolved to her step-son, the Reverend Doctor Thomas Harding Newman. (For a more detailed account of the claimed provenance, including the relationships between the parties, please click on this link.).
     The Reverend intended to will the portrait to a descendant of Jane Austen but never got around to formally executing that change to his will. His nephew gave it to that descendant of Jane Austen, Moorland Rice, and it has passed along the Rice family line since then.
      In the 1930s, it is said that the National Portrait Gallery, London, attempted to purchase the portrait for its collection. In the 1940s, various scholars questioned the authenticity of the painting based on the costume. It was alleged that the dress worn by the sitter was not contemporary with the time during which the portrait must have been painted.
     The National Gallery granted the owners an export license, and the portrait was offered for auction by Christie’s in the United States in 2007. It failed to sell. The minimum acceptable bid was not met.

     In an Alternate Universe

     This is mainly a thought experiment, but I do think it has value to inform about the nature of provenance. Provenance, which is a fancy term for the authentication of a work of Art, is a very elusive concept that seems to be fluid from one painting to the next. There are no set rules.
     So, with that said, let us journey back to the 1930s.
     A buffoon with genocidal intentions has usurped control of Germany; the Great War, or the war to end all wars, is not yet called the First World War; there exists a worldwide depression; and the Rice portrait is sold to the London National Portrait Gallery. Instead of remaining in the Rice family, the portrait becomes the property of the Commonwealth and is one of the shining stars of their portrait museum. Remember, the National Gallery sought to purchase the portrait in the 1930s, but negotiations failed. In our thought experiment, everything is the same except that the National Gallery did purchase it.
     The painting is nearly life-size. It is lush and gorgeous. It depicts one of the greatest writers in world history. And she is adorable! It is the gallery’s jewel.
     That’s because, once the National Gallery decides that the painting is authentic, for all intents and purposes, it is authentic. The person depicted is Jane Austen. The painting is ascribed to a remarkable portraitist, such as Johann Zoffany or George Romney, and although authorship might change, its subject matter is never questioned. The sitter is the writer of Sense and Sensibility and other delights. That’s because large museums have that kind of power. They hire and retain experts whose job it is to study these matters. Moreover, large museums have very little incentive to rock the boat if a little contrary evidence emerges.
     That is why institutions like the National Gallery must be careful in first selecting a piece.
     But for the shaking of hands and a little money passing in the 1930s, we would all view the Rice portrait as an authentic rendering of Jane Austen. We don’t live in that universe, though, so we must proceed with our investigation.

     A Standard for Provenance

    As an attorney, I have conducted civil and criminal jury trials. During each, the standard is well known. For civil cases, the standard of proof is usually “by a preponderance of the evidence.” I have described that to jurors as fifty-one percent of the credible evidence favoring my client.
    In criminal cases, the usual standard is “beyond a reasonable doubt.” Again, a very easily defined standard: If you have a reasonable doubt about the defendant’s guilt, then you must find the defendant not guilty.
    Science has its own standards. To become a theory, a proposition must be falsifiable. That is, it must be susceptible of being re-tested, as well as tested against established evidence and known facts. A scientific theory is never perfected, as there is always the possibility that evidence will be discovered that proves inconsistent with the theory.
    Which brings us to the standard for provenance. Provenance is basically proof of a chain of custody, from the artist’s easel to the first owner to the next and so on. This is usually accomplished with contemporary documentation that may take the form of descriptions in auctions, tax and sales slips, inventories, catalogs, diaries or other then-current writings. It can also be aided by scientific testing.
    In the end, the provenance of a well-known painting comes down to the opinions of a “jury.” That jury consists of the leading scholars in that particular artistic discipline.

The Reverend Doctor Thomas Harding Newman

     Nobody is as essential to the provenance of the Rice portrait as the good Doctor. His step-mother was supposedly gifted the painting. When it devolved to him, the Reverend hung it up in his quarters in Oxford, where he was a don. And it was his tenure there that brought him a little publicity.
     The good Reverend was a practical joker.
     There are memoirs and accounts written by others about their Oxford education. Doctor Harding Newman featured prominently in a number of the stories. He spent “all his superfluous time in playing practical jokes.” He impersonated others, forged signatures, and caught fake fish “ingeniously constructed of cardboard overlaid with tinfoil.”
     Even his obituary noted that he “was brimful of tricks.”
     Most damning of all, though, is that the same obituary, which was reproduced in two very noteworthy periodicals, indicated that the Reverend “would buy an old picture at some one of the Wych Street shops for a song, touch it up in accordance with his intuitions, and exhibit it to his friends as a genuine old master.”
     Doctor Harding Newman was a forger, a somewhat talented painter and a practical joker. There is no written documentation of the painting’s existence before he came into its possession. He had intended to bequeath the painting to a colleague at Oxford, a Morland Rice, but he never finished the formal paperwork. His nephew, knowing of the intended gift, provided the painting to that Rice/Austen descendant.
     What should we make of this? Doctor Harding Newman was a practical joker, not a criminal. His shenanigans were cheeky and fun, not cruel and tragic. He was in it for the laughs, and, as a moderately wealthy man, he did not need the money. The painting was a gift.
     Still, we must keep our one good eye on our friend, the good Reverend.

     Costume

     The reason the National Gallery gave for not purchasing the portrait in the 1940s was because of costume. Fashion experts claimed that a muslin dress like the one worn by the Rice portrait sitter was not worn in England until the 1800s, and not in the late 1700s, when the portrait was assumed to have been painted.

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     The proponents of the Rice portrait, including the Rices and Ellie Bennett have discovered a number of examples of that kind of dress being worn about that time. The little girl in the miniature is one example. That is a very similar dress, complete with the same ribbon around the upper abdomen, the puffy sleeves and the wide and low decolletage.
     Moreover, it has been established by Austen scholars that female relatives traveled to France around the time of the portrait and would likely have returned with the latest in Parisian fashions. It also must be noted that a girl being painted by a professional artist would be dressed in the finest and latest.

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     Remember when your mother forced you to abandon the t-shirt in lieu of a collared shirt on school picture day? When she rounded up the lot of you, dressed you up and took you to Sears for the family portrait? As we will soon learn below, portrait paintings were unbelievably expensive at this time. Just based on the cost, one would expect a sitter to take great care in her or his appearance.
     Here we see another dress that looked similar to the one sported by the Rice portrait sitter. The long and deep decolletage is similar, and there is a tiny “girdle ribbon” beneath the bust. It should be remembered that the great factories that abound today, with electric equipment and machines stamping out dresses by the thousands, following a template, didn’t exist in the late 1700s. Austen lore is replete with stories about how young women would spruce up their own mocked-up dresses and hats.
     For other examples of dresses that are similar, including one worn by Princess Sophia, please click on this link. Some of these paintings have questionable dates on them just because records are spotty. But, it seems that the argument that the costume was time-inappropriate for the Rice portrait has been abandoned.
     Or, it should be.

     Cost

     According to Art Historians, “in the early nineteenth century the best portrait artists charged about thirty guineas for a miniature and about three hundred guineas for an oil painting.” This is an important clue, as Jane Austen came from a family that was not wealthy. This is why the portrait, if it is of Jane Austen, must have been commissioned by a wealthy benefactor.
     A three hundred guinea portrait in 1800 would cost over $25,000.00 today. A thirty guinea miniature in 1800 would require a payment of over $2,500.00 in today’s dollars. To put that into perspective, Austen made £140 from Sense and Sensibility and £110 from Pride and Prejudice. (In 1805, a guinea was worth about 1.05 of a pound.).
     There are miniatures of the brothers, or as others have called them, sarcastically, “the important ones” in the family. That was a wry observation about the patriarchal society in England at the time. Yet, those very same chauvinists purchased a nearly life-size portrait of Jane? She was her father’s darling. He recognized the worth of her novels and worked to get them published. Still, she was hardly recognized as a professional writer, much less an icon, at the time this portrait would have been painted.
     Coincidentally, Ozias Humphry, the painter thought to have rendered the Rice portrait has, in his account books held by the British Library, “My bill on you [Francis Austen], for pictures at Kippington, 30 pounds, 7 shillings.” Unless there had been an earlier massive payment as an advance, this suggests a miniature or two.
     It is known that Ozias Humphry did paint Francis Austen.
     Still, it is known that Jane Austen's Godmother was very wealthy. She was married to Francis Austen. Commissioning a portrait for a favorite Goddaughter sounds like something that would happen. Moreover, if the painting happened while Austen was in her twenties, this might be something a rich Godmother might do to celebrate a blossoming career. Jane Austen wrote Sense and Sensibility at the age of 19; she was 21 when she penned Pride and Prejudice.

     This Unfortunate Scratch and Its Progeny

     At the National Portrait Gallery in London, there is a likeness of Jane Austen supposedly drafted by her sister, Cassandra Austen. You can see it below and to the left. Unsatisfied with that portrait, which a wag once called “this unfortunate scratch,” later descendants had a professional artist give the rendering a makeover. That you see on the right.

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     For you Austen readers, you might have recognized the phrase “this unfortunate scratch.” It was first penned by the icon herself:

     “But unfortunately in bestowing these embraces, a pin in her ladyship's head dress slightly scratching the child's neck, produced from this pattern of gentleness such violent screams, as could hardly be outdone by any creature professedly noisy. The mother's consternation was excessive; but it could not surpass the alarm of the Miss Steeles, and every thing was done by all three, in so critical an emergency, which affection could suggest as likely to assuage the agonies of the little sufferer. She was seated in her mother's lap, covered with kisses, her wound bathed with lavender-water, by one of the Miss Steeles, who was on her knees to attend her, and her mouth stuffed with sugar plums by the other. With such a reward for her tears, the child was too wise to cease crying. She still screamed and sobbed lustily, kicked her two brothers for offering to touch her, and all their united soothings were ineffectual till Lady Middleton luckily remembering that in a scene of similar distress last week, some apricot marmalade had been successfully applied for a bruised temple, the same remedy was eagerly proposed for this unfortunate scratch, and a slight intermission of screams in the young lady on hearing it, gave them reason to hope that it would not be rejected.”
(emphasis added) Jane Austen, SENSE AND SENSIBILITY, Chapter XXI (1811).  

     I love the Cassandra drawing, as it shows a very serious person in a very serious mood. But is it authentic? What of its provenance? That mystery may have to wait for another day. Instead, let me show you the portrait of Jane Austen that has the best provenance:

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     This was also done by Cassandra Austen, and it shows almost all of Jane, except her face. Still, what better way to depict a writer than her looking off into the distance?

     Facial Recognition Software

     Using a facial recognition software program called Rekognition from Amazon Web Services, I sought to compare some of the Austen portraits. I am not privy to the software’s algorithm, or to knowledge of its weaknesses. I have used it in the past, though, and it has generally succeeded to match faces that should match (with a notable Presidential exception).

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     As you can see, the Cassandra drawing is not a match to the Rice portrait. It could be that the different pitch and yaw of the heads has thrown off the calculation. Or, it could be that it is simply not a match.

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     Above, we see a match, but you would expect it to be. The professional artist who painted the depiction on the right was working from the drawing on the left.

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     Again, no match.

     The New Austen Tenner!

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    Back in July of this year, the Bank of England introduced a plastic ten pound note featuring the portraits of two ladies. One is easily identifiable as the Queen of England. The other may be Jane Austen. The BoE placed a quotation under the larger portrait that was cribbed from Pride and Prejudice. It reads: “I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading.”

“The trouble is that these words are spoken by one of Austen’s most deceitful characters, a woman who has no interest in books at all: Caroline Bingley. She is sidling up to Mr. Darcy, whom she would like to hook as a husband, and pretending that she shares his interests. He is reading a book.”

    Then, there’s the fact that the so-called portrait of Jane Austen is a romanticized version of the so-called drawing allegedly made by her sister, Cassandra Austen. Still, it is great to see this. It is especially interesting to note that the Austen Tenner replaced the old one picturing Charles Darwin. That’s exceedingly fine company!

     A Longing to Know

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     You can see in the excerpt from a very old newspaper on the right that there was a great deal of interest in Jane Austen in the United States back in 1906, before the advent of movies or television dramas.
     Is this a Fan Club?
     Back in the old “Indian Territory,” folks gathered to discuss the life and times of Jane Austen. Most importantly for our purposes, you can see that those fans of Austen were desperately interested in what she looked like.
     One of the presenters, a Mrs. W. P. Thompson was to offer a “Pen portrait of Jane Austen and characterization.” Was this an actual portrait of the famed Jane Austen? Of course not. But it does tell us two things.
     A great curiosity about Jane Austen’s likeness has existed as long as readers have adored her novels. Also, people may have been creating their own “likenesses” of the author based upon what little description existed of her features and what the artist saw in her mind’s eye.
     How many “fan fiction” portraits were created that may turn up at a later date to be called potentially true portraits of Jane Austen? Not in the United States, of course, but in England.
     As you can see below, the desire to know of the appearance of Jane Austen was on the minds of North Carolinians back in 1902:

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     Whenever there’s a void in a potential market, that void gets filled.

     The 1910 Photograph of the Rice Portrait

     The very same photographer who took a picture of the Rice Portrait in 1883 also took a picture of it in 1910. That photograph has lead to a great deal of controversy. It makes me think that the portrait may, in fact, be haunted. Think of The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde.
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Picture_of_Dorian_Gray
     Here’s the magic: Unlike the earlier photo of the painting, the 1910 specimen appears to depict writing in the upper right-hand corner of the painting. That writing, tested by forensic specialists, seems to say “Jane Austen” and “Ozias Humphry.”

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     Both the 1883 and 1910 originals of these photographs are maintained by the National Portrait Gallery in London. But why would that information appear in the upper right-hand corner of a painting? It makes no sense. The artist had the entire back of the painting to put informational matter, or, like other artists, he could have signed the painting at the bottom.
     Why didn’t the writing show up in the earlier photograph? Why is it missing from later examples? Art restoration could be an answer. I don’t believe that ghosts are involved (at least not very involved). Here is an enlargement of the “writing”:

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     After some enhancement using a computer program, it becomes somewhat legible in the figure below. This is what they have claimed to be written above:

Ozia RA_ _ _ _ Humphry

Jane Austen _7

Ozia Humphry RA178_

     The Jenny on the Parasol

     Using detailed close-up photography, the Rices believe they have discovered the name “Jenny” written by someone’s hand on the parasol in the portrait. If that is true, it would be evidence of provenance. You see, Jane Austen’s nickname in the family when she was a young lass was Jenny.
     There is a letter sent by Jane Austen’s father to a relative about the birth of the future icon. In it, he notes that “She is to be Jenny.” In the same letter, he refers to his other offspring by their pet names, including Janes sister Cassandra (“Cassy”), as well as her brothers Edward (“Neddy”) and Henry (“Harry”). Do you see the name Jenny on the photographs below?

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     The Linen Stamps

     Back in the day, canvas was an important item for the British. It powered their ships. They taxed it and required that each seller of the product affix its stamp on the canvas. This has been a bone of contention among the various factions.

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     The National Gallery faction, especially the canvas-stamp expert Jacob Simon, points to a canvas seller that went by the trade name of W & J Legg. The Rice faction points to other William Leggs who sold canvas. This is important because W & J Legg didn’t begin selling canvas until at least 1805.
     This, I believe, is the National Gallery’s best argument against the Rice provenance. Their argument about costume has been debunked in my eyes. Any claims that the Reverend Doctor Thomas Harding Newman fabricated the provenance (and the portrait) are also debunked by the fact that when he passed on the portrait, there were still people alive who would’ve known Jane Austen. Those folks didn’t raise a hue and cry about it.
     If the Rice faction can find an example of a stamp like the one on their portrait, as distinguished from the W & J Legg specimens, they would go a long way to establishing, once and for all, the authenticity of their portrait.

What the Great-Nephews and Great-Nieces said

     The owner of the portrait, Mr. Morland Rice, said that the painting was “of a girl of 15.” One great-nephew indicated that the portrait, “if genuine, must be of a girl of 14 or 15.” Another great-nephew called it “a True Bill.” The great-niece asserted that “it is of my great Aunt Jane Austen.”
     There also existed an older relative who grew up with Jane Austen, and he claimed that the portrait was authentic. 

 

     The pictures above are photographs of the Rice Portrait. The picture on the right is a modern photograph. The one on the left was taken in 1883. Do they look different to you? I believe that the 1883 photograph shows what the portrait originally looked like, and a later retouching gave us the "Glamour Package" version of Jane Austen. The earlier photograph would coincide with somebody claiming that it showed a girl of 14 or 15.

     Conclusion

    Reputations are at stake. “If the portrait is confirmed as being Austen, it may be an embarrassment to the National Portrait Gallery, which granted the picture a license for sale abroad on the basis that it could not be the writer.” The Daily Mail, June 9, 2012. A fortune can be gained. I have yet to conclude that the portrait is that of Jane Austen. I think the answer will be found, one day, in Science.
     In the interim, I believe that the Rice portrait does depict Jane Austen, and although retouched, gives us a precious view of her likeness.

THE STORY OF LAURA BRIDGMAN

     If you have come from Daily Kos to read the story of Laura Bridgman, you are in luck! I have copied and pasted it below this paragraph. A couple of short notes: (1) The story comes from Chapter III of Charles Dickens' book American Notes for General Circulation. That book is mostly a travelogue of his journeys in America in 1842, the year before he wrote A Christmas Carol. (2) The story of Laura Bridgman is so powerful that Dickens simply used much of what was written by Samuel Gridley Howe. The bit that I cut out starts out in Dickens' voice, though, with Howe's showing up as quoted material. Here it is:


It is a great and pleasant feature of all such institutions in America, that they are either supported by the State or assisted by the State; or (in the event of their not needing its helping hand) that they act in concert with it, and are emphatically the people's. I cannot but think, with a view to the principle and its tendency to elevate or depress the  character of the industrious classes, that a Public Charity is immeasurably better than a Private Foundation, no matter how munificently the latter may be endowed. In our own country, where it has not, until within these later days, been a very popular fashion with governments to display any extraordinary regard for the great mass of the people or to  recognise their existence as improvable creatures, private charities, unexampled in the history of the earth, have arisen, to do an incalculable amount of good among the destitute and afflicted. But the government of the country, having neither act nor part in them, is not in the receipt of any portion of the gratitude they inspire; and, offering very little shelter or relief beyond that which is to be found in the workhouse and the jail, has come, not unnaturally, to be looked upon by the poor rather as a  stern master, quick to correct and punish, than a kind protector, merciful and vigilant in their hour of need.

...

The Perkins Institution and Massachusetts Asylum for the Blind, at Boston, is superintended by a body of trustees who make an annual report to the corporation. The indigent blind of that state are admitted gratuitously. Those from the adjoining state of Connecticut, or from the states of Maine, Vermont, or New Hampshire, are admitted by a warrant from the state to which they respectively belong; or, failing that, must find security among their friends, for the payment of about twenty pounds English for their first year's board and instruction, and ten for the second. 'After the first year,' say the trustees, 'an account current will be opened with each pupil; he will be charged with the actual cost of his board, which will not exceed two dollars per week;' a trifle more than eight shillings English; 'and he will be credited with the amount paid for him by the state, or by his friends; also with his earnings over and above the cost of the stock which he uses; so that all his earnings over one dollar per will be his own. By the third year it will be known whether his earnings will more than pay the actual cost of his board; if they should, he will have it at his option to remain and receive his earnings, or not. Those who prove unable to earn their own livelihood will not be retained; as it is not desirable to convert the establishment into an alms­house, or to retain any but working bees in the hive.  Those who by physical or mental imbecility are disqualified from work, are thereby disqualified from being members of an industrious community; and they can be better provided for in establishments fitted for the infirm.'

I went to see this place one very fine winter morning: an Italian sky above, and the air so clear and bright on every side, that even my eyes, which are none of the best, could follow the minute lines and scraps of tracery in distant buildings. Like most other public institutions in America, of the same class, it stands a mile or two without the town, in a cheerful healthy spot; and is an airy, spacious, handsome edifice. It is built upon a height, commanding the harbour. When I paused for a moment at the door, and marked how fresh and free the whole scene was what sparkling bubbles glanced upon the waves, and welled up every moment to the surface, as though the world below, like that above, were radiant with the bright day, and gushing over in its fulness of light: when I gazed from sail to sail away upon a ship at sea, a tiny speck of shining white, the only cloud upon the still, deep, distant blue and, turning, saw a blind boy with his sightless face addressed that way, as though he too had some sense within him of the glorious distance: I felt a kind of sorrow that the place should be so very light, and a strange wish that for his sake it were darker. It was but momentary, of course, and a mere fancy, but I felt it keenly for all that.

The children were at their daily tasks in different rooms, except a few who were already dismissed, and were at play. Here, as in many institutions, no uniform is worn; and I was very glad of it, for two reasons. Firstly, because I am sure that nothing but senseless custom and want of thought would reconcile us to the liveries and badges we are so fond of at home. Secondly, because the absence of these things presents each child to the visitor in his or her own proper character, with its individuality unimpaired; not lost in a dull, ugly, monotonous repetition of the same unmeaning garb: which is really an important consideration. The wisdom of encouraging a little harmless pride in personal appearance even among the blind, or the whimsical absurdity of considering charity and leather breeches inseparable companions, as we do, requires no comment.

Good order, cleanliness, and comfort, pervaded every corner of the building. The various classes, who were gathered round their teachers, answered the questions put to them with readiness and  intelligence, and in a spirit of cheerful contest for precedence which pleased me very much. Those who were at play, were gleesome and noisy as other children. More spiritual and affectionate friendships appeared to exist among them, than would be found among other young persons suffering under no deprivation; but this I expected and was prepared to find. It is a part of the great scheme of Heaven's merciful consideration for the afflicted.

In a portion of the building, set apart for that purpose, are work­shops for blind persons whose education is finished, and who have acquired a trade, but who cannot pursue it in an ordinary manufactory because of their deprivation. Several people were at work here; making brushes, mattresses, and so forth; and the cheerfulness, industry, and good order discernible in every other  part of the building, extended to this department also.

On the ringing of a bell, the pupils all repaired, without any guide or leader, to a spacious music­hall, where they took their seats in an orchestra erected for that purpose, and listened with manifest delight to a voluntary on the organ, played by one of themselves. At its conclusion, the performer, a boy of nineteen or twenty, gave place to a girl; and to her accompaniment they all sang a hymn, and afterwards a sort of chorus. It was very sad to look upon and hear them, happy though their condition unquestionably was; and I saw that one blind girl, who (being for the time deprived of the use of her limbs, by illness) sat close beside me with her face towards them, wept silently the while she  listened.

It is strange to watch the faces of the blind, and see how free they are from all concealment of what is passing in their thoughts; observing which, a man with eyes may blush to contemplate the mask he wears. Allowing for one shade of anxious expression which is never absent from their countenances, and the like of which we may readily detect in our own faces if we try to feel our way in the dark, every idea, as it rises within them, is expressed with the lightning's speed and nature's truth. If the company at a rout, or drawing­room at court, could only for one time be as unconscious of the eyes upon them as blind men and women are, what secrets would come out, and what a worker of hypocrisy this sight, the loss of which we so much pity, would appear to be!

The thought occurred to me as I sat down in another room, before a girl, blind, deaf, and dumb; destitute of smell; and nearly so of taste: before a fair young creature with every human faculty, and  hope, and power of goodness and affection, inclosed within her delicate frame, and but one outward sense,­ the sense of touch. There she was, before me; built up, as it were, in a marble cell, impervious to any ray of light, or particle of sound; with her poor white hand peeping through a chink in the wall, beckoning to some good man for help, that an Immortal soul might be awakened.

Long before I looked upon her, the help had come. Her face was radiant with intelligence and pleasure. Her hair, braided by her own hands, was bound about a head, whose intellectual capacity and development were beautifully expressed in its graceful outline, and its broad open brow; her dress, arranged by herself, was a pattern of neatness and simplicity; the work she had knitted, lay beside her; her writing­book was on the desk she leaned upon. From the mournful ruin of such bereavement, there had slowly risen up this gentle, tender, guileless, grateful­hearted being.

Like other inmates of that house, she had a green ribbon bound round her eyelids. A doll she had dressed lay near upon the ground. I took it up, and saw that she had made a green fillet such as she wore herself, and fastened it about its mimic eyes.

She was seated in a little enclosure, made by school­desks and forms, writing her daily journal. But soon finishing this pursuit, she engaged in an animated conversation with a teacher who sat beside her. This was a favourite mistress with the poor pupil. If she could see the face of her fair instructress, she would not love her less, I am sure.

I have extracted a few disjointed fragments of her history, from an account, written by that one man who has made her what she is. It is a very beautiful and touching narrative; and I wish I could present it entire.

Her name is Laura Bridgman. 'She was born in Hanover, New Hampshire, on the twenty­first of December, 1829. She is described as having been a very sprightly and pretty infant, with bright blue  eyes. She was, however, so puny and feeble until she was a year and a half old, that her parents hardly hoped to rear her. She was subject to severe fits, which seemed to rack her frame almost beyond her power of endurance: and life was held by the feeblest tenure: but when a year and a half old, she seemed to rally; the dangerous symptoms subsided; and at twenty months old, she was perfectly well.

'Then her mental powers, hitherto stinted in their growth, rapidly developed themselves; and during the four months of health which she enjoyed, she appears (making due allowance for a fond mother's account) to have displayed a considerable degree of intelligence.

'But suddenly she sickened again; her disease raged with great violence during five weeks, when her eyes and ears were inflamed, suppurated, and their contents were discharged. But though sight and hearing were gone for ever, the poor child's sufferings were not ended. The fever raged during seven weeks; for five months she was kept in bed in a darkened room; it was a year before she could walk unsupported, and two years before she could sit up all day. It was now observed that her sense of smell was almost entirely destroyed; and, consequently, that her taste was much blunted.

'It was not until four years of age that the poor child's bodily health seemed restored, and she was able to enter upon her apprenticeship of life and the world.

'But what a situation was hers! The darkness and the silence of the tomb were around her: no mother's smile called forth her answering smile, no father's voice taught her to imitate his sounds:­ they, brothers and sisters, were but forms of matter which resisted her touch, but which differed not from the furniture of the house, save in warmth, and in the power of locomotion; and not even in these respects from the dog and the cat.

'But the immortal spirit which had been implanted within her could not die, nor be maimed nor mutilated; and though most of its avenues of communication with the world were cut off, it began to  manifest itself through the others.  As soon as she could walk, she began to explore the room, and then the house; she became familiar with the form, density, weight, and heat, of every article she could lay her hands upon. She followed her mother, and felt her hands and arms, as she was occupied about the house; and her disposition to imitate, led her to repeat everything herself. She  even learned to sew a little, and to knit.'

The reader will scarcely need to be told, however, that the opportunities of communicating with her, were very, very limited; and that the moral effects of her wretched state soon began to appear. Those who cannot be enlightened by reason, can only be controlled by force; and this, coupled with her great privations, must soon have  reduced her to a worse condition than that of the beasts that perish, but for timely and unhoped­for aid.

'At this time, I was so fortunate as to hear of the child, and immediately hastened to Hanover to see her. I found her with a well­formed figure; a strongly­marked, nervous­ sanguine temperament; a large and beautifully­shaped head; and the whole system in healthy action. The parents were easily induced to consent to her coming to Boston, and on the 4th of October, 1837, they brought her to the Institution.

'For a while, she was much bewildered; and after waiting about two weeks, until she became acquainted with her new locality, and somewhat familiar with the inmates, the attempt was made to give her knowledge of arbitrary signs, by which she could interchange thoughts with others.

'There was one of two ways to be adopted: either to go on to build up a language of signs on the basis of the natural language which she had already commenced herself, or to teach her the purely arbitrary language in common use: that is, to give her a sign for every individual thing, or to give her a knowledge of letters by combination of which she might express her idea of the existence, and the mode and condition of existence, of any thing. The former would have been easy, but very ineffectual; the latter seemed very difficult, but, if accomplished, very effectual. I determined therefore to try the latter.

'The first experiments were made by taking articles in common use, such as knives, forks, spoons, keys, &c., and pasting upon them labels with their names printed in raised letters. These she felt very carefully, and soon, of course, distinguished that the crooked lines SPOON, differed as much from the crooked lines KEY, as the spoon differed from the key in form.

'Then small detached labels, with the same words printed upon them, were put into her hands; and she soon observed that they were similar to the ones pasted on the articles.' She showed her perception of this similarity by laying the label KEY upon the key, and the label SPOON upon the spoon. She was encouraged here by the natural sign of approbation, patting on the head.

'The same process was then repeated with all the articles which she could handle; and she very easily learned to place the proper labels upon them. It was evident, however, that the only intellectual exercise was that of imitation and memory. She recollected  that the label BOOK was placed upon a book, and she repeated the process first from imitation, next from memory, with only the motive of love of approbation, but apparently without the  intellectual perception of any relation between the things.

'After a while, instead of labels, the individual letters were given to her on detached bits of paper: they were arranged side by side so as to spell BOOK, KEY, &c.; then they were mixed up in a heap and a sign was made for her to arrange them herself so as to express the words BOOK, KEY, &c.; and she did so.

'Hitherto, the process had been mechanical, and the success about as great as teaching a very knowing dog a variety of tricks. The poor child had sat in mute amazement, and patiently imitated everything her teacher did; but now the truth began to flash upon her: her intellect began to work: she perceived that here was a way by which she could herself make up a sign of anything that was in her mind, and show it to another mind; and at once her countenance lighted up with a human expression:  it was no longer a dog, or parrot: it was an immortal spirit, eagerly seizing upon a new link of union  with other spirits! I could almost fix upon the moment when this truth dawned upon her mind, and spread its light to her countenance; I saw that the great obstacle was overcome; and that henceforward nothing but patient and persevering, but plain and straightforward, efforts were to be used.

'The result thus far, is quickly related, and easily conceived; but not so was the process; for many weeks of apparently unprofitable labour were passed before it was effected.

'When it was said above that a sign was made, it was intended to say, that the action was performed by her teacher, she feeling his hands, and then imitating the motion.

'The next step was to procure a set of metal types, with the different letters of the alphabet cast upon their ends; also a board, in which were square holes, into which holes she could set the types; so that the letters on their ends could alone be felt above the surface.

'Then, on any article being handed to her, for instance, a pencil, or a watch, she would select the component letters, and arrange them on her board, and read them with apparent pleasure.

'She was exercised for several weeks in this way, until her vocabulary became extensive; and then the important step was taken of teaching her how to represent the different letters by the position of her fingers, instead of the cumbrous apparatus of the board and types. She accomplished this speedily and easily, for her intellect had begun to work in aid of her teacher, and her progress was rapid.

'This was the period, about three months after she had commenced, that the first report of her case was made, in which it was stated that "she has just learned the manual alphabet, as used by the deaf mutes, and it is a subject of delight and wonder to see how rapidly, correctly, and eagerly, she goes on with her labours. Her teacher gives her a new object, for instance, a pencil, first lets her examine it, and get an idea of its use, then teaches her how to spell it by making the signs for the letters with her own fingers: the child grasps her hand, and feels her fingers, as the different letters are formed; she turns her head a little on one side like a person listening closely; her lips are apart; she seems scarcely to breathe; and her countenance, at first anxious, gradually changes to a smile, as she  comprehends the lesson. She then holds up her tiny fingers, and spells the word in the manual alphabet; next, she takes her types and arranges her letters; and last, to make sure that she is right, she takes the whole of the types composing the word, and places them upon or in contact with the pencil, or whatever the object may be."

'The whole of the succeeding year was passed in gratifying her eager inquiries for the names of every object which she could possibly handle; in exercising her in the use of the manual alphabet; in extending in every possible way her knowledge of the physical relations of things; and in proper care of her health.

'At the end of the year a report of her case was made, from which the following is an extract.

'"It has been ascertained beyond the possibility of doubt, that she cannot see a ray of light, cannot hear the least sound, and never exercises her sense of smell, if she have any. Thus her mind dwells in darkness and stillness, as profound as that of a closed tomb at midnight. Of beautiful sights, and sweet sounds, and pleasant odours, she has no conception; nevertheless, she seems as happy and playful as a bird or a lamb; and the employment of her intellectual faculties, or the acquirement of a new idea, gives her a vivid pleasure, which is plainly marked in her expressive features. She never seems to repine, but has all the buoyancy and gaiety of childhood. She is fond of fun and frolic, and when playing with the rest of the children, her shrill laugh sounds loudest of the group.

'"When left alone, she seems very happy if she have her knitting or sewing, and will busy herself for hours; if she have no occupation, she evidently amuses herself by imaginary dialogues, or by recalling past impressions; she counts with her fingers, or spells out names of things which she has recently learned, in the manual alphabet of the deaf mutes. In this lonely self­communion she seems to reason, reflect, and argue; if she spell a word wrong with the fingers of her right hand, she instantly strikes it with her left, as her teacher does, in sign of disapprobation; if right, then she pats herself upon the head, and looks pleased. She sometimes purposely spells a wrong word with the left hand, looks roguish for a moment and laughs, and then with the right hand strikes the left, as if to correct it.

'"During the year she has attained great dexterity in the use of the manual alphabet of the deaf mutes; and she spells out the words and sentences which she knows, so fast and so deftly, that only those accustomed to this language can follow with the eye the rapid motions of her fingers.

'"But wonderful as is the rapidity with which she writes her thoughts upon the air, still more so is the ease and accuracy with which she reads the words thus written by another; grasping their hands in hers, and following every movement of their fingers, as letter after letter conveys their meaning to her mind. It is in this way that she converses with her blind playmates, and nothing can more forcibly show the power of mind in forcing matter to its purpose than a meeting between them. For if great talent and skill are necessary for two pantomimes to paint their thoughts and feelings by the movements of the body, and the expression of the countenance, how much greater the difficulty when darkness shrouds them both, and the one can hear no sound.

'"When Laura is walking through a passage­way, with her hands spread before her, she knows instantly every one she meets, and passes them with a sign of recognition: but if it be a girl of her  own age, and especially if it be one of her favourites, there is instantly a bright smile of recognition, a twinning of arms, a grasping of hands, and a swift telegraphing upon the tiny fingers; whose rapid evolutions convey the thoughts and feelings from the outposts of one mind to those of the other. There are questions and answers, exchanges of joy or sorrow, there are kissings and partings, just as between little children with all their senses."

'During this year, and six months after she had left home, her mother came to visit her, and the scene of their meeting was an interesting one.

'The mother stood some time, gazing with overflowing eyes upon her unfortunate child, who, all unconscious of her presence, was playing about the room. Presently Laura ran against her, and at once began feeling her hands, examining her dress, and trying to find out if she knew her; but not succeeding in this, she turned away as from a stranger, and the poor woman could not conceal the pang she felt, at finding that her beloved child did not know her.

'She then gave Laura a string of beads which she used to wear at home, which were recognised by the child at once, who, with much joy, put them around her neck, and sought me eagerly to say she understood the string was from her home.

'The mother now sought to caress her, but poor Laura repelled her, preferring to be with her acquaintances.

'Another article from home was now given her, and she began to look much interested; she examined the stranger much closer, and gave me to understand that she knew she came from Hanover; she even endured her caresses, but would leave her with indifference at the slightest signal. The distress of the mother was now painful to behold; for, although she had feared that she should not be recognised, the painful reality of being treated with cold indifference by a darling child, was too much for woman's nature to bear.

'After a while, on the mother taking hold of her again, a vague idea seemed to flit across Laura's mind, that this could not be a stranger; she therefore felt her hands very eagerly, while her countenance assumed an expression of intense interest; she became very pale; and then suddenly red; hope seemed struggling with doubt and anxiety, and never were contending emotions more strongly painted upon the human face: at this moment of painful uncertainty, the mother drew her close to her side, and kissed her fondly, when at once the truth flashed upon the child, and all mistrust and anxiety disappeared from her face, as with an expression of exceeding joy she eagerly nestled to the bosom of her parent, and yielded herself to her fond embraces.

'After this, the beads were all unheeded; the playthings which were offered to her were utterly disregarded; her playmates, for whom but a moment before she gladly left the stranger, now vainly strove to pull her from her mother; and though she yielded her usual instantaneous obedience to my signal to follow me, it was evidently with painful reluctance. She clung close to me, as if bewildered and fearful; and when, after a moment, I took her to her mother, she sprang to her arms, and clung to her with eager joy.

'The subsequent parting between them, showed alike the affection, the intelligence, and the resolution of the child.

'Laura accompanied her mother to the door, clinging close to her all the way, until they arrived at the threshold, where she paused, and felt around, to ascertain who was near her. Perceiving the matron, of whom she is very fond, she grasped her with one hand, holding on convulsively to her mother with the other; and thus she stood for a moment: then she dropped her mother's hand; put her handkerchief to her eyes; and turning round, clung sobbing to the matron; while her mother departed, with emotions as deep as those of her child.

* * * * * *

Well may this gentleman call that a delightful moment, in which some distant promise of her present state first gleamed upon the darkened mind of Laura Bridgman. Throughout his life, the recollection of that moment will be to him a source of pure, unfading happiness; nor will it shine less brightly on the evening of his days of Noble Usefulness.

The affection which exists between these two the master and the pupil  is as far removed from all ordinary care and regard, as the circumstances in which it has had its growth, are apart from the common occurrences of life. He is occupied now, in devising means of imparting to her, higher knowledge; and of conveying to her some adequate idea of the Great Creator of that universe in which, dark and silent and scentless though it be to her, she has such deep delight and glad enjoyment. .

Ye who have eyes and see not, and have ears and hear not; ye who are as the hypocrites of sad countenances, and disfigure your faces that ye may seem unto men to fast; learn healthy cheerfulness, and mild contentment, from the deaf, and dumb, and blind! Self­ elected saints with gloomy brows, this sightless, earless, voiceless child may teach you lessons you will do well to follow. Let that poor hand of hers lie gently on your hearts; for there may be something in its healing touch akin to that of the Great Master whose precepts you misconstrue, whose lessons you pervert, of whose charity and sympathy with all the world, not one among you in his daily practice knows as much as many of the worst among those fallen sinners, to whom you are liberal in nothing but the preachment of perdition!

As I rose to quit the room, a pretty little child of one of the attendants came running in to greet its father. For the moment, a child with eyes, among the sightless crowd, impressed me almost as painfully as the blind boy in the porch had done, two hours ago. Ah! how much brighter and more deeply blue, glowing and rich though it had been before, was the scene without, contrasting with the darkness of so many youthful lives within!

Let's Read a Compound Sentence About Charles Dickens from Author John Irving

"The intention of a novel by Charles Dickens is to move you emotionally, not intellectually; and it is by emotional means that Dickens intends to influence you socially."

                                -- John Irving "The King of the Novel"

Is the Carol a Christian "Conversion" Story?

    Some scholars and other thoughtful people see a Christian "conversion" story in the Carol. Ebenezer Scrooge, they argue, is "saved" by the end of the book in the religious sense. That's not at all what I see. First of all, G-G-G-G-GHOSTS! If Dickens intended for God to take time away from his busy day to personally challenge Scrooge's worldview, the traditional way was to choose angels (or sometimes demons) or vision of some sort. Not ghosts.

     On the other hand, God has been pretty handy in the past with locusts, whales and rain. Still, except for a couple of allusions to Christianity, including the ultimate, "God bless Us, Every One!," there's a marked absence of Christian cant.    

     I believe that one of the reasons that the Carol is important in our time is because it can convert people from religion. Dickens spent a great deal of time lampooning the evangelicals of his day. He used quite a few words in his prefaces to printed volumes of his works explaining his attacks on them. That's not to say that Dickens was an atheist or an agnostic, just that he despised the extremes of religion. Charles Dickens can explain this best, himself:

"Lest there should be any well-intentioned persons who do not perceive the difference ... between religion and the cant of religion, piety and the pretence of piety, a humble reverence for the great truths of Scripture and an audacious and offensive obtrustion of its letter and not its spirit in the commonest dissensions and meanest affairs of life, to the extraordinary confusion of ignorant minds, let them understand that it is always the latter, and never the former, which is satirised here. Further, that the latter is here satirised as being, according to all experience, inconsistent with the former, impossible of union with it, for the time being, in Exeter Hall, or Ebenezer Chapel, or both. It may appear unnecessary to offer a word of observation on so plain a head. But it is never out of season to protest against the coarse familiarity with sacred things which is busy on the lip, and idle in the heart; or against the confounding of Christianity with any class of persons who, in the words of SWIFT, have just enough religion to make them hate, and not enough to make them love, one another."

Charles Dickens, THE PICKWICK PAPERS (Preface to the first Cheap Edition; 1847). Written more than 169 years ago, it could be a rebuke of Jerry Falwell, Jr. tomorrow, or any number of television evangelists and mega-church shepherds. Dickens' Carol can be read as a present-day attack on the prosperity gospel, greed and the lack of empathy among certain religious folk.

Children's Story or Camouflaged Economic Polemic?

     Adam Smith. Thomas Robert Malthus. Economists from Scotland and England, respectively, who were not respected by Charles Dickens. Ebenezer Scrooge is said to be a parody of Malthus, especially with pronouncements like this:

"If they would rather die they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population." 

     Malthus was the eternal skeptic; whereas Dickens was the immortal optimist. Malthus wrote in An Essay on the Principle of Population that future human improvement was unlikely given the growing population, and, moreover, he championed the "there will always be the poor" idea.

     If you are Charles Dickens, you would have to take both of those ideas rather badly.

     [SPOILER ALERT] It is a bit ironic that the survival of Tiny Tim seems to vindicate a small part of Malthusian theory, but the overwhelming lesson, dressed inside an innocuous little children's book, was that human lives can be changed for the better if we help each other, that enough fat turkeys exist to feed the entire population, and why not let them eat cake!  

   

Coming to America

     For those who believe that the transformation of Ebenezer Scrooge is not believable, let me tell you the story of Laura Bridgman. In 1842--the year before he wrote A Christmas Carol--Charles Dickens traveled to America. During this visit, you might say that Dickens was treated like the Beatles were treated in 1964. But you'd be wrong. The Beatles were treated the way that Dickens was treated.

     But there was one young lady who was immune to the Dickens charm.

     In Boston, Dickens visited the Perkins School for the Blind, where he met a young girl by the name of Laura Bridgman. She was 13 at the time and very animated and conversational. This was not just rare but unique, as she had been blind and deaf from the age of two. Fifty years before the world would hear of Helen Keller, Bridgman had been taught sign language and had been removed, forever, from a dark prison.

     That was an unbelievable transformation, and it had to have affected Dickens for the rest of his life. The story is told in his book American Notes, but Dickens didn't write it. He left that honor to Samuel Gridley Howe--the person who patiently taught Laura Bridgman sign language and changed her life forever.  

     Surely, Scrooge, fettered by only habit and cynicism, had less to conquer.

Still More Carol Research

     John Irving claims that the best writer to grace our planet was Charles Dickens. He's right, you know. In an interview in the Paris Review, the name Charles Dickens appeared four times. This was one of those times: