ThI IP9  (COSMOPOLITE.)




HILLSDALE, MICII.




TRIMSHARP'S
ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF:
A SKETCH OF HIS LIFE,
TOGETHER WITH A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE
EDUCATION OF THE BLIND,
AND THEIR ACHIEVEMENTS,
TO WIICH IS ADDED A
COLLECTION        OF POEMS
COMPOSED BY HIMSELF.
ANN ARBOR, MICH:
ANN ARBOR PRINTING AND PUBLISHING COMPANY.
1873



To the many friends who have labored for my welfare,
without hope of reward, save that which springs from the consciousness of having benefitted a fellow-traveler in the journey
of life, this volume is dedicated.
And when we meet in that bright world,
Where sightless eyes unveiled shall be,
And all shall see as they are seen,'Twill give me joy to gaze on thee.




PREFACE.
As I have, at the request of the author, read the following
pages from the manuscript, for the purpose of preparing them
for publication, it may be proper for me to state, briefly, the
objects of the work.
Different authors have different objects in bringing their
works before the public. WAith some it is a desire to become
famous; with others it is to make money by the sale of
the books; and with still others it is to impart knowledge and
inculcate principles. The author of this work, who is no other
than Harvey A. Fuller, B. S., the Blind Lecturer, will probably
not feel injured if I say that he has all of these objects in view.
The first of these has not influenced him to a very great
extent; though no doubt he partakes somewhat of the almost
universal desire to be known and felt.
The second has had some weight; but all agree that to make
money is a laudable object so long as people give "value received," and this the author has labored to do.
It is believed that those who read the book will realize that
the third object, to impart useful knowledge and inculcate right
principles, is attained.
There are but few men whose autobiographies people care
to read; for a work of such a nature contains many details
which, though interesting to the author himself, are very uninteresting to the public. But when one's career has ueen remark



VI.                     PREFACE.
able, or when it has been such that others may be benefitted by
a statement of it, then his personal history becomes acceptable.
For perseverance under difficulties, and for success in spite of
one of the greatest misfortunes-that of total blindness-Mr.
Fuller, the author of this little book, is certainly a rare example, and it is with the hope that those who are desponding and
about to relinquish their efforts in despair may take heart and
labor for excellence, that he sends this little volume abroad.
Those who have seen his eager thirst for knowledge, who have
seen him struggling, in poverty and darkness, for an education,
until he completed a college course and graduated with college
honors, who have seen him as a lecturer, winning honor to
himself and entertaining and instructing hundreds of audiences,
have felt that he possesses the sterling elements of a man, and
that he is worthy of imitation.
Besides the principal events in the author's life, the book
gives an account of the education of the blind, and of the
achievements of notable blind persons. It also contains a brief
sketch of Laura Bridgman, the deaf, dumb and blind girl, already somewhat familiarly known to the public, and an account
of the ingenious manner in which she was instructed, the infor
mation being furnished mostly by the Superintendent's report
and Dickens' Notes on American Travel. At the close will be
found a number of the author's poems.
May the book be of interest and profit to the reader, and
may the author, from whom the beautiful scenes of this world
are forever shut out, realize that good time of Scriptural promise when "The eyes of the blind shall be opened."
J. F. D.
ANN ARBOR, MICH., Nov. 20, 1872,




CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
PAGE.
W HENCE..................................................   9
CHAPTER II.
EARLY  LIFE..............................................  18
CHAPTER III.
JOURNEY WEST-NEW HONIE-REETURN......................      30
CHAPTER IV.
SECOND JOURNEY TO THE WEST-TRAVELS-MISFORTUNES....        41
CHAPTER V.
RETURN EAST-SCHOOL LIFE AT NEW YORK-REMARKS ON
TIIE EDUCATION OF THE BLIND, WITH SOME ACCOUNT OF
THEIR ACHIEVEMENTS..................................  53
CHAPTER VI.
VACATION VISIT TO TIE WEST-FINAL DEPARTURE FROM
THE INSTITUTION-I RESOLVED TO ENTER A SCHOOL OF
THE SEEING-REMARKS ON HILLSDALE COLLEGE, AND
MY  EXPERIENCE  THERE...............................  87
CHAPTER VII.
CONCLUSION................................................  109




VIII.                        CONTENTS.
POEMS.
PAGE.
THE  RECONCILIATION......................................      119
To  COUSIN  M ARY........................................... 122
LINES  TO  R.............................................  124
THE KILKENNY LEGEND..................................          125
CONFESSION IHYMN........................................        126
CONTENTET............................................          127
To MY SINGER...........................................        129
To JANE.................................................       130
To WILL M. CARLETON..................................          131
A MICHIGAN COURT SCENE...............................          132
LINES  T    FANNIE........................................     134
To MARTIHA................................    13oBLINDNESS..............................................    136
LINES ADDRESSED TO MY AUNT..........................           138
LINES TO MY COUSIN.....................................   140
T o   E LLEN..............................................   142
CUPID  AMONG   COUSINS....................................     143
TIREE INDUCEMENTS TO LABOR...........................   144
TIIE OASIS OF LIFE.................................    148




TRIMSHARP'S ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF.
CHAPTER 1.
WHENCE.
Murmur not, gentle reader, when I inform you
that the name which stands at the head of this little
volume is not the one I have generally borne and which
I have endeavored to honor through my past life. For
when I tell you that I came honestly by it, that it was the
sole legacy of my lamented grandfather, who was an older
if not a wiser man than the one who christened me, you
will, undoubtedly, declare yourself in my favor and agree
that, however appropriate or inappropriate it may be to
my condition, I have a right to assume it if it suits my
present purpose better than does the former one.
There are other mysteries connected with my history
which, if thoroughly explained, would, no doubt, be
made to appear equally clear and satisfactory. Then as
a friend who loves you and feels a deep interest in your
welfare, I advise that you compose yourself for a time and
give me audience, while I shall relate, as well as I am
able, some of the incidents connected with my birth and
brief though eventful career in this mundane world of
ours.
And first, permit me to say that my story shall be
strictly true. "Truth is stranger than Fiction," and " Hon2




10                   WHENCE.
esty is the best Policy." I shall not falsify or color in the
least for the sake of making my life appear romantic,
brilliant or strange.
The first item I shall notice in.this sketch, is the
time of my birth. For it does not seem to make so much
difference where a man is born, as the Proverb says, if he
is only born well. Though it was the constant regret of
a son of the Emerald Isle that he was not born in Dublin. He said he was born in Cork, though he might have
been born in Dublin had he chosen it, and if he were
ever born again, he would certainly be born in the latter
place. One of his reasons for this choice was, that while
potatoes could be obtained at Cork "free gratis," they
were much cheaper in Dublin. But to return; I was born
on Saturday evening, November 1st, year of our Lord
one thousand eight hundred and thirty-four. I am thus
particular in giving the date, in order to satisfy the minds
of some curious people who have manifested much interest in this matter, though I cannot say that I have
been prompted to write my book wholly on this account.
It is rather amusing, however, to observe the means
which some people who feel a little delicate about asking
an old Bachelor his age, resort to, that they may ascertain
this fact. Noticing that I have met with a slight misfortune (loss of sight) they first inquire, " At what age
did you become blind?" then, "How long have you
been so?" And by putting the two numbers together
they obtain the wished for information.
Of course I am not ashamed of my age. " Thirtyfour" was a good, productive year. My only regrets are,
first, that I had not been born in the spring that I might
have had a few months of growth and strength to prepare me for the fierce blasts of our northern winter; and,
second, that I am not wiser than I am. But I do not




WHE1,'NCE.                11
trouble myself much about these matters, for I am as
stout as mankind in general; and when I reflect that
there are many riding with me in the car of ignorance
who have, if possible, received less advantage thar myself, I pluck up courage and resolve to improve the present and future and let by-gones take care of themselves.
The next particular which it concerns you to know
is the place of mly nativity. Now I do think, after all,
that it makes some difference where a man is born, be
he born never so well. For instance, had I been born in
ancient Jerusaleim, I would, undoubtedly, have been a
Jew. Had Rome been my birth-place, I probably should
have been a Pagan. Had I been born in a Turkish harem, I should, no doubt, have been a Turk. Had New
England produced me, I would, likely, have been a Republican.  Had South Carolina lhad the honor, it
might have made me a Ku Klux. But as it was, I was
born of respectable parentage in the Empire State, at
Mannsville, or two miles west of that place.
Having conducted you to the mansion in which I
was born (a very respectable looking farm-house whose
gothic roof points upwards so sharply as nearly to split
the raindrops as they fall almost irreverently on its timeworn and moss-covered peak) we will now rest awhile and
take a survey of the country. Yonder to the eastward
beyond the little village of Mannsville (so called in honor
of its founder, Mr. Mann,) extend as far as the eye can
reach the hills and dales of Lorraine. Thickly covered,
not with cedar and pines, like the vine-clad hills of Judea,
which writers and speakers so often contrive to lug in
whenever they wish to say something beautiful and have
nothing else very beautiful to say, but with sturdy old
hemlocks whose evergreen branches wave to and fro in the
mazy autumnal breezes or the blasts of winter like giants




12                    WHENCE.
at a game of shuttle cock, affording both shelter and fuel to
those who require their aid. To make the place still more
desirable, stately groves of sugar maples, of fruited beeches
and of berry bushes send out a cordial invitation to all mankind to come and partake of the luxurious repast which
nature has so lavisly spread for them. Here the hum
of the busy bee may be heard as it gathers the nectar
from the fragant flowers, and here also may be heard the
ring of the woodman's axe, the crack of the sportsman's
rifle, the song of the mountain bird, the low growl of the
bear, the howling of the wolf, the fierce scream of the
panther and of the cat-all giving unmistakable evidence
that you are in the midst of animated existence. You
listen to the wild melodies of Nature, sung not as the
cultivated sing, but without stint or measure, without
being doled out to you by dint of coaxing-sung freely!
from Nature's orchestra within her own gorgeous temple.
But the crowning joy of all, and that which fills the
cup of happiness to overflowing, is the rosy cheeked girls
for which this country is justly celebrated. Their beauty,
attainments, and excellent habits excite the admiration
of the beaux of the adjoining districts and the rivalry of
their less fortunate sisters, who denominate them  the
" Corn fed girls of Lorraine," for the simple reason that
they know how to make, and what is better, know how
to enjoy the good old-fashioned Rye and Indian bread
which our New England ancestors esteem so highly.
To the southward of us is a region of country called
Sandy Creek, and about five miles from where we are
standing is a pleasant little village bearing the name of
this town of which it is the metropolis, though it was
formally called Shavers' Corners by some'facetious individuals who purchased their goods at this place. Hard
by this quiet hamlet is a silvery stream whose crystal




WHENCE.                    13
waters sport playfully over their pebbly bed, never ceasing their meanderings through glade and glen until
they are lost in the bosom of mother ocean, though, to
speak plainly, they are obliged to pass through Lake
Ontario and down the River St. Lawrence before they
can accomplish this.
Now if you will look toward the place where the evening sun is dipping his shining locks in the waters of
the beautiful lake which skirts the golden horizon, you
will behold an interval of country bearing thfe significant,
though not very reverent, name of No-God. Its present
inhabitants manifest some dislike to this name which
their ancestors or some of their cotelnporarics have bestowed on their country, so that a traveler passing through
and inquiring the way to No-God, would be told all
along the way that it was ahead of him until he nearly
reached the lake shore, when he would be informed that
lie had left No-God many miles in his rear. But as no
other appellation has been patentel, we shall be obliged,
for the present, to use the old name.
As this section is not unlike those already described,
we will now turn our attention to the fourth and our
last point of compass, Tory Hill. Whether this country
received its name from the Tory weeds which grow so
profusely over its stony surface or from the political
sentiment of its inhabitants, I have not, after the most
diligent research, been able to ascertain.  A stranger
passing over this country, would be reminded of the
Yankee's description of his New England homestead,
where he was obliged, he said, to grind the sheep's noses
that they might reach the grass that grew between the
stones. The present inhabitants of this section do not,
as a general thing, partake of its nature, though a portion of them are inclined in this direction.




14                    WHENICE.
My grandfather performed once some missionary
labor there. Now I do not mention the fact that my
grandfather was a preacher out of any regard I have for
family distinction. Minister's families are no better than
others except as they sometimes receive better advantages, which was not particularly the case with ours. One
of the sons, however, is a Minister quite eminent in his
profession. Another son was born with the preach in
him, but from some unaccountable reason it has never
come out. His religious denomination, however, find
him of great service. His argumentative faculties, his
natural shrewdness, and his well cultivated organ of
combativcness, render him   an  acceptable personage
whenever any thelogical doctrines are to be discussed.
On such occasions, if invited, he is always on hand, and
always acquits himself so admirably that he satisfies his
own party, satisfies his opponent and satisfies himself.
Another son was born with equal genius, and while he was
young, people thought that he was "cut out" for a
preacher. They endeavored to encourage him in this
direction by commending him   at school and in other
pllaces for his attainments. But not being fond of flatteries, his indignation was aroused, and he determined
to put an end to their talk as well as to defeat their
plans for him. To accomplish this, he first resolved not
to know any more than he was obliged to, and second,
he resolved to recite his lessons wrong, although he knew
them perfectly well, and in this way he was successful.
He was, no doubt, "cut out" for a preacher, but spoiled
in making up.
But I must pause a moment to wipe my eyes. Forgive these falling tears, but I cannot help sighing, not for
my uncle alone, but for all mankind. Poor, frail, erring,
suffering humanity! How often have thy children come




WHENCE.                    15
forth well born, designed for great ends, patterns of true
excellence-but spoiled in making up.
We will now return to my grandfather, whom we left
preaching to the people of Tory Hill. For a time he got.
on comfortably, but learning that some of the urchins
improved the opportunity to play cards outside while he
was preaching to the people within, he reproved the people, and insisted that this misdemeanor should be stopped. They being unable or unwilling to comply with
his request, he gave them ovet to their own ways, and
established himself in No-God where he was more successful. I judge this to be the case from the good Merino
potatoes which were sent to our house from his parishioners. "By their fruits ye shall know them," has a
significance in more ways than one.
But let us walk into the house, for I can now proceed with my narrative just as well in doors, and I see
that you are shivering with cold. The November winds
in this country are very severe, whether they come from
the lake or some other quarter. Exposure to their blasts
often produces colds, coughs, and consumptive diseases.
I would not have you expose your health for the sake
of listening to my story, especially since there is danger
of taking cold myself.
I remarked that I was b)orn of respectable parentage, and should I say more concerning this matter? Need
I go on to inform you that mly grandfather on my
mother's side was a good, wise, and great man, a
preacher, mechanic, and farmer, a man of Herculean
strength, of indomitable will, and of unbounded sympathy? That his wife, my mother's mother, was a Christian woman, industrious and frugal, a loving wife, and,a cherishing mother, and that my own dear mother inherited the good qualities of both? Or, crossing over




16                    WtHENCE.
to the other ancestral line, shall I relate that my grand
father was a ship carpenter of good repute, poor in this
world's goods, but rich in the possession of a heart
always throbbing with generous impulse? That his wife,
my sainted grandmother, was a good, old-fashioned
Methodist woman, who shouted at prayer meetings and
labored prayerfully at home, and that, although her
sons stand aloof as if waiting for mankind and their
Heavenly Father to coax them a little, her daughters
enjoy the faith and love of good works which characterized their mother?  Or going backward still further,
through the vista of wasted years, shall I trace my lineage
from Saxony to Britain, thence across the ocean in the
good old ship Mayflower, or sonme other vessel, to Plymouth rock, that mighty rock whereon poets and historians deliglt so much to dwell, (mentally, of course,
for no man could sublsist on a rock, and tlis is only a
rock after all)?
All this, and much more, mighit be truthfully said.
But I forbear. It is not a history of my ancestors, but
a history (pardon my egotism) of myself that you desire, a history of Squire, Elder, Doctor, Professor, Lucifer,
Trimsharp, (I have borne each of these titles as manfully as I could) a man who appreciates kindness and
friendship to the highest extent, but despises hypocrisy
and falsehood, a man whose will-power, and never-flagging perseverance have given him no little success in the
world, a man whose power of endurance, though not of
the best, is sufficient to enable him to hang out on the
wing, be his flight ever so high, or ever so low, until he
has finished his story.
But I notice by your sonorous breathing that you are
dozing. Do not be frightened; it is no breach of etiquette to doze a little when you cannot well avoid it. I




WHENCE'.                   17
have been known to do this myself even at church; but
I always tried to excuse myself, on the ground that the.room was badly ventilated and the atmosphere too warm.
But as you must be weary from the long march we've had
you may go to rest if you like, and I will write the rest of
my history. In a few days it will be finished and you can
take it with you to read at your leisure. Meanwhile you
will make yourself at'home and enjoy life as best you
can.
There are some rules of domestic etiquette which I
would like to have visitors observe, but which many persistently ignore, by sitting up late at night and keeping others from their rest, and lying abed in the morning while the whole familly wait for the guest to come
to his breakfast. In a well regulated family such things
are really distressing, especially if its members feel obliged
to improve their time to the best advantage. But as you
are a person of some experience in the world, your judgment and good sense will undoubtedly guide you in relation to these matters.




CHAPTER II.
EARLY LIFE.
Having given some account of my parentage, and
described in a general way the old homestead where I was
born, I am now prepared to enter upon the particulars
of my own history. As my path of life has been more
than ordinarily interspersed with thorns and roses, I shall
be obliged frequently to change my tone of expression,
giving place to both the serious and humorous incidents.
In the preceeding chapter, we have related nearly all
that was necessary until we arrive at a point in our history where memory will furnish the needful material for
our purpose. One event took place during this interval
which I cannot forbear mentioning; it was the death of
my mother, which occured when I was only six weeks
old. Although unconscious at the time of the great loss
I was suffering, I have since been made to realize to the
fullest extent its effects upon my course of life. As others,
more able than myself, have written much concerning a
mother's love and influence, I shall attempt nothing in
this direction. Suffice it to say that, when a mere child,
I frequently found myself in tears when thinking of this
bereavement, and was never able to see why it was that
Providence should thus afflict me.  But since I have
become more experienced in the ways of the world and
have felt, from time to time, the burdens of life pressing
heavily upon me, I have concluded it was all for the best
and have often wished that I, too, might find a resting
place within that sequestered old burying ground.




EARLY LIFE.                     19'
At the time of, my mother's death, she expressed a
wish that I should be given in charge of my grand parents on my father's side, and her elder son, who was.
seven years my senior, should be left in care of her owrn
family. This plan of my mothor's was considered by the'
parties concerned as. being the best that could be devised,
and I was, accordingly, soon after her death, transferred
to my new home, where I remained until nearly six
years of age.
"For I was wayward, bold, and wild,
A self-willed imp-a grandame's.hild;
But, half a plague, and half a jest,
Was still endured, beloved, caressed:
For me, thus nurtured, dost thou ask
The classic poet's well conned task?
Nay, Erskine, nay. On the wild hill
Let the wild heathbell flourish still;
Chkerish the tulip, prune the vine;
But freely let the woodbine twine,
And leave untrimmed the eglantine."
Being quite young at the time of this journey, I was.
permitted to take no observations on the way, but, on
the other hand, was kept so closely confined within my
wrappings that I could hardly breathe, and my cries for
relief were choked by the frequent application of a large
bottle to my lips. Whether this bottle contained milk or
soothing syrup I am not able to state. Nor does it matter
which, so far as my necessities were concerned, for I did
not stand in need of food so often, nor was I so brilliant
that I required drugging. But as it was, I was stuffed
or dosed until I lost all consciousness of my condition
until long after we reached our destination. (Note, this
is not a record of memory. I observe that children are
generally subjected to this kind of treatment, and so.
infer that I must have shared a similar fate.) The first.




20                   EARLY LIFE.
event of my life that fixed itself indelibly upon my
mind, transpired when I was between two and three
years of age. One day a lady entered our apartments,
and, after depositing her budgets on a table near the door,
came to the place where. I was seated, with her arms extended to receive ine. I was no stickler for etiquette at
that time more than I am at present. But I considered
that such an action on the part of a stranger was unwarranted freedom if not a breach of. hospitality, and so I
protested against it with all the force I was master of
until the lady's sense of propriety or my grandmother's
interference caused the persecution to cease. Whether
-this affair had anything to do with the diffidence I felt for
many years afterwards whenever brought into the presence of ladies, I will not assert; suffice it to say that if my
fair friends have had reason to complain of my reserve or
seeming indifference, they may attribute it in part to the
imprudent action of one of their own number.
This grandmother, who was the principal guardian
of the household, (my grandfather's business keeping
him  much from home) was the old-fashioned Methodist
woman previously mentioned. She was not, however,
-a Methodist when she came to this country, but a member of the Close Communion Baptist Church. Finding
in the vicinity of her new residence no organization of
like faith, and wishing to gather around her some con
genial spirits whose influence would aid her in Christian
warfare, she united with the Methodist society, and rcrnained in good fellowship with them until lier death,
which occurred many years afterwards.
This conduct of grandmother's will be considered by
some as being reprehensible; but I see no necessity for,such a conclusion. In the first place, she had not the
ulavantages of a theological course.  She had learned




EARLY LIFE.                  21
from her Bible that repentance, belief and baptism were
the essential requisites to salvation, and, having complied with these and the duties enjoined in the gospel in
relation to a public confession of the same, she then
turned her attention to the elevation of herself and the
elevation of others, both at home and abroad, supposing'
that no other burden was incumbent upon her. The
Methodist principle of permitting their applicants for
membership to accept of immersion instead of sprink —
ling, if their consciences dictated in that direction,
settled all doctrinal questions in the old lady's mind,
and she manifested on all occasions an equal love for
both parties. In fact her mantle of charity spread itself
over all religious bodies, and Satan himself might have
put his head under it and kept it covered as long as he
behaved well, by simply telling the old lady that he had
made up his mind to lead a better life. And if you, my
theological friends, who are so full of party spirit and
party pride, would take a little stock in this charity
institution and soften your hearts toward your heretical
neighbors, remembering that they are your fellow beings,
bound for the same eternal judgement-seat as yourself,
you would gather around you many who, if not disposed
to adopt your religious tenets, would, undoubtedly, listen
to your kind instruction, and in Heaven bless you for
the assistance you gave them.
Says T. DeWitt Talmag: " We have spent too much,
time in ecclesiastical pugilism. We have lost about a
hundred years in gunning for Methodists, and drowning Baptists, and beating Presbyterians to death with
the decrees, and pummeling Episcopalians with the buttend of the liturgy. As at Bathwell Bridge the Scotch army quarreled among themselves, eighteen Ministers with
eighteen different opinions, contending most fiercely,.




:22                 EARLY LIFE.
until Lord Claverhouse came down with disciplined
troops and swept the field; so in the time when the
hosts of darkness in mail of hell were coming upon us,
we were contending, Old School against New School, FreeWill Babtists against Close Communionists, Methodist
Church North against Methodist Church South, and we
have been routed on a hundred fields, when, forgetting
everything but the one-starred banner under which we
fought, and the Captain who led us on, we might have
shouted the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Thank
God that so many of the rams of the Church have had
their horns sawed off, and that the ecclesiastical chanticleers have lost their spurs. The books of controversialists will be on the shelves of College and State Libraries,
old and yellow and cobwebbed, until even the book
worms will get tired of the slumberous literature, and depart from old leather backs, and some day the books will
be cast into the fire, and just before the last flame goes
out, the world will see in the consuming scrolls the image of two religious combatants with their hands in each
other's hair, combing it the wrong way."
The example of my grandmother, so far, at least, as
preaching and praying were concerned, was so strictly
followed by me that much amusement was thereby created for those who visited us. One of this number was
a jolly old uncle who never left our house without engaging me to pray for him, and paying me well for my
service. Whether he was prompted to do this solely because of the amusement it afforded him, or whether he
had some higher motive in view I am not informed (the
incident occuring too early in life to come within the
scope of memory). But I am told this matter was brought
to a termination in rather an amusing way. It is said
that one day while praying for him with all the fer



EARLY LIFE.                 23
vency the occasion demanded, I stopped suddenly and
sprang to my feet exclaiming:' I see the Devil! I
see the Devil!" and no reward was sufficient to induce
me to undertake the ceremony for him again.
That Satan should visit me in my fancy is not strange,
for my grandmother had givenr me a long history of his
doings. She knew all his arts and allurements, and took
great delight in recounting the victories she had obtained over him during her Christian warfare; and,
being told by her that he inhabited the place where I
should be obliged to go if I was not a good boy, of course
I was interested in knowing all I could of him, and so
I would frequently turn over the leaves of the old family
Bible till I came to his profile, and then I would sit and
gaze upon it with mingled feelings of pity and fear, for
hours together.
I pitied him because he was chained so near that
great fire that its heat must give him much uneasiness,
and I could not bear to see even a mouse in misery.
Then I feared him greatly; for he appeared a thousand
times more dreadful than the ten-horned dragon of revelation now seems to be. In fact he must have resembled this symbol very much in general appearance, for
he was a huge and terrible beast, with large eyes of liquid
fire, and a mouth full of ponderous teeth. His four great
claws seemed designed for tearing everything in pieces,
while his long, forked tail was raised in air as if he were
lashing his sides in great fury; and I actually feared that
he might break loose from his'moorings and come to
this world, in which case I knew that he would do much
damage before he could be chained again.
The vocation of my grandmother, aside from her domestic duties, was weaving. In this she greatly excelled, and when not employed in the manufacture of carpets




24                 EARLY LIFE.
and cloths'she wove window curtains of the rushes
which grew on the banks of the little stream that flowed
near our dwelling. These curtains were considered in the
days of plain living as being quite ornamental as well as
useful, and were readily purchased by the inhabitants of
the surrounding country. My grandmother, however,
found it necessary sometimes to carry these articles on
foot to the market places, which task she willingly performed. But before leaving home for this purpose she
would always invoke. the assistance of the Lord, and
whenever a sale was made she regarded it as being the
work of Providence as much as though a kingdom had
fallen into her possession. I have a faint remembrance
of being with her on one of her pedestrian excursions.
Though I can not say whether she had any of her wares:
with her or not. All I remember is our kneeling together by the side of a large log, and the impression
her prayer made upon me. When she had finished
she told me, by way of explanation, that she had been
praying for strength to pursue her journey, and she had
received it. She said, furthermore, that whenever we
needed anything we had only to pray and the good Lord
would willingly give it to us. I was very much pleased
with this information, and made use of it several times
afterwards as I may have occasion to show before finishing this narrative. In fact, I admired the Lord so much
for his marvelous goodness that I became very anxious to
visit him, and accordingly promised my grandmother
that I would get a horse and carriage and take her to
Heaven as soon as I should be large enough to drive.
As my grandmother was dependent mainly on her
own earnings for our support, we did not, of course, live
in style equal to that of our wealthier neighbors. Still
we were comfortable and happy, and others who tarried




EARLY LIFE.                 25
with us were made so. Among those who came oftenest to our home was a blind man, familiarly known
through Jefferson County as "Blind Jess." lie was a
large, fleshy man, and gave as a reason for his obesity,
that he had the whole County to support him and why
should he not be fat? (Meaning by this that he was a
pauper). This allusion would have been to a sensitive
mind, inspired with the manly spirit of self-maintenance, truly humiliating; but Jesse had no such scruples. Long familiarity with his condition had made
him reconciled to it, and he would hafe undoubtedly
remained at his charity home, contented and happy, had
it furnished him as many comforts as did the fireside of
the private families he visited. As it was, lie used
frequently to steal out from his asylum and sojourn
among the people until some philanthropic individual,
prompted by the remuneration such services receive,
would carry him back. On one of these expeditions,
when he had got but a little way on his journey, he was
overtaken by one of the poor-house men, who invited hint
to ride  As Jesse did not recognize his voice, he thought
it would be well to accept; but after a circuitous ride of
a few miles he was astonished to find himself again at
his old quarters. At this place the inmates were kept at
work as much of the time as their ability would permit,
and our blind friend found himself almost constantly
employed while there at turning grind-stone and doing
similar work which required strength and not eye-sight.
He was found very serviceable in the laundry; for as he
was quite strong, he could pound the clothes as well as
those who could see.
One day, while engaged at this business; a washerwoman, for the sake of diversion, threw a pail of water
over him. Jesse waited patiently until she came round
3




26                  EARLY TLIFE.
to turn the clothes in his pounding barrel.  Then he
seized her with one hand and with the other drew a wet
sheet from the barrel and wrapt it closely around her
head and shoulders. Her screams brought the overseer,
who, after inquiring into the matter, decided that Jesse
had done right, and told the girl that he hoped she
would meet with a similar fate whenever she attempted
to play such a game.
As this blind man had received no educational advantages, and possessed but little natural ability, he was
not, as may be supposed, a very interesting guest. Still,
lie needed as much care and attention as though he had
been a prince or a preacher, and these were gladly
bestowed on him by my grandmother. Indeed, he used
to say that she was the only one who would have charity
for him, meaning by the term charity, faith in his visions.
In these visions, he claimed that he saw Angels or
" holy ones," as he called them, with bright, sunny faces
almost continually around him. When, however, he did
anything wrong, these visions would depart and not return
until he had thoroughly repented. During their absence,
lie would appear dejected and taciturn; but on their reappearance he would resume his natural cheerfulness and
loquacity. But these claims did not meet with the approval of those with whom he associated. They could not
see why he should be blessed with these special manifestations of Divine favor more than themselves, and their
unbelief degenerated into a kind of ridicule or persecution.
Of course this feeling was not general, and the few
to whom it was confined would have been more considerate had they stopped for a moment's reflection. If
the visions were imaginary they were certainly a high
order of imagination, and their possessor ought to have




EARLY LIFE.                  27
been commended for keeping his thoughts in so pure a
channel; and if they were special revelations, there was
no cause for envy; for God, whose heart is ever touched
with the distresses of His children, has a right to manifest himself in a particular manner to one who, by his infirmities, is shut out from many privileges which others
of His children enjoy. But our friend has long since
gone to his rest, and if those who made sport of him,
or caused him to stumble, or neglected to warn him of
danger, ever get to that better world, or in sight of it,
they will see him there with his holy ones, gazing with
eyes of immortal vigor upon its resplendent glories, and
joining with the ransomed millions in the glad song of
eternal deliverance from all the cares and misfortunes
which temporal existence entails. Poor Jess! I do not
know why I have brought you into my narrative, unless
it is because in my retrospective glance I saw you groping your way along just as I did when a child, and
thought it would be a privilege to keep you company
until we arrive at a place where you could easily manage
yourself.
But the time has come for us to take leave of my
grandmother's cottage. It is the dearest place I have ever
known, and this is the reason why I have lingered so
long within its view. I am aware that "distance lends
enchantment to the scene," that, in the retrospect, we see
only the roses that are scattered along the lath of life;
but, notwithstanding this, I do not hesitate to say that
the first six years of my life were, by far, the happiest I
have ever spent.
During this period my father had married again, and
settled in the west, and he and his new wife had concluded to take me to live with them. Accordingly they
wrote to my grandmother to this effect. As the world




28                 EARLY LIFE.
had always been a Paradise to me, I thought that wherever I roamed I should find the same elysian fields, the
same sunny brooks, and the same tender hearts to care
for me, and, as the journey would afford me much diversion, I received the news with great pleasure. To add to
my anticipations, my step-mother promised to take good
care of me, and fill both of my pockets with sugar. This
I thought was extremely clever, and everywhere I went
I told my friends of my good fortune, and lauded the generosity of my new patron. I can almost hear, as I sit
dictating these lines, the merry laugh of my play-fellows,
as they saw me strutting up and down and stepping as far
as I could to show them how my step-mother did; for I
supposed that step-mother signified ability to stride
farther than other women.
But the hour for my departure arrived. My father
came and I was hurriedly prepared for the journey. I
could realize but little of the importance of what I was
doing; but my grandmother was greatly agitated. She
had taken me when I was a nursling, and had watched
over me for nearly six years-besides, she entertained
some fears for my future, and consequently would not
have consented to let me go had not the persuasions of
others induced her to place me in hands that were
stronger than hers, for my support. As it was, she
yielded up her claims, and with tearful eyes and faltering voice she bade me good-bye. We had just crossed
the threshold, when my father, looking back and observing my grandmother's agony, remarked to her that if
she wished, he would not take me away. She made no
answer, but waved her hand for us to proceed. We
walked out to the carriage which was waiting at the gate,
seated ourselves within it and were soon afterwards
moving rapidly on our journey.




EARLY LIFE.                 29
Thus ended my stay with the best friend I have ever
found, or shall ever find in the realm of time. I have
wished many times that my existence also had ended
there; for since that time I have met with but little
that was enjoyable, and with much that was hard to
bear. Then, too, if I had died, Heaven would have
received me; for my heart was almost as pure as the
freest spirit that wings its flight around the sacred temple of the Eternal. But now I have learned many things
which I must unlearn, I have formed habits of life, that
must be overcome, and there are responsibilities resting
on me, both in relation to my own improvement and to
the improvement of others, which did not then exist.
And in view of all these, I am frequently ready to yield
up everything to the cruel demands of Giant Despair.
Often, when gazing into the dark, untried hereafter, I
see the Heavenly inheritance, with all its joys receding
from my view, and, in its stead, a yawning gulf filled up
with horrid shapes and figures loathsome to the sight
open its ponderous jaws as if to make room for other
victims to its savage lust. Sometimes I wonder if the
Architect who framed the world would deign to bridge for
me this awful void; but this I do not know. He's stern
and unpropitious yet, and even earth itself is reeling now
beneath mv feet.




CHAPTER III.
JOURY     ES-N        E-URNEY  EST- W  OMERETURN.
After leaving Ellisburgh, we proceeded on our course,
with little or no interruption, until we reached Oswego, where we left our private conveyance and took passage on a canal packet for Buffalo. In those times this
mode of traveling was considered not only convenient,
but quite expeditious (most of our railroads have been
constructed since); and after a pleasant voyage of a few
(lays, we arrived at our destination. Here we were soon
afterward joined by my step-mother and her daughter
Mary, a bright-eyed, flaxen-haired girl, about three
years of age. And here I was subjected to an order of
discipline quite different from that which I had before
received. My step-mother, observing that I gave up
everything to the demands of my little sister, threatened to whip me if I did not take my own part, adding
that she could not bear to have a child around her who
would not fight for himself.  I believe she was not
obliged to repeat this lesson many times for my benefit.
Human nature, unrestrained by a higher power, very
soon learns to take care of itself. I think, however, I
have nev.er been considered quarrelsome. When I am
abused I take as little notice of the matter as possible,
thinking that the ignorance or grossness which prompts
such a course ought to be pitied rather than chastised.
This philosophy corresponds with the story of the unfortunate lad who came within too close a proximity to




JOURNEY ~WEST.                31
the heels of a fractious animal of the long-eared persuasion. He was disposed to overlook the offence after he
had considered its derivation.
But non-resistance was not the only virture I lost
by my change of masters. Soon after we had crossed
lake Erie and traveled by land and canal to our new
home near Akron, Ohio, then a pleasant village and now
a city of some importance, I heard one of our neighbors
remarking to my step-mother that it was a rare thing to
find a child so truthful as myself, adding that his own
children would often tell a falsehood when the truth
would be much easier for them. This reputation, however, I was soon destined to lose, at least within our own
family circle. The circumstances which led to this deplorable result are as follows: My father was somewhat
irritable at times, the result, doubtless, of his dyspeptic
condition, and joined with this misfortune, for misfortunes never come singly, he was not very fond of children. As may be supposed, therefore, his conduct toward
me was not calculated to win my love nor scarely my
respect for him. Then, too, the chastisings he occasionally gave me did not lessen the evil. I sometimes wished
he was dead, and often coveted the condition of the orphan children of my acquaintance, who I thought were
blessed, because they had no father to whip them. I was
never designed for rough treatment. I was fragile and
nervous, and what would have been a mere trifle for children in general seemed a horrid torture to me. Consequently I studied to avoid every infliction of punishment, whether of mental or of a physical character.
To accomplish this my first plan was to confess my
fault, and acknowledge that I desired retribution. But I
soon saw that this would not work. It seemed to justify
rather than nullify the action. Then I had recourse to




32                 JOURNEY WEST.
falsehood. This was more successful. It not only temporized the matter, but it often afforded permanent relief.
Though, I think, on the whole, that the compunction of
conscience I felt and the fear I entertained of being detected for days afterward, were more than any corporeal
punishment would have been.
Now I do not wish to intimate that my father was
heartless and cruel, for he was not. He lacked that which
many others very much need, sound judgment or discretion. Had he chosen the weapon of moral suasion which
my grandmother wielded so powerfully, he would, probably, have effected a thousand-fold more good than he
could have hoped for with all his sprouts and horse-whips.
Poor old man, he has lived to be quite aged, and I am
thankful to say he has never received the whipping
which I resolved so many times I would give him, and
if his eyes ever rest on these lines, I hope that he will
not infer from them that I cherish any ill feeling whatever. No, I long since forgave him for all the harm he
did me, as freely as I hope to be forgiven.
My object in dictating this part of my narrative is,
that those who have the care of children may be admonished. That some who read this may be led to study
the different dispositions and temperaments of those who
are intrusted to their care, and be induced to govern in
accordance with them, is all that I wish or expect to
achieve.
One virtue, if I mIay call it such, which my grandmother inculcated, lingered upon the threshold of my
heart long after some of its kindred spirits had taken
their flight. It was prayer. I continued this exercise,
partly because I considered it a duty, and partly because
of my belief in its efficacy. It may not be improper to
introduce one or two circumstances here, as an illustra



JOURNEY WrEST.               33
tion of rmy child-like confidence in God and in his
willingness to answer me. I was returning home one
dark night, and as a portion of my path lay through the
woods, I was greatly concerned lest I might meet with
some ghost or hobgoblin, for my mind had been filled
with stories of these. As I was hurrying along as fast as
my trembling limbs could bear me, I was suddenly stopped by the appearance of a hideous monster, directly
in my path, who seemed to be waiting with out-stretched
arms for my approach. What to do I could not tell.
To advance would be death, to retreat would be to incur
the displeasure of ny father. I did not wait long, however, in this dilemnla; for it flashed into my mind that
{Cod would protect mie if I should ask his assistance.
In a moment I was on my knees, and when I had finished
my petition, I walked up to my supposed enemy
(which wais imerely the top of a fallen tree), without any
apprehension whatever. On another occasion, I was sent
to bring the horses from the barn which was quite a distance from the house. My father and I generally harnessed them before breakfast, for I was not large enough to
do it alone, and after they had eaten I would climb into
the manger, put on their head-stalls and lead them out.
At the time of which I speak one of the head-stalls was
missing. I searched diligently for it, but it was nowhere
to be found. If I called my father, he would probably
whip me for my stupidity, and if I searched any longer, I
should be corrected for my tardiness. These reflections
caused my eyes to fill with tears; but suddenly it occurred to me that God knew where it was, and would tell me,
if I prayed to him. I knelt upon the barn floor, and implored his assistance. When I opend my eyes after a
brief prayer the missing article lay within my reach,
and directly in front of me. Whether it had been mirac



34                JOURNEY WEST.
ulously placed there or not, I do not wish to say; but at
the time I thought it was, and my faith was thereby
strengthened.
A few months subsequent to my arrival at our
western home, I was agreeably surprised by the addition of an infant brother to our family circle. I loved
little Charlie (as they called him) dearly, and would often
run nearly all the way from school to see him, my speed
being generally hastened by the threats of a school girl
older than myself who pretended that she was going to
carry him away. A plague upon big girls, I thought; for
there was another about the same'age, whom they called
"Beck," who used frequently to steal away with my hat,
because she took pleasure in seeing me run after her.
I suppose this was her object, for I think she was not
large enough to have a real follower, though I do pot know
at what age girls are first inclined to accept the attentions of those indispensibles. (Here I discover that my
amanuensis, a little girl, is laughing. I persume that
such ignorance of human nature as I manifest ought
to be laughed at.)
During the time I spent with my parents, which
was about eight years, three other children were born to
them, whom they named respectively Hattie, Alvin and
Alber. One of these, my brother Alvin, died when he
was quite young, and before I left home. He lived, however, long enough to deeply entwine himself into my affections. I-Ie was left almost wholly to my care, as he
preferred me to the rest of the family, and when he died,
it seemed as though a portion of my own existence was
torn away. I stood by his bed-side holding his pale,
thin hand, while his mild, earnest eyes looked imploringly into my own, as if lie thought I could afford him
some relief from his deep distress. But when I knew




JOURNEY WEST.                35
that he was going, I left him to the care of others and
fled to an adjoining room; for I could not bear to see the
Spoiler doing his last work on one I loved so much.
For many years afterwards I mourned his loss, and whenever I saw a child of the same age I would ask the privilege of holding it as long as circumstances and the
mother would permit.
When I had reached my fourteenth year, imy parents
concluded to send me back to my native town. My father's.
parents had moved to the West, and were then residing
in our vicinity; but my mother's parents were still living
at the old homestead in Ellisburgh, and my parents,
thinking that they could do better for me than they
themselves could, decided to place me under their supervision. Accordingly a letter was addressed by them
to my grandfather stating their wishes, and upon receiving a favorable answer from him, they at once made preparations for my journey. I was to go alone; but this
(lid not seem to be taken into account by any of us,
though I now think I should be loth to send a child
thirteen years of age, who had never traveled except in
his infancy, on a voyage by canals and lake of five hundred miles, with scarcely money enough to pay his.
passage.
We had never been destitute of the comforts of life;
but sickness in the family, especially the illness of my father, had reduced our financial department to quite a low
ebb. I had managed to earn a little for myself from time
to time by voluntarily peddling molasses candy, by
catching fish for one of our neighbors, and by such other
means as were afforded' me. But now I resolved to put
forth a greater effort, and on learning that the proprietor
of a ten-pin alley " down town " (for we were then living
in Akron) wanted bloys t:) set up pins, I found him and:




36                JOURNEY WEST.
engaged in his service, where I remained about two
weeks. I would have stayed longer, and been better prepared financially for my journey, but my parents did not
like the company that I was keeping.
My step-mother thought that she could send me much
cheaper by cooking my board for me. Accordingly, some
bread and nice cakes were placed in my little old haircovered trunk, with some hazel-nuts designed as a present
for my grandparents, my wardrobe and a few trinkets,
and I was ready to start.
The only hardship I had to encounter in this transnction, was the trial I experienced in parting with my
friends, especially with my brothers and sisters. The
youngest was not old enough to claim much of my attention but the others had been nmy constant companions for.many years. Mary was now in her eleventh year. Charlie'was eight, and Hattie was a little more than six years,of age. The last named of these (little Hattie) seemed to
appreciate the circumstance of my leaving home more than
did any of the rest of us. She declared to the very last that
she should go and stay with me at my grandfather's. I
learned subsequently that she mourned my absence until
her death, and was often found in the little closet up
stairs weeping; and when inquired of as to the cause, she
wrould always reply that she should never see Harvey
again (this was my name in the family). Alas! her prediction was too true-but more of this bye and bye. I
-summoned up courage, and bade my father farewell; then
I turned and said good-bye to the children, little thinking it was the last time I should see the little group, on
earth. Then with my step-mother I proceeded to tlhe
packet landing, where we engaged my passage on a canalb)oat bound for Cleveland.
I observed, while my mother was talking with the




JOURNEY WEST.                37
Captain about my going, that she was weeping, and
when she came to take the farewell kiss she seemed to
be almost as deeply grieved as if it was her own offspring who was going to leave her. She was naturally
a kind-hearted woman, and, although she was at times.
rash and imprudent, I loved her dearly, and I yet believe
I received the same care and discipline from her that she
bestowed on her own.
The following day, we arrived at Cleveland. Here
I was a little puzzeled to know what course I should
pursue. I knew that I was to cross the lake from this
place to Buffalo; but which of the many vessels that
thronged the harbor I was to take, or who among the
busy crowd that surged up and down the streets and
docks would give me any information, I did not know.
My trunk was put ashore with other baggage, and thinking I had no time to lose, I picked it up and started in
the direction of the shipping. I had not proceeded far,
when I was accosted by a man who wished to carry my
baggage. As it was quite heavy I consented to his proposition, and following closely behind him we threaded
our way to the steamboat landing, where my guide, after
taking pay for his services, disappeared, leaving me to
my own reflections.
It was not long before a steamboat landed near
the place where I was standing, and among the first,
who leaped upon shore was a man who called out that
they were bound for Buffalo, and would carry cheaper
than any other boat. I, with some others, followed him
into a depot near by, and seeing him sell two or three
tickets to a man for the voyage, purchased one for myself. I noticed on taking my ticket that it was not like
the one which the man received; but I attributed this
difference to the fact that the man was to have cabin




;38                JOURNEY WEST.
fare, while I bargained for the steerage. To make sure,of the matter, however, I went to the office on board of
the boat and observed the tickets which they disbursed.
Soon a large boy came up and bought a ticket for the
same accommodation that I was to receive. On comparing mine with his I found they were not alike, and:soon afterward I made my trouble known to some men
who I knew by appearance belonged to the boat.  They
asked me who the pirate, as they called him, was, and, on
my pointing him out, which I did with some difficulty,
he having changed his coat, they went with me to seek
redress. The agent of the boat (for such he was). acknowledged that he sold me the ticket and gave me ano)ther after making a little apology for his carelessness.
This affair created considerable sympathy for me
nmong the boat hands, who soon became much interested
in my welfare, and the interest was increased by a little
circumstance which occurred soon afterwards. The large
boy whom I have mentioned came around and the sail_ors, for the sake of diversion, asked us to wrestle with
each other. I was not skilled in that art and the boy
was nearly twice as large as myself, though he might
not have been much older. But my heart was so full of
gratitude that I could not refuse anything that was asked
of me, and the boy being quite willing, we went at the
work in good earnest. After a short struggle, I threw him
forcibly upon the deck. The boy did not wish to renew
the contest, and so, of course, I wore the victor's belt the
rest of the passage. The sailors did not permit me to eat
my own provisions but gave me warm meals with themselves and one of them gave up his berth and slept with
a comrade, that I might have a comfortable bed. This
was very fortunate for me, as the weather was extremely
cold, and we were detained at Cleveland a day or two on
-ccount of the storm that was then prevailing.




NEW HOME.                  39
My most particular friend on board was one of the
engineers, whose name I have now forgotten. Through
his kindness I was permitted to visit the engine room
whenever I wished, a privilege I availed myself of very
fieely; for I took much delight in viewing the regular
and powerful workings of the beautiful and ponderous
machinery. This friend also gave me some information,
which I considered at the time very valuable. He said
the canal boats would transport me, free of charge, if I
would work for them during the passage; accordingly,
as soon as we landed at Buffalo, I took a brief survey of
the city, and then went in search of such an opportunity. All the boats seemed to be full, but after walking
some distance I found a Captain who was willing to take
me.   I thanked him for his kindness, and returned the
favor as far as I was able by doing chores for him, and
occasionally driving the team which towed the boat. All
passed off well with me, but I think I was quite fortunate that I did not take the position of a hand, in which
case my ignorance of canal life would have exposed me
to iminent danger.
When we arrived at Syracuse, I took the stage for
Mannsville, and soon after reaching that place found my
way to my grandfather's home. Here I remained nearly
three years, but nothing occurred in our vicinity during
the time that would be worthy of record. Indeed, I look
back upon that part of my life as being almost an entire blank, and, were it not for the acquaintances I made,
who have since been firm friends to me, I should wish
that this portion of my history were blotted forever from
the pages of memory. My grandparents would have
treated me kindly had they kept me under their supervision; but as they had become somewhat aged, they
left the management of the farm and myself to their son




40                    RETURN.
and his wife, who resided with them. These.were so
eager to get rich (a thing which they never have accomplished) that they bore down everything before them;
and I, being artless and defenseless, went under with the
rest. Of course I have no malice in recording this matter, but merely place it as a monument of admonition.
God forgive me, if I cherish any hardness toward a being
that He has created, unless it be those spirits whom
He Himself cast out.
During the time I have just mentioned, an event occurred in my western home, which cast a gloom over
my rugged path. When I had been absent about two
years, I received a letter from my step-mother, imforming
me of the death of three of her children, namely, Mary,
Hattie and Albert. The deaths of my sisters were both
occasioned by small-pox. Hattie passed away without
seeming to realize that she was dying, but Mary knew that
death was approaching, and made preparation for the
event. She gave directions concerning the disposal of
her little valuables, and even remembered me, although
I was at such a distance from her. I have in my possession the little book she left for me, and her last message that I should meet her in Heaven shall never be forgotten. My sisters and some other children were exposed to this disease while at school from a boy who
came, ignorant, of course, of his condition, and the authorities of the. place, wishing to prevent its spread, ordered that those who (lied from  its effects should be
buried in the night.
A few years afterwards I visited the graves of my little
brother and sisters and plantec  around them  some
shrubs and flowers, then bade them good-bye with a hope
that the summoning notes of the Arch-angel shall bring
us together in a land where sorrows and misfortunes and
disease and death are unknown.




CHAPTER IV.
SECOND JOURNEY WEST-TRAVELS-MISFORTUNE.
When I had reached my seventeenth year, I concluded to take another trip to the West. My parents had
written for me to come home, and my friends with whom
I resided gave their consent on condition that I should
wait until after harvest. My grandfather seemed reluctant to part with me, and offered me quite a sum if I
would remain; but I was tired of my situation, and
could not be prevailed upon to change my purpose. Accordingly, as soon as the time arrived, I drew my little old
trunk from its resting place in my bed-chamber, and,
after placing my few earthly possessions within it, and
receiving money enough to pay my passage, I bade farewell to my relatives and neighbors, and was soon afterward on my way rejoicing.
This time I traveled by railroad, with the exception
of a lake voyage from Buffalo to Cleveland, and a few
miles of stage ride from Hudson (Ohio) to Akron. It
was near midnight when I reached the end of my journey; but I was so anxious to see my parents and my
brother Charlie, that I set out at once in search of them,
although they resided at some distance from the stopping
place of the stage. I found their house without difficulty, although it was one they had built during my
absence; and my knock at the door was answered by my
step-mother, from her bed-room window, who wished to
know who I was and what I wanted. I replied that I
4




42             SECOND JOURNEY WEST.
had come from Hudson that day, and would like to
know where Mr. W —   (her brother) resided. She gave
me the information, and retired; but as soon as I was
convinced that she did not know me, I rapped again and
upon her reappearance requested of her the privilege of
staying the rest of the night, as it was so late. She gave
her consent willingly, but soon after admitting me into
the house gave warm tokens of recognition. The rest of
the family were soon summoned, and our joy can be
more easily imagined than described.
Immediately after my arrival I was sent to the village
school; for, although my parents were uneducated, they
earnestly desired that their children should receive all
the advantages they were able to procure for them. I well
remember the satisfaction they manifested on hearing
from the Principal and Preceptress of the Akron Academy of my proficiency and good behavior, news which
seemed rather surprising to myself; for, although I
learned quite easily, I was generally too full of fun and
too much disposed to take my liberty, to make very diligent application.
When I had been at home a few weeks, our family,
myself included, visited my father's sister, who was then
residing at Copley Center, several miles distant from our
place. While at her house, my aunt proposed that I
should stay with her through the winter, as she needed
a chore-boy, and there was a good school near by. We
all consented to this proposition without any reserve,
except a little on my part, and I should have been highly
elated at the prospect, for this was a favorite aunt, and
my grandparents were living with her at that time; but
I had purchased a violin with the intention of learning
to play, and, knowing that my aunt was remarkable for
her piety, strictness, and zeal, I feared she would not ad



HUNTING WORK.                43
mit into her family so strange an innovation. I ventured, however, after a little hesitation, to make my objection known to her, which, to my surprise, she removed
at once by saying that I might bring my instrument and
practice all I desired. This indulgence she had just cause
to regret many times before my stay with her was completed. Not that the violin was in any wise a stumbling
block, for she had too much grace in her heart to be
tempted into sin by any kind of music performed on any
instrument whatever; but the hprrid discords of an untuned old fiddle, when sawed upon by a novice in the art
of music, must have been to the fine musical ear that she
possessed excruciating beyond expression. She bore it,
however, with a martyr-like spirit, never uttering a word
of complaint, even when my exercises were the most ferocious and prolonged. I have always been grateful to
her for the forbearance; not that my playing has amounted to anything of importance, but it kept me employed at
home when my evenings would otherwise have been
spent with the boys about town; and it is now, in my
affliction, quite a comfort to be able to play a little for
my own diversion and for the gratification of those
around me.
When spring came, bringing with it cares and responsibilities, I began to look around me for something
to do. As my parents did not need my services at home,
it was decided, after some deliberation, that I should engage myself as cabin boy on some one of our lake steamers, if I could obtain such a berth. My step-mother's
brother had for many years been master of a vessel,
and it was thought he would be a good guardian for me.
A letter was accordingly addressed to him, stating her
wishes, and, provided with this, I set out to seek my
fortune, urged on by the pecuniary reward I hoped my




44                ON THE CANAL.
services would command, and the pleasure I anticipated
from a life of travels. On my arrival at Cleveland I was
disappointed to find that my captain had retired from
the lakes, and after a brief but fruitless search for a similar opportunity, I returned to Akron, where I engaged
for a time in gardening and farm work for ourselves and
neighbors.
When the spring work was finished, I again set out
for Cleveland. This time I was as unsuccessful as before,
and was returning quite discouraged, when the captain
of a canal boat offered me a berth. It was not such a
position as I had expected; but as I needed the work, or
rather the pay for the work, I engaged in his service.
This boat belonged to the " Long Trade Line," as it was
technically called, which gave me an opportunity of viewing the country along the canal from Cleveland to Chillicothe, a distance of more than two hundred miles southward from the former place
After making a few trips, an opportunity for me to
visit another section of the country presented itself,
which I gladly accepted, partly because it would give
me a new field of discovery, and partly because the pecuniary inducements were much better. My new captain
took me, with some others, to Toledo, Ohio, and, after a
few days' preparation, we set sail for Lafayette, Indiana.
This canal is called the Wabash and Erie. It extends from Toledo to Evansville, a town in the southern
part of Indiana. It passes several towns of considerable
importance. Two of these in particular struck me as
being worthy of special notice, namely, Lafayette and
Terre Haute; the former, on account of its fine public
edifices and spacious dwellings; the latter, because of its
beautiful site and well-regulated streets. The soil of this
region is of a sandy nature, and, consequently, almost en



ON THE CANAL.                45
tirely free from mud at all seasons of the year. But
the section near Toledo, known as the Maumee country,
is directly the opposite. There the roads are almost impassable, except when congealed by the frosts of winter,
or parched by the scorching rays of the summer sun.
And here, I am told, occurred the notable tragedy of the
man who had sunk to his crown in the mud. It is said
that a fellow traveller observing a hat lying on the ground
picked it up, when, to his surprise, he found it had been
covering a man's head. The man informed him that he
wished to be let alone, as he was perfectly able to take
care of himself, having, as he said, a good horse under him.
I had not been long in this country, when I was apprised of the fact that those who came were expected to
endure a process of acclimation; in other words, they
were seized with a kind of disease known as the Maumee Fever, which attacked them soon after their arrival,
and generally bore them company during their stay. As
soon as this disease had fastened itself firmly upon me, I
was obliged to give up work, and go into the country for
recovery. I would have much preferred the small-pox,
dreadful as it is; for it visits a person but once, while
the other will dog his footsteps to the grave. I have
never known the small-pox, wicked and daring as it
is, to venture where this fever had obtained a foothold.
It sometimes infests these parts, but I think it always
sends out its scouts (chicken-pox and measles) in advance, to see if the coast is clear. This district has since
been drained of much of its stagnant water, which has
rendered it comparatively healthful. Still, the inhabitants feel obliged to keep constantly on hand, as an antidote for this fever, a good supply of genuine whisky and
similar remedies.
When I was well enough to commence work again,
I hired to a farmer who lived near by, on condition that




46                  IN SCHOOL.
I should labor for him the remainder of the fall, and do
his chores through the winter, for my schooling. Not a
very profitable arrangement, to be sure; but it was more
agreeable to my feelings than boating, which seemed at
that time to be my only alternative. This farmer, however, and his family, were respectable, and since my stay
with them have been among my firmest friends.
During my absence from home, a-.portion of my
family, before mentioned in this chapter, had removed
from Copley Center to Fremont, Indiana, and, as soon
as winter was over, they extended an invitation to me
to come and live with them, which I readily accepted.
They were at this time manufacturing wagons and carriages, and I was advised by them to learn the trade.
In fact, this was my principal object in visiting the place.
But after a few months of faithful trial, I was convinced
that I had not strength nor genius for the work, and so,
with the consent of my friends, I reluctantly gave up
the pursuit, but remained in that vicinity most of the
time until the following spring.
The intervening winter I look back upon as one
of the happiest seasons of my life. The old post-master
of the village gave me a home with him, and he and
his family used every effort to make my stay pleasant.
The school which I attended was taught by two of my
cousins, and, to make my cup of happiness still sweeter,
I was a general favorite with the girls and boys. At the
close of the winter term, I was informed by the principal
that I was well qualified for teaching; but as I knew of
no summer schools that would accept a young man for a
teacher, I did not take the trouble of obtaining a certificate.
After working a little around in the neighborhood, I
packed my wardrobe, with a New Testament which was a




ON THE WATER.                 47
present from my cousin, into my satchel, and set out in
search of more permanent and profitable employment.
On arriving at Toledo, O., I found a small steam tug
which needed a pilot. I was not accustomed to the business, but shipped with the understanding that I should
receive the necessary instruction. This boat was used for
towing vessels up and down the river, and it was interesting to see witkhlwhat giant strength she would lay hold
on those large ships, often two or three at a time, and
drag them to their destination. It was not long before I
had learned the channel of the river, and acquired much
skill in the management of the boat; and it gave me considerable satisfaction to know that my emplloyers were
well pleased with my success.
My pleasure, however, was not of long duration; for
this was the season in which Toledo was visited with the
cholera. Many of its inhabitats fell victims to this terrible scourge, and many others felt obliged to leave their
homes and flee to the country for safety. Notwithstanding I was aware of the condition of things around me, I
took no precaution whatever; but continued steadily at
work, until I found myself suddenly prostrated under a
severe attack of the disease.
As soon as its violence had subsided sufficiently to
allow me to go to the country, I went to the home of my
former friend, with whom I had lived the previous year,
for rest and recovery.  There I was taken with a relapse,
which came near ending my days; but was soon recovered
enough to walk around, and so concluded to return to my
work. My friends were so much opposed to my going
until I was more able, that I was obliged to steal away
from them wvhile my host was in, the field, and, shortly
afterwards, I was on the boat doing duty as before. This
time, however, my labor was not so.enjoyable as before




48                ON THE WATER,
my sickness.  The -weakened condition of my system
induced a prolonged attack of ague and fever, which
made it almost impossible for me to keep at work, especially during the chill. Often times I stood with my cold
hands clutching the pilot wheel, when they felt and looked
as if they were marked for the grave; and when a few
minutes of respite were given me, I would go down with
the furnace-ngan and stand near the melting fire until I
was more comfortable.
I had proceeded in this way for two or three weeks,
when it occurred to me I had better leave Toledo, and,
thinking that a lake voyage would be beneficial, I engaged myself to the captain of a brig that was lying near
by, to do his cabin work and cooking. I was not an
adept in the art. but, with the instructions I had received
at home and a book of recipes, I got on quite comfortably, and even received', words of encouragement from
some of my sailor friends, who seemed to have quite a
propensity for eating. Our vessel was bound for Ogdensburg, New York, a port on the St. Lawrence River, and a
few days after my coming on board we set sail for that
place. It was my fate never to reach our destination;
for, while passing through the ship canal that leads from
Lake Erie to Ontario, I met with an accident which compelled me to leave the boat, and came very near compelling me to quit my hold on existence. While the vessel
was lying in one of the deepest locks, waiting to be admitted to the channel below, I attempted to get on board
by sliding down a large rope which extended from a
snubbing-post of the lock down to the vessel's bow. I
had no sooner placed my weight upon the rope, than it
slacked down so suddenly that it caused nme to lose my
hold upon it, and I went head foremost into the water,
many feet below,  I was immediately aware of my




ON THE WATER.                49
imminent peril, but saw no way of escape. It was fortunate for me that the ship was not on the side of the lock
to which it was fastened, else in my long fall I must
have dashed my brains out upon the deck; but I knew
that when it swayed back, as a vessel always does when
the lock is being emptied of its water, I should be crushed
between the wall and the vessel's side. While in this
dangerous situation, I seemed to have a panoramic view
of myself from my earliest remembrance up to that very
moment when I was struggling for my existence. As I
was an excellent swimmer, I soon came to the surface,
observing which, our captain called out to one of the men
to throw a rope to me; but the man was so excited by
the circumstance that he looked all over the vessel for a
detached piece, while there were hundreds of feet of
coiled rope within his reach. He being the only man on
board at the time, I was obliged, to wait for him; but, as
soon as he was able, he dropped a rope's end into the
water, and, seizing it, I climbed to the deck, half dead
with the exhaustion my effort and excitement had produced. I then went to my berth, and, after a few hours'
rest, I came back to renew my duties; but I found that
my place was occupied by another, and so'concluded to
take passageon a vessel that was bound for Toledo, with
the intention of quitting the lake, for a season at least.
On parting with my shipmates, I saw that they had been
considerably affected by what had occurred.  Some of
them commended me for my dexterity in swimming; but
others seemed to regard it as being of little consequence
that my life was saved, as they thought by my looks that
I had not long to live.
The captain and crew of the vessel on which I had
taken passage treated me very kindly, as is their custom
when any of their companions are sick or distressed.




50                 ON TIlE WATER.
After a few days of fine sailing, we reached our destination. By this time my health was somewhat improved,
and, thinking best to take another trip, I shipped on
board a schooner bound for Oswego, N. Y. This time I
was more fortunate than before; for I was able to perform duty until, on our return voyage, we had reached
Canada, when my strength failed, and I felt obliged to
take the railroad en route for Fremont, Indiana, hoping,
thereby, to obtain rest and recovery within the quiet circle of my relatives and neighbors. As my course lay
near the great Falls of Niagara, I concluded to visit that
place, and the few hours of extreme ileasure I experienced while there, richly repaid me for my trouble in
going. I found, however, that all persons are not so well
pleased with their journey to this popular resort; for a
friendly Irishman who bore me company on that occasion
was sadly disappointed. He thought that the Falls had
been misrepresented, and declared, many times over, that
they were a" great humbug. He was finally quieted by
the retort of a lady to whom he h ad made this remark,
who replied, that if the river ran the other way over the
Falls, it would probably be some curiosity to him.
My journey to Fremont was not characterized by
anything unusual, except that my ghostly appearance
attracted the attention of my fellow-travelers, some of
whom remarked that I was a fair specimen of the workings of calomel on the human system. On my way I
called at Cleveland to receive my pay from the company
on whose vessel I had been sailing, and then went directly to my destination, and was soon ifterwards enjoying
the hospitality of my friends.
My visit, however, was not so cnjoyable as it had
been on previous occasions; for the fever still followed
me, and this, with the varied events of the past few




MISFORTUNE.                 51
months, caused my naturally buoyant spirits to droop
themselves into the very dust. My aunt endeavored to
cheer me by saying that I would be better bye and bye,
and by telling me that I had succeeded far better than
many of those around me. Then, to particularize, she
mentioned the cases of some who were deeply distressed,
among others the people who were blind, and asked me
how I would feel were I deprived of sight. I replied that
I could not bear such a calamity, and. should rid myself,of my existence at once.
Little did I know what I could endure when brought
to the task! Nor had I the remotest thought that, within
a few months, this bitterest cup would be pressed irresistibly to my lips, until I had drank its contents to their
lowest depths, and thereby enkindled within me a flame
that should scorch and burn my soul into a state of madness bordering on desperation. People often assert what
they would do under such and such afflictions; but I
think that experience and observation warrant me in
ssaying that there is no condition in life so abject or de-.plorable, but that those who are plunged therein will
struggle for their existence as long as reason has sway.
In my childhood I received a fall which injured one of
my eyes to such an extent that afterwards it became
blind. The appearance of the eye was not much injured
by this accident; but I regarded the misfortune so deeply
that any allusion made to it would fill me with a sense
*of pain or mortification. The other eye remained strong
and well most of the time until I was twenty years of
age, or a few weeks subsequent to my return to Fremont
from the lakes. After recovering a little from my illness
I began to assist my cousin in his blacksmith shop, and
was one day thus employed, when a hot cinder flew into
my eye which had before been injured. This caused a




52                  MISFORTUNE.
burning sensation at the time, and there followed a severe
inflammation lasting many days. Shortly after this affair
I awoke one morning after a hard day's work, and found
my other eye so weak that I could scarcely see. My overexertion, combined with my ill health, had probably induced this weakness, and an inflammation ensued which
was heightened by frequent applications of severe medicines prescribed by the village physician and others for
my relief. I continued in this state for many months,
suffering constantly the most excruciating pain, until,
finally, a severe cold destroyed my remaining sight. To
describe my feelings at this time would far exceed my
powers of delineation. Suffice it to say that, when I
found myself within this terrible darkness, I cursed my
existence and longed for death to relieve me. I envied
the lowest reptile that could see, and would have bartered
Heaven, with all its joys, for a little sight to guide me
through life's journey, could I have been assured that no
other punishment than annihilation should meet me at
its end.
In my most frenzied moments I imagined that God,
in his infinite mercy, could not punish a mortal so
afflicted for any course he might pursue, and, while
standing thus, clutching with a trembling hand the unsheathed dagger of suicide yet unstained, a thought came
to my mind that in some far-off Eastern city there might
be found a man of skill who could restore me, and, turning away, I resolved, weak and helpless as I was, to pursue at once this phantom of hope.




CHAPTER V.
RETURN EAST-SCHOOL LIFE AT NEW YORK-REMARKS ON
THE EDUCATION OF THE BLIND, WITH SOME
ACCOUNT OF THEIR ACHIEVEMENTS.
As may be sup'posed from what has been stated concerning my stay at Fremont, the people there all knew of
my distress and most of them gave me their warmest
sympathy. Their sympathy, however, came to me indirectly; for I was not in a condition to hear anything
from that direction, but studiously avoided the company
of those who would be likely to offer me any condolence
whatever. Another, and a far more substantial mode of
expressing their feelings for me, was proposed several
times, and was as often abandoned because of my disapproval. It was their earnest wish to circulate a subscription for my benefit; but I had always cherished a
spirit of self-reliance, and was not prepared to receive any
gifts, especially in a public way, and, consequently, replied to all their proposals, that I had earned means
enough to defray my expenses until I should receive my
sight, or until I should die, which I was confident would
be a speedy alternative. It happened very fortunately
for me at this time, that a neighbor and his family were
about to visit the East, and, as they expressed a willingness that I should accompany them, I gladly accepted
their kindness, and, by this means, found no difficulty
in traveling. At Buffalo we obtained of an optician some
eye-cups which he encouraged me to believe would restore
my sight, but which I found, after a faithful trial, were




54                 IRETURN EAST
as unavailing as the other remedies I had used. After
receiving the cups I directed my course to Mannsville,
thinking it would be best to visit my relatives until I
should recover, or resolve upon some future course of action; for, although I dreaded to return to my friends in
such a forlorn condition, it seemed the best thing I could
do, and I felt confident that they would give me a warm
reception. In justice to these friends I will say that I
was not disappointed in these expectations. There were
residing in this vicinity several families of near relatives,
and they vied with one another in doing all in their power
for my comfort.
A few months subsequent to my arrival we were visited by a friend who was connected with the office of
public instruction at Albany, N. Y. This friend was desirous that I should become a student at the Institution
for the Blind in New York, and offered to secure an appointment for me, saying that I was entitled to a term of
five years at that place. I readily consented to the plan,
although my friends seemed very reluctant to part with
me; for I had in view, not only my education, but I
trusted that something might be done for my eyes. As
soon as I was installed in the Institution, I went to the.
eye infirmary to ascertain if there could be any thing
done for me; but was told by the faculty that my case
was entirely hopeless. I then returned to the Institution,
feeling gratified, indeed, to a sympathizing public for
having established such an asylum, but too much weakened by sorrow and disease to avail myself of much of
its benefits.
This Institution of learning, it may be proper to remark, was founded in 1832, and, at the time of my coming (1856), was located on Ninth Avenue between Thirtythird and Thirty-fourth Streets, the workshops being sit



SCHOOL LIFE AT NEW YORK.           55
uated on Eight Avenue. The intermediate grounds were:
allotted to the students for recreation, the trees and
shrubbery being no hinderance to their sports. The students at this time numbered one hundred and eighty,
most of them being entirely blind. A few, however, had
sufficient sight to conduct the others on the streets when.
they wished to go outside. These seeing ones formed the
aristocracy of the place, though their honors were, of
course, well earned. These blind students, strange as it.
may appear, were cheerful and happy and most of them
were very talkative, seeming to take more delight in conversation than in meditation or study. Some of them, I
noticed, were more loquacious and spoke louder when
away from the Institution than at other times. This peculiarity may be attributed to their anxiety to be heard
amid the noise and confusion of the streets through which
they passed; but it often served as a roll-call to other
blind friends, especially those of the opposite sex, who
chanced to be within the sound of their voices; for chief
among the regulations of the school was a law  prohibiting the mingling of the sexes, and such plans as these
were frequently devised in order to secure a friendly intercourse.
The blind seldom intermarry, though I have often.
found them enjoying the wedded life with those whose
sight was imperfect, and, what seems strange to me, so,
far as my knowledge extends the children of the blind
invariably possess good sight, although the parent may
have been sightless from birth. There are many families
of the blind thus situated, who support themselves by
their trade, or by music, or as public teachers, who seem
as comfortable and happy as those who see; and yet I
believe that a majority of them would be in a better condition could they content themselves with a life of "sin



56           SCHOOL LIFE IN NEW YORK.
gle blessedness "-and this may be said with equal propriety of many who have the free use of their senses.
This Institution, like all those of the same character,
had two departments of instruction; namely, Literary
and Mechanical. The Literary Department comprised
most of the English studies, and to these were added
both Vocal and Instrumental Music.  The instruction
was given orally with the exception of Reading, Writing,
Mathematics, and Geography, a knowledge of these being
acquired by the sense of touch. The method of printing
for the blind has been so often explained by others, that
a description here seems quite unnecessary. The apparatus used in writing was simply a card in which were
parallel grooves designed to guide the pencil, the student
being previously taught the form of the letters by means
of blocks carved for this purpose. In the study of mathematics a slate was used, which was so constructed as to receive type on which points representing figures were engraved. The maps used in this Institution were made of
wood, the part representing land being elevated above
that representing water. The mountains, boundary lines,
cities and villages were indicated by slight elevations or
pin heads, while the rivers were marked by small grooves.
In the study of music, books with raised prints are
sometimes employed; but, generally, the lessons are first
read to the blind by a seeing teacher, and, when committed, can be easily taught by them to others. For any
student of ordinary capacity to memorize a piece of
music, only one or two readings are necessary. The
blind can learn to play skillfully on all kinds of instruments, but the piano and organ seem best adapted to
their condition. Many teachers and tuners of these instruments are employed in the city as well as the country and almost invariably give satisfaction. Indeed there




EDUCATION OF THE BLIND.           57
is no barrier to the progress of the blind in any intellectual
pursuit where a knowledge of color is not required.
Says S. G. Howe (Prin. of the New England Inst. for
the Blind) under date of 1836, " There are many avenues
open to the mind and, with the exception of color, all
kinds of knowledge of the physical world may be obtained through the medium of other senses than sight.
"As to the mind, and all its powers, as to the moral
world, and all its beauties, who cannot study them with
his eyes closed or in his dark closet as well as in the
broad blaze of day?
"For deaf mutes, we must invent a new language; and
when it is afterwards perfected, still how imperfect is its
range; how few of us learn it; and how like a man in a
foreign country and ignorant of its language must a deaf
mute ever. be, among people who cannot talk to him by
signs; yet to what beautiful and useful results have we
arrived in the education of this unfortunate class!
"But how much broader is the avenue to the minds
of the blind; how much nearer to us are they morally
and intellectually; and how free, illimitable, and perfect
may be our interchange of thought, reason, and feeling,
by means of conversation and by reading!
" The deaf mute must ever carry his slate with him, as
his imperfect interpreter. But the blind hears the lowest
whisper and judges by the slightest intonation.
"To him, silence is a blackboard, on which every,sound or tone writes its distinct and legible mark; and
his ear signalizes, with unerring accuracy to his mind,
every note in the gamut of feeling from the low breath of
affection, to the stern accents of defiance.
"How much is lost by the deaf mutes in the dark or
in the imperfect light of long evenings when their signs
can be but imperfectly seen and understood; while the
5




58            EDUCATION OF THE BLIND.
blind are ever prepared for conversation and exchange of
thought.
"tWe know the world is full of bright and beautiful
pictures. Now as we write, after having closed our eyes a
moment to reflect upon the situation of the blind shut up
in their dark cell of the body, when we turn toward the
green grass and gorgeous blossoms in view, we feel a gush
of inexpressible gratitude for the blessing of sight. Now
can any one love better than we do to admire and adore
the Power which gave beauty to the rose and lily, and
its greater loveliness to the human eye and face when radiant with health, and feeling, and intellect? And yet,
lovely and rich as is the world of sight, to us the world of
sound is richer and lovelier; and should we be obliged
to choose we would unhesitatingly prefer the darkness of
the blind to the dreary solitude and unbroken silence of
the deaf. We know there is a sudden shrinking at the
thought of injury to the sigh and a shudder at contemplating the situation of the blind; but a little reflection and
a little attention to the comparative advantages of each
class would make all side with us. And to confirm this
decision and show its wisdom, one has but to compare
the blind and the deaf of his acquaintance and think
who are the most cheerful, the most intelligent, and the
most agreeable. It is only physically that the blind can
possibly be considered as less favored than the deaf and
dumb; morally and intellectually the advantage is immensely on their side; and their moral, religious and intellectual education is far more easy and may be far more
advanced by art, than that of the deaf mutes.
" But, notwithstanding this truth and the apparent
fact that their physical infirmity calls more loudly upon
the community for aid in their behalf than in behalf of
the deaf mutes who can learn a trade and gain a liveli



EDUCATION OF THE -BLIND.          59
hood, there have been comparatively few efforts made in
their behalf; and, until within a few years, our country,
which boasts of some of the first institutions in the world,
hardly knew that the blind could be taught in schools.
Within these four years, however, much has been done.
Already one of our institutions, at least, offers advantages for the intellectual education of the blind equal
to any in the world, and the others are rapidly acquiring
these."
Since the above was penned by Mr. Howe the work
has rapidly progressed until nearly every State of our
Union has its Institution for the education of the blind,
and by this means a class, hitherto helpless and dependent, are enabled to sustain themselves honorably and
comfortably in our midst.
We come now to speak of the mlechanical department. In this several trades were vigorously and successfully pursued  The manufacture of brooms and of
mattresses, being the most acceptable to the inmates of
the Institution, and chiefly sought by them. The ladies
of the Institution also received daily instruction in the
art of needle work, and displayed much taste and ingenuity in this direction. They threaded their needles
without difficulty and seemed to be quite proud of their
attainments.
The making of bead-work was conducted by the students independent of the Institution during the hours
allotted them for recreation, and the proceeds of their
labor brought them quite an income. Their wares consisted of wire and beads so arranged as to form card
baskets, vases, etc., combining the useful with the ornamental. The beads were put into boxes of different sizes
that their color might be distinguished. The idea so
often entertained that the blind can discern color by the




60            EDUCATION OF THE BLIND.
touch is true only as far as this, that the different coloring substances used for coloring purposes so affect the
fabrics as to render them easily distinguishable by the
sense of touch, color itself being intangible. The idea
of the blind in reference to color is that it compares
with the different varieties of sound-the darker colors
with the lower tones, while the brighter bear a relation
to "the finer and higher keys. As an illustration, a blind
musician once said that red was like the sound of a bugle,
that scarlet resembled the music of the clarionet, and
green was like the ringing of bells.
Every Tuesday the Institution was opened for the inspection of the public. The visitors were conducted
through the different apartments by the blind graduates
who, in return, often obtained sales for their bead-work,
and sometimes received fine gifts or presents from the
most liberal of their guests. It was curious to note the
difference which existed in the minds of visitors with
reference to the ability of the blind; some supposing
that they could even paint the beautiful maps that hung
in the school room, while others wondered if they could
walk alone without stumbling or falling. Sometimes
they would converse about the blind in their presence as
though they considered them deprived of hearing as well
as sight. This of course afforded much amusement to the
unfortunates who were also often amused by the ludicrous questions that were often put to them.
One day, while a little boy was manufacturing a
large hand brush, a visitor inquired if he knew what
kind of a brush he was making and for what purpose.
The boy humorously replied that it was a tooth brush and
designed for cleaning the teeth. But the greatest curiosity
on the part of visitors was to know how they could eat unassisted, and frequently, during meal time, the windows




EDUCATION OF THE BLIND.           61
and doors of the dining hall were crowded with wondering
spectators to witness this entertainment.
One day an individual who had never witnessed
their skill at the table asked a blind boy to explain to
him their manner of eating. The boy replied that he
took a string and tied one end of it to the handle of a
spoon and the other end to one of his teeth, then, filling
the spoon with food, he traced the string up to his face,
opened his mouth and tipped the spoon into it. Of
course the stranger would infer there would be no further
trouble in disposing of the food. For my own part, I can
see no difficulty in the way of a blind person's finding his
own mouth; but I remember an instance when a person
of sight missed the mouth of another person, which he
was trying to find. It is related of a miserly individual
who, during the evening hours, would furnish no other
light save that which, came from the fire-place, that
on one occasion, while taking his evening meal, a humorous fellow who sat near him thrust a spoonful of hot pudding into his (the miser's) face, remarking, at the same time,
that it was so dark that he feared that he should get his
mush into the wrong mouth. After this a light was never
wanting, as Mr. Closefist did not relish hot mush in such
profusion.
The students here, like those in seeing schools, were
practical jokers. They did not, however, play their
pranks so much upon their comrades as upon the new
comers to the Institution. Generally, when a new student arrived, they would put a variety of questions to
him and, being satisfied of his ability, position in society
and depth of pocket (particularly the last, for money
was quite a consideration with them, especially when in
the hands of one who was liberally disposed), they
would proceed to examine his qualifications for school.




62            EDUCATION OF THE BLIND.
First they would try his voice to see if he would do
to enter the singing class; then he was required to dance,
and if he did not move around quite as lively as they desired, they.would request him to remove his boots and try
it ii his stocking feet, which he would do to the infinite
amusement of the bystanders who stood gazing intently
on the scene-with their ears of course. Sometimes it
was seriously suggested that the student might receive
his sight, and, being encouraged by this, he would willingly subject himself to the scrutinizing gaze of a blind
man who, after a thorough examination, would declare
his case a hopeless one. Thle results of these examinations were used during his stay as a reminder of his
novitiate.  As for myself, I escaped most of these
trials;  for wlen told by them  that Holland   had
been taken by the Dutch, I replied that such  jokes
were stale with me and that they had better perpetrate
them upon persons as verdant as themselves.   This,
with a few similar hits, gave me peace and a good
reputation among tlhem during the remainder of my
stay.
We have already stated that there were nearly two
hundred students at the Institution in the year 1856.
This may seem an astonishing number to those who
rarely meet with an individual of this class. But when
compared with the thousands of sightless ones who grope
their way in darkness over every habitable portion of our
sunny earth, the number is, indeed, quite insignificant.
Asia few statistics in relation to the number of the blind
may be acceptable to some of my readers I will here insert them, giving as my authority the American Encyclopedia and similar reliable works.
It is interesting to find that there is much less of
this affliction in our temperate latitudes than in the ex



EDUCATION OF THE BLIN).             63
tremely hot or cold climates; for instance, in the United
States the ratio of the blind to the entire population is
one to every two thousand three hundred and twentyeight, while in Egypt the ratio is one to every ninetyseven.
In this country the ratio is also much less than in
Europe. The difference in the former case is attributable
to the fact that the sun's rays are more intense and dazzling when reflected from the polar snows and from the
glittering fields of sand in the torrid zone than when they
strike upon less reflective parts of the earth; and, in the
latter case, to the facts that in the densely populated districts of Europe there are'nore accidents by gunpowder,
more prevalence of smallpox and other diseases which
often destroy the sight, and the intermarrying of relatives
is more frequent.
The number of blind in the United States is 10,000,
in Great Britain and Ireland 25,000, in Germany 30,000,
in France 33,000, in Russia 50,000, in the city of Yeddo
alone 36,000, and in the world the number exceeds
500,000.
Although there doubtless has been a large number of
this class in society from its earliest existence, or, at least,
so far remote as the time when the Patriarch declared
that he had been eyes for them, yet no public provision
was made for their education until the year 1780 when
Hany, a French philanthropist, established at Paris an
institution for their instruction. It is said that he was
moved in this direction while attending a blind concert
in which the performers were arrayed in peacocks' feathers, donkeys' ears, and spectacles without glasses, designed
of course, as a burlesque. Hany, whose heart was keenly
alive to the sorrows of others, could not bear to see his
fellow beings thus subjected to ridicule, and so.began at




64            EDUCATION OF TIIE BLIND.
once to devise means for their relief. His first student
was a blind beggar to whom he paid a stipulated sum for
his services. In a little time the student made such
proficiency that others were induced to attend the school.
A philanthropic society at Paris was also attracted
to this object, and by their assistance the number of students was soon increased to twenty-four. In the year
1786 it was thought best to give an exhibition before the
king, which was done with so much success that the
king granted them an annuity.
Everything went on harmoniously with Hany and
his proteges until the year 1791 when, France being
plunged into a state of revolution, the government neglected to give them their support. The philanthropic society that had assisted them was obliged to withdraw its
patronage as many of its members were in exile; and,
being thus left in a destitute condition, the school was
scarcely able to maintain its existence. It is said that
Hany at this time lived on one meal a day for more than
a year that his pupils might not starve.
When peace was restored the institution went on as
prosperously as before, until the government concluded
to unite this institution with another asylum of the blind
which had existed in Paris for many years. The members of this asylum had never received any instruction in
literature or in mechanics and were, therefore, indolent
and vicious. Soon after this union it was discovered, as
might be expected, that the example of those who were
bred in idleness had a pernicious effect upon the students,
and Hany who could not bear to see the fruits of seventeen years' labor thus despoiled gave up his situation
and retired to private life. He did not, however, remain
long in retirement as he soon received an invitation from
the Czar of Russia to come to his dominions, which he




EDUCATION OF TIHE BLIND.          65
accepted and shortly after founded an institution for the
blind at St. Petersburg.
Dr. Howe, after describing Hany's career at Paris,
says: "Among the first six of Hany's pupils, two attained eminence and are now living monuments of what
may be done by the blind; one is Alexander Rodenbach,
late member of the Belgian Representative Assembly, an
ardent and intelligent patriot, a good speaker and an influential man; and the other is a Professor of Mathematics in the college at Angers. The fame of Hany's
success in teaching the blind to read, write, cipher, etc.,
reached the ear of the Emperor of Russia, who invited
him to come to St. Petersburg and establish an institution there. The direction, given for it, however, were
much in the same spirit as would have been issued for a
bear garden, or a Rarey show at which the people might
wonder, and for which they might glorify the government. It was rather an attempt to make the people do
wonderful things tour, de force than to enable them to
overcome the obstacles in the way to their improvement
and independence. Accordingly the institution soon sank
into insignificance and disappeared, while one at Berlin,
established by some individuals on whom Hany engrafted his spirit, took deep root and is now flourishing.
Other institutions were soon established in different cities
on the Continent and in England. The best are those of
Edinburgh, Paris, and Vienna. These institutions are of
two kinds, some uniting intellectual education with instruction in the mechanical arts, others confining the
pupils entirely to work, as weavers, basket makers, braiders, etc. Those of England are principally of the latter
kind, at Liverpool, indeed, they are taught music and
many churches are supplied with organists from the




66            EDUCATION OF THE BLIND.
school for the blind. They are however not taught to
read or write."
The school at Paris continued to decline until all
their studies were abandoned with the exception of
music, and this was chiefly performed by Hany's old
students. About twelve years subsequent to the resignation of Hany, whose place was filled by an ignorant
superintendent, the institution was separated from the
old asylum that had encumbered it and a new superintendent chosen for the place. Unlike his immediate predecessor, the new comer was a man of energy and ability;
but his efforts were directed mainly to his own aggrandizement and not to the welfare of those who were intrusted to his care. In order to effect his purpose more
successfully he purchased manufactured articles from the
shops of the seeing and exhibited them as the workmanship of his own pupils; he further taught them to recite
lessons in Latin, Greek, German, Italian, and other languages, while at the same time they were ignorant of the
most rudimentary examples in Arithmetic. His glory,
however, was not of long duration; for the government
officials, suspecting his course, entered into an investigation which resulted in his disgraceful dismissal from the
institution. The superintendent who followed him was
a man of virtuous character and fine achievements; but
it was soon discovered that he had not a tact for educating the blind, and the position was given to one of the
teachers who had been twenty-five years in their service.
He was a man eminently qualified for the position, and
under his supervision the institution soon gained an
enviable and lasting reputation.
In a little less than fifty years from the time that
Hany, whom the French justly style the apostle for the




EDUCATION OF THE BLIND.            67
blind, commenced his work of philanthropy at Paris, a
similar movement was inaugurated in our own country
by Dr. S. G. Howe, whom I have quoted so extensivly in
-this connection. The work was completed in the year
1832, and was located at Boston, Massachusetts, under the
title of theNew England Institution for the Blind. This
-earnest philanthrophist, Dr. Howe, to whom the blind, of
this country especially, are so much indebted for his untiring labors in their behalf during the past half century, is
the same that instructed Laura Bridgman, the deaf and
dumb and blind girl, with whose doings the public have
been so long familiar. This child of misfortune was deprived from her earliest infancy, not only of her sight, hearing
and speech, but mostly of the sense of taste and smell;
yet, notwithstanding this seemingly impassable barrier,
she has learned to do many things that are truly marvelous and has also obtained a knowledge of the moral
world and its beauties, surpassed by few who live in the
enjoyment of all their senses. Dr. Hoag, after a visit to
the Boston Institution for the Blind, where he met Miss
Bridgman, says, "I have seen Laura Bridgman whom
God sent into this world without sight, hearing or the
power of speech. She could see nothing, hear nothing,
ask nothing. To her the very thunder has ever been in
silence, and the sun blackness. The tips of her fingers
and the palms of her hands have been her eyes and
tongue, yet that poor, sickly girl knows much of the
earth, of language and numbers, of human relationship
and passions, of what is, has been, shall be, should be,
of sin, death and hell, of God, Christ and Heaven; and
all this has gone darkly through that poor child's slender
fingers, darkly feeling of the fingers of another, and thus
she tells her hopes, fears and sorrows; and if she, groping thus blindly for the Savior, finds him and rests her




68               LAURA BRIDGMAN.
weary hands on his lowly head, that blessed head that
bows lowly enough even for this, oh! how will she rise
up in judgment and condemn you, 0, sinner, upon whose
soul every sense is flowing the knowledge of God, while
your eyes read His holy word, and your ears hear a.
thousand times over those tidings of great joy, even the
glorious gospel of the blessed God!"
During one of Ireland's severest scourges by famine
Laura Bridgman is said to have earned with her own
needle a barrel of flour, and sent it to the relief of those
starving, helpless people.  It is characteristic of those
in the deepest affliction to be most solicitous for the welfare of those who are alike unfortunate; and, so far as
duty is concerned, it makes little difference whether the
enlightened soul inhabit a temple of health, sight and
hearing, or whether it be pent up in that dark, silent
tenement of which we have just spoken.
As many enquiries have been made respecting the
mode of instruction pursued in educating Laura Bridgman, I will here insert some particulars which were
given by Charles Dickens in his notes of American travel.
He quotes from an account written by that one man who
has made her what she is:
"'Laura Bridgman was.born in Hanover, New
Hampshire, on the twenty-first day 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.




LAURA BRIDGMAN.               69
"'Then her mental powers, hitherto stinted in their
growth, rapidly developed themselves, and during the
four months of health w hich 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 forever, 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 her taste was much blunted. It was not until
after 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 cat. But
the immortal spirit implanted within her could not die, nor
be maimed nor mutilated, and though most of its a'e nues
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 familar with the form, density,
weight and heat of every article she could lay her hands




70               LAURA BRIDGMAN.
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 be told, however, that the opportunities of communicating with her were very, very limited,
and that the moral effect of her wretched state soon be —
gan to appear. Those who cannot be enlightened by rea —
son must be controlled by force, and this, coupled with
her great privations, must soon have reduced her to a.
worse condition than the beasts that perish, but for
timely and unhoped for aid.
"'At this time I was so fortunate as to hear of the
child, and immediatly hastened to Hanover to see her. I
found her with a well formed figure, a strongly marked,
nervous-sanguine temperament, a large and beautifully
shaped head,'and the whole system in healthy action.
The parents were easily induced to consent to her coming
to Boston, and on the fourth of October, 1837, they
brought her to the Massachusetts Asylum for the Blind
at Boston. For a whileshe was much bewildered; and
after waiting about two weeks, until she became acquainted with her new locality, and somewhat famliar, with the
inmates, the attempt was made to give her knoweledge
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 individu —
al thing, or to give her a knowledge of letters by combination of which she might express her ideas of the existence and the mode and the condition of existence of




LAURA BRIDGMAN.               71
anything. The former would have been easy but very
ineffectual; the latter seemed very difficult, but if accomplished, very effectual. I determined to try the latter.' "The first experiments were made by taking articles
in common use, such as knives, forks, spoons, keys, etc.,
and pasting upon them labels with their names printed in
raised letters. These she felt very carefully, and soon,
pf 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 intellectual exercise was
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, but apparently without the intellectual perception of any relation between 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 b-o-o-k, k-e-y, etc.;
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
b-o-o-k, k-e-y, etc., 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 amaze



72               LAURA BRIDGMAN.
ment and patiently imitated everything her teacher did 
but now the truth began to flash upon her, her intelect
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 own 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 a 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 over 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 labor 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 appara



LAURA BRIGDMAN.                 73
tus 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 had 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 labors. 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 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,
6




74                LAURA BRIDGMAN.
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 odors, 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 gayety 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 self-communion she
seems to reason, reflect, and argue; if she spells 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 word wrong 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




LAURA BRIDGMAN.               75
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 its 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 passage way 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 favorites, there is instantly a bright smile
of recognition, and a twining of arms, a grasping of hands,
and a swift telegraphing upon the tiny fingers, whose
rapid evolutions convey the thoughts and feeling 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
sometime 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




76               LAURA BRIDGMAN.
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 recognized 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 tried 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 recognized, 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's 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 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, yielding 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 had




LAURA BRIDGMAN.               77
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.
"'It has been remarked in former reports, that she
can distinguish different degrees of intellect in others, and
that she soon regarded almost with contempt a new'
comer, when, after a few days, she discovered her weakness of mind. This unamiable part of her character has
been more strongly developed during the past year. She
chooses for her friends and companions those children
who are intelligent and can talk best with her; and she
evidently dislikes to be with those who are deficient in
intellect, unless indeed, she can make them serve her purporses, which she is evidently inclined to do. She takes
advantage of them, and makes them wait upon her, in a
manner that she knows she could not exact of others;
and in various ways she shows her saxon blood.
"'She is fond of having other children noticed and




78                LAURA BRIDGMAN.
caressed by the teachers and those whom she respects;
but this must not be carried too far, or she becomes jealous. She wants to have her share, which, if not the
lion's, is the greater part; and if she does not get it, she
says, " my mother will love me."
"'Her tendency to imitation is so strong, that it leads
her to actions which must be entirely incomprehensible
to her and which can give her no other pleasure than the
gratification of an internal faculty. She has been known
to sit for half an hour, holding a book before her sightless
eyes, and moving her lips, as she has observed seeing
people do when reading. She one day pretended that
her doll was sick, and went through all the motions of
tending it and giving it medicine; she then put it carefully to bed, and placed a bottle of hot water to its feet,
laughing all the time most heartily. When I came home
she insisted upon my going to see it, and feel its pulse;
and when I told her to put a blister on its back, she
seemed to enjoy it amazingly, and almost screamed with
delight.
"'1Ier social feelings, and her affections, are very
strong; and when she is sitting at work or at her studies,
by the side of her little friends, she would break off from
task every few moments, to hug and kiss them with an
earnestness and warmth that is touching to behold.
When left alone, she occupies and apparently amuses
herself, and seems contented; and so strong seems to be
the natural tendency of thought to put on the garb of language, that she often soliloquizes in the finger language,
slow and tedious as it is. But it is only when alone that
she is quiet; for, if she becomes sensible of the presence
of any one near her, she is restless until she can sit close
beside them, hold their hand and converse with them by
signs.




LAURA BRIDGMAN.                79'In her intellectual character it is pleasing to observe
an insatiable thirst for knowledge, and quick perception of
the relations of things. In her moral character, it is
beautiful to behold her continual gladness, her keen enjoyment of existence, her expanisve love, unhesitating
confidence, her sympathy with suffering, her conscientiousness, truthfulness, and hopefulness.'
"'Such are a few fragments from the simple, but the
most interesting and instructive history of Laura Bridgman. Her great benefactor and friend who writes it is
Doctor Howe. There are not many persons, I hope and
believe, who, after reading these passages, can ever hear
that name with indifference.
" A further account has been published by Dr. Howe
since the report from which I just quoted. It describes
her rapid mental growth and improvement during twelve
months more, and brings her little history down to the
last year. It is very remarkable that, as we dream in
wQrds, and carry on imaginary conversations, in which
we speak both for ourselves and for the shadows who appear to us in those visions of the night, so she, having no
words, uses her finger alphabet in her sleep; and it has
been ascertained that when her slumber is broken, and is
much disturbed by dreams, she expresses her thoughts in
an irregular and confused manner on her fingers, just as
we should murmur and mutter indistinctly, in the like
circumstances.
"'I turned over the leaves of her diary, and found it
written in a fair, legible, square hand, and expressed in
terms which were quite intelligible. Without any explanation, on my saying that I would like to see her write
again, the teacher who sat beside her, bade her, in their
language, sign her name upon a slip of paper, twice or
thrice.. In doing so, I observed that she kept her left




80               LAURA BRIDGMAN.
hand always touching and following up her right, in
which, of course, she held the pen. No line was indicated
by any contrivance, but she wrote straight and freely.
"'She had, until now, been quite unconscious of the
presence of visitors; but having her hand placed in that
of the gentleman who accompaniced me, she immediately
expressed his name upon her teacher's palm. Indeed
her sense of touch is now so exquisite, that having been
acquainted with a person once, she can recognize him or
her, after almost any interval. This gentleman had been
in her company, I believe, but very seldom, and certainly
had not seen her for many months. My hand she rejected at once, as she does that of any man who is a
stranger to her; but she retained my wife's with evident
pleasure, kissed her, and examined her dress with a girl's
curiosity and interest.
"'She was merry and cheerful, and showed much innocent playfulness in her intercourse with her teacher.
Her delight on'recognizing a favorite playmate and companion, herself a blind girl, who silently, and with an
equal enjoyment of the coming surprise, took a seat beside her, was beautiful to witness. It elicited from her,
at first, as other slight circumstances did twice or thrice
during my visit, an uncouth noise, which was rather
painful-to hear. But on her teacher's touching her lips,
she immediately desisted, and embraced her laughingly
and affectionately.
"'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 BIridgman. Throughout his life, the recollection of that moment will be to him a source of pure, unfading happiness,
nor will it shine least brightly in the evening of his days
of noble usefulness.




LAURA BRIDGMAN.               81
"'The affection that exists between these two, the
master and 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 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 you 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 may 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
crowds, impressed me very painfully. Ah! how much
brighter and more deeply blue, glowing and rich than it
had been before, was the scene without, contrasting with
the darkness of so many youthful lives within.' 
Having spoken at some length upon the education of
the blind we will now conclude this subject with a few
remarks concerning their achievements as given by the




82               REV. DR. WILLARD.
Encyclopedia to which we have referred in a previous
part of this chapter. Among the many instances of remarkable blind men, few are more worthy of record
than the Rev. Dr..Willard, of Deerfield, Mass. Dr. Willard is now (1858) in his 83d year, and lost his sight, at
least so far as ability to read was concerned, at the age of
43. He was already known favorably to the public by
his writings on controversial, musical, and scientific subjects; but the commencement of his blindness seemed
the beginning of a new era in his intellectual career.
Within the forty years that have since intervened he has
prepared and published: 1. A volume of hymns, composed by himself, each constructed with the purpose of
making the rhetorical correspond with the musical
rythm, a work of great labor; 2. A collection of hymns,
from various authors; 3. A series of primary school
books, which have enjoyed a large popularity; 4. " Principles of Rhetoric and Elocution;" 5. "Memorials of
Daniel E. Parkhurst," one of his successors in the pastorate of the Congregational Church at Deerfield; 6. " The
Grand Issue," an ethico-political pamphlet upon the relations of slavery; 7. "An Affectionate Remonstrance,"
with certain orthodox ministers and periodicals concerning the temper and style of religious controversy; 8. Several single sermons. Besides these, he has in manuscript
an elaborate essay on phonography, to which subject he
has devoted special attention for many years, and a work
on the " Harmony of Musical and Poetical Expression."
During a considerable portion of the period inwhich
he has been engaged upon these works he has had the
care of a large parish. Dr. Willard is a man of very active habits, and performs with ease and readiness many
of those arts for which we are accustomed to regard sight
as indispensible. He gathers his own fruit, climbing the




REV. DR. WILLARD.              83
trees readily, notwithstanding his age; prunes them carefully and judiciously; digs, lays out and plants his garden, selecting and sowing the seed without mistake; saws
and carries in his own wood, and seems almost unconscious of his privation. He has for the last twenty-five
years been completely blind, and for twelve years previous had only been able to distinguish large objects indistinctly; but even now, when closeted in his room, visions of the green fields and sunny slopes of the Connecticut Valley appear to him as really as when he gazed upon
them with the eyes which for so long a period have admitted no light. He denies that this is imagination, but
regards it as an exhibition of one of the mysterious modes
in which the mind may hold communication with the
outer world without aid of the senses.
Notwithstanding his great age, there are no symptoms of failure in his intellectual powers. He has always
contended that the loss of memory and the vitiation of
the other mental faculties in the aged were the result of
mental inactivity; and as his own years rolled on, resolved to test his theory on his own case. In April, 1857,
at his own request, his memory was severely tested by a
friend. Of one hundred and ten passages of Scripture
selected at random from both the Old and New Testaments read to him he gave, in nearly every instance, the
book, chapter and verse correctly at once. Of forty lines
taken from his "Hymns," he gave the hymn, verse and
line in nearly every instance. His memory was tested in
regard to the graduates of seven colleges, whose names
were called from the triennial catalogues, and he gave
readily the college and year of graduation of all persons
with whom he was acquainted, of all distinguished public and professional men, of all judges, presidents and professors of colleges, members of the American Academy, &c.




84             REV. DR. WOODBRIDGE.
A recent instance of a blind man pursuing his
mental cultivation and practicing the duties of a profession with eminent success, is that of the blind minister,
the Rev. Dr. Timothy Woodbridge, now living at Spencertown, N. Y. He was born at Stockbridge, Mass., in 1784.
His mother was a daughter of the elder President Edwards, and one of his cousins was the renowned Aaron
Burr.
During his sdcond year in college he lost the sight of
one eye by weakness and inflammation, caused by hard
study and heightened by a severe cold. His remaining
eye seemed at first strengthened in keenness and force by
loss of the first; but before his college period was finished it became in like manner inflamed, and its sight
was gradually extinguished. Mr. Woodbridge bore his
misfortune with a philosophic and buoyant temper, received the commiseration of his associates with indifference or contempt, and at once accommodated his plans
to the new circumstances in which he was placed. Selecting the profession of law, he formed large schemes of
study, and with the aid of numerous young gentlemen
who read to him, he not only mastered legal work, but.
studied thoroughly ancient and modern history, and
went over the whole range of English classics from the
age of Elizabeth.
He was cherishing political aspirations, and had
gained some distinction as a political orator; when, in
1809, his attention being'strongly drawn to the subject of
religion, he experienced a religious change, and determined to devote himself to preaching the Gospel. i He
pursued theological studies at Andover, became acquainted with the most eminent ministers of the time, was admired as a preacher when he began the practice of his
profession, and was for twenty-four years pastor at Green




REV. DR. WOODBRIDGE.           85
River in the State of New York. It was his custom to
have with him a young man who was skilled in reading
and writing, and to. whom he often dictated the heads of
his sermons in order to stamp them the more deeply on
his own memory. Yet he had so well trained himself
that on Saturday evening he always had distinctly in
mind not only the substance, but generally the form and
language of the two or three sermons which he was to deliver the next day; he was uniformly cheerful, and loved
society; and his recently published autobiography is interesting, not only for its genial and happy tone, but
for its judicious reflections upon many notable men and
works.
The Rev. William H. Milburn, another remarkable
example of genius triumphing over apparently insuperable difficulties, was born in Philadelphia, September 26,
1823. He lost the sight of one eye irretrievably and of
the other partially in early childhood. His own account
of the amount of vision which remained to him, in an
address at the publishers' festival in 1855, is as follows:'Time was when, after a fashion, I could read; but never
with that flashing glance which instantly transfers a
word, a line, a sentence, from the page to the mind. It
was the perpetuation of the child's process, a letter at a
time, always spelling, never reading truly. Thus, for
more than twenty years, with the shade upon the brow,
the hand upon the cheek, the finger beneath the eye to
make an artificial pupil, with beaded sweat, joining with
the hot tears trickling from the weak and paining organ,
to blister upon the page, was my reading done."
Notwithstanding this serious disability in the way of
obtaining an education, he was determined to accomplish
if, and we find him, accordingly, at the age of 14, a clerk
in a store in Illinois, endeavoring in his leisure moments




86              REV. WM. H. MILBURN.
to fit for college. He attained his purpose, passed through
his collegiate course with honor, though at the cost of his
health, which failed under the intense application which
his imperfect vision rendered necessary.
At the age of 20 he entered the ministry in the Methodist Episcopal Church as an itinerant. In the course of
twelve years' itinerancy he occupied fields in almost
every part of the Union, and traveled over two hundred
thousand miles in the performance of clerical duties
everywhere cordially received and welcomed not less for
the amiability and modesty of his manners than for his
extraordinary eloquence as a preacher'and lecturer. He
officiated as chaplain to Congress during two sessions,
and with great acceptance. In 1853 he removed his family to New York city, where he has since resided, having
left the circuit from the special inconvenience it entailed
upon him, and since that time has preached as a supply
to vacant churches, and followed the profession of a public lecturer, in which he has met with extraordinary success. In 1857 he published a volume of his lectures
under the title of "Rifle, Axe, and Saddle-bags," which
has had quite a large sale; the lectures were based on a
solid substratum of facts, revealing high descriptive
powers and a brilliant imagination.
Benjamin B. Bowen, of Massachusetts, was blind
from infancy, and passed several years of his childhood
as a fisher boy. He graduated in 1839 from the Perkins
Institution for the Blind in Boston, and has, since then,
been busily employed as a musician, lecturer and author.
He published, in 1847, a duodecimo volume entitled the
"Blind Man's Offering."




CHAPTER VI.
VACATION VISIT TO TIlE WEST-FINAL DEPARTURE FROM
THE INSTITUTION-I RESOLVED TO ENTER A SCHOOL OF
THE SEEING-REMARKS ON HILLSDALE COLLEGE AND MY
EXPERIENCE THERE. 
After I had been at New York nearly four years I
concluded to make a tour through the West. There were
several friends whom I wished to visit on my way, but
my final destination was my aunt's family, with whom
I had lived while losing my eyesight, and who were at
this time residing in the State of Illinois. I was prompted to do this, partly because I wished to meet with those
whom I loved so much (for now that I was shut out from
the world around me my friends seemed much dearer to
me than before), and partly because my health was not
good enough to reap much benefit from the school. And
so, without feeling much regret at parting from the Institution, although I did not expect to return, I bade my
blind friends good-bye, and started with the intention of
making Mannsville my first destination.
Perhaps I should say in justice to the Institution,
that I received the kindest treatment during most of my
stay with them. The Superintendent, Mr. T. C. Cooper
(now deceased), was unusually kind to me during the last'two years,' and the other officers of the Institution followed his example. Care was taken at every meal, that
my plate was supplied with something extra, not because
I was better than the other students, but because my
state of health justified this course; and I shall never




88          VACATION VISIT TO THE WEST.
forget the kind regard the students manifested for me
whenever an opportunity was afforded them. But notwithstanding all this, I felt that I should be more comfortable within the quiet homes of my friends, than I
could expect to be within the walls of a public institution. I remained in the vicinity of Mannsville several
weeks, and spent most of the time while there in selling
bead-work manufactured by some lady graduates of our
Institute who resided in New York. I found ready sale
for these articles, partly on account of their being a curiosity and partly because the people wished to patronize
those who were laboring under such disadvantages for
their own support.
My next point of interest was South Valley, Cattaraugus county, N. Y., where lived an uncle whom I held
in high esteem. My uncle's home was near the Alaghana
Reservation, a tract of land reserved by the Six Nations,
when they ceded a portion of their country to our government. Here I had an opportunity of becoming somewhat acquainted with the Indian character; for, although
they were in general rather shy of us, yet one of their
number proved to be an exception to the rule and made
us frequent and prolonged visits. His dress consisted of
pantaloons and shirt, fashioned like the Europeans; but,
unlike them, he wore his shirt outside the other garments,
which gave him rather a slouching appearance. He was
very talkative, especially after partaking of a hearty dinner and several glasses of hard cider; then he was ready
to tell us of the spirit land, to sing songs or to perform
war dances, and would even go into a douele shuffle
whenever I played a lively tune for him on the violin.
Of course I am not in favor of dancing as it is publicly
managed, and would not be a fiddler, particularly a
"blind fiddler," for any consideration whatever. But




VACATION VISIT TO THE WEST.        89
this old Indian danced in the day time, danced when he
needed exercise, and stopped when he was weary-though
on one occasion I determined to put his powers of endurance to the test, and so kept playing until my friends,
fearing that he would become entirely exhausted, advised
me to rest. As soon as the music ceased he threw himself into a chair, exclaiming almost breathlessly, "long
song dat!"
A piece of information concerning the physical appearance of the natives gave me a little surprise. I was
told that quite a number of them had blue eyes and light
hair. Now I had learned from my geography, when a
boy, that Indians had black eyes and dark hair, and I
had never heard of an exception to this rule; but here it
seems Dame Nature stepped out from her course and
gave to the dusky savage a light complexion, blue eyes,
and, in a few instances, golden tresses. But I will leave
the solution of this mystery to others and resume my
journey; for I have stayed in this place about seven
weeks, which you will acknowledge is quite a visitation.
The time, however, has been spent very pleasantly; for,
besides the profitable reading we have enjoyed and the
lively visit within doors, we have been almost daily to
the river and have many times skated together over its
frozen surface (for it is winter), and on one occasion we
climbed nearly to the summit of a mountain that throws
its giant shadows almost athwart the little valley where
my uncle and his family reside.
After parting with my relatives and their aboriginal
neighbors I proceeded on my way until I reached Hudson, Ohio, when a short ride brought me to the home of
one of my father's sisters. This aunt was a young girl
and lived at home with my grandmother during the time
she had charge of me in my infancy, and, as might be
7




90          VACATION VISIT TO THE WEST.
expected, she and her family gave me a warm reception
and provided me with every comfort while I remained
with them. In fact she, like others of my friends, thought
I ought to live with her as she was lonely and no one had
any stronger claims upon me than herself.
My next stopping place was near Toledo, Ohio, where
I was agreeably entertained by my friends, with whom I
lived at intervals during my sailor life, and, after spending a reasonable length of time with them, I journeyed
on to Fremont, Indiana. My relative who had formerly
resided in this place had removed, as I have before stated,
to Illinois; but I found rich enjoyment in the company
of my old neighbors, especially one whose daughter had
been the companion of many school boy excursions.
This family, like many others I have met,. rallied me
about some of my youthful blunders and experiences.
They said, among other things, that when I wished Eunice to go with me, I would linger about the premises
until she made her appearance. I was too bashful to
enter the house. Of course I had not forgotten those
things; nor had I forgotten the time when Eunice returned to me from her mother with the announcement
that she could not be spared from home. This was the
last invitation I gave her; for I was uncertain whether
her mother prevented her from going, or whether she had
framed this excuse to avoid my disapprobation. In justice, however, to Eunice, I will say that she has since informed me that she was vexed at her mother for not letting her go. But this, probably, is not the only time that
my diffidence has deprived me of much enjoyment.
When I had completed my stay at Fremont I went
directly to the home of my aunt with whom I was living
at the time of my misfortune, and who was at this time
residing near Seneca, La Salle county, Illinois. While at




VACATION VISIT TO THE WEST.        91
her house, one of her sons, a namesake of mine, being of
an ambitious turn of mind, induced me to put forth some
efforts in the direction of obtaining a permanent home
and property for myself. He first proposed that I should
purchase a breaking team, as there was much unbroken
prairie in his vicinity, and he could manage the work for
me. This I accordingly did. The team consisted of two
yoke of oxen. The plan might have succeeded well had
not one of the oxen died before the breaking season was
entirely over. This threatened to be quite a disaster, for
cattle were very high at that time. My cousin, however,
sold the remaining ox for enough to buy a pair of young
steers which he raised free of charge for me. My aunt
also contributed by raising a steer to fill the dead one's
place, so that my loss was really a gain, as far as I was
individually concerned.
My cousin next proposed that I should establish a
broom manufactory, as I had devoted a portion of my
time while at the Institution for the Blind in learning
that trade. He promised to raise the broom corn and
build a shop for me on his premises if I would make my
home with him. I gladly acceded to the plan on condition that, before putting it into operation, I should return to New York and become better acquainted with the
business. On my return to New York I was cordially
received by the Superintendent of the Institution, who
wrote immediately to Albany for my re-appointment, as
the time of my first appointment had expired during my
stay in the West. He was not successful, however, in
his efforts in my behalf, for the reason that I was past
the age prescribed by the board of instruction for the admission of pupils into the school, and my case was not
considered an exception to the rule. But this disappointment did not defeat my purpose; for while waiting for




92                    JOHN.
returns from Albany, I became slightly acquainted with
the overseer of the broom shop, a young man partially
blind, and our acquaintanceship resulted in a proposal
on his part to accompany me into the country and teach
me the broom trade, providing I would share equally
with him the proceeds of our labor. As this was a better
opportunity than the Institution could have afforded me,
I readily accepted it; and, as soon as matters could be
arranged for the young man's departure, we set out for
Mannsville en route for Seneca, Illinois. John (as my
new friend was generally called) was an Englishman by
birth, and, judging by his manner and the letters he received while we were together, was of very respectable
parentage. When a little more than twenty years of age
he bade adieu to his nation, England, to seek his fortune
in the new world, a world at that time peopled with entire strangers to him. Soon after his arrival in this country he engaged with a partner to work in an iron mine a
few miles from New York city. This business was yielding him a fair income when it was suddenly cut short by
the unexpected explosion of a blast which he was superintending. This accident resulted in the loss of all the
fingers of his right hand with the exception of his thumb,
and also the entire loss of his sight. His life would
probably have been sacrificed had it not been for a heavy
hat which he wore at the time, the hat itself being blown
into a thousand fragments. Immediately after this accident he was taken to the city and placed in a hospital
where he was kindly attended until his wounds were
healed and partial sight restored in one of his eyes. The
sight he received, however, was barely suffitient to enable
him to discern large objects at a short distance and decipher coarse reading matter when the print was within a
few inches of his face. In this condition he offered him



JOHN.                    93
self as a student to the Institution for the Blind and was
finally accepted, although his foreign birth made it difficult for him to obtain this object. Soon after his admission into the Institution he requested permission to learn
the broom trade; but here a new difficulty assailed him.
The shop was thronged with journeymen and applicants
for the business, and the man who had it in charge, with
others, declared that no man whose hand was so badly deformed could make brooms; but, notwithstanding, they
were obliged to admit him into their ranks, and John,
with a spirit of determination that would have done
honor to Napoleon himself, labored incessantly and with
so much success that, in a few months, he was acknowledged the best workman among the students, and was
soon after raised to the position of overseer, in which capacity he was acting at the time of our meeting.
It was, of course, a, matter of surprise, both to the
people of the Institution and my friends at home,, that
one so well qualified for business, and holding so good a
situation, should gowith one who was almost an entire
stranger to him; but I think he never regretted this
course, although we were not as successful financially as
we could have wished. John was about five feet six
inches in height, strongly built, and rather prepossessing
in appearance, although he was somewhat disfigured by
his misfortune. He had an active mind, a generous disposition, and great conversational abilities, although he
rarely conversed with any except his most intimate
friends. He was at that time-and for aught I know, is
yet-unmarried.
Soon after our arrival at Mannsville we concluded to
spend a few months in that vicinity, as my cousin in Illinois was not quite prepared to receive us; and to make
the time pass pleasantly we visited among my friends




94                    JOHrN.
and relatives, and engaged them to raise corn for us to
manufacture.
As broom material at that time was nearly as dear as
when made up, we concluded not to work at our trade
until our own corn should be ready for use. Meantime
we determined not to be idle, and we purchased some
maps, and, each with a small bundle under his arm, we
started out, hand in hand, to dispose of them. In this
operation we succeeded very well, as it was in time of
the war, when maps of our country were in greater demand than they otherwise would have been. We also
obtained some pleasure as well as profit from our employment, and occasionally an incident took place which
greatly amused us; for instance, while stopping at the
house of a friend in whose vicinity we were acquainted,
we were in the habit of taking a morning walk, partly
for pastime, and partly for the benefit the exercise afforded us. In a short time after our coming we were surprised to learn that our presence had created considerable
excitement among the inhabitants for some distance
around. It had been reported that two suspicious looking strangers, probably "rebel spies," were lurking in the
neighborhood. They were even patroling the country in
the daytime; but they invariably returned before evening to pass the night in the woods. On some occasions
they were observed to be walking at a rapid pace at some
distance from the rendezvous, but they took no notice of
anybody by the roadside, although the people had frequently run out to their gates to attract their attention.
Poor souls! If they had known that the defective sight
of one eye guided us both, they would not have found
fault with us for not staring at them; and if they had
followed us along our woodland path to the comfortable
residence of our friend, they would have known that




JOHN.                   95
we were enjoying as comfortable lodgings as themselves.
But these people, like many others at that time, were so
much excited by the rebellion, that they looked with suspicion and dread upon nearly all who came among them.
Soon after this another event transpired which furnished more amusement for those who witnessed it than to
myself. We were visiting at the house of a friend where
a little old lady was stopping at the same time. Being desirous of playing with the children, I caught hold, as I supposed, of a young girl who was standing near me, and drew
her on my lap. But John, who was sitting by my side, was
able to see sooner than I could feel my mistake, and so hurriedly exclaimed, " Harvey, you have got the grandmother!"
Upon this I relaxed my hold, and the old lady scampered
off as soon as she could recover her feet, as much frightened as myself, though not displeased with me; she had
too much sense to take umbrage at an innocent blunder.
Another advantage I received from traveling was the
information I received from John, which he would not
otherwise have given me; for, although he was a man of
taciturnity when in company, and would sit for hours
without speaking a word except to answer in monosyllables the questions put to him, yet when we were by ourselves he would converse so freely and eloquently that I
thought him one of the wisest men I had ever known,
and felt certain that he must have spent his life in profound study and meditation. But since then, on a little
reflection, I have concluded that he obtained much of
his knowledge from the conversation of others. Much
more is gained by listening than by talking continually,
as many do as long at they can obtain a hearing. Among
other things which John related to me of his former life,
he mentioned his having a cow while in England-the
best cow, he said, he had ever known. Her cream would




96                MAKING BROOMS.
bear up a plate, and she produced three pounds of butter
a day. This seemed to be a marvelous story, but John
was in one of his most serious moods, and I, therefore,
could not question its truthfulness. In fact, I had so
imuch confidence in his integrity and sagacity, that had
he told me his cow's cream would hold up an iron wedge,
and her butter supply a whole neighborhood, I should
have considered it almost infidelity to doubt a word of
the assertion.
When autumn came with its golden harvests, it
brought to John and myself many parcels of fine broom
corn which we readily convertod into substantial brooms
and brushes, receiving as a recompense a portion of the
manufactured articles, or a stipulated sum of money, according to the option of our patrons. Our stores brought
the highest market price, and in a few months after commencing our labors, we manufactured and disposed of all
the corn that had been raised for us. When spring
opened we set out, according to arrangement, for Illinois,
and arrived at our destination in time to encourage my
cousin and others to put in a good quantity of seed. We
also hired several acres of newly broken ground, and
planted it for ourselves. This kind of sward needs no
tilling for the first crop, except to chop in the seed, and
this John and I could do nearly as well as others, his
sight being sufficient to enable him to follow the furrows,
while I could be guided by the sound of his movements.
So, arming ourselves each with an axe and a pocket of
seed, we commenced our task, and pursued it diligently
until it was done, being assured, meanwhile, that if the
rows were crooked, they would be longer than straight
ones, and consequently would yield more corn!
When planting was over, John, being able to perform
some kinds of farm work to advantage, hired to my cousin




MAKING BROOMS.               97
until our crop should come in, while I busied myself
with listening to reading, and visiting my friends and
neighbors. In this way we passed the time pleasantly
until our corn was ready to harvest, when we went to
work with all the help we could command, which was
barely sufficient for the purpose, to gather it in. The
crop, however, was very well secured, considering the circumstances, and as soon as it was cured and prepared for
use by ridding it of its seed, we began to manufacture it
with a zeal fully commensurate with our ability, which,
so far as John was concerned, was not inconsiderable. I
mention the fact of my incompetency because it was a
great discomfort to me. My lack of strength, of practice
apd of ingenuity gave me a continual sense of my inferiority, though John never uttered a word of complaint.
On1 the other hand, he took everything patiently, and
sent me out to sell the brooms, to purchase the twine and
handles and do similar work, which he seemed to think
me better qualified for than himself.
How long I might have continued in this employment
had it been conducive to my health, I cannot tell-probably for a life-time, however; for it was yielding me a fair
income, and I was much delighted with the prospect of
having a steady home-but I was finally forced to the
conclusion that the broom-corn dust was injuring me, and
would eventually undermine my health.' I should, notwithstanding this, have continued longer at the business,
had it not been for a fancy I had taken for public speaking; and, knowing that I was not qualified for this pursuit, and could not obtain the required advantages while
staying in the country, I was obliged to give up entirely
my interest in the broom trade, in order to carry out my
plans. This arrangement was not wholly original with
me; it had been suggested by my friends that I was capa



98               AFTER KNOWLEDGE.
ble of preaching the Gospel, and ought to improve my
gift. As for myself, I was not inclined to this view; for,
although I was deeply interested in the cause of Christianity, I could not bear to bring upon myself the responsibility which this calling would incur, but was satisfied
with the idea of lecturing upon such popular subjects as
I could make available. Accordingly, after spending the
winter and a portion of the following spring as agreeably
as the circumstances could possibly admit, I settled up
my affairs with John and my relatives, and set out with
the hope of finding some institution of learning where I
could obtain reading from the students and could listen
to their recitations and other exercises.
My first stopping place was at Chicago, where I obtained a guide who conducted me to the Theological Seminary of that city. On reaching our destination, I presented to the faculty of the institution a letter of recommendation from a minister of their acquaintance. After
reading the letter and listening attentively to my story,
they told me kindly that they did not see how I could be
benefitted by coming among them; one of their number
remarking at the same time, that " if he were blind, he
should cease all efforts in his own behalf; for it was evident that a blind person could do nothing to advantage."
They did not, however, banish all hope from my mind;
but promised to do all they could if I should, after more
reflection, conclude to return. Thanking them for their
kindness I bade them adieu with an inward determination not to visit them again, but to seek my fortune elsewhere.
I had come to Chicago under the impression that
my letter of introduction would gain for me all the privileges of the Seminary that I could appropriate; and the
disappointment bore down more heavily, because I had




AFTER KNOWLEDGE.               99
no passport to another institution, except what I might
say in my own behalf. But I had severed entirely my
business relations with John and my cousin, and there
was nothing left me now but to follow this glimmer of
hope, until it should lead me to a brighter sphere, or
should dissipate itself in the gloom which hovered
around. Soon after leaving Chicago I learned that there
was a college of high repute at Hillsdale, Michigan, and
thither I bent my steps, or rather "groped my way;" for
it must be acknowledged that a blind man, traveling
among strangers, cannot discern his path very clearly nor
very far in advance of him. Although my progress was
slow, I went directly to an " open sesame," as though I
had possessed the best of sight, and was afterward convinced that my disappointment at Chicago, like many
others I have suffered, was all for the best.
Immediately after my arrival at Hillsdale I found a
fine old German gentleman, to whose family I had been
conducted, who took me to his house to stay with him
over the Sabbath; and this favor he repeated as often as
he could find the opportunity during the whole of my
stay in this place. On the first of the following week
I called upon Dr. Fairfield, the President of the college,
who received me kindly and informed me that I was welcome to all the instruction I could obtain. IIe also took
pains to introduce me to the senior professor and other
members of the faculty, and did all in his power to make
me feel at home in my new situation. The President,
like most of our great men, had risen to his position
mainly through his own efforts, and was, therefore, well
prepared to sympathize with those who were endeavoring
to help themselves. He had also been among the first
and most prominent in founding the institution, and,
consequently, had a right to place me under its patronage.




100              HILLSDALE COLLEGE.
It has sometimes been inferred, from what has been
said concerning my course at Hillsdale, that this is a
school for the blind; but this is not the case. I am the
only one of my class who has been a student there (1872),
and I was to gain my information by having the students
read their lessons to me, and by listening to recitations
and oral exercises.
As some account of Hillsdale College may be of interest to those who wish to educate themselves in one of
the first institutions of our land, I will here insert an article which has been clipped from a recent number of
the Michigan Land Journal:
"Hillsdale, the seat of Hillsdale College, is a flourishing city in Southern Michigan. By means of the Lake
Shore & Michigan Southern, and the Detroit, Hillsdale &
Indiana Railroads, which pass through it, communication is had with all parts of the country. By these routes
it is distant one hundred and eighty miles east of Chicago,
sixty west of Toledo, and eighty southwest of Detroit.
"The College building is a fine structure two hundred and sixty-two feet in length, and four stories high
exclusive of the basement. The grounds surrounding it
are ample and well laid out. It is sufficiently near to the
business part of the city to accommodate students in all
matters which may legitimately call them there, and yet
is so far removed as to secure that quiet which is essential to the successful prosecution of study.
" Chartered February 9th, 1855, it was opened for the
admission of students November 7th of the same year.
Since that time it has sent out 220 graduates and had in
attendance about 3,500 under-graduates.  It has three
regular courses of study, Classical, Scientific and Ladies',
besides Theological, Commercial, Music and Art Departments.




HILLSDALE COLLEGE.             101
"According to the last catalogue, the Seniors in the
several departments number 30; Juniors, 44; Sophomores, 50; Freshmen, 81; Classical Preparatory, 28; General Preparatory, 224; other departments, 201; making a
total for the year's attendance of 658, representing sixteen States, the District of Columbia and the Canadas.
The graduates at the last commencement numbered 29.
" The institution is under the control of 35 Trustees,
two-thirds of whom are required by the constitution to
be members of the Frewill Baptist denomination. All
prudential matters are entrusted to a committee of nine
local members, except during annual and special meetings of the Board of Trustees.
" The College has from the first been open to all without distinction of sex or color. There are five well-sustained Literary Societies, three among the gentlemen and
two among the ladies. They contribute much to the culture of their members, and afford many instructive and
interesting occasions for others. Five beautiful and wellfurnished halls are under their control, some of them
containing large libraries and fine collections of natural
history.
"All students have free use of the College Library,
which contains more than 3,000 volumes. The expenses
are always low, the cost of instruction not exceeding $5
per annum, except in the Commercial, Art and Music departments.
" To all members of the graduating class of the Classical department, the Trustees grant diplomas cbnferring
the degree of Bachelor of Arts, and to those of the Scientific department and Ladies' course the degree of Bachelor
of Science.
"The Faculty of Instruction is composed of thirteen
members, as follows:




102             HILLSDALE COLLEGE.
"Rev. Daniel M. Graham, D. D., President.
"Rev. Ransom Dunn, A. M., Professor of Biblical
Theology.
" Rev. Spencer J. Fowler, A. M, Professor of Mathematics and Natural Philosophy.
"George McMillan, A. M., Professor of Greek and
Latin Languages.
"Hiram Collier, A. M., Professor of Natural Science.
"F. Wayland Dunn, A. M., Professor of Rhetoric and
Belles Lettres.
"Miss H. Laura Rowe, A. M., Principal of Ladies'
Department.
"A. C. Rideout, Principal Commercial Department
and Professor of Commercial Law.
" W. A. Drake, Assistant Principal and Instructor in
Commercial Arithmetic and Penmanship.
"George B. Gardner, Instructor in Painting and
Drawing.
" M. W. Chase, Instructor in Instrumental and Vocal
Music.
" Mrs. Olive C. Chase, Instructor in Culture of the
Voice.
" Miss Jennie de la Montagnie, Teacher of French.
" L. P. Reynolds, Secretary and Treasurer.
" Hillsdale College occupies the honorable position
of being next in point of numbers and thoroughness of
instruction to the State University, and at present and
prospectively gives promise of a grand position in the
future."
After I had become acquainted with the students,
and they had learned my object in coming, I found no
difficulty in obtaining all the reading I needed, and their
interest in my welfare was more apparent when I began
to take an active part in the recitations. I also found




HILLSDALE COLLEGE.            103
much enjoyment and profit in attending the literary societies of the college. Two of these, the Theological and
Amphyction, invited me to join them, which I did, although it was not without a struggle that I made up my
mind toappear before a college audience. One of these
societies held its first anniversary after my initiation, and
I was chosen as one of the speakers for the occasion. My
exercise was entitled " A Sermon on Tobacco," which, for
the sake of variety, I will introduce here, being indebted
for its preservation to a health journal, which published
it a few days after this event:
TEXT.-"Tobacco is an evil weed," &c.
In discussing the subject of tobacco, we do not labor
under the embarrassment which generally accompanies
the reproval of other abnormal habits; for the devotees of
this giant evil seldom advocate its claims, but, on the
other hand, strongly denounce the system as being injurious in its very nature, admonishing those around
them to beware of the course they themselves have so unwittingly followed. True, at times, when chided by those
as deeply enthralled as themselves, they will, by a keen
retort, silence their accusers. A circumstance of this kind
took place not long since in one of our Western States.
A tobacco user on being reproved by an inveterate tea
drinker, asked in return why she did not give up her tea.
The lady replied that the water in that vicinity was so
impure that it needed tea to render it palatable. " Very
well," said he, "your case is similar to mine, for the atmosphere of this country is so impure that it must be
cleansed by tobacco smoke before it is fit for respiration."
Of course we do not deem this practice ithe crying
sin of the age, but only one of the many forms of intemperance which degrade humanity and demand a warning
voice from every philanthropic member of society. Our




104              SERMON ON TOBACCO.
text is not contained verbatim in the Holy Scriptures, for
when they were written, the evil did not exist; but if it
be an evil, it is all the more important that its character
should be exhibited, and its effects made known to all
whom it may concern. Our subject is embodied in the
following stanza:
"Tobacco is an evil weed,
And from the Devil did proceed;
It picks the pockets, burns the clothes,
And makes a chimney of the nose."
And, first, " It is an evil weed."
It is classified with hen bane, thorn apple, deadly
nightshade, and other poisonous weeds; being three times
more potent than opium in the same form. One drop of
the distilled oil, placed on the tongue of the stoutest dog,
produces instant death. The cat, which is said to have
nine lives, yields them up in less than three minutes after
the application of the second drop. An eminent writer
declares that if a man were to dip both of his hands into
this oil, with a skillful surgeon by his side, they could
not be amputated in time to save his life. As an article
of food it sustains but two species of the animal kingdom: the loathsome tobacco worm, at the sight of which
humanity recoils with disgust, and the rock goat of
Africa, whose stench is so insufferable that no other animal can approach it. Man and other animals which
esteem it a luxury, have learned to do so at the expense
of nausea and nervous prostration, or received the appetite from  intemperate predecessors.  If, as has been
claimed, it has medicinal properties, it should be applied
like other remedies, and its use abandoned when the result is attained; but if the cure is not speedily performed
it should be condemned as other noxious quackeries.
Second, "And from the Devil did proceed."




SERMON ON TOBACCO.             105
It has ever been the object of him who introduced
sin into the world, and thereby hurled the firebrand of
destruction into the bosom of the human family, to
deteriorate the physical and moral condition of those
subjected to his influence.  This work is successfully
accomplished by the agency of tobacco.
It deranges the physical system. Nature, as an
auxiliary in the work of alimentation, has prepared three
sets of glands which moisten the mouth, assist the taste,
and further aid in the work of digestion. When anything is taken into the mouth, these glands pour forth a
copious supply of their fluids till the substance is removed,
or their resources are exhausted. The use of tobacco not
only robs alimentation of this essential assistant, but its
waste renders the membrane so febrile that stimulating
beverages seem requisite to supply the deficiency. Thus,
other passions are aroused, which it requires continued
efforts to restrain. The work of the Christian is to overcome and hold in subjection the propensities of our ani.
mal nature; hence, whatever tends to strengthen them at
the expense of the moral powers, is so far a sin. The legitimate use of all our appetites and passions is not only
in strict accordance with divine will, but essential to our
well being and happiness. But every violation of the
physical law is an aggression upon the moral domain,
and effects a corresponding influence upon the spiritual
character of the transgressors. Hence the command,
" Be ye temperate in all things," and, to your knowledge
add temperance. In reference to this matter, says Dr.
Clarke: "Were I to present a sacrifice to the Devil, I
would stuff a pig with tobacco, and lay it upon the
altar."
Third, "It picks the pockets, burns the clothes."
It is claimed that the victimized subjects of tobacco
8




106             SERMON ON TOBACCO.
are a fine, generous set of people, willing to divide the
last quid with a suffering friend. We admit this to be
true, and our love for them prompts us to make an effort
to convert them from the error of their ways; and when
we take a pecuniary view of the matter, and estimate the
enormous sum- of money expended in a worse than useless cause, their benevolence, we trust, will lead them to
appropriate their means in another direction. In this
country alone, the annual expenditure is not less than
forty millions of dollars. One-fifth of the amount is
spent by church-going people. Consider for a moment
the blessing their means would be to the world. Think
of the improvement that could be made in our canals,
our harbors, our railroads, and other public works. How
the poor might be relieved, the gospel dispensed, and the
happy change of circumstances which would result. And
all this without taking into account the filthiness of the
habit, and its consequent destruction of clothing, furniture and other property.
God is able to convert the world by miradle, or to
send money from Heaven for its accomplishment, but he
has committed the charge to men and angels. Suppose
one of the angelic beings should visit the earth with a
proclamation, and you should discover in his mouth an
immense quid of tobacco, and see him pour forth a deluge of the golden juice upon everything which came in
his way. You would declare at once that he was an emissary from his satanic majesty, and had better save his
effusions to moisten the atmosphere in his own habitation.
Fourth, "And makes a chimney of the nose."
The all wise and benevolent Author of the Universe
has made nothing in vain, but in every department of
creation we behold blended in harmonious perfection,




SERMON ON TOBACCO.             107
beauty and adaptation of purpose. In no organ do we
find these qualities more rarely displayed than in the
human nose. Standing in conspicuous relationship to
the other features, it not only gives expression to the
countenance, but with its keen perceptions admonishes
its possessor against the encroachment of injurious odors.
But the use of tobacco perverts its function, and destroys
its relish for the perfumes of nature, and this abuse without the shadow of a reason. Addressing a venerable snuffer, we said, "Had nature designed this indulgence, your
nose would have been inverted." She mildly answered:
"The pinch of snuff hath magic power
To soften many a gloomy hour;
For though the world may use me rough,
I'll smile, and take my pinch of snuff."
This kind of pleasure is too dearly bought, for
every gratification at the expense of nature's laws is followed by suffering correspondingly great.
Then if the use of tobacco is inimical to our physical, moral and spiritual well-being, if it is a needless expenditure of means which should be otherwise appropriated, and creates necessities before unknown, why not
abandon it at once? Why persist in a course detrimental
to our own happiness and that of others? And, oh! if it
be ours when done with the toils of earth, to soar away
to the mansions of the blest, could we, if permitted, unblushingly mar the beauties of the place with effusions
of the weed?    Or, think you angelic beings with
golden spittoons will be detailed to transport the rich
production to some stygian pool without the city? Depend upon it, no such provision will be made. Every intemperate habit must be overcome ere we can stand without spot or wrinkle before the judgment seat of the Omniscient.




108            LAST DAYS IN COLLEGE.
Christian brethren; upon you devolves the duty of
reproving iniquity wherever it may be found; and as you
go forth exposing the moral condition of the people, remember, the physical equally claims your attention. In
fine, follow the example of the apostle. Reason to them
of righteousness, temperance and judgment to come.
When I had been in the college about two years, I
was informed by my classmates, that they wished me to
finish the course with them; and soon afterward President Fairfield told me that if I would study vigorously
through the following year, he would, at the end of that
period, graduate me, if the other members of the faculty
were agreed in the matter. This I accordingly did, and at
the time specified (June, 1868,) received the degree of Bachelor of Science, the President remarking on the occasion,
that "although my diploma was partly honorary, in consequence of there being some branches which I could not
pursue to advantage, if they (the public) knew of my
standing, they would not think that it was unworthily,bestowed." Thus ended my student life at Hillsdale, but
not my stay in that place, for I have since spent many
happy hours in and about the college, and have still the
satisfaction of knowing that I shall be welcome there
whenever I choose to return.




CHAPTER VII.
CONCLUSION.
Having sketched a few of the principal incidents of
my life, and described briefly two institutions of learning
from which I have obtained a portion of the little knowledge I possess, I will ask you, my friends, to tarry but a
little longer while I shall say a few words concerning my
vocation. I might with propriety dispense with this
were it not for the consideration that some will be at a
loss to know whether I have made any application of the
advantages I have received, or whether the labors of my
instructors have been entirely misplaced.
It is probable that most of those who are acquainted
with my history will be disappointed in not finding in
their memoirs some items which they judge worthy of
insertion. But permit me to say, by way of apology,
that I have written hastily and have determined to avoid,
if possible, the opprobrium of wearying my readers with
unnecessary details; in fact, whenever I attempt to write
I am reminded of that time-honored maxim, " Brevity is
the soul of wit," and this is often enforced by the
recollection of a similar passage from the pen of an
American critic, who declares that the preacher who
cannot " strike ile " in twenty minutes must be using the
wrong tool or boring in the wrong place. Still, on reflection, I think I might have been a little more explicit
without serious injury to anyone, and most readers would
have been better pleased thereby. For instance, when I
recorded a narrow escape from drowning, I could have
mentioned in that connection several similar escapes from




110                 CONCLLUSION.
an untimely end, which seemed equally providential.
Again, I have spoken of the kindness of President Fairfield, and I will here add, for it is not too late to acknowledge this debt of gratitude, that his example was well
followed by the people of the college and others whose
acquaintance I made during my stay. My tuition, my
room rent, and even my diploma were given me gratuitously, the treasurer replying to my urgent request that
he should accept remuneration, that he would sooner pay
the indebtedness himself than have it said that the college charged me for anything I received.  Whenever I
wished to go anywhere there was some one ready to accompany me until I was sufficiently acquainted with the
premises and the neighboring streets to go readily by myself. I also received many presents while there. The
donors knowing that I felt delicate about receiving assistance, would contrive to present their gifts in a manner
which would have been acceptable to the most fastidious.
Once more-for now that I am nearing the end of my
story I am getting somewhat over my hurry; in fact, I
am beginning to learn that there is not much good accomplished by doing things in haste. How often it happens that we start for the railroad depot with our satchels
half packed and arrive there in a state of perspiration to
find that we are many minutes in advance of the time,
and the train is as many minutes behind. Then, too, we
frequently hurry off to church and have for our pains the
pleasure of waiting until we are weary for the service to
commence.   The first of these evils we cannot well
avoid; for sometimes we shall find that our watches
agree with the railroad chronometers and the train will
be sometimes on time. But for the other, I'have adopted
a plan which works to a charm-I go to church fifteen
minutes late. But what I was going to say was simply a




CONCLUSION.                I11
few words in regard to my health. Perhaps you will
think that I have said enough about this matter already;
and so I have if my intention is to keep up the dismal
strain I have been harping on in the preceding pages. I
am aware of the fact that it is not in good taste to be constantly parading our ills before others. Those who practice this, as many do for the sake of obtaining the sympathy of their weary listeners, ought to know that they
are more likely to excite their disgust. If good can be
accomplished or relief can be obtained in this way, it is
all right; otherwise it is selfish and unbecoming.
As sickness was partly the occasion of my loss of
sight, and as I was obliged for the same reason to change
my employment, I thought it necessary to allude to it by
way of explanation, and now, as my health is greatly improved, so much so that I live entirely free from pain
and am as vigorous as my in-door life will allow, I wish
to say a few words in regard to the means adopted for
my recovery, that others may be benefitted thereby. And
first, let me remark that this better state of things was not
brought about by the use of patent nostrums nor similar
specifics; for during many years of my sickness I took
medicine enough to kill a horse or any other animal unless it be a donkey, (I make this exception, not knowing
but that there is an analogy in our nature arId, consequently, a similarity of endurance), and grew no better
until I had abandoned these and begun to study and
practice rules of health.  I have noticed that whatever
else the skillful physician prescribes, he always insists
that his patients shall adopt a strict regimen of diet and
pay particular attention to ventilation, cleanliness, rest,
exercise, etc. In fact some of the most prominent in this
profession have declared that drugs cannot benefit mankind in any way. But notwithstanding these principles




112                 CONCLUSION.
are constantly advocated by honest physicians and others,
it is difficult to make people believe that their habits of life
have anything to do with their condition of health, and
when obliged by sickness to desist from their unphysiological course until they have become well again, they
always attribute their recovery to some panacea they
have taken or to the miraculous interposition of Divine
Providence. Now I do not intend to disparage in any
way the power and goodness of Divine Providence nor
His special love for our race; for certainly the Great
Being who created us can, if He chooses, restore us when
we are sick or keep us in permanent youth and vigor;
and if the tiny sparrows are subjects of His zealous care,
how much more so are we who are made after His own
image and for whom He sacrificed His only begotten Son.
But notwithstanding this, it is evident from what we have
learned from His dealings with mankind that He does
not, as a general thing, manifest His miraculous power in
the preservation of life and health. This, I think, is farther manifested from His command to preserve our own
lives and the lives of others, and His denunciations
against the suicide and the murderer, declaring that He
will destroy him who destroys his own body which He
designates as a temple of the Holy Spirit, and threatening
to bar from the Kingdom of Heaven the one who shall
take the life of another. In fact God is not only a creator,
but a ruler as well. The rolling spheres, as they traverse
with unvarying precision the endless cycles which He
has assigned them, proclaim Him Lord of all; and the
smallest atom that is borne upon the wings of the evening zephyr bears equal testimony to His sovereign sway.
All animated nature likewise acknowledges the same allegiance to His supreme will. Every variety of its pro.
duction lives, grows, decays and dies in strict accordance




CONCLUSION.                 113
with the laws of its organism. And having established
these laws of nature it is, of course, essential to His
honor that they meet the ends for which they were designed. And, in order to effect this purpose, He has
established rewards and punishments as a consequence of
their obedience or their transgression. These laws being
adapted in their nature to the peculiarities of their subject, their consequences are also varied and peculiar in
their operation; for instance, a ship floats because her
hull displaces an amount of matter equal to her weight;
and so long.as this law of gravitation is observed, she will
ride in safety, although her passengers and crew be pirates and debauchees. If, on the other hand, in consequence of bad management, this physical law be broken
so that the vessel fill with water, it will go to the bottom,
even if all on board be missionaries and temperance people.
So in the organic sphere, if a man is born of healthy parents and he himself lives in accordance with the laws of
his.being, he will enjoy health and long life. While, on
the other hand, if he or his parents violate these laws, he
will suffer the consequences, which are disease and untimely death, and this without special reference to moral
or spiritual character.
From these considerations it is evident that our
health depends mainly upon our own voluntary action
with reference to the laws of our being; and, as many of
our habits of life are founded in ignorance of these laws,
they are more likely to be in opposition to them than
otherwise. Proceeding on this hypothesis I have studied
the writings of those who have devoted their attention to
this subject, and adopted such of their suggestions as I
deemed practical and consistent.  Among the works
which I have read on this subject, those of Saxe, of
Combe, and of Lewis, I think, contain the most reliable




114                 CONCLUSION.
information.  I would also recommend a periodical
which is now being published at Battle Creek, Michigan,
entitled the Health Reformer.
As a result of my improved condition of health I
enjoy a much happier state of mind; in fact, I am,
at times, almost as cheerful as when in possession of
sight, though it is evident from my general demeanor and
expression that my sorrows have traced themselves so
deeply upon me that they cannot be entirely obliterated.
Still I am learning daily to bear my misfortune with more
fortitude and submission; for I think I discover that in
this, as well as in most other afflictions, there is comparative recompense.  For instance, the tender care bestowed upon me by my friends whenever I am with them,
and the interest manifested for my welfare by strangers
wherever I go, have had a tendency to develop my better
nature and make me more charitable toward others.
Then, too, my many narrow escapes from imminent danger while traveling by myself have caused me to feel
more deeply my dependence upon the guiding hand of
the Supreme, and given me a more exalted sense of his
loving kindness and special care for those who cannot
care for themselves, inducing, thereby, a spirit of devotion
and trust. Others, too, have been benefitted indirectly by
my affliction, as they often declare that my cheerfulness under my great affliction is a reproof to them whenever they
are inclined to complain of their trifling mishaps. Another source of happiness is derived from my occupation;
for now that I am able, through the patronage of a sympathizing public, to sustain myself honorably in society (a
matter which must be gratifying to any who possess in the
slightest degree the noble spirit of self-maintenance), I am
much more reconciled to my condition than I could possibly be were I a subject of charity or even in the posses



CONCLUSION.                115
sion of wealth with no means of employing my time to
advantage.
And this reminds me of my promise to speak of my
vocation, which I will proceed at once to do with as
much brevity as the circumstances will admit. My motive in going to Hillsdale, as before stated, was to fit myself for the lecture field, and, to accomplish this purpose,
I devoted my attention principally to those branches
which would assist me in this direction, either as disciplinary or as themes for discourse. Among the latter I
selected the science of Physiology as being the most
available at that time, and finally arranged two lectures
on that subject which I delivered, occasionally, in the vicinity of Hillsdale during the remainder of my stay.
Since leaving the college I have spoken on the following
topics: What a Blind Man Saw in College, How the Blind
See, What a Blind Man Saw Among the Stars, and Temperance. The last of these, though somewhat trite, is acceptable in most places, and I am inclined to make it my
favorite theme, as I think much good can be accomplished thereby, especially in restraining the youth from
becoming dissipated in their daily habits.
Through the assistance of the college people and other influential friends, I have lectured with good success
in many of the cities and villages of the Northwest, and
also in northern New York, the best churches in these
places opening their doors freely for this purpose and
taking for my benefit a contribution or an admittance fee.
Several railroad companies have also assisted me in my
labors by granting me a free pass over their roads, and
newspaper editors have advertised me free of charge, repeating their favor whenever I visited their localities.
Although I have been well received by the intelligent and sympathetic wherever I have been, yet I am




116                  CONCLUSION.
aware of the fact that eye-sight is essential to the highest
success in oratory. It needs the eye as well as the voice
to rivet the attention and thrill the soul of him who listens. Still the deep sympathy created in the minds of
the audience for one who has lost his vision compensates,
in a great measure, for the embarrassment it occasions.
And if the blind speaker is convinced that his efforts are
appreciated, there is no reason why he should not persevere and do all in his power to benefit those who come
within his sphere of action.
But the time has come for me to finish my story, and
as I have dictated this sketch without any expectation of
distinguishing myself for beauty of style or profundity
of thought, I shall not attempt to startle any one in the
conclusion, but will say to you, my friends, as I have
often said when parting from your generous firesides,
Good-bye! It may be we shall meet again.




0
M
Li








POEMS.
THE RECONCILIATION.
-By her little cottage door,'Neath a shady maple tree,
Sat a woman blind and poor,
Pondering o'er her destiny.
Thinking of the wondrous change,
Which the hand of Time had wrought;
Placing her beyond the range
Of the blessings light had brought.
Sad she seems, and pale, and worn;
And around her furrowed brow,
Where once clustered raven curls,
Silver tresses glisten now.
And her form, so stiff and bent,
Once was firn, erect and strong;
And her voice, now dissonant,
Then rang out in merry song.
Now, the heart oppressed with care,
Bleeding, comfortless and rent,
~Once was free as mountain airSaw no cause for discontent.




120             TIE RECONCILIATION.
Where once played the merry feet
Of the children she had borne,
Silence reigned, or others came;
Now their absence she must mourn.
And the husband of her youth,
In whose love she hoped to dwell,
Long ago.had left her side,
Driven to a maniac's cell.
Oh the bitterness and hate
That within her bosom dwelt,
Toward the God who gave her birth,
And for'her no pity felt!
Leaving her in darkness there,
Deep and hopeless as the tomb,
Closing every avenue
Where the light of hope could come.
Just as if she were a thing
HIe had made, and needed not,,
To upbuild creation with,
And had flung aside, forgot.
Thus she sat, from day to day,
Now in madness, now in grief;
Dark, bewildered, and alone,
Dreaming never of relief.
When there broke upon her soul
Light celestial from above,
Chasing darkness far away,
Filling it with beams of love.




THE RECONCILIATION.            121
Then a voice of heav'nly tone,
Whispered softly in her ear:
"Those who put their trust in God,
Have no need or cause for fear.
" le who tempers to shorn lambs
All the cold and wintry blasts,
Feels for those His image bear,
And protection round them casts;
" And, according to thy need,
Shall thy strength and wisdom be;
And if faithful to the end,
Thou at last shall reign with me.
And within that blissful place
Where shall dwell no woe nor pain,
Thou shalt have thy sight restored,
And, behold thy friends again.
"And the glories of that sphere
Shall the brighter seem to thee,
For the darkness thou hast seen,
And thy untold misery.
"Little dost thou know, my child,
What thy future might have been,
Had thy path been strewn with flowers.
With no thorns to intervene.
"Others, too, by seeing thee
Humbled'neath this chastisement,
Will appreciate their lot,
And be free from discontent."
9




122                TO COUSIN MARY.
Then the vision passed away;
But before it took its flight,
There were planted in her heart
Fountains of pure love and light.
Still she lives, but not to mourn
O'er her trials, though severe,
But rejoices in the hope
That her promised rest is near.
TO COUSIN MARY.
Mary, my thoughts are with thee still,
Where'er thou mayest be;
Thou art, as thy name signifies,
A star above the sea.
A star like that which God has set
Within the northern skies,
That guides the mariner's frail bark,
The bondsman when he flies.
And so with me while on life's sea,
Mid storms and tempests' roar,
And threat'ning billows dashing high
Against the rock-bound shore.
I'll trust in thee, my dearest friendThou art my guiding star;
No other can eclipse thy light,
No cloud thy beauty mar.




TO COUSIN MARY.               123
TIHE SEQUEL.
My star has set; its trembling rays
No more illume my lonely path;
Ah, tell me, Thou who reignest above,
Why was it subject to thy wrath?
Why was a thing that Thou hast made
So pure and beautiful and just,
Struck from its firmament of love,
And, reeling, sent to crumbling dust?
A whispering answer from the skies
Comes like a zephyr o'er the sea;
To cool my brow and aching breast,
And fill my soul with ecstasy.
It says, " Thy star is set,'tis true,
And hid within the cold damp earth,
But in that realm beyond the grave,'Twill rise to an immortal birth.
"The hand that set it in the sky
Shall make it brighter than before,
And sin's dark clouds or earth's thick storms
Can hide its beauties nevermore."
"It is enough, my Lord," I cried;
" Only this boon I ask for me:
That Thou wilt, when my course is run,
Take me to share its joys with Thee."




124                LINES TO R.
LINES TO R.
Sister, though around thy brow
Twines no laurel of renown,
Yet in Heaven, even now,
Waits for thee a golden crownCrown bedecked with many a gem
Richer than Golconda's store;
He who wears such diademr
Can no lack of wealth deplore.
Though at times thy way is hard,
And thy pillow wet with tears,
Yet like thee the Savior fared-rHad, like thee, His doubts and fears;
Saw at times the world's cold sneer,
Felt stern persecution's sting,
Knew too well that in this sphere
All was false and withering.
Yet He overcame the world,
Cpnquered every fleshly lust,
All His foes to ruin hurled,
And ascended to the Just.
And He promises to you,
That He never will forsake,
But will guide you safely through,
Till the promised rest you take.
Then take courage, sister, rise!
Lift thy soul above all care;
Place thy hopes beyond the skies,
Keep them firm by faith and prayer.




THE KILKENNY LEGEND.           125
THE KILKENNY LEGEND.
Have you heard of the cats of Kilkenny?'Tis a wonderful story, indeed,
How two cats, old Dick and old Tommy,
Were devoured by each at one feed.'Tis said that a man of Kilkenny
Heard a yawling outside his abode;
And he looked toward the place where he heard it,
And saw a great dust in the road.
When the dust in the road had blown over,
And a stop had been put to the wails,
The two cats were " ate up " entirely,
excepting a bit of their tails.
Now I think that these cats of Kilkenny
Could not have performed such a task,
My reasons for doubting are many;
One or two I will give if you ask.
Now, distrust against long-cherished notions,
I am never inclined to be brewing;
But you know'tis an unwise presumption,
That a cat can devour without chewing;
Which must be the case with Kilkenny,
The way that the story's proposed;
For before either cat could be swallowed.
The jaws must be broken or closed.
Our argument was to convince you,
Though I'm certain my first would avail,
A cat that could eat up another,
Would not stop for a bit of the tail.




126              CONFESSION HYMN.
But, although this Kilkenny story
Is not true, as a matter of fact,
The case is quite common, however,
For parties of men thus to act.
For instance, two men have a quarrel,
And endeavor to settle by law;
They will work at each other in trial
Till they fall into poverty's maw.
Two women, who live near each other,
Will often get into a brawl,
And fight with the weapons of slander
Till others are roused by their yawl.
When their words of abuse are all over,
And the neighborhood cleared of the spat,
They are found in the maw of dishonor
Sunk as low as a Kilkenny cat.
And generally, when there is a conflict,
Both parties of reason are cleft,
And worse than the cats of Kilkenny,
1ight on till there's not a bit left.
CONFESSION HYMN. (s. M.)
I've been a wayward child,
I've suffered sorrow's pain,
Through sin's dark valleys, drear and wild,
My weary way has lain.




CONTENTMENT.               127
My wrongs I now deplore;
The Savior's grace I've sought;
He bade me go and sin no more;
His blood my ransom bought.
There's one thing left to do,
That I may happy live;
I must unto my brethren go,
And ask them to forgive.
Perhaps they'll be severe,
And, in their righteous zeal,
Will turn from me a listening ear,
Till I more deeply feel.
It may be, after all,
When I to them shall go,
They'll think how apt they are to fall,
And pity for me show.
At least,'twill do no harm
To give them such a chance;
It may their prejudice disarm,
And my own joys enhance.
CONTENTMENT.
In that fair land beyond the sea,
Where Ishmael's children roam at will,
There dwelt within a Moslem tower,
An Emir, famed for lore and skill.




128                CONTENTMENT.
And often to his palace-home,
Where wealth had all its splendor wrought,
The wise from other climes would come,
To do him homage and be taught.
He made no boast of magic art,
But gave to Allah all the praise,
And daily prayed that He'd impart
New strength to walk in wisdom's ways.
One day there came within the court,
A man who seemed quite ill at ease;
He wished to know what he should do,
To rid himself of his disease.
He did not ask increase of store;
His health was good, his friends were kind;
The prophet promised all he cravedHe wanted a contented mind.
"Go," said the Emir, " find a man
Who has this noble gift of mind,
And buy an under-robe of him,
If to such traffic he's inclined."
The nabob thanked him for the word,Then calling up his fav'rite gray,
He bade adieu to those he loved,
And soon was speeding on his way.
But search was vain, no matter where,
Through quiet lane or crowded street,All said a thing that was so rare,
He never could expect to meet.




TO MY SINGER.               129
At last he heard-oh! joyful news!Where dwelt the man he longed to see;
He lived contented, it was said,
Although he was of low degree.
"Allah be praised," the nabob said,
As to his course he quickly flew;
As flies the eagle when he sees
The prey he seeks recede from view.
Nor halted he, save to inquire,
Till he had reached the poor man's cot,
And made his errand known to him,
Which, strange to say, he granted not.
" Oh, give me this!" the nabob cried,
" Here, take this gold,'tis sordid pelf!"
" I would, by Allah," he replied,
" But I've no shirt to wear myself!"
TO MY SINGER.
I have listened, dear Lue, to thy rapturous song,
Of the beautiful isles far away o'er the sea,
And it cheers me to think that it will not be long
Ere those islands of beauty receive you and me.
And the rich mellow tones of thy voice made me think
Why it was that such power to a mortal was given;
But we're sure the Creator intended to link
By such charming attractions our earth to His heaven.




130                  TO JANE.
For we know beyond doubt that our blessings of peace.
Are directly bestowed from the Eden above,
And'tis equally plain that joys must increase
And become purer still near the fountain of love.
May thy future, fair maiden, be fraught with good deeds,
Cheering hearts that are lonely and dark with despair,
And the God who remembers the poor in his needs
Shall acknowledge and bless thee for service so rare.
TO JANE.
Dear Jane, your name has charms for me,'Tis sweeter far than any
Of those pet names that'girls assume,
As Peggie, Mollie, Jennie.
There's quite a fashion now abroad
In country and in city
Of changing off those good old names
For those that seem more pretty.
There's Cath'rine Jones, as large a girl
As I have ever seen;
She wants her name to Kittie changed,
And says the folks are mean,
Because they will not call her soShe hates that "Catharind;"'Twill do for widows and old maids,
Whose tastes are less refined.




TO WILL M. CARLETON.
I've sometimes thought that it would do,
If men were so inclined,
To try to work a slight reform
In matters of this kind;
So that the children might not look
Upon their name with dread,
And wish their parents wiser were,
Or they themselves were dead.
For instance, there is Peggy-AnnMaria-Antoinette,
And Ada-Ida-Rosa-Bell,
And step-and-fetch-it Bet.
But I must stop or some will say,
" Keep still about this matter
Of finding fault with other folks,
Your talk is only chatter.
"For if you'd children of your own
To educate and name,
They'd likely suffer greatly more
Than those of whom you blame."
TO WILL M. CARLETON.
Carleton, alone thou standest here,
No kindred spirit dwells with thee;
For thou hast left thy native sphere,
To wander, like the eagle, free,
And soared to realms before unsought
By those of weaker nerve and thought.




132           A MICHIGAN COURT SCENE.
He mounts, with pinions strong, to dare
The storm-king in. his fiercest wrath,
With eye that quails not in the glare
Of burning suns that cross his path,And thou, like him, with magic skill,
Canst wing those dizzy heights at will.
And sometimes, like the eagle, too,
When, sated with celestial bliss,
Ite leaves his sphere of azure blue,
To revel for a while in this,
Dost thou vouchsafe to bend thy wing
The words and acts of men to sing.
0, noble bard! whose matchless lyre
Thy compeers imitate in vain,
May God thy deepest thoughts inspire,
And sanctify thine every strain,
And to thy gifted mind impart
The graces of a Christian heart.
A MICHIGAN COURT SCENE.
in Michigan, some years ago,
When everything was new and strange,
When honest men were all the go,
And roughs were had, just for a change;
When doctors carried saddle-bags,
When preachers rode astride their nags,
When God would deign to meet His people
In a log church without a steeple;



A MICHIGAN COURT SCENE.         133.
When lawyers and judges both were few;
And, what may seem more strange to you,
They couldn't be bought for sums untold,
(Office would fail as well as gold);
A court scene took place which I will describe,
(Though in description I often fail),
Where the court was held at a private house,
And a log barn answered for a jail;
The presiding judge was a cross-eyed man,
As jolly and free as you wish to meet;
Though he looked as grave as a deacon's mule,
When he spoke to the culprit, near his feet.
"You have been condemned by the court," said her
" As being one of the meanest of men;
For you took from his home at dead of night,
The son of an old and respected hen.
"You are large enough to steal a sheep,
Or back a quarter of an ox,
But instead of that, you sneaked around
And carried away one of Jones' cocks.
"Now, for this crime, you may roost three days
On the highest beam of our county jail;
So be off at once without any words,
Your cackling and crowing will not avail."
They were taking him to his roosting place,
When a voice called out from amidst the crowd,
* "You have served him right, old gimlet-eyes,
And you are a judge of whom we are proud."




134               LINES TO FANNIE.
"Who dares to enter here," said the judge,
"And on our dignity intrude?"
"'Tis this old hoss," a voice replied,
"Though I didn't mean to be quite so rude."
"You didn't,hey! we'll attend to your case,
And teach you manners, the best we are able,
Here, Brown, return as soon as you can,
And lead this old hoss off to the stable."
LINES TO FANNIE.
We have met, dearest Fannie, some three times or more,
And, according to custom, we strangers should be;
But I think on reflection that were it three-score,
It would make little change in my friendship for thee.
There is much to observe, in the promise of mind,
That is worthy of notice and careful inspection;
For in searching creation all through you will find
No two persons alike in their mode of reflection.
Some are deep, dark and subtle; their channel of thought
Runs in labyrinths fearful and strangely abstruse,
Like the caverns and caves which old ocean has wrought,
Where the howling charybdis takes up its recluse.
Others seem.like the fountain of crystal that flows
From the midst of the throne where the sanctified
tread;
So transparent and bright do its waters appear,
That an angel might mirror himself in its bed.




TO MARTHA.                 135
And it seemed, gentle girl, as I sat by thy side,
That thy mind was as pure as that fountain of bliss;
And it would have been pleasure with thee to abide,
Had enjoyment alone been consulted in this.
TO MARTHA.
i' Martha, thou'rt cumbered with much care,
Thou takest life too hard."
Thus said the Master, while on earth,
And thus repeats thy bard.
The bards, or poets, as they're called,
Have struck with magic sound
Their lyre strings oft to others' names;
To thine no notes resound.
But thou art faulty in the way
Of having much to do;
Yet I prefer thee for my guide,
To those whose cares are few.
And though upon thy lofty brow
No coronet is placed,
No sparkling diamonds grace thy hands,
No jewels gird thy waist;
Yet what are these, and songs of praise,
To the real worth thou hast;
Honors and wealth shall pass away,
But thy good works shall last.




136                  BLINDNESS.
BLINDNESS.
Struck blind! oh, God! is it a crime
To wish that I had ne'er been born?
Or, being born to such a fate,
To ask of reason to be shorn?
Or, what is better far than this,
Or that which seems so, now, to me,
To pray Thee to receive my soul,
And set this troubled spirit free?
I've stood beneath affliction's rod,
And borne its lashings many a year,
Without a murmur of complaint,
So far as other men could hear.
But Thou, whose all-observing eye
Piercest my soul's dark resting place,
And seest the grief that lingers there
The joys of time can ne'er efface;
Whose ear has heard each secret sigh,
To Thee alone for help I look!
I tell thee, Maker, I must die,
My soul this darkness cannot brook.
SEQUEL.
0, Father of Eternal Love!
Thy grace deserves new praise each day
For thou dost all things for the best,
Regardless of what man may say;




BLINDNESS.                137
Else, when I murmured at my fate,
And cursed with each returning breath,
The precious life Thou gavest me,
Thou hadst not kept my soul from death.
When first this cloud of darkness came
And filled my soul with doubts and fears;
I saw no avenue to light,
No hope within the coming years;
And, thinking that all chance was gone
Of being useful in this sphere,
I deemed it better to depart,
Than be a helpless burden here;
But, since that time, my mind has changed
From sadness to a cheerful mood;
For I've been taught that there are none
So weak that they can do no good;
And if the mind be thus employed
From day to day in others' weal,
It will be strengthened by each task,
And soon its sorrows cease to feel.
Another lesson I have learned,
Which gives me much encouragement,
Is this: Wherever ills are found,
Some compensation, too, is sent.
And this ameliorative gift
In many ways effects the blind;
But best of all, it has the power
To warm and elevate the mind.
10




138        LINES ADDRESSED TO MY AUNT.
And now, 0 Lord, I ask of Thee,
If Thou art pleased to hear this prayer,
That Thou wilt sanctify my heart,
And keep a thankful spirit there;
And when the King of Glory comes,
And turns all darkness into light,
And takes His people to Himself,
Then bless me with immortal sight.
LINES ADDRESSED TO MY AUNT.
(BY HER REQUEST.)
My dearest aunt, would I could grant
The little boon you ask of me;
I'd sing a song, in numbers long,
And this is what my theme should be:
I would not sing of man's exploitsHis deeds of cruelty and shame;
His mad career in search of wealthHis love of power-his thirst for fame;
A nobler theme than these, I'd ask
Should thrill the lyre-strings of my heart,
I'd sing of woman's matchless loveHer tender care-her wondrous art.
I'd tell of all her woes and wrongsHow oft deceived-how sadly triedHer many struggles to be freeHer plans for good, by sin defied.




LINES ADDRESSED TO MY AUNT.        139
And when I'd sung of all these things,
That seem so wondrous strange to me,
I'd ask my muse to pause awhile,
That I might sing, my aunt, to thee;
I'd sing of when affliction's hand
Smote from my eyes the light of day;
And from my heart crushed every hope,
That lingered there to cheer the way.
Thou, like a spirit, heaven-born,
Freed from the Eden home above,
And hither sent by His command
(Whose doings are all fraught with love),
Came to my aid, and with a wand
That scattered darkness far away,
Pointed me upward to the sky,
Where reigns an everlasting day.
A day so fair that in its light
No mists can come, nor clouds arise
To cast a shadow on the soul,
Or dim the lustre of the skies.
O! Aunt, whate'er our lot may be
While we shall journey here below,
May this sweet hope inspire our hearts,
Above no sorrow can we know.
And in that bright, eternal realm,
Where none of sickness e'er complain,
The lame shall walk, the deaf shall hear,
The blind receive their sight again.




140             LINES TO MY COUSIN.
LINES TO MY COUSIN.
Matilda, from thy early youth,
Till now, some twenty years or more,
I've felt for thee a brother's love,
And brooded all thy sorrows o'er.
I saw the dawning of thy mind,
As to its course it slowly bent,
Like the fair moon, whose struggling beams
Comfort and cheer where'er they're sent.
And when, in childhood's happy hours,
You sported gaily round my knee,
I watched you with an inward pride,
Well pleased that you were fond of me.
And when, in after years, I'd roamed
O'er mountains wild and desert plain,
In my vain search for fame and wealth,
And homeward turned my steps again,
With naught to show for all I'd done
And suffered in those distant lands,
But pallid face and blinded eyes,
And trembling limbs and palsied hands,
I heard again thy welcome voice;
Again I felt thy warm embrace;
I knew by these, that thou wert true,
Although I could not see thy face.
Ah!'tis the soul, it is the soul
That sees, perceives, and understands;
It speaks its language in the eyes,
And in the voice, and through the hands.




LINES TO MY COUSIN.           141
The soul, whose value is so great
That He around whose jasper throne
Seraphs and angels meekly bow,
And all the spheres submission own,
Gave up the splendors of His court,
His majesty and high estate,
To wrest it from the spoiler's power,
His cunning snares and fiery hate,
Shall see the dawning of "that day
For which all other days have been,"
And hear the notes of jubilee
That free a ransomed world from sin;
And, seeing, hearing, feeling all
That God bestows with quickened power,
Like an imprisoned bird set free,
Shall wing its flight to Eden's bowers.
since that time I've stronger grown;
Health has returned, and sorrow fled;
For, though I'm blind, without a home,
And all the hopes of youth are dead,
I've learned to look, with eye of faith,
Beyond the clouds of earth's cold night,
To that bright realm for saints prepared,
Where all is joy, and love, and light.
And when a few more years have sped,
And we have reached that shining shore,
We'll sit us down beside that throne,
And talk our earthly trials o'er.




142                  TO ELLEN.
Then we shall see, as God now sees,
That all these things are for the best,
And every wintry wind that blows
But wafts us onward to our rest.
TO ELLEN.
Ellen, or, rather, Cousin Nell,
If all the muses should conspire
To cast o'er me their sweetest spell,
I'd strike for thee the magic lyre.
I would not say, in empty song,
That thou wert graceful, gay and fair;
To dwell on these would do thee wrong
When thou hast graces far more rare.
No, I would touch another string,
A purer, nobler strain than this;
Like those glad themes that angels fling
O'er harps of gold in realms of bliss.
The story of good actions wrought,
Not for the joy the donors feel,
But sacrifices God has taught
Should be endured for other's weal.
To those who thus resign their ease,
That others happier may be,
Christ says, " As ye have done to these,
So have ye done it unto me."




CUPID AMONG COUSINS.           143
And, Ellen I have marked thee well,
And seen the efforts thou hast made
The woes of others to dispel,
While grief within thy bosom preyed.
And in that realm beyond the sun
Where good works shall rewarded be,
I trust the plaudit of "well done"
Shall be awarded unto thee.
CUPID AMONG COUSINS.
Fair Ellen, my cousin, I've met girls by the dozen
Whose faces and forms seemed with beauty replete;
And times without measure, I've had the sweet pleasure
Of listening to voices entrancingly sweet;
Ah! now you are guessing the truth I'm confessing;
You're changing your color; there's a witch in your eye;
But I can't help singing this song, though the ringing
Of your merry laugh is re-echoed on high.
Then list while I tell ye how once it befell me
To get into love with a fairy-like elf,
So like you in feature and mind was the creature,
That any who saw her would say'twas yourself.'Tis said that whatever I plan I am never
Disposed to forsake, while the least chance remains;
So, planning to marry this sprightly young fairy,
I spared in the matter no labor nor pains.




144         THREE INDUCEMENTS TO LABOR.
And I might have succeeded; for'twas just what I needed,
And the sprite herself saw the thing in the same light;
But it grieves me to mention there arose a prevention,
That thwarted my plans, and put all hope to flight.'Twas said by wiseacres and crafty match-breakers,
That generally cousins consenting to wed,
Will find the arrangement a source of estrangement,
As the children of such ones had better be dead.
Thus, told that'twas treason'gainst mankind and reason,
We gave up our project without more ado,
Concluding'twas better ourselves not to fetter,
Where such direful results were like to ensue.
Though sometimes, like Adam, and Eve, our grand-madam,
While looking back sadly o'er what they had lost,
I regret I'd not tried the bright wall to o'erstride,
And take the position regardless of cost.
But the sword is still swinging round that Eden, and
ringing
Like the death-knell of ages; there falls on the ear
The same stern prohibition, giving manumission
From no law of nature, whether mild or severe.
THREE INDUCEMENTS TO LABOR.
I.
Some work for wealth, and some for power,
And some to pass the time away;
But, as for me, I do confess
That all these things inspire my lay.




THREE INDUCEMENTS TO LABOR.        145
That I want wealth, I don't deny;
I'd be like Croesus, if I could;
M ith this exception: I would try
To spend my means in doing good.
Just think of all that wealth can bring.
Tis like an Archimedian lever,
To elevate the moral world
And all its bands of evil sever.
It gives the architect his power
To build the church and lofty steeple;
It pays the preacher for his work;
It warms the house, and clothes the people.
Without it we should lack the bread,
Which heaven vouchsafes from day to day;
With this condition on our partThat we shall work as well as pray.'Tis true, the Master said, while here,
"Beloved, shun the rich man's fate.
The needle's eye camels may pass
Easier than he through Heaven's gate'"
But then,'tis said the needle's eye
Was but a gate, an entrance way,
Where camels, burdenless and bowed
Entered the city day by day.
So with the rich man, if he tries,
While traveling onward in life's road,
He'll find along the dusty way
Good use for all that Heaven's bestowed;




146        THREE INDUCEMENTS TO LABOR.
And, spending thus his surplus means,
Till he has reached the Heavenly state,
He'll meekly lay his burdens down,
And bow himself within the gate.
Then why should I not seek for wealth,
When so much good may from it rise;
Not as the miser, lacking bread,
And barring entrance to the skies;
But, dealing justly with my God,
And kindly, too, with those around,
I'll save enough of earthly goods
To keep me from the pauper's ground.
II.
I seek for power, but not the kind
For which ambitious minions start,
That fires the soul with selfishness
And crushes goodness from the heart.
The power the tyrant has to make
His fellow-man a servile slave,
And keep him there beneath his yoke,
Is not the power that I would crave.
I'd rather strike the fetters off,
And say to man, "Arise! be free!
From every chain that binds thee down,
I charge thee, take thy liberty!"
The banners of reform should wave
O'er hill and dale, the earth around;
The song of jubilee go up,
Till all mankind should hear the sound.




THREE INDUCEMENTS TO LABOR.        147
The power I crave is not brute force;
It lies within the realm of thought;'Tis not of earth, but heaven-born,
And by it, all good works are wrought.
It is the power that manhood feels
When laboring in the cause of right;
It laughs at persecution's rage,
And turns its hellish foes to flight.
It is the same that Luther had
When, like a lion from his den,
He sallied forth from convent walls,
To fight with devils and with men.
Contending always for the right,
Opposing wrong in every place,
It yields to no vain compromise
That would the cause of truth disgrace.
The boon I ask is not that Fame
Would place on me her golden mead;
But power to save myself from sin,
And aid a brother in his need.
III.
I'd work to pass the time away,
If other motives there were none;
For more than half the ills of life
Are in the idler's vineyard grown.
The ancient maxim still in use,
Has often proved itself too true,
That " Satan finds some mischief still
For any idle hands to do."




148              THE OASIS OF LIFE.
THE OASIS OF LIFE.
There are bright sunny spots in the desert of life,
Far away from confusion and care,
And the pilgrim and stranger, dejected and worn,
May at times find a resting-place there.'Tis a beautiful sight for the languishing eye,
As it turns from its sorrowing gaze,
On the darkness and gloom of life's dull, arid waste,
To the joys which this prospect displays.'Tis a relic of Eden, this vision from God,
Being left for our guidance and cheer;
As the earnest or foretaste of future reward,
To be given when Christ shall appear.
But the transports of joy which illumine the soul,
As they come through these visions of time,
Are beyond the weak language of man to express;
To declare them would need the Divine.
If, when blinded by passion, and cumbered with care,
As we are in our physical state,
We receive such impressions of glory as these
What delight must translation await.
Then redouble thy speed, laggard Time, for thy flight,
Will but hasten the coming of bliss;
And the transcendent joys of eternity's sphere,
Shall compensate for trials in this.




ADVERTISEMENT.
The author of this book, HARVEY A. FULLER, who for a number of years has been lecturing with success upon different interesting subjects, will cheerfully respond to those who wish to
secure his services as a lecturer. Arrangements can be made by
addressing him at Hillsdale, Mich. Below are inserted a few
NOTICES OF TIEE PRItESS.
From the Coldwater (Mich.) Republican, Saturday, Oct. 22d, 1870.
The Blind Lecturer, Mr. H. A. Fuller, a graduate of Hillsdale College, and
who has succeeded in gaining a fine education despite the affliction of total
blindness, will deliver a lecture at the M. E. Church in this city on Tuesday
evening, Nov. 1, 1870, and also at Girard on Monday evening, Oct. 31. Subject" How the Blind See." Mr. Fuller has already delivered this lecture in many of
our large cities, where it has been well received, and where the press has universally spoken very highly of it. The Toledo Blade contains the following notice of it:
" He gives an account of the number of blind in this country compared
with those of Europe, of the early efforts and final success of philanthropists to
found asylums for their care and Instruction; of the New York Institution for
the Blind, of which he was a member. The manner of life, amusements and
employments of its. inmates show that they wish to become useful in society.
The mirthful side of their life is most happily illustrated by sketches and incidents from his own and other's experience, which cannot fail to draw a laugh
from the stoniest heart, and drive the blues from the bluest. Concerning their
thoughts and feelings, his remarks are eloquent and touching, and will warm
the hearts of all who could be moved to pity."
From the Sandy Creek News (Sandy Creek, Orange Co., N. Y.) March 15,1872.
APOLOGY.-We intended to have spoken, in our last week's issue, of the lecture given at the Congregational Church by Mr. Fuller, the blind orator. His
lecture was entitled, " What a Blind Man Saw Among the Stars." It was replete
with information; and the minute details given of the heavenly orbs, distances
from each other, etc., led the hearer to look with astonishment upon the man
who had such a wonderful memory; for all of his lectures are delivered from
memory, being impressed upon that organ by being read to.him. His manner
of speaking was easy, and oratory good. Our citizens seemed well pleased with
the lecture, and we hope Mr. Fuller will favor us with another at no distant
date."
From the Jefferson County Journal (Jefferson Co., N. Y.) Nov. 16, 1871.
We had the pleasure, last Sabbath evening, of listening to the blind lecturer, Mr. Fuller, at the Baptist Church in Mannsvlle. The church was crowded
and the aisles were full of people who stood respectfully during the entire
lecture. The subject was " Temperance," and it was handled in an original
manner. Drunkenness was affirmed to be a crime. The man who took sufficient
intoxicating drink to dim his reasoning or moral faculties was a criminal and
guilty of murder. Not only is such a one a self-murderer, but he has made him



150                     ADVERTISEMENT.
self a dangerous man to society. The liquor may prompt him to kill a man in
his mad frenzy. Where lies the responsibility of an act of murder committed by
an inebriate at the time of his intoxication? When he slew his fellow-man, his
brain was frenzied, and he was not entirely responsible. The responsibility goes
back to the time when he voluntarily took the maddening liquor and placed
himself under its power; then it was that he made himself a murderer. This
view of the subject, it will be seen, when carried out. touches the subject of
temperance in all its bearings; the responsibility of individual moderate drinkers and of the public for its opinion are vitally connected with it. The speaker's style was chaste and finished, and his address throughout betokened
the scholar as well as the warm-hearted man. His pronunciation was almost.
faultless, his voice clear and distinct, and some portions of his address were remarkably fine and affecting, especially so were his parallel pictures of the home
of the temperance man. We might give extracts from his address, but space
will not permit, and we presume all of our readers will improve the opportunity
of hearing him and receiving the benefit of his instructive lectures from his
own lips. Mr. Fuller is apparently about thirty-five years of age. He was born
in the town of Ellisburg, and lost the sight of one eye when a child; the other
eye was destroyed by inflammation when he was about eighteen years of age,
since which time he has been totally blind. He was for several years at the
school for the blind in New York city; since then he has attended and graduated
at Hillsdale College, paying the expenses of his education, in the main, as he
went along. He is an example of what industry and perseverance can accomplish for one who has to contend against great disadvantages. He passed
through his college course, learning his lessons by having some one read them to
him, and graduated with honor. Since his graduation he has supported himself
by lecturing, in which he has met with much success. He very seldom charges
an admittance fee, but has a collection taken up at the close of his address,
when all who appreciate his lecture and the cause in which he is engaged have
an opportunity to contribute. Certainly the success he has met with, and the instructive and moral power of his lectures are emphatic in demonstrating that his
choice has been wise in taking public speaking for his vocation. He has prepared
and delivered lectures on several interesting topics, of which one of the most
interesting is on the mode of instruction for the blind. His stay in this part of
the country will probably be brief, so that all who are desirous of securing him
to lecture in their vicinity, should make arrangements to secure his services at
once. His lecturing through the country would be of great value to the cause of
Temperance and morality.
INTOTICE TO THIE PTJBILIC.
As I have been requested by Mr. Downey, who has had the charge of getting out the first edition of " Trimsharp's Account of Himself," (he knowing that
I had read the whole work) to express my opinion of its merits, I most cheerfully
comply with his request by saying that I have found the historical part to be
exceedingly well written giving many incidents in his own life as well as in the
lives of several others, wto, like himself, were deprived of the blessing of sight,
that will be found interesting to the general reader; and I am also satisfied that
his Poems indicate such an adaptation of mind to that branch of writing, that
it will be well for him to give it his particular attention. And I am willing to
risk my reputation as a judge of the wants of the people, by saying that I have not
a doubt of his meeting with great success in thus offering these reminiscences to
an appreciative public.
A. W. CHASE, M. D.,
Prest. and Supt. of the Ann Arbor Printing and Publishing Company, Author
of "Dr. Chase's Recipes; or, Information for Everybody," and "Dr. Chase's
Family Physician, Farrier, Bee-Keeper, and Second Receipt Book."