The Talking Deaf Man: A Method Proposed, Whereby He Who is Born Deaf, May Learn to Speak

In Short

This brief, technical work outlines a systematic approach to speech therapy for the deaf, based on the physical mechanics of breath, sound, and lip movement. The author argues that speech is not merely an auditory phenomenon but a tactile and visual one, achievable through the precise positioning of the tongue, teeth, and lips. By documenting his successful instruction of a deaf student, the author aims to dispel contemporary skepticism regarding the educability of the deaf, offering a manual for teachers to help their students bridge the gap between internal thought and external expression.

The Story

The narrative begins with a passionate defense of the deaf, addressed to those who doubt that anyone born without hearing can ever master the complexities of human language. The author, a physician, characterizes this skepticism as a byproduct of a cynical age that mistakes disbelief for prudence. He recounts his time in the home of Peter Kolard, where he undertook the instruction of Kolard’s deaf daughter, Ehster. He describes her transformation—from a child limited by her inability to speak to a young woman capable of reciting catechisms and holding discourse—as the primary evidence for his method.

The central argument is that the voice is the "child of the heart." The author asserts that voice is fundamentally different from simple breath, and that a student must first understand this distinction before attempting to form letters. He explains that while others may view the instruction of the deaf as miraculous, he treats it as a logical, physiological endeavor. He details the anatomy of speech, categorizing sounds into vowels, semi-vowels, and consonants, and mapping their formation to specific "regions" of the mouth: the throat, the palate, and the lips.

The method requires the student to place their hand on the teacher’s throat to feel the "tremulous motion" of the larynx, effectively using touch as a substitute for hearing. He emphasizes the importance of visual feedback, suggesting that students use mirrors to observe the formation of sounds. He warns against common mistakes, such as teaching consonant sounds in combination with vowels, which he believes hinders the student’s ability to read and articulate clearly.

As the text progresses, the author shifts from theory to practical application, discussing the specific challenges of difficult letters like "r" and the nuances of explosive consonants. He addresses potential objections, such as the fear that a student will only be able to understand their teacher. He counters this by drawing an analogy to reading: just as a person learns to read by starting with a specific hand and then expanding their ability to interpret any handwriting, so too will the student eventually understand the speech of anyone they encounter. The book concludes with an invitation to the reader to test these methods, an appeal for further collaboration among scholars, and a promise that the author remains available to provide additional guidance to anyone committed to the "noble art" of teaching the deaf to speak.

How It Unfolds

The rejection of skepticism The author opens by addressing the widespread disbelief of his contemporaries, arguing that the deaf are capable of speech if provided with the correct physical instruction. He positions his work as a practical, rather than theoretical, refutation of those who claim the task is impossible.

The anatomy of the voice Before teaching specific sounds, the author establishes the physical necessity of understanding the difference between "simple breath" and the "sonorous voice." He provides a detailed, albeit period-specific, physiological examination of how the windpipe and skull vibrate to produce audible sound.

The classification of letters The author organizes the alphabet into logical groupings based on how sounds are formed in the mouth. He divides these into vowels, semi-vowels, and explosive consonants, providing a guide for which regions of the mouth—throat, teeth, or lips—are involved in each.

The practical pedagogy The core of the book describes the hands-on instruction of Ehster Kolard, detailing how the author used touch to help her feel the vibrations of his own throat. He outlines specific exercises to help students distinguish between sounds that seem identical to the uninitiated.

The path to fluency The final section addresses the transition from individual sounds to words and sentences, incorporating teaching aids like the "five-fold turning orb." The author concludes with a call for the reader to take up this mantle, emphasizing that teaching the deaf is an urgent, achievable mission for the benefit of all.

The People

The author, Johann Conrad Amman, serves as the primary, authoritative voice. He is a physician who approaches the problem of deafness with the precision of an anatomist and the warmth of a teacher. He is driven by a desire to leave an "eternal monument of gratitude" to his friend, Peter Kolard, and to disprove the "incredulity of the age."

Ehster Kolard is the author’s student and the book's living proof of concept. Before her instruction, she was, in the author's words, a person of "great hopes" restricted by her inability to speak. Through the author’s method, she evolves into a capable student, moving from the simple word "Pappa" to the sophisticated recitation of religious texts, ultimately symbolizing the potential for every deaf child to unlock their own mind.

Peter Kolard, Ehster’s father, represents the common person's struggle with doubt. He is initially skeptical, having tried in vain for years to teach his daughter to say "Mamma." His eventual transformation into a believer, after witnessing Ehster’s progress, mirrors the transformation the author hopes to see in his readers.

In Its Own Voice

The author highlights the emotional and spiritual significance of the human voice as the primary tool for human connection.

"For there is nothing which floweth forth from us, which carrieth with it a more vivid Character of the Life, than our Voice doth; yea, in the Voice is the Breath of Life, part of which passeth into the Voice; for indeed the Voice is the Child of the Heart, which is the Seat of the Affections, and of Desire."

The author provides his central thesis for how a deaf person can learn to replicate the sounds of speech by using touch to replace hearing.

"To therefore the Deaf may know, that I open my Mouth to emitt a Voice; not simply to yawn, or to draw forth a Mute Breath, I put their Hand to my Throat that they may be made sensible of that tremulous Motion, when I utter my Voice; then I put the same Hand of theirs to their own Throat, and command them to imitate me."

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is an argument for the essential dignity and humanity of deaf individuals. The author contends that the inability to hear is not a barrier to the intellect but merely a hurdle for the senses. He argues that language is the fundamental mechanism through which we "transfuse our own proper life into others," and that denying the deaf the tools of speech is a denial of their full participation in the human experience. By framing speech as a physical science rather than a mystical or impossible task, he transforms the act of teaching from a charitable gesture into a rigorous, intellectual discipline, asserting that every person possesses the latent capacity for expression if the right pedagogical "key" is applied.

Why Read It Today

Readers interested in the history of medicine, education, or linguistics will find this a fascinating, if sometimes challenging, primary source. The book provides an intimate look at the seventeenth-century struggle to understand the mechanics of the human body and the nature of language. Reading it feels like looking over the shoulder of a dedicated pioneer who is discovering, through trial and error, the foundations of modern speech therapy.

However, a modern reader must be prepared for the realities of its age. The prose is dense, reflecting the formal and often circuitous rhetorical style of the late 1600s, and some of the author’s physiological theories—such as his descriptions of the "springiness of the air"—are relics of a pre-modern understanding of science. Furthermore, the book is steeped in the attitudes of its period, specifically the focus on spoken language as the singular, ultimate metric of intelligence. While the author’s intentions are clearly compassionate and deeply respectful of his students, the text does not reflect modern understandings of Deaf culture or the validity of sign language. Despite these difficulties, the book remains a compelling, human-centered manual that captures a singular moment when the boundaries of human communication were significantly expanded. It is a testament to the belief that with industry and patience, even the most isolated minds can be brought into the light of shared discourse.