THE last time we had a talk on paper about blind children and their lessons, I promised to tell you about schools for the adult blind. But as my little friend Bessie will be sure to remind me that she does not know the meaning of the word "adult," I may as well begin by telling her that adults are grown-up people.
Ah, I almost seem to see the look of wonder on some of your faces as you read the words I have just written. You did not know that grown-up people ever went to school, did you? And I think a few of you will be still more surprised when I tell you that Wednesday afternoon, when so many schools have a half-holiday, and the scholars, set free from the duties that are for the time their real work, are at liberty to enjoy all sorts of out and indoor pleasures, is the time when the class we are going to visit is held.
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CLASSES HELD IN THE OPEN AIR.
But as many of those who attend think and speak of the hours spent at school as among the happiest of the week, and I am sure enjoy their lessons as much as you do your game of ball or shuttle-cock, we will not stop to pity them for having to work while some of their young friends are at play.
“How close to each other the houses are built, and how hot it seems," some of our party, whose homes are in the country, are sure to say, as after leaving a railway station on the North London line, and crossing a broad and pleasant road planted with young limes, now in all their summer beauty, their bright green leaves giving a pleasant sense of shade and coolness, we turn into a street in which the houses are smaller, and many of the poor people we meet seem very poor.
But our walk will not be a long one, and if there is not much to look at, we shall have plenty to think and talk about, for Maggie, who is fond of history, will perhaps remind us that long, long ago a Roman camp was, there is every reason to believe, pitched very near the spot on which we now stand, and one at least of the streets near may have taken the name it still bears from Glocus, a famous general, who, it is said, landed in Britain at the same time as Julius Caesar. An old-fashioned house, part of which is now used as a warehouse, strongly built of brick with facings of red tile, is pointed out to us as having been one of King John's palaces.
Maggie would, I know, like to linger and look at the carved stonework still above the door, but we must hasten on, or we shall not have time for our visit.
As classes for the blind is only one of many uses to which the building we enter is put, we shall not be surprised to see a number of texts as well as colored prints of places we have read much of in our Bibles are on the walls, giving the hall a bright and cheerful look.
Quite a number of blind women and girls are present with their guides, and while they are being placed, in what are called grades, round tables, each under the care of a teacher who is herself blind, we receive a kind welcome from the superintendent, Mr. Bloomfield, who is quite an old friend of ours.
He tells us the class now forming takes the place of one for men and boys held earlier in the day. It is really one for instruction in Braille writing. But as some of us do not know anything about Braille, except, perhaps, just its name, we say we should like to hear a little about it, and as Mr. Bloomfield speaks of the late Dr. Armitage, whose long years of steady, patient work, added to his deep love for the blind, did so much to give the Braille system its present high place in the education of the blind, and from whom he received much personal kindness, his face lights up with so much feeling and quick intelligence, that we find it difficult to realize that his eyes never looked upon the face of the loved and honored friend with whom he so often conversed, for the total loss of sight when not more than eight or nine years of age shut him out from the use of printed lessons. He tells us that when Dr. Armitage first began his work, he found five different ways of teaching the blind to read were in use in the schools he visited.
All these he felt sure only gave needless trouble, and caused much time to be wasted, as blind persons taught on one system were often quite unable to read books prepared on any other. He saw, too, that the cost of embossing the few books then in use was so great, that very few readers were able to have more than one or two of the gospels, or, perhaps, one of the epistles of Paul.
Unable to find what he sought in England, the kind doctor set out to visit schools and institutions for the blind in France and Germany. He was much pleased with what he saw at Paris, where all the scholars were taught to read and write in what is called the Braille or dotted system, a very clever Frenchman, Louis Braille, who was one of the teachers, having introduced it into his school about thirty years before Dr. Armitage's visit.
We are sure he was very glad and thankful, for he held, as it were, a key that would, with God's blessing, enable him to open many a long-closed door, and send the sweet message of the gospel to hundreds of blind persons, many of whose lives were, he knew, very sad and lonely ones.
But you must not think his work was done. Oh no; he was only just getting ready to begin it; for, as you know, the Braille writing was first used in France, and some changes had to be made before it was adapted to the use of English readers and writers.
A few blind persons were taught Braille: they got on so well and liked it so much that it soon began to be used in schools. Next, Dr. Armitage told his seeing friends about his work and asked their help, and when any of them wanted to know how they could give it, he told them they must learn to write Braille and copy books for the use of the blind. And quite a number, whose hearts, may we not hope, had been touched by the love of Christ, became in this way his willing helpers.
About eight hundred books have in this way been copied, or we may say translated, for the Braille letters are not at all like those we see in printed books, and though Dr. Armitage has gone from the work he loved so well to be with the Savior in whom he trusted, his friends go steadily on, and every year brings new and willing helpers.
But we have been talking so long that it is quite time for the class to begin.
A signal is given, and all present join in a hymn, followed by prayer and a short scripture reading. Then the real work of the afternoon commences. Each pupil has a board about fourteen inches long and seven wide. A brass ruler, made with great care, and fitting exactly into holes or grooves in the frame, is also needed. The dots are made by using what is called a style, or dotter, not very unlike the pricker many of you were so fond of using in some of the varied and pretty Kindergarten occupations.
A sheet of stiff paper is given to each and fixed in a way that will not allow it to slip. There is not much talking, but a clicking sound is made by all the dotters being used at once. Let us look closely at some of the work. One grade is busy with the alphabet. A young girl stops in her work, and turning a face full of trouble to her sightless teacher, says, "My dotter will not bite." Though the teacher cannot see the sad look as we do, her quick ear has caught all the trouble in the voice of the pupil, who is a new-corner and has only lost her sight a short time; so, with a few pleasant words, she places her hand over that of the writer, finding, as she expected, the dotter was wrongly held. We see that only six dots are used, but placed in different ways; they form all the letters of the alphabet, and, as we shall see in a higher grade, are used for quite a number of words.
Some of the classes are writing from dictation, and as we notice how quickly and well their work is corrected by the teacher, who seldom allows a wrongly-placed dot to escape notice, our hearts seem to glow with love and pity for our sightless friends, and we long to do something to help in leading some of them to a deeper, truer knowledge of Him who said: "He that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life." (John 8:1212Then spake Jesus again unto them, saying, I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life. (John 8:12).)