Deaf Dumb Blind
Caroline J. Ladd
Table of Contents
A New Arrival: Chapter 1
IT was a pleasant day in the early spring of 18-. Morning school was over, so at a signal from their teacher the boys and girls (for the school we are going to visit was a mixed one) left their classes and trooped out into the playground for the half-hour before dinner, which they were always allowed to spend much as they pleased.
If you, dear young reader, could have joined them at their play you would, I think, have said "The children are having a good time." Ball, played either singly or in twos and threes, seemed quite a favorite game. A few of the girls had skipping ropes; while tops and marbles were taken by the boys from pockets in which they had been hidden away during school hours.
But though a few of the players made a strange kind of noise sometimes, most of the games went on very quietly; not a word was spoken, no sound of merry voices, no peals of ringing laughter reminded passers-by that it was the children's playtime.
I wonder if any of you have guessed my secret? Ah, I think some of our party have, for Grace and Julia are whispering together. What is Grace saying? That she believes I am going to tell you about a school for deaf and dumb children, or, as they are often called, deaf mutes.
Grace is right, and I hope that our talks on paper about the deaf and dumb, perhaps, too, before we say good-by, a few of the blind people I have known, will not only make us each more thankful to God, the Giver of every good and every perfect gift (see James 1:17), for the blessings of speech and sight which we enjoy, but help to train us in habits of thought for others, so that we shall not mind taking a little trouble or giving a little time to help or comfort those who never hear the music of a loving voice or see the light of a kindly smile, the afflicted children whose lives are so often sad and lonely ones.
But we must return to the playground. One of the elder girls, whose name I really do not remember, so will call her Jane, came from the house where the master and mistress, Mr. and Mrs. S., lived, and going into the midst of a ring of girls who were playing catch-ball, waved her hand twice. The children knew the signal quite well, they understood its meaning, too-"Attention," or "I want to speak to you." And as Jane was a great favorite they left their play and gathered round her, all eager to know what she had to say to them.
But I see some of you are looking quite puzzled, and Nellie says I promised to tell you about deaf and dumb children, and she does not know how they could talk to or understand each other.
You will smile when I tell you that once I had the same thought myself. But if ' Nellie will only have a little patience, I think I shall be able to explain what I must own seems strange at first.
There are two ways of teaching deaf mutes. One is called the oral or lip-reading, the other the sign and manual system. By the oral method the children are taught to pronounce words by placing the tongue and lips in certain positions, and then trained to use what small powers of voice they possess. I once saw a lesson on the oral system given to a class of deaf mutes, and I think every child in the class must have taken "Try, try again" as his or her school motto, while great patience was needed on the part of the teacher.
But I have only answered half the question, so I must tell you that it is by means of what we call lip-reading that deaf mutes who have been taught to speak are enabled to understand what is said. It would take me so long to explain on paper how lip-reading is learned that I am afraid if I tried to do so you would get tired of our subject in the very first chapter. But if you will say a few short easy words over very slowly to yourself you will find the form of your lips change with almost everyone It is by watching these changes that a good lip-reader will see, for we must not forget they cannot hear, what others are saying.
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ORAL TEACHING.
The other way, of teaching deaf children sign and manual, is much older and quite different. About a hundred years ago two Christian workers, one living in, and I believe a native of, France, the other a Scotchman, were led at nearly the same time to take an interest in the deaf and dumb, and, after much thought and prayer, to attempt teaching them by making at first what are called signs, and afterward the letters of the alphabet by movements of the hands and fingers, the pupils of the French teacher using only one, those of the Scotchman both hands.
Quite a number of deaf mutes were in this way taught to read the Bible. Still more had to be sent away for want of room. At last it became necessary to open schools for the deaf and dumb, and other teachers took up the work. The few signs at first used grew into a silent language. At the present time deaf mutes who have been educated on this system in England, Scotland, and America use both hands in finger-talking, while those who went to school in France or Ireland employ one only.
But as we have been away from the playground quite a long time, I may as well interpret the rapid finger-talking of the first class of girls by telling you the news that Jane had brought to her young friends was, that a new girl had just been brought to the school. Jane had seen her, and one of the teachers would soon bring her into the playground. The newcomer, as she was not likely to be one of their classmates, might not have excited more than a passing interest in the minds of the elder girls had not Jane added that the stranger, whose name was Susie, was so small as to look almost like a baby.
“How old is Susie?" one of the girls asked. Jane held up the thumb and forefinger of her left hand, and all children then knew that the little girl was seven years of age. Jane then explained by signs that the new-corner was not taller than a child of two, and so small that Jane said she was just like a very large doll they had often seen in the window of a toy shop on the King's Road.
Though I do not know Susie myself, I have often talked with deaf mutes who were at school with her. I think, from what they have told me about her, she must have been a dwarf. But as perhaps Jane did not know the word or its meaning, I am not at all surprised at her saying "Susie was just like a doll." And yet how unlike, for I am sure you all know that Susie had a soul. A soul of such value that the Lord Jesus, the Son of God, who came as Son of man to seek and to save that which was lost (Luke 19:10), had given His own precious blood that it might be saved and made fit for the holy presence of God.
But at the time my story begins, which is going to be all true, poor little seven-year-old Susie did not know anything about the Lord Jesus and His love. I do not think she even knew she had a soul. But the Savior who had said "It is not the will of your Father which is in heaven, that one of these little ones should perish" (Matt. 18:14) was leading the lonely child by the right way. In my next chapter I hope to tell you something about Susie's school-days.
School Days: Chapter 2
GOING to school I think must have seemed to Susie almost like living in a new world. The first seven years of her life had been lonely ones, for Susie had not any brothers or sisters of her own to play with, and as she was often fretful and self-willed the neighbors' children soon got tired of trying to amuse her, and after calling her "a cross little thing," a remark which as you know Susie could not hear was not likely to trouble her much, though I have no doubt she would not only see but understand the unkind look that so often goes with harsh or ungentle words, went off to seek more lively playmates, leaving the afflicted child to amuse herself as best she could.
Have you, dear little friends, ever watched a fountain playing? I think most of you have, and I am sure when the sun shone on its pure, bright waters, seeming to turn them almost into a many-colored rainbow, you smiled and thought it a very pretty sight.
But now I want to say just a word or two about another fountain. One that does not send forth sweet waters. Angry looks, sullen tempers, unkind or untruthful words spring from the fountain I am now thinking of. Have any of you guessed its name? Ah, most, perhaps all, of you know. The heart is this fountain; your heart and mine. Let me give you just one short passage from the prophet Jeremiah. You will remember he was one of God's faithful servants who lived and wrote rather more than six hundred years before Christ. He was sent with very solemn messages to the Jews, who were God's earthly people. They did not like to hear what God had to say about their sins, so they got angry with His messenger and shut him up in prison. But the message was from God, and Jeremiah had no choice but to give it even to those who would not listen to or believe it.
Very sad and solemn words are those in which God bade him write the history of the human heart. "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it? I the Lord search the heart, I try the reins, even to give every man according to his ways, and according to the fruit of his doings." (Jer. 17:9, 10.)
If we bear in mind that a child who is deaf and dumb has the same sinful heart, the same evil nature you and I have, we shall not be surprised to hear that our little Susie sometimes got into trouble by her naughty ways.
But Nellie, who thinks there is no one in the world so kind as her own darling mother, will be sure to remind me that I have not told you yet even if Susie had to leave her mother to go to school. "Did I forget?" No, Nellie, I have not forgotten. But as my story is going to be about Susie, not about her mother, it will, I think, be enough to say that though Susie cried a little and clung to her mother's dress when she found she was going to be left among strangers she was soon comforted, and though at first she was very shy, after a few days began in her own quiet way to make friends with one or two of the girls who were about the same age as herself.
But we all know that going to school means a great deal besides getting to know all the girls, or having merry games out in the playground, and pleasant chats round the schoolroom fire on rainy days. Lessons, some of them long and hard ones, have to be learned. But before I tell you about Susie's lessons I should first of all like to introduce you to one at least of her teachers.
Carrie, as she is called by all her friends, is deaf, dumb and blind. But before I write another word I seem almost to hear a chorus of voices, some of them very far away ones, for this little book will, I trust, find its way into scattered homes in Canada and New Zealand, besides many other places, saying, "We thought you were going to tell us about one of Susie's teachers, and we cannot understand how poor Carrie, who you say is deaf, dumb and blind, could be of any use as a teacher of others?”
Well, I know it seems wonderful, so wonderful that had I not promised to tell you an all-true story, I could hardly expect you would believe what you have just read.
But it is a fact, and as I know Carrie quite well, I am sure you will be interested in hearing her history.
It is rather more than forty years since Carrie, who is still living, became a pupil in a school for deaf and dumb children at one of our south coast watering-places. I am not going to tell you its name, for I have no doubt many of you will go there for your seaside holiday, and I am sure you would all want to see Carrie after reading her story. I am afraid if I gave you her address she would get almost too many visits.
When Carrie first went to school she was a little girl of between ten and eleven years of age. She was not blind then or even dumb. But a very severe attack of scarlet fever had deprived her entirely of hearing, so that she was quite deaf, and in a short time, perhaps partly from not being able to hear her own voice, and partly from being so much with those who were only able to speak to each other on their fingers, she seemed to forget the use of words and became almost dumb, though I believe she did not altogether lose her sight till she had been at school for some years.
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CHILDREN IN SCHOOL.
Carrie's cheerful, obliging disposition soon made her a favorite with both teachers and scholars, for though she was fond of play and enjoyed to the utmost any little treat or amusement in which she was allowed to take part, few things giving her greater pleasure than to pick up shells and seaweeds when, as was often the case on half-holidays, the children were taken by their teachers to the shingly beach-she took great pains with her lessons, and got on so well that, after being three or four years at school, a class of young children was often placed under her care, and in due time she was promoted to the post of a regular teacher.
From quite a child the Holy Spirit had shown Carrie that she was a sinner, and the thought of her sins very often made her unhappy. Sometimes she would cry as if her heart would break, and make up her mind to be good. All her resolutions ended in failure and disappointment. She thought, I have no doubt, that she was seeking Jesus; but she did not then know that a loving Savior was seeking her. Very great indeed was her joy when she was enabled to trust simply in the work of Christ for salvation. She could not keep the glad tidings to herself, but began (in her silent language) to tell her scholars about Jesus in such a simple, earnest way that several of them longed to know for themselves the secret of her joy. And I am sure that those among them who really went to Him for pardon and peace tasted the sweetness of His love and found in Him a precious Savior.
It must have been a great trial to Carrie when her sight failed entirely, leaving her blind as well as deaf and dumb. But her faith in the love and care of God, though much tried, was kept firm and bright. A blind gentleman taught her to read the raised or embossed type in which the Bible and many other books have been prepared for the use of those who cannot see, and as her quickness of touch enabled her to understand when those who had learned the manual alphabet took her hand and made the letters and signs on it, she was able to go on with her teaching.
From the very first day that our little Susie was received into the school, Carrie became much attached to her, and in many-ways showed that she was her loving friend as well as her patient teacher. And Susie returned the love of her sightless friend, often giving up a game of play to act as her guide, and proving herself as reliable and careful as she was willing. I think Susie had learned the secret of all true service, "Love to a Person." And, dear young believer, shall not the thought of the One whom we serve wake up precious memories in your heart and mine as we repeat with adoring gladness "We love him, because he first loved us"? (1 John 4:19.)
Learning to Read and to Sew: Chapter 3
PERHAPS some of the many who are, I hope, beginning to take an interest in our little Susie may wish to know more about her school-days, and wonder what her lessons were and how she learned them.
One of the first was, I think, the use of what we may call two golden keys, keys that have opened many a rusty lock. Do you know what I mean? How to say, or rather sign-for we must not forget Susie was a deaf mute-"If you please," and "Thank you." But Louie looks surprised, and says she was taught to be polite long before she went to school, and thinks Susie must have been a very rude little girl.
“Do I agree with her?" Not quite, for we need to remember that it is not exactly the same thing to be careless and forget what we have been taught as it is not to have learned at all, and a child who is deaf and dumb has to be taught many things that those who are not learn from listening to the words of their elders and playmates. I think I can make this clear by telling you about a young girl I know who is a deaf mute.
Her name is Mary. Like many others who are afflicted like herself, she can hear loud noises, such as the firing of a gun, or the passing of a heavy cart. She went with me one afternoon to the house of a friend, whose canary, at that time in full song, had a very loud, shrill note. After standing quite near its cage for some time, Mary told us on her fingers that the bird was talking, and she could hear it. Of course we smiled at her mistake, and explained that the canary could not talk, but was singing.
A few evenings later, Mary and I were, I think, on our way to a Bible reading, when we passed a church where the bells were ringing for evening service. My companion told me she could hear something, but she did not know what the sound was. I had only time to spell one word, "bells," on my fingers, when Mary, who I expect wanted me to see how well she remembered her lesson, said, "Yes; I know now, the bells are singing.”
You and I can hardly, I expect, remember when or how we first learned to distinguish sounds and to call them by their right names, but Mary had left school some years before what I have been telling you occurred.
But it is so long since we left Susie that I almost forget what I was telling you about her. Nellie remembers and says we were talking about her lessons; so we may as well go on with our subject. Susie, who was a quick, intelligent child, was soon promoted from the lowest class, where almost all the finger-talking was done by making signs, to one in which she was required to learn how to spell words, so, of course, she had to learn all the letters of the alphabet. How was this done?
By placing an alphabet card before the class, the teacher then touched a letter with her pointer; but instead of calling it by its name, made it on her fingers. All the children holding up their hands did the same. After a few trials most of the class were able to repeat the letter at a sign from their teacher. Easy lessons in reading, of course, follow the alphabet.
By the time Susie had been about three years at the school she was able to converse with ease in the sign and manual languages used by deaf mutes; her progress in reading and writing were also good. Perhaps one of the greatest troubles of her school-days was needlework afternoons, for our little friend did not like sewing. In the first place there was some difficulty in finding a thimble small enough to fit such a tiny finger. First the stock used by the very youngest girls in the school was looked over, but in vain. Several were tried on, but Susie only shook her head, laughed, and even succeeded in getting two fingers into some of them. After a visit to three or four shops, one only a size too large was found. A fold of soft paper enabled its wearer to use it without its slipping off and rolling under the seat more than three or four times during the hour of work.
But Susie's needle gave her far more trouble than her thimble had done. Perhaps she was really a little stupid, and could not get into the right way of holding it, or she might not even have done her best to understand and remember how her teacher wished the work to be done. But without stopping to find out the cause of her objection to learning to sew, the fact remained that poor Susie, instead of looking on her needle as a very useful little servant, began to think of it as a stern and severe taskmistress, and very glad indeed she was when the lesson was ended and she was allowed to leave the school room, generally running off to her kind friend Carrie. She would take her for a walk round the garden and playground, where she soon forgot not only how sore her fingers were from the sharp pricks she had given them, but even the scolding received from her teacher.
After reading what I have just written, it may perhaps surprise you to be told that a year or two later Susie not only received a needlework prize, but visitors to the school often noticed how neatly and quickly she worked. How did she learn? I expect we all know that our motives are the reasons why we want to do certain things, so when I tell you that at last Susie found a motive for wishing to learn to sew in her love for and desire to please a dear friend, you will understand what I mean. But I must tell you how it all came about.
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SEWING CLASS
Susie did not go to spend her holidays with her friends, though most of the children did. One bright midsummer day she was the only one left at school, and would, I think, have been very lonely if the housekeeper, who at that time had the care of her, had not treated her with great kindness and allowed her to amuse herself in various ways.
She was very fond of swinging, and as there were two or three swings fixed in different parts of the school grounds, she spent a good deal of her time in this amusement.
One evening she slipped from the swing and fell with some force to the ground. Being really a little hurt as well as a good deal frightened, she did not even try to get up, but lay crying on the gravel path till the postman, on his way to the house with letters, opened the garden gate.
I do not know if he had any little girls of his own, but he saw at a glance how matters stood. Lifting the sobbing child from the ground, he dried her tears, and, taking her up in his strong arms as if she had been a baby, gave her a ride on his shoulder. Perhaps he called her by some such household names as Grace and Mary love to hear when their own dear father returns home after a long day spent in his city warehouse, and though Susie could not hear the endearing words, I do not think they were quite wasted on her, for she could see and understand the kind look that went with them, and feel safe and rested in the arms that carried her so tenderly.
From that evening Susie and the postman were firm friends, and as she soon learned at what time he was sure to pass, even if he did not stop to deliver letters, she was almost always at the gate ready to open it for him. He did not forget his little friend, and often delighted her by the gift of an apple or a few sweets, a great treat to Susie, but one she was always ready to share with her classmates. And as their friendship grew into mutual affection, Susie began to wish very much she could do something that would give pleasure to her new found friend.
But what should the something be? She was only a poor little girl with very few possessions she might call her own, and though she would gladly have given him a string of beads she valued very much, she could not feel at all sure that he would care for what she thought so pretty. So her question remained for some time unanswered, till one day a lady, who took a great interest in the school, gave Susie a new sixpence. The child, who could not remember ever having had a silver coin of her own before, was much pleased. How bright and pretty the sixpence looked. She did not know exactly how many cakes or sweets she could buy with it; but as she did not intend buying any, it was not of much consequence. She had quite made up her mind to give the sixpence to the postman, and ran off to consult Carrie about the best way of doing so.
Much to her surprise, Carrie did not think that her treasured sixpence would be quite a suitable present; but told her that she thought a much better plan would be to buy a pocket-handkerchief, hem it very neatly, and give it to her friend. Susie looked grave at first, knowing before she could sew neatly she must overcome her dislike to needlework. But when Carrie assured her that she could really give pleasure by doing so, she looked up with a smile, and spelled I will try " on the hand of her sightless friend. I am glad to be able to tell you that Susie kept her word.
No more tears on needlework afternoons; her thimble seemed to fit better, and she did not prick her finger nearly so often.
My chapter is already a long one, but before I close I want to ask you, dear young reader, a question. Do you know anything of the deep joy of serving from love? If you know the Lord Jesus as your own precious Savior, if you can say of Him, "The Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me" (Gal. 2:20), I know you really want to serve and please Him. How could it be otherwise? But do not think you need wait till you are grown up and have different work to do. Take all your home and school duties as from Him, and try to do them faithfully and well from love to Christ, and perhaps some day He will show you that even the very lessons you found so difficult were just the ones you needed to fit you for the very next bit of happy work He gave you the joy of doing for Him.
Sought and Found: Chapter 4
THOUGH I think our talks about Susie's school-days have been pleasant ones, I must not forget that, weak and small as the afflicted child was, she had a treasure of such value that gold and gems could not buy it-a never dying soul, so precious that the only way in which it could be redeemed was by the Savior, the Son of God, dying upon the cross. If you will open your Bibles at the first Epistle of Peter, and read the eighteenth and nineteenth verses of the first chapter, you will see for yourselves what the word of God says about the great cost at which every one who belongs to Christ has been redeemed.
I am sure all of you know that the Lord Jesus is a seeking Savior. (Luke 19:10.) And though little Susie often felt very sorry when her kind teacher Carrie, who you will remember was deaf, dumb and blind, told her by signs of all the Savior had suffered, it was not till the Holy Spirit skewed her herself as a lost and sinful child that she really came to Jesus and trusted Him as her own precious Savior.
I am sorry I cannot tell you just how and when Susie went to Jesus for salvation. Perhaps it was in the schoolroom while lessons were going on, or it may have been when she was alone, like a young Scotch girl of whose conversion a friend was telling me only a few days ago. I wonder if her true story will interest you as much as it did me? You shall hear it.
Her name is Maggie, and she lives in a fishing-village only a few miles out of Edinburgh. Maggie was very fond of going with her father to the meeting where a few Christians met every Lord's day, to remember the Lord's death in the breaking of bread. There was no meeting in the village where Maggie lived, but I think she rather enjoyed her long walk of quite four miles along the sea-shore, taking care always to be ready in good time so as not to keep her father waiting.
About four years ago, one of the Lord's servants, who knew Maggie quite well, noticed that her rosy face had a sad, almost a troubled, look on it, and felt sure the little girl was not happy. Drawing her to him at the close of the meeting, Mr. Roberts soon found he had not been mistaken as to the cause of Maggie's sorrow, for, as she told him between her sobs, "She did want to love the Lord Jesus, only she did not know how.”
It was "the old, old story" of a giving God, of a seeking Savior, of the love of Christ to sinners, that Maggie's friend had to tell the weeping girl. Opening his Bible at John 3:16, he asked her to read the beautiful verse for him (one I am sure we all know). If Maggie then and there had simply believed in Christ, of course she would have gone home a very happy child, with her burden of sin all gone; but it was not till two or three weeks after, when Maggie, who had not been quite well, was keeping house all alone one Sunday evening, that she really trusted herself to Jesus.
Maggie was fond of reading, and as she turned the pages of a little book called "The Gospel Messenger" (published at the same office as the one you are reading), her eye fell upon a verse from God's own word, "He was wounded for our transgressions he was bruised for our iniquities the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed." (Isa. 53:5.) She read the words over and over again, and then by faith she just looked right away to Jesus, and thanked Him for having borne all her sins in His own body on the cross. She asked Him, too, to make her His loving child, His faithful little servant.
And so her tears were all dried, and the new deep joy of simply trusting Jesus made her life a very bright and happy one. She still loves to go to the meetings, but 1 think they must seem quite different to her now, for about a year since, to her great delight, she was allowed to take her place at the Lord's table, there to join with others in loving obedience to His own word, "This do in remembrance of me." (Luke 22:19.)
Maggie has known sorrow, too, for only a few weeks ago the Lord took her dearly-loved father to be with Himself. His illness was only a short one, but peace, the peace a risen Savior gives to those who trust Him, filled his soul. Seeing Maggie crying, as she sat by his bed, he laid his hand tenderly upon her head, saying as he did so, “Dinna fret, lassie, dinna fret."
Soon after he asked," Can't you help father sing a hymn, Maggie?"And though she felt very sad and lonely when the parting came, Maggie knows her father is with Christ," which is far better.”
But some of you are getting tired, and say, "You would like to hear more about Susie." Did she tell any one of how the Good Shepherd had sought and found her, a little straying lamb? Oh yes; taking the hand of her blind friend Carrie, she would spell the precious name of Jesus, adding, "He died for me. He loves me. I need not speak to Him on my fingers, but I talk to Him in my heart." I do not think she wrote many letters, for like most deaf mutes she found it difficult to express herself clearly on paper.
Any of my young readers who have received letters from the deaf and dumb will understand what I mean. Bertie says he does not know any deaf mutes, and wonders what sort of letters they write.
Can I show him any? I have just taken a paper from my desk, given to me some time ago by a young woman who is deaf and dumb, so I will copy it for him. I expect the writer, Mary Ann R., chose the form of question and answer because she thought it would be the most easy.
“Question. If you were to die would you go to heaven?
“Answer. Yes.
“O. How do you know?
“A. Because the Lord Jesus loves me.
“Q. How can you be sure that He loves you?
“A. Because He died for me.
“Q. When did you begin to love Jesus?
“A. When I was about ten years old. I was away from home at school.
“Q. How did you learn you were a sinner?
“A. The Bible says there is none righteous, only One; that is Jesus.
“Q. Are you ever tempted to do wrong?
“A. Yes, very often.
“Q. How do you know that you are saved?
“A. Because my sins are all gone. All washed away by the precious blood of Christ.”
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SUSIE WAS OFTEN FOUND KNEELING DOWN.
I cannot tell you how glad and thankful I was to get the paper you have just read, and to know the one who wrote it had really and truly been taught of God to know and own the Lord Jesus as her own precious Savior. His desire for us is that our lives as well as our lips should witness that we belong to Him, and Susie skewed by the cheerful, loving obedience in the schoolroom, as well as by gentle, unselfish ways in the playground, that she was trying to please and follow Christ.
Her quick temper had often led her into outbreaks of passion when teased or offended by her schoolmates. But when told that it would grieve the Savior to see her angry, she seemed greatly troubled, and asked, "What shall I do when the girls vex me?" Her teacher told her to ask Jesus to help her. She smiled, and held up both her thumbs, it being her way of saying the advice was "very good.”
Afterward when missed from her playfellows, her teachers knew where to look for, and often found Susie kneeling by her little bed. Once when asked why she had run away from a merry game, her reply was, "I was just going to be naughty, so I came to tell Jesus I was sorry and ask Him to keep me.”
What Could Susie Do for Jesus? Chapter 5
SUSI E had been at school for about five years when she began to ask the question that stands as the heading of this chapter. She was twelve years old, but so small that strangers never guessed her real age. She was a first class girl, now "quite an old scholar," as she often told those who understood her silent language. And it was among her classmates the loving service that did so much to make the last years of her life bright and happy was begun.
Quarrels sometimes took place in the playground. After Susie's conversion she always took the part of a peacemaker, going first to one then to the other of those who had disagreed, begging them, often with tears, to forgive each other and be friends; telling them, too, in her simple way, that it would grieve the Lord Jesus if they were unkind or angry. And as most of the girls loved Susie, and did not like to see her unhappy, her attempts at putting an end to quarrels were often a success. And then, I am sure, it was the peace Jesus gives to those who trust Him that not only filled her heart, but gave her face the bright, happy look it so often wore.
As I know that many of you, my dear young readers, have not left school, I really must stop to ask you a question. Are you shining for Jesus? those of you who love Him, I mean, for if you have not come to Him for salvation, each one for him or herself, you do not care to please or serve Him, though some people seem to make a strange kind of mistake just here, and try to put working for Christ before coming to Him. I remember once having quite a long talk with an old lady who was doing it. Bessie says, "Will I please tell her all about it?" I will, as nearly as I can; but it was a very long time ago, and perhaps I may not remember quite all we said.
It was a lovely evening in early spring. I was going by omnibus from one part of London to another, when at one of the stopping-places all the inside passengers, except myself and an old lady, got out. We had not traveled far together before I had the opportunity of doing her a little kindness. A very small thing it was, but not too small to be used in the Lord's hand as a key by which the long-closed door of a lonely, sorrowful heart was to be opened to the sweet message of the gospel.
After looking at me a few moments in silence, the lady, whose name I do not know, asked me such a strange question. I think some of you would have been as much surprised as I was. It was not the words so much as the manner in which they were said that for a moment almost startled me.
“Did you ever try to do good to any one and get no thanks for it?" my companion asked. For a moment I did not answer. Now a moment we know is a very short space of time, but it was long enough for me to remember that the One who is spoken of in the Book of Proverbs by the name of "Wisdom" had said: "Counsel is mine." (See chap. 8:14.) Time enough, too, to own Him as my Lord and Master, and to ask Him to teach me what to say.
So my answer was, "Perhaps I have sometimes; but I think it was a test as to whether I did it to please myself or the One to whom I owe everything, the Lord Jesus Christ,”
“I really do not understand you," my fellow traveler replied, with a sad, anxious look. "You talk about pleasing Christ just as if you knew Him well enough to be sure what He would like. Now, I never did anything to please Him in my life, and I should not know how or where to begin.”
“You cannot serve Christ until you know Him as a Savior," I replied. "Please do not be angry with me for asking a very plain question-but have you come to Him as a sinner, owning your need of salvation?”
Her face and voice were very full of trouble as she said, "I do not think I know what you mean by coming to Jesus. Now if you asked me if I read my Bible, I should be able to answer Yes; for I have read the New Testament over and over again, and, I think the life and death of Christ, as we get it in the four gospels, very wonderful and beautiful. How kind He was to everyone, and how noble His forgiveness of His enemies was. But I cannot say I quite understand you.”
In very simple words I told the poor old lady of a giving God (John 3:16), a seeking Savior (Luke 19:10), as I repeated the well-known line:
"None but Jesus can do helpless sinners good.”
She looked up, her whole manner changing, and said, "Oh, do say those words to me again. I have heard them before, but it is a very long time since, I think almost twenty years. My youngest son had been in a very low way for some time. He could not rest at nights, but used to walk up and down his room for hours at a time, wringing his hands and crying to God to have mercy upon him. And he used to talk so strangely, too, telling us that he was a great sinner and deserved to go to hell, till his brothers thought he was going out of his mind and wanted me to have him put in the asylum. But he came to himself quite suddenly, saying the words you repeated. And he seemed so happy, and told us he was a saved man, and that God, for Christ's sake, had forgiven all his sins. He went abroad soon after, but he writes me such long, loving letters, and your words have made me think of what he said.”
Our journey was at an end, so we said "Good-bye." I have not met her since, but I often think of our conversation, and wonder if, through the blessing of the Lord, it was the means of leading a weary one to turn to Him who said, "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." (Matt. 11:28.)
Susie was much interested in being told about the poor children of India by a teacher who was leaving B. to take charge of a mission school in that far-off land. She seemed much troubled on hearing that great numbers of Hindu children did not know anything about the true God, but prayed to idols, saying, on her fingers, "Oh, do tell them about the Lord Jesus Christ, and I will pray to Him for you and for all the girls who attend your school." She then asked if any deaf and dumb children would be among the scholars? And on being told it was very likely, as the number of deaf mutes in India is very large, asked if she might send her favorite doll to some Indian girl afflicted in the same way as herself, and was quite delighted when told it should be packed with some books, toys, and other things friends were sending for the mission school, and given with Susie's love to a deaf and dumb child.
I never heard who received the English doll as a present, but writing about Susie's doll reminds me of how much interest I took in a doll only a few days ago. I had been to see an old man who was very ill, suffering great pain from a terrible disease called cancer. He had been ill for a long time, and not able to do any work, so his wife and he were very poor; but I am so glad I can tell you that they both knew the Lord Jesus as their own precious Savior, so there was peace and even joy in that humble home. An orphan grandchild who lives with them, and whose name is Edith, was always much pleased with my visits, and would run to meet me, take my hand in hers, and nestle close up to my side She was very fond of learning easy texts and verses of hymns, and would repeat them in a way that, though a very little girl only six years old, she had begun to think about the meaning of the words.
I had been several times, before I found out that my little friend had not got a doll, though she wished very much for one. My first thought was to buy and dress a doll for Edith. But as I walked home I thought of some girls I know who are quite rich in toys, and who, I felt sure, would like to help me in making Edith a very happy little girl.
Her story was soon told, and it was a real cheer to see in what a loving, wholehearted way Louie, Lottie, Ethel, and Amy set to work. Amy, who will be ten next birthday, said she was getting too old to play with dolls and should not want hers any more, so asked her mamma if she might send her best doll. Permission being given, her sisters dressed it in a very pretty and tasteful way. Edith has a doll now, and I am sure Amy and her sisters have tasted something of the sweetness and joy of doing something for others, remembering, I trust, the words of the Lord Jesus how He said, "It is more blessed to give than to receive." (Acts 20:35.)
Going Home: Chapter 6
DEAF mutes usually remain at school from six to seven years.
Susie was about fifteen, and had been about eight years a pupil at B. when her teachers felt it was time she should leave, and try to do something toward earning her own living, as she had no home to which she could be sent. "But what could she do?" was a question not at all easy to answer.
Several of the elder girls had obtained good situations, others were working at book-folding, dressmaking, and other light trades. But Susie was so very small no one was likely to engage her to do housework, and though fond of children, she was "not strong enough to nurse a baby," the kind matron said, with something between a sigh and a smile, as she looked at Susie.
An attempt was made to teach her straw bonnet work, but after a few weeks' trial it had to be given up as a failure, for though she was willing, and skewed a good deal of intelligence in the way she understood what was required of her, she suffered so much from a cough and pain in her side that the doctor gave it as his opinion that his little friend (as he often called Susie) was far from well, and should not be required to sit closely at any kind of needlework.
So to her great delight Susie was allowed to return to school, "just for a few weeks," her friends said. But the Lord Jesus, who knew better than any one how tired and weak the little girl often was, knew, too, how she longed to be with Him where He is, and who was leading her gently homewards, was about to take her to be with Him in His Father's house. Susie was very near the end of the journey, though I do not think that for a time any of her teachers ever guessed the truth.
Some of her friends thought it would be a good thing if she could be placed in a home, and several were applied to but without success, the managers of some writing to say they were quite full, and did not expect to have any vacancy for a long time; while others declined to receive an inmate whose health was not good. And as Susie still took her place in the schoolroom, and even on sunny days paid a visit to the playground, or took her friend Carrie for a short walk, it hardly seemed desirable to suggest sending her to a hospital, so she was permitted to remain among old friends and young companions till weeks grew into months.
Like many other deaf mutes, Susie was quick to understand much that was going on around her, and the thought of being sent to live among strangers seemed sometimes a real trouble to her.
But on being reminded of the love and care of the Lord for His own, she was much comforted, saying on her fingers, "Yes, Jesus knows, and He loves me. He will not let me be sent away if it is not best for me." And as she made what is called a sign by passing the thumb of one hand quickly over that of the other to express the word best, the anxious look would pass away from her face in a moment, and the smile of peace and even joy come back.
////////////////////////////////////////////////////// P. 51 ILLUSTRATION /////////////////////////////////////////////////////
A KINDERGARTEN SCHOOL FOR THE BLIND.
And little Susie was right, was she not, dear young believer? The love of the Lord Jesus will always do its very best for each on whom it rests. If you and I find it hard sometimes to trust that love when sickness or trouble comes, or when the shadow of a great sorrow lies darkly across our path, the very difficulty only spews how little we really and truly KNOW Him; though I am sure we need not turn away in discouragement, and say we may as well give up altogether.
Ah! you see I know something of the way in which Satan tries to tempt tired or disappointed people, for I have been through it all myself. Only I do not feel so badly about it as I used to do, because I am learning just a little of the tender grace and patience of the One who has said, "My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me: and I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand." (John 10:27, 28.) And I know, too, that the only safe way in which to meet temptation when it comes is to go at once to Jesus, owning Him as my Lord and Master, and tell Him all about it, and then-just trust Him to keep me from falling. Have you ever noticed a verse in the Epistle of Jude that reads: "Now unto him that is able to keep you from falling, and to present you faultless before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy"? (Jude 1:24)
Now, though to be kept from falling may seem to us, as indeed it is, very great and good, it is not enough for the Lord. Those who read their New Testaments in Greek, which is, all of us will remember, the language in which they were written, tell us that the word translated in our Bibles "falling" ought to be "stumbling.”
I love to think of it, for it always seems just like a sweet, low whisper, reminding me that the One to whom I belong has all power, and is just as able to keep me from slipping or stumbling over all or any of the rough places I meet with on the way home as from falling. But the question I often have to ask myself is, Am I willing to be thus kept?
One of Susie's most valued possessions was her Bible. It had been given to her as a reward for having kept a good place in her class during the whole of a school year. She was often found reading it, and the way in which her favorite chapters and verses were marked proved that she had not been a careless reader of the word of God. I wish I could copy one or two of these pencil line verses for you; but for that I must turn to another Bible, one belonging to a young girl who is deaf and dumb-the Mary already named in these chapters.
She brought her Bible to me one day, saying she wanted me to read some verses she had just found. She thought them very beautiful, and did not even know before they were in one of the gospels. They were the words of the Lord recorded by Matthew. "Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father.”
“But the very hairs of your head are all numbered.”
“Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows." (Matt. 10:29-31.)
Susie, who had felt the cold much during the winter, was very pleased when the spring returned with its flowers and sunshine. But the warmth and brightness did not seem to do her any good. Her cough grew worse, and the old pain in the side rarely left her, and was often so severe as to oblige her to leave the schoolroom and lie down. Still she was very patient and cheerful, and would say to Carrie and others who understood her, "I do not think I shall get well; but I am going home, going to see Jesus, and to be with Him forever.”
She seemed very anxious to finish some knitting for which a lady had given her an order. When asked why she worked so hard when not able to sit up for more than a few minutes, Susie replied with a smile, Mrs. M. has been so kind to me that I should be sorry to disappoint her. And the money she promised to give me for the work I should like to be spent in buying a Bible for some poor child who is deaf and dumb.”
Home was very near. Only a day or two after her work was finished she became very ill and unable to rise from her bed, Taking Carrie's hand in hers, she spelled the words, "I think the Lord will take me soon.”
During the few following days she grew worse rapidly; but the Lord, in His own gracious way, kept His little one in perfect peace. Only a few hours before she fell asleep, Carrie, who was sitting by her, asked, "Do you want anything?" Susie replied, "No; only to see Jesus," adding, "Even so, come, Lord Jesus.”
//////////////////////////////////////////////////////// P. 57 ILLUSTRATION /////////////////////////////////////////////////
A BLIND TEACHER READING.
After a few hours of great suffering, the Lord granted her desire, and gently, calmly as a tired child, dear Susie fell asleep to awake in the presence of that precious Savior who had loved her and washed her from her sins in His own blood.
The Young Shipwright: Chapter 7
MOST of the boys I know seem to take a great interest in ships; indeed it was a boy friend of mine who taught me how to distinguish a brig from a schooner or frigate. On a summer evening I have often seen large sheets of water in one or two of our London parks dotted over with white-sailed toy-ships, each carrying a tiny flag and guided in its movements by its owner, who, standing on the bank, or more often ankle-deep in the water, drew his craft to shore or pushed it into deep water by means of a long stick with a hook at one end.
“But would there be much in such a scene as the one I have described to interest a blind boy?" some young reader may ask.
Yes, I think there would, if some seeing friend, who did not mind taking a very little trouble to give a very large amount of pleasure, would tell him what was going on, taking care to give such details as the names of the ships and the colors floating from their masts. And any of us who have begun to taste the joy and sweetness of seeking in our everyday lives to serve and please the Lord Jesus Christ, our Master in heaven, will, I feel sure, be cheered and encouraged by remembering that no service is too small, no kindness shown for His sake and in His name to His little ones too trifling, for His grace to own and bless.
Some of us will, perhaps, be surprised to learn what was done in the way of toy-ship building many years ago by a blind boy, whose only tools were an old knife, a chisel, and a hammer.
Sidney, who thinks a small chest of real tools one of his most precious possessions, says he wonders how it was done: that he would like to hear the whole story; and as I know Fred and Harold will join in asking for it, I may as well begin by telling you that the subject of my story, James Wilson, from a brief account of whose life and work I think we may all learn some lessons of courage and patience, as well as higher ones of simple trust in the love and care of God, was born nearly a hundred and twenty years ago in Virginia, North America. He could see quite well until between four and five years of age, blindness being, in his case, caused by a very severe attack of small-pox.
But as the total loss of sight was only one of several troubles, I must tell you the story of a voyage from America to Ireland, which Mr. Wilson, the father of James, determined to undertake with his wife and little son when the latter was about four years old.
A war having broken out in America, Mr. Wilson lost all his property and became quite a poor man. He had been for some time in failing health, and was advised by the doctor to try a sea voyage. He took passages in a sailing vessel bound for Belfast; but, day by day, Mr. Wilson grew weaker, and died before they had been long at sea. Mrs. Wilson, who had suffered much from sickness and other causes, was very ill at the time of her husband's death. The shock must indeed have been very great, as she only outlived him by about half an hour.
So James was an orphan, having lost both his parents in one day. He was too young fully to understand his loss; but, although he lived to be more than seventy years of age, he never forgot, and often spoke of, that funeral at sea, when the bodies of his father and mother, after being sewn up in hammocks, were lowered over the side of the ship, while the captain, who seems to have been a kind-hearted man, and really sorry for the poor little boy, read some portions of the burial service.
Only a few days later, small-pox broke out on board ship, and James was one of the first attacked. The sailors were very kind to him, moving him with much care. Still, when the disease began to abate, it was found to have destroyed the sight of both eyes. Blind and an orphan, the poor child was much to be pitied. God, "in whom the fatherless findeth mercy" (Hos. 14:3), did not forget little James, but in His own gracious way raised up friends for him. The captain, who must have felt more than a passing interest in his young passenger, placed a sum of money for his benefit in the hands of a friend living at Belfast. James, having been taken on shore, was soon after placed under the care of an old woman living in one of the back streets of the town, who, though poor and ignorant, being unable to read or write, proved faithful to her trust and treated the lonely child with great kindness.
Schools for the blind had not at the time of which I am writing been opened, and as the friends of James did not think it would be of any use to send him to one attended by children who enjoyed the blessing of sight, he was allowed to spend his time much as he liked, and soon learned to find his way not only about the house, but out into the street.
When about nine years of age, a friend gave him a toy model of the Royal George a large ship of war, whose loss off Spithead excited much interest and attention. James was delighted with his present, and never seemed tired of playing with it, passing his fingers lightly over every spar and thread in the rigging. How he longed to make one, and at last made up his mind to try. A neighbor gave him some wood, and he set to work. He did not get on very well at first: sometimes he cut his fingers, or gave them such hard knocks with his hammer that he could not help crying out with the pain.
But he kept on trying, and in time his first ship was ready for her trial trip. She proved such a good sailer, and was so much admired by the boys of the neighborhood, that for some time her builder was kept quite busy making toy ships, often for boys much older than himself. They supplied the wood, &c., and would willingly engage to read or tell stories to their sightless friend while he worked for them.
Many, perhaps most, of the stories to which the blind boy listened so eagerly were foolish and untrue. In after years, when "the grace of God that bringeth salvation" (Titus 2:11) had appeared to James Wilson, he often said few things gave him greater pain than the remembrance of precious time wasted in listening-to such stories. All through life he took a great interest in books of history, travel, and the memoirs of christian men and women, and his memory, being remarkably retentive, enabled him to remember and repeat a great part of every book read to him. In this way he acquired quite a stock of useful knowledge.
His friends would often amuse themselves by testing his powers of memory.
A gentleman once asked him to tell him the names of as many ships as he could remember. James began at once, saying in every case whether the vessel named belonged to the Royal Navy or not, and giving the names of most of their commanders. When he had repeated the names of six hundred and twenty he was told he might stop.
As he grew older he learned, by the aid of a stick, to grope his way, not only through the streets and lanes of Belfast, but to and from all the villages for miles round, and was often employed by tradesmen and others to deliver letters and parcels for them. He proved himself a faithful and often a swift messenger. Many interesting stories are told in his memoir of the way in which the Lord graciously watched over and took care of him, once in a most wonderful way preserving him from death by drowning.
His whole life was one marked by patient industry and hard work. But it is cheering to know that he not only heard but obeyed the Savior's call (Matt. 11:28), and as a lost guilty sinner came to Him for pardon and peace.
//////////////////////////////////////////////////////// P. 67 ILLUSTRATION //////////////////////////////////////////////////////
MAP OF STARS FOR THE BLIND.
Though obliged to work hard for dailybread, and at times very poor, he found time to compose, and induced his friends to write down for him quite a number of papers in poetry and prose, some of which were printed in magazines and newspapers. But by far his most important work was one published under the title of "Remarkable Blind Persons," in the pages of which he tells his readers many interesting facts about the blind, collected with great patience from books written in several languages and at different times.
A Song in the Night: Chapter 8A
DO many blind people live in London?" It was only a few days ago that a friend asked me the above question, and now, dear young reader, I am going to pass it on to you, as I wonder very much what answer you would give.
Bessie tries to count up all the blind she can remember having seen, and says that almost every day on her way home from school she passes an old man who sits in the shelter of a railway arch reading, with sightless eyes but rapid fingers, the raised letters in a book, which she adds is a Bible, embossed in what she has heard called Dr. Moon's type for the blind.
She thinks there may be fifty blind persons in this great city, but Harold shakes his head and says, "Two, or perhaps even three hundred.”
Ah, dear young friends, your guesses are so far below the real number that I think we had better turn to figures for an answer to our question.
About every ten years a great deal of time and trouble are spent on taking what is called a census of the population, &c. From the reports made by the clerks, whose business it is to examine all the papers sent in, we learn many interesting facts about our deaf, dumb and blind friends.
From the census tables of 1881 we learn that while the number of deaf and dumb living at that time in London was one thousand nine hundred and seventy-two, the total number of blind was three thousand two hundred and fourteen. While for England and Wales the number of blind is set down at nearly twenty-three thousand.
Daisy asks almost in a whisper, "Have all these poor sightless people been blind from birth?" No, darling, only about one out of every eleven; at least, so the tables we have been looking at together tell us.
I once heard a lady say that she thought the blind who had never enjoyed the blessing of sight, and so had not known the sorrow of losing it, were not so much afflicted as those who after being able to see became blind from any cause I am not at all sure that I agree with her. Indeed, quite a number of blind persons have told me they were glad and grateful to have even a memory of sight. It was, they said, so easy for them to understand when any one told them of the wonderful and beautiful things which God in His love and wisdom had created.
But now I am going to tell you about some of my blind friends, who, themselves "children of light" (Eph. 5:8), dwell and walk in the light. All dark around them as to the things seen, yet the eyes of faith look out beyond the gloom, and they can truly say, "We see Jesus." (Heb. 2:9.)
Perhaps you would like to hear a little about a school in which all the scholars are blind, so I will tell you all I can remember, just as it was told to me by one who spent some years of her girlhood there. The school is quite a large one, about eighty girls, and I think an equal number of boys, being received at one time.
Maria J. was about twelve years old when she became a pupil. Blind from birth, one of the cases of which the blind themselves speak as "quite dark," she was unable to tell the difference between the brightness of a June day and the gloom of a winter's night.
Very small for her age, and far from being strong, her father who, being by trade a shoemaker, worked at home, had taught his little daughter to read when she was not more than five; so that long' before she went to school the few books she was able to get (in Dr. Moon's embossed type for the blind) had been read by her over and over again.
She was very fond of reading, and also of singing; but perhaps the deepest longing the lonely child knew was one for affection.
I cannot stop to tell you now how the Lord, in His grace, drew her to Himself, leading her gently on until she was enabled to rejoice in knowing her sins all forgiven, as I want you to read some lines composed by herself, in which she tells in simple but touching words of the blessed hope that is hers by faith NOW, of how, for her, the darkness will soon pass away, and she will see the precious Savior who loved and gave Himself for her.
I Shall See: Chapter 8B
“Thine eyes shall see the king in his beauty: they shall behold the land that is very far off."
(Isa. 33:17.)
OH! the day has been a long one,
And a little trying, too:
Hand and brain alike are weary,
They have had so much to do;
But the night brings rest and silence,
Not a sound falls on my ear,
Save the gentle, even ticking
Of the old clock standing near.
I have fetched my precious Bible
From its place upon the shelf,
Feeling glad that with my finger
I can read it for myself;
And I turn its sacred pages
With a tender, reverent touch,
I am searching for a promise
I have learned to love so much:
'Tis a sweet and blessed promise,
And 'tis doubly sweet to me:
For it says the time is coming
When these eyes of mine shall see.
It was written by the prophet
In the ages long ago;
It was God who bade him write it,
Every word is true I know.
These my eyes shall look on Jesus,
That is what the promise tells;
I shall see Him in His beauty,
In the "far land" where He dwells.
I who never in my lifetime
Gazed on any lovely thing,
With a clear and perfect vision
Shall behold my Lord and King.
Christ, the Altogether Lovely,
Christ, our Shepherd good and true,
Christ, my ever blessed Savior,
And my mighty Keeper too.
He will only need to whisper
What He wants to say to me;
I shall be so very near Him,
When these eyes of mine shall see.
Oh! the joy this promise brings me!
What unutterable bliss!
I shall then be safely folded
In those loving arms of His.
Never more shall I be weary,
When I rest in His embrace,
All the darkness will be banished
By the light of His dear face.
For His eyes will beam upon me,
Bright with love-light all divine;
What a large full cup of blessing,
In that moment will be mine.
I shall see Him crowned as Monarch,
See Him seated on His throne;
I shall yield Him all the homage
That is due to Him alone.
What a blessed revelation,
What a wonder it will be,
When the glory bursts upon me,
And these eyes of mine shall see.
I shall keep so close to Jesus,
There will be so much to tell,
I shall talk about the dear ones
I have learned to love so well.
I will tell Him how they cheered me,
How they helped me in my need;
I will lovingly remember
Every little kindly deed.
Many will be there to greet me,
I shall see their faces bright;
We shall all rejoice together
In the glory of that light.
And the dear Lord will reward them,
For the kind things they have done,
For their tender ministrations
To His much-tried suffering one.
I shall praise Him for their friendship,
Which was always sweet to me;
I shall say, "'Twas all His mercy,”
When these eyes of mine shall see.
'Tis a little weary waiting,
For I long to reach my home;
But I must not be impatient,
For it may be He will come
Very soon. Perhaps at midnight,
Or at dawn of morning fair,
Bidding all His blood-bought children
Rise to meet Him in the air.
Oh! it would indeed be glory,
All at once to flit away,
From the darkness and the shadows
Into realms of endless day.
Yet it may be He will guide me
Through death's valley, awful shade!
But I know He will not leave me,
So I shall not be afraid.
I can trust my precious Savior,
For whichever it may be,
He will surely keep His promise,
And I know that I shall see.
M. J.
Dr. Moon's System: Chapter 9
HALL we pay a visit to some of the blind boys and girls we know? Elsie and Katie say they would "like very much to see them at their lessons;" while Ernest wonders if they are as fond of play as we all know he is, and asks if they know any games?
Perhaps the very best way in which to answer all the questions of my young friends will be by telling them a few facts, which I hope they will fiend interesting, about the way or ways-for there are more than one-in which blind children are taught to read, write and work.
Much has been done, and is still being done, by which blind children are enabled to get opportunities to acquire an education almost, if not quite, as good as that of their seeing companions and play fellows.
“Will you tell me something about your school-days?" I said not very long ago to a blind man. As nearly as I can remember, I give in his own words some account of what was taught in schools for the blind twenty or thirty years ago.
“Well, Miss, since you take so much interest in us poor blind people, that you want to know how we were taught to read, I'll try to tell you a little about our school; for as I was nearly six years at Brighton under Dr. Moon, I ought to know a little of what is called his system.
“We were not taught so many things as blind children who are now at school learn, and perhaps the ways of teaching us were not quite so good. But as I am told seeing children, even those whose parents are poor, can, if they try to learn, and are not afraid of a little hard work, get a much better education than their fathers and mothers, I do not think we had much to complain of" When Dr. Moon first began his work of teaching blind people to read, I am sure he found a great many things that gave him a good deal of trouble: one being that four or five different alphabets, all raised or embossed, were used in a good many schools; and as, of course, he wanted the best to be the one used in his schools, he sat down in his study and began to compare them.
//////////////////////////////////////////////////// P. 79 ILLUSTRATION /////////////////////////////////////////////////
DR. MOON'S ALPHABET.
“But the choice was far from being an easy one. He found that, though a few blind persons understood one of these systems well enough to read with ease any book prepared in it, when one in which another alphabet had been used was offered them they passed their fingers over its pages without being able to call a single letter by its right name.
“Books for the use of the blind were very dear, and the number of readers was so few that it hardly seemed worth all the time and trouble needed to print or emboss them.
“Day by day the doctor went on with his work, till an alphabet and easy reading book were ready. Though he received a great deal of valuable help from other teachers of the blind, he made so many changes and improvements that the new books were called by his name, and were largely used not only in his own, but after a few years in by far the greater number of schools for the blind.
“Sometimes blind people, who had lost their sight from illness or accident when quite grown up, called upon Dr. Moon, saying they wished very much to learn to read their Bible, if he did not think them too old to begin. Among these were several who had never been to any school, and who had been employed as farm laborers in plowing, digging, and other out-of-door occupations.
“Dr. Moon was just as willing to teach as these pupils were to learn, but he soon found out that hard work had so thickened the skin of their fingers, that when he tried to teach them the letters of the alphabet they could not, they said, feel any difference in the shape of the letters.
“What was to be done? Try, try again,' to be sure; so the doctor set to work afresh, and in a few weeks what is called Lion Type was ready, the letters of which, being formed in brass wire, could be read with ease by blind persons whose hands were rough and hard.
“As you may suppose, all the boys and girls in Dr. Moon's school were taught to read on his system. Our books were not printed. but what is called embossed with raised 'letters. A few of the elder boys were chosen to assist in the embossing rooms. The work required great care, besides taking a long time. Books prepared in this way were expensive, an entire Bible in Moon's type costing about seven pounds.
“We did not learn much writing, though a few of our number knew how to use what we called a writing-frame, something like a desk covered with a thin pad or cushion, over which a framework of metal bars was placed. A sheet of thin paper laid between the pad and frame is pricked with the required letters of the alphabet by the use of small blocks of hard wood in which points of wire have been so placed as to form Roman capitals.
“What trades were we taught?' did you say. I spent some time as an apprentice to the basket-making, though I never took any great liking to it, and having, like many of the blind, been gifted with a quick ear for music, thought I might be able to earn my living as a musician.
“You will hardly need to be told that I was thinking only of how I could best please myself, for like every other unsaved soul, I was not only a stranger to but an enemy of God, without any real desire to do, or even to know, His will.
“But the Lord had patience with me, and though I wandered far in the paths of sin, He in His grace followed me, gave me eyes of faith to see Him as my own precious Savior, and saved my soul. And though it is all dark as to my outward life, I often find myself saying with one of old, One thing I know, that, whereas I was blind, now I see.' (John 9:25.)
“Since I became a Christian my employment has often given me pain, leading me as it does into places where I am obliged to be much in the company of ungodly men. But all the foolish, idle talk going on round me has no power to hinder my looking up to my Lord in the glory where He now is, and asking Him to close my ears to all that is going on round me, and in His own time and way to open up some means of earning a living, not only for myself, but also for my wife and little girl.
“Basket-making as a trade used to be taught to blind girls as well as boys, but as the canes have to be prepared for use by soaking them in water, and there is a great deal of rough wet work to be done, so many of the girls suffered in health from their employment, that some years ago it was decided to teach it only to boys.
“Making mats and brushes are occupations found very suitable to the blind, while a few are employed as wood-turners. Some very fine knitting is done by blind woman and girls; a shawl knitted in Shetland wool by one or more of the pupils of a school for the blind at Manchester being one of the presents made to the Princess Beatrice on her marriage.”
Braille and Braille Writers: Chapter 10
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 8:12.)
In the Playground: Chapter 11
TAM sure some of you are getting a little tired of our long talk about schools and teachers for the blind, and want to know if it is all work and no play for the poor children in whom many have shown much real interest.
As a rule blind children are more cheerful and easy to amuse than the deaf and dumb. I have known some who were almost as merry and fun-loving as any of my young readers.
“What were the favorite games at your school?" I said one day to a friend who, though she has never enjoyed the precious gift of sight, has tasted the sweetness of the love of Christ, and finding rest and peace in Him, found that through His grace it is quite possible for her life to be happy as well as useful.
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BLIND CHILDREN AT PLAY.
"I am so glad you know blind children like play," she replied, with a smile "Perhaps some of the seeing boys and girls you so often talk to by way of pen-and-ink would enjoy reading one or two short stories of my school-days.
“I was, as you know, nearly twelve years old when I was admitted as a pupil to the blind school, so small that no one ever guessed my age as more than seven or eight. There were about eighty girls at school with me, and you may be sure the large dormitories, with their long rows of little white beds as well as the busy schoolroom, were so new and strange to me that at first I often felt very sad and lonely, and sometimes I used to cry myself to sleep.
“But most of our teachers were kind and patient, and after a few weeks I began to grow more contented. I think I had been about three months at school when the girls began to talk a great deal about the following Monday. It would, they said, be a Bank Holiday, and on it all the girls who had relations and friends living in or near London would be allowed to spend the day with them.
“Some of my classmates told me how they expected their father or grown-up brother would call for them quite early in the day, and after giving them a ride by omnibus or train, take them to their homes; returning with them at an hour we, whose school rule was Early to bed and early to rise,' thought delightfully late.
“Oh, how I envied those happy girls! knowing as I did that no one would be likely to call for me. I am afraid my heart was very full of bitter and rebellious feelings when I awoke on the morning of the holiday, never guessing how much pleasure that day was to bring even for a lonely, almost friendless child like me.
“I was not the only one left at school. After our companions had gone, I found myself with five other little girls the only occupants of the deserted schoolroom. We tried to play, but the games did not go off well, and we were all getting very dull and silent when the sound of a well-known voice in the hall roused us up, as we whispered to each other, It is Mrs. N.'s voice; how we wonder why she came today, when most of the teachers and nearly all the girls are away.'
“But we were not left to wonder long, for the lady, who often visited the school, came into the room, accompanied by one of the teachers who said that as Mrs. N. had kindly invited us to spend the afternoon at her house, we might go at once and get ready for our visit.
“How delighted we were and, after thanking our kind friend, our uniform capes and bonnets were quickly put on, and we were soon ready to start.
“Mrs. N. lived in what seemed to us quite a large house. We were allowed to have tea out in the garden, as the day was fine and warm. I cannot tell you how much we enjoyed our cake and bread-and-butter, and as we drank our tea out of real cups, of course we thought it tasted much nicer than it would out of the thick stone mugs we daily used at school.
“After tea Mrs. N. took us on the lawn, and, after placing us in a row, told us that she wanted all the girls who knew what a daisy was like to hold up one hand. As I used to live in the country when quite a tiny child, and had often gathered daisies when taken by my sisters into the fields, I held up mine at once, so did two or three others. We were then told that quite a number of the pretty white flowers were growing on the lawn, and that we might gather as many as we could find.
“Later in the evening we stood round Mrs. N. and sang the hymns we had learned at school. I remember one quite well. It was:
'There is a green hill far away,
Outside a city wall;
And there the Lord was crucified
Who died to save us all.'
“As we sang, tears filled my eyes and a longing too deep for words came into my heart to know and please the Lord Jesus. Oh, how I wished I could be sure, quite sure, that He really loved me, that He had died for me. I thought if I could only know that I was saved, I should never feel lonely or unhappy any more.
“Now I know that my sins are all forgiven, and soon, perhaps very soon, I shall see, not the poor passing things of earth, but the face of the One 'who loved me, and gave himself for me.'" (Gal. 2:20.)
A gentleman who knew and loved Christ was walking one day along a country road. He stood still for a moment to look at some lovely roses in a cottage garden. While doing so he noticed a boy about nine years of age busily engaged in flying a paper kite. Mr. F., as we will call him, loved children, so he began to talk to the boy; finding, much to his surprise, that the poor little fellow was quite blind, he said to him: “You cannot see your kite, my boy. How is it that you get so much pleasure from playing with it?
The boy replied, with a bright look, "Oh, sir, my father can see my kite, and he says it's a real beauty, and you know I can feel the string pull.”
And as Mr. F. went on his way he thanked God for the cheer and comfort the words of the blind boy had been to him, And faith is the power by which those who have been thus brought to God are enabled to walk through this world as those who are not of it, but as those ought who already belong to the place where Christ now is.
Do we really want to know what the Spirit of that home is? What sort of ways will suit the place to which, if we really believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, we belong?
The Holy Spirit is able and willing to teach the youngest and weakest of Christ's little ones how to please and follow Him, for we have the Lord's own words in the Gospel of John, "He shall glorify me: for he shall receive of mine, and shall show it unto you." (John 16:14.)
How a Little Girl Was Saved: Chapter 12
AS I think many of my young friends would like to read part of a letter I received only a few weeks ago, from one of my scholars, I will copy it for you. She writes:
“DEAR TEACHER,
“I was so glad to get your letter, and thank you very much for asking me to tell you if I am saved. I am so thankful that I can answer Yes to your question, and mamma says she thinks you would like to hear a little about my conversion.
“I was just nine years old when I came to Jesus. I am eleven now, so it is two years ago. But I think I shall always remember all about it.
“It was one evening; mamma had gone out, leaving us children in the care of a servant whose name was Ann. She was a christian girl, and mamma always felt she could trust her. We were getting tired of play, when Ann asked us if we would like to go into the kitchen and have a meeting all to ourselves.
“We said Yes, and Ann read to us out of the Bible about how much the Lord Jesus had to suffer that we might be saved. 1 could not help crying, for though I had heard it all before, I had never thought it was for my sins the Savior died. But that very night I trusted myself to 'Christ, and He saved me.
“This is quite a long letter, but I wanted you to know how a little girl in your class was saved. Please excuse mistakes, and believe me “Your very loving "AMY.”
The writer of the letter you have just read can hear the glad tidings of salvation. And now, as I know Lily and Grace will ask me for "just one more story," I am going to tell you about the way in which a deaf mute was led to a saving knowledge of Christ as her own precious Savior.
But before I tell you her story, I should like us to look together at some Bible words. We shall find them in the fourth chapter of the Book of Exodus.
“And the Lord said unto him, Who hath made man's mouth? or who maketh the dumb, or deaf, or the seeing, or the blind? have not I the Lord?" (Exo 4:11.)
Perhaps, as we have all read the chapter, we are ready to answer one or two questions and say the words were spoken by God to His servant Moses; and though the question may have seemed a strange one, I think it must have been a precious promise of support and strength to the man He was going to send and use as His messenger to the proud king of Egypt.
Bessie F. was the child of Christian parents. I think it was their love for their little girl that made it so very hard for them to believe that the child on whom father, mother, brothers and sisters lavished so much love was quite deaf. Bessie was so quick to notice, and seemed such a healthy, happy child, that it was not till she was nearly three years old they gave up the hope that she would in time learn to talk like other children.
An elder sister taught her to talk on her fingers, and found the little girl a very quick and willing pupil. She soon learned to spell words, and had made some progress in reading and writing, long before she was old enough to be placed as a weekly boarder in a school for deaf mutes.
Only the teaching of the Holy Spirit could make Bessie wise unto salvation, and those who loved her best prayed that she might be early taught of God, not only to see and own herself a lost, sinful child, but led to trust simply to the Lord Jesus.
When ten or eleven years old, Bessie always showed a great desire to go with her sister to the gospel preaching, and would pay great attention while what was said was being interpreted for her. Her questions, too, showed a real desire to understand what she was told. Her sister often felt encouraged to hope that her darling Bessie was really one of the Lord's little ones, and prayed that she might have faith and courage to confess Him.
One evening, during an address on the coming of the Lord, Bessie, who had been watching her sister's fingers with more than usual interest, burst into tears, and on her way home said on her fingers: "Jesus died for me; He loves me; and I hope He will come very soon, for He would take me. Sure? yes, I am quite sure," she added with a smile, and making the sign used by deaf mutes.
From that time she never seemed to have a doubt or fear, resting like a happy child on the word of Him who said, "My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me: and I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand." (John 10:27, 28.) She rejoiced in the Lord, while from day to day it seemed more and more her desire to please the One who had loved her and washed her from her sins in His own blood.
She sheaved a great love for the Lord's people, often asking when strangers came to the house if they loved Christ; and when the answer was Yes, she seemed happy and at home with them, even when they did not know or understand her finger-talking.
Her love to Christ shone out in her everyday life in many ways. It was plain to those around that she was learning of Him. The thought of being with Him where He is gave her real, deep joy. She loved to speak of heaven as her home, and would say, "I don't think the Lord will leave me here long. He knows I would much rather go to heaven than stay here; though I love you all very much, I love my Savior more, and I want to see His face and hear His voice, for you know I shall not be deaf when I am at home with Christ.”
And the Lord, who as the good Shepherd cares so tenderly for His lambs, gave Bessie her desire. Her journey was only a short one, for when she was about fourteen years of age He gently took her to Himself.
From the beginning of her illness she seemed to think she would not get well, and though at times she suffered much pain, the Lord in His grace kept her in perfect peace. Her sister wrote to a friend: "It is quite a pleasure to wait on our dear Bessie, she is so cheerful and patient.”
On the last day of her life, when the watchers by her bed thought her sinking fast, she slept for a short time, and on awaking she looked round her, as if not quite sure where she was. After a few moments she spelled "Disappointed" on her fingers, then lay back with closed eyes, as if just waiting for the Lord to put her to sleep.
She had not long to wait, for in about two hours her spirit, absent from the body, was present with the Lord.
And now before you lay down this little book, and run off to your lessons or your play, I want to ask each dear boy or girl who has lingered over its pages just one question. Oh, please do not go away without answering it.
Are you saved by simple faith in the Savior, of whom you have so often heard and read? Saved for His glory, for His praise; saved to live for Him now, and soon-it may be very soon-to be with Him in the place where He now is?
The Bible tells us all may come,
And drink at mercy's stream;
That Jesus soon shall share His home
With all who trust in Him.
Courtesy of BibleTruthPublishers.com. Most likely this text has not been proofread. Any suggestions for spelling or punctuation corrections would be warmly received. Please email them to: BTPmail@bibletruthpublishers.com.