“It may be safely concluded,” says he, “from my observations, that the child, known by the name of the savage of Aveyron, is gifted with the free exercise of all his senses; that he gives continual proofs of attention, recollection, and memory; that he can compare, discern, and judge—in one word, that he can apply all the faculties of his understanding to objects relative to his instruction. It is necessary to remark, as an essential point, that these happy changes have taken place in the short space of nine months, and those too in a subject, who was thought incapable of attention. Hence we may fairly conclude, that his education is possible, if it be not already certain, from the success already obtained, independently of that which may naturally be expected from the assistance of time, which, in its constant unvarying course, seems to give to infancy all that strength and power of unfolding itself, which it takes from man in the decline of life.” I ought, perhaps, to mention, that this unfortunate child, to whom the name of “Victor” has been given, because he listened easily to the sounds which formed that name, has already pronounced the word “lait,” _milk_; that he has learnt to put the letters together which compose that word; and that he regularly does so, when he wishes to drink, taking also in his hand a little cup to receive his favourite beverage. Dr. Itard assured me, that he entertained no doubt of his ultimately speaking. He is warm, passionate, grateful, and he has already given strong proofs of his attachment to his nurse, madame Guerin. His person is not very remarkable, but his countenance is mild. His face has been cut in several places. He cannot yet use any two senses at the same time; and, to enable him to hear, it is necessary to bind his eyes. When he is angry, he makes a noise like the growling of a dog. He is now dressed like another boy; but I am told, it was long before they could persuade him to bear the restraint of clothing. I remarked, that while we were in the room, he kept his eye constantly on the door, and that the desire of escaping has not yet abandoned him. To conclude, it seems that he has a mark in his neck, which proves, almost to a certainty, that his life was attempted in his infancy. The hapless offspring of illicit love, he was probably first wounded by the trembling hand of an unnatural mother; and then, under the supposition of being dead, thrown into the wood, where he so long wandered, and was at last discovered. If you feel as much interested as I do on this subject, you will easily pardon the prolixity of my letter. I only regret, that I cannot send you a more perfect account. I am, &c. LETTER XIV. Detailed account of all the theatres or _spectacles_. Paris, january 21st, 1802 (1 Pluviôse). MY DEAR SIR,