CHAPTER XIX

"Toutes les bonnes maximes sont dans le monde, on ne manque qu'à les appliquer."—Pascal, 391.

The education of blind children had occupied Bessie's thoughts for many years. So far back as 1863 she had been in communication with Mr. Lonsdale of the National Society, inquiring as to the State aid given to industrial schools, and the conditions under which schools for the blind could be certified so as to secure the benefit of the Acts. She had begun in her usual careful and systematic way by obtaining all the available statistics of existing schools; and now in view of a new and enlarged scheme for the general education of the poor, the time seemed to have arrived for action. She resolved to lay before those in authority the needs of the blind, their number, the possibility of minimising their affliction, and by means of adequate education opening to them avenues of employment and independence. This work engrossed her time and thoughts in 1869 and the early months of 1870.

The co-operation of all societies working on behalf of the blind was necessary. It was essential to submit to the ministers of the Crown such reliable evidence as to the number of blind children, and the urgency of their claims, as to make it impossible that they should be overlooked in any adequate system of education for the people.

Bessie sent out in the first place a Memorandum to all institutions for the blind in Great Britain, and to several influential and friendly members of Parliament. In this she set forth the step she proposed to take, asked for suggestions, conditions, additions, alterations, or proposed omissions in the petition, of which a copy was enclosed; for information as to presenting it, for support and assistance in the labour involved. She also asked the opinion of those to whom she wrote as to the best method of procedure, whether by petition to Parliament or by a memorial to the Lords of the Privy Council.

The replies which she received were very encouraging, and she found that general opinion was in favour of a Memorial. The document was prepared, and copies of it were submitted for approval, together with a circular letter. A private letter written by Bessie herself to the authorities, and to all influential friends, accompanied the printed documents. She sent these papers to the Oxford Street shop to be folded and addressed, and as an example of her minute care, the following episode is of interest.

Amongst her papers there is the copy of instructions sent to Oxford Street, after she had inspected the circulars. She writes that the titles of institutions must be copied from the list she had previously furnished, that full titles must be used in the Memorials to institutions and to private individuals, and that abbreviations are only admissible on the envelopes. She gives instructions for writing out afresh all those memorials in which she had found the titles to be abbreviated.

These preliminaries occupied the early months of 1869. The Memorial was completed and sent up in July, and Lord de Grey promised to receive a Deputation in support of it. Bessie drew up a list of the names of those members of Parliament and influential members of her own and of kindred institutions who should be invited to form the Deputation. All arrangements being made, the Deputation met at the Westminster Palace Hotel, on the 10th of February 1870, and proceeded thence to the Education Office. Bessie, with other ladies, remained at the hotel, and subsequently received a report of the proceedings.

Earl de Grey and Ripon, Lord President of the Privy Council, with whom was Mr. Forster, received the Deputation. The representatives of twenty-nine institutions for the blind were present, and also Lord Houghton, Lord Manvers, Dean Hook, Sir James Hamilton, Admiral Ryder, Admiral Sotheby, General J. Graham, and the following members of Parliament: Messrs. D. M'Laren', Beresford Hope, H. Woods, W. J. Mitford, W. D.Murphy, F. Wheelhouse, Sir J. Anson, and Lt.-Colonel Gray.

Lord Houghton introduced the Deputation, and said they desired to impress on Lord de Grey the advisability of giving all possible consideration to the Memorial presented by Miss Gilbert in the previous July, praying that a large number of Her Majesty's subjects who, at birth or afterwards, were deprived of sight, should have a fair share of protection and interest in any measure of general education which might be designed by the Government. It was most desirable that a class which was so helpless should receive the best consideration which could be given to their condition.

Dean Hook spoke in support of the object of the Deputation, and many of the members of Parliament and others who were present gave information as to the condition of the blind in different parts of the country.

Lord de Grey asked several questions as to the instruction which the blind received, and said he would carefully consider the representations made to him by so important and influential a Deputation. He said there were many points connected with institutions for the blind which placed them in a different category from the elementary schools which it was the object of the parliamentary grant to aid. Other questions were involved, and other institutions might put forth claims, as, for example, those for the deaf and dumb. It would be the duty of the Council to weigh most seriously the practicability of the Memorial, and he assured theDeputation that they had the utmost sympathy of Mr. Forster and himself.

Upon this Lord Houghton thanked Lord de Grey for his courtesy, and the Deputation withdrew.

There was no immediate action as the result of the labour of a whole year, and probably no special action on behalf of a class, however afflicted, can be expected from the Government of a country. But Bessie's work was not unproductive. She tried to show, and succeeded in showing, that the blind need not be separated and isolated. Her own example and her own life demonstrated this, and pleaded more powerfully than words could do. If the time ever comes when blind children are duly provided for in our schools, and blind men and women in our workshops, it will be chiefly owing to the lifelong endeavours of Bessie Gilbert, and to her unfaltering and earnest devotion to a cause that she thought worthy of living for and, if need be, of dying for.

The condition of her own health had now become very serious. After the Memorial had been sent in and before the Deputation was received Bessie was so exhausted, and movement had become so difficult and painful, that Dr. Little was consulted on her behalf.

He pronounced the spine to be in fault, ordered a mechanical support, tonics, regular exercise, much rest in a recumbent position, and recommended Folkstone and sea air for some months. Bessie followed his directions most obediently. She was very brave in bearing the discomfort andoftentimes the pain of the cumbersome "support." She persevered in walking for an hour daily according to his orders, dragging herself along with great difficulty, and getting so heated and overtired that the sister who accompanied her thought the walk did more harm than good. But she had been told to do it, and with the old submission to authority she did it. Her faithful attendant, Charlotte Gadney, was also with her at Folkstone from the end of July to October. She spent much time out of doors, on the Lees, in a bath chair. By the autumn she and those with her were convinced that, in spite of rest and care, she could not walk so well as she had done in the spring. There was much reading aloud, for she was compelled to allow herself more time than usual for relaxation.

The sisters especially remember her enjoyment of George MacDonald'sRobert Falconer. In later times, if any one spoke of violins or violinists, she would say "Ah, do you rememberMy Beautiful Lady?" She heard parts ofSir Gibbiealso; and said ofJanet, "She realises most fully the truth that we are indeed all members one of another."

There were several pleasant days to stand out in after years as associated with the months spent at Folkstone. One of these was a day at Saltwood with Canon and Mrs. Erskine Knollys. Bessie drove there, and then the Canon himself wheeled her in an arm-chair to the American Garden. Even in late autumn this was very beautiful, and she enjoyed the description of it.An afternoon at Cheriton with Mr. and Mrs. Knatchbull-Hugessen was also a great pleasure to her. At this time riding in a carriage was not only no fatigue, but she was able to enjoy long drives and all that they brought within her reach.

She returned to Chichester and London in somewhat better health, and resumed work on behalf of the Deputation.

Whilst she was at Folkstone her time was chiefly occupied in writing letters, and in reply to one of her petitions she heard from General Knollys that "it would afford the Prince of Wales much satisfaction to be placed on the list of Vice-Patrons of the Society in aid of the Blind;" and also "that H. R. H. had been pleased to direct him to enclose a cheque for twenty-five guineas in aid of the funds of the Society."

The following letter, which she received at this time from Pennsylvania, interested her:

To Miss Gilbert.No. 1040 Penn Street,Reading, Pennsylvania, U.S.A.,13th September 1869.I take the liberty of addressing you as one who has taken so philanthropic an interest in the blind. About the mid-winter of '62-3 I was travelling in Idaho Territory, and, owing to the severe effects of the "glare" produced by the sun's rays upon the snow, my sight received so severe a shock that I became temporarily blind. Afterwards I partially recovered my sight; but through the want of skill in my medical attendant and general improper treatment, the optic nerve became entirely and, as I fear,hopelessly paralysed. I am now completely deprived of sight. Being thus, unfortunately, among those with whom you so greatly sympathise, I too, losing in my full-grown manhood, this perhaps most benign of the Great Father's gifts to poor humanity, feel a strong personal interest in my fellow-sufferers.Understanding then that you have successfully established an "Association for the General Welfare of the Blind," in which each occupant is finally paid for his labour, in contradistinction to the usual plan of blind asylums, where there is no remuneration, except what education may afford, I purpose attempting a similar enterprise.Will I therefore be taxing your kindness too much in asking you to forward to me to this place (as headed) the last report of your noble institution, and, if not contained therein, such instructions as will enable me to establish such institution in this country? And praying that the Good God may prosper you in your benevolent designs, I remain, with the greatest respect, your obt. servt.,Theodore B. Vache.

To Miss Gilbert.

No. 1040 Penn Street,Reading, Pennsylvania, U.S.A.,13th September 1869.

I take the liberty of addressing you as one who has taken so philanthropic an interest in the blind. About the mid-winter of '62-3 I was travelling in Idaho Territory, and, owing to the severe effects of the "glare" produced by the sun's rays upon the snow, my sight received so severe a shock that I became temporarily blind. Afterwards I partially recovered my sight; but through the want of skill in my medical attendant and general improper treatment, the optic nerve became entirely and, as I fear,hopelessly paralysed. I am now completely deprived of sight. Being thus, unfortunately, among those with whom you so greatly sympathise, I too, losing in my full-grown manhood, this perhaps most benign of the Great Father's gifts to poor humanity, feel a strong personal interest in my fellow-sufferers.

Understanding then that you have successfully established an "Association for the General Welfare of the Blind," in which each occupant is finally paid for his labour, in contradistinction to the usual plan of blind asylums, where there is no remuneration, except what education may afford, I purpose attempting a similar enterprise.

Will I therefore be taxing your kindness too much in asking you to forward to me to this place (as headed) the last report of your noble institution, and, if not contained therein, such instructions as will enable me to establish such institution in this country? And praying that the Good God may prosper you in your benevolent designs, I remain, with the greatest respect, your obt. servt.,

Theodore B. Vache.

A bright letter to the present writer shows Bessie in a playful mood. It was written after her return from Folkstone, and when health and spirits were much better than they had been in July. But locomotion had become very difficult; and it was painful to witness her laboured efforts to move and walk, and the difficulty she experienced in getting into or out of a cab or carriage.

The Palace, Chichester,October 1869.My dear F.—I hope you will soon receive another polling paper. I suppose you did not pay your subscription last year, and so paid for two years in one. If I were as clever as Mr. Lowe perhaps I should contrive tosqueeze a little more out of our subscribers, and make them all the while feel that it was the most natural thing in the world that they should make double payments. This is the way to do business, is it not? Double payments, bringing about double receipts; very nice thing, you know, for the receivers; and as to the other side of the question, why, you know, we needn't look too closely into that. You see many persons are quite unable to look at more than one side of a question, so that limited views have their advantages. Does Mr. Lowe think so?Well, I should hope very much to see you and Miss B. on Thursday, and if you can't have me, please just write to 210 Oxford Street and say so, and then I will tell you where to come. I don't know yet where I shall be, but very probably at Miss R.'s at 117 Gloster Terrace. Love to Miss B. From yours affectionately,E. Gilbert.

The Palace, Chichester,October 1869.

My dear F.—I hope you will soon receive another polling paper. I suppose you did not pay your subscription last year, and so paid for two years in one. If I were as clever as Mr. Lowe perhaps I should contrive tosqueeze a little more out of our subscribers, and make them all the while feel that it was the most natural thing in the world that they should make double payments. This is the way to do business, is it not? Double payments, bringing about double receipts; very nice thing, you know, for the receivers; and as to the other side of the question, why, you know, we needn't look too closely into that. You see many persons are quite unable to look at more than one side of a question, so that limited views have their advantages. Does Mr. Lowe think so?

Well, I should hope very much to see you and Miss B. on Thursday, and if you can't have me, please just write to 210 Oxford Street and say so, and then I will tell you where to come. I don't know yet where I shall be, but very probably at Miss R.'s at 117 Gloster Terrace. Love to Miss B. From yours affectionately,

E. Gilbert.

At this time Bessie was warmly interested in, and very hopeful as to the results of, Mr. Gladstone's efforts on behalf of Ireland, and referred frequently to the subject. In the following letter to her sister, Mrs. Elliot, there is a mention of orders for work. She was unable on account of the state of her health to write as much as usual, and therefore gave more time to knitting vests and muffetees, and making watch chains. The money received for them went to her "work-bag," and helped to relieve the necessities of deserving blind people:

The Palace, Chichester,23d December 1869.My dear Kate—I send you my loving Christmas greetings with some of the home violets to sweeten them withal. It was very tantalising seeing you, or rather not seeing you, like that in London. I was so glad youthought I moved better. I do, and it is such a comfort I can't tell you. Still I find a difference directly if I get too much tired. I had hoped to have had some muffetees ready for you, but must do them afterwards, as I have had to knit two under-vests as an order, and have not yet finished the second. You cannot think how wonderfully well papa got through the ordination. Dr. Heurtley, who presided, was quite astonished. Only think of it, H. is coming on Monday for a week. I am so very glad of it. No time for more, your loving sister,Bessie Gilbert.

The Palace, Chichester,23d December 1869.

My dear Kate—I send you my loving Christmas greetings with some of the home violets to sweeten them withal. It was very tantalising seeing you, or rather not seeing you, like that in London. I was so glad youthought I moved better. I do, and it is such a comfort I can't tell you. Still I find a difference directly if I get too much tired. I had hoped to have had some muffetees ready for you, but must do them afterwards, as I have had to knit two under-vests as an order, and have not yet finished the second. You cannot think how wonderfully well papa got through the ordination. Dr. Heurtley, who presided, was quite astonished. Only think of it, H. is coming on Monday for a week. I am so very glad of it. No time for more, your loving sister,

Bessie Gilbert.

Bishop Gilbert's health had slowly but very steadily declined after the death of his wife in 1863. He was surrounded by the loving care of daughters devoted to him. But the loss of the friend and partner of his whole life was one from which he never recovered.

Bessie was the only member of the family not keenly alive to the failure of her father's health. Partly, no doubt, owing to her blindness, and partly to the effort that the Bishop always made to be bright and cheerful in the society of his "dear child Bessie," she did not perceive how seriously the burden of work and responsibility told upon him. The sisters at home were glad to spare her the anxiety which they felt, and she passed the Christmas time of 1869-70 without alarm and without that sense of impending loss which was weighing heavily upon others. When at last the blow came it fell suddenly, and fell heavily upon her, and was not softened by any sense of relief that the burden of his life was removed.

She had gone to London for the Deputationto Lord de Grey on the 10th of February 1870, and was still there when she was summoned to Chichester by telegram on Sunday the 20th.

The sisters at home had been conscious for some days of a greater sense of uneasiness than usual, but there was nothing definite to take hold of. The Bishop came down as usual to the dining-room on Friday the 18th. On Saturday the 19th he kept his room for the early part of the day, and dined in the morning-room, that room adjoining his own in which Bessie used to spend so much time with her mother when first they went to Chichester. The absent sons and daughters were informed of this failure of strength on Saturday morning, but there were no alarming symptoms until the evening. Then and on the following morning, Sunday the 20th, telegrams summoned them to Chichester without delay. Bessie reached the palace about 10P.M.on Sunday. Her father recognised her, but he was by that time too weak to speak. There were no last words, and he sank peacefully to his rest, dying at 5A.M.on Monday, 21st February 1870.

Bessie had left home without even a suspicion that she might be recalled by a sudden summons, and now it seemed to her impossible that her father's death should precede her own, and that a loss that she had not dared even to think of, should have fallen upon her. She was stunned by the blow, but she bore it with characteristic and Christian courage, patience, and submission.

"The grave is heaven's golden gate,And rich and poor around it wait."—Blake.

"The grave is heaven's golden gate,

And rich and poor around it wait."—Blake.

It was deemed undesirable for Bessie to remain at Chichester during the sad week that followed the death of her father. She went to her elder sister, Mary, the beloved Mary of her youth, now the mother of a family and head of a large household.

She wrote with her own hand a short note to one of the sisters at the palace, which reassured them as to her condition.

Milton Hill,28th March 1870.My dear Sarah—Thank you for all your letters. As you say, all the preparations must be painful, but I am very thankful to hear you and Nora are pretty well. You know without my telling you so, how very much you are in my thoughts. I hope to come back Tuesday or Wednesday, but Mary wants me to stay. Is it so, that we need not go till after Easter? I should like to know, because of what I may have to do about my own things. I think the appointment seems very good. As for me I am rather better to-day, having slept better two nights;but it is difficult to me as yet to do things, I have so little energy or interest in anything. I will write again about my coming. Mary is really pretty well I think, the last day or two have been much pleasanter. Love to you all from your loving sisterBessie.

Milton Hill,28th March 1870.

My dear Sarah—Thank you for all your letters. As you say, all the preparations must be painful, but I am very thankful to hear you and Nora are pretty well. You know without my telling you so, how very much you are in my thoughts. I hope to come back Tuesday or Wednesday, but Mary wants me to stay. Is it so, that we need not go till after Easter? I should like to know, because of what I may have to do about my own things. I think the appointment seems very good. As for me I am rather better to-day, having slept better two nights;but it is difficult to me as yet to do things, I have so little energy or interest in anything. I will write again about my coming. Mary is really pretty well I think, the last day or two have been much pleasanter. Love to you all from your loving sister

Bessie.

She returned to the palace but did not stay long, and spent the greater part of the two months of preparation for leaving Chichester with her sister, Mrs. Woods. She went, however, to her old home in April, and left it finally with her brother and two unmarried sisters on the 21st of April 1870.

Loving words greeted them on the day of their departure. "Wherever we are," wrote one of the sisters, "we shall all know that we are thinking of each other."

The house in Queen Anne Street was let at this time; two sisters went to St. Leonards, but Bessie, with her faithful maid, took the much shorter and easier journey to Slinfold Rectory, near Horsham, the home of her sister Lucy, Mrs. Sutton.

She was sad and in very feeble health. All the future seemed dark and uncertain; she could make no plans, she could not look forward. At such a time the tender and loving care of Mr. and Mrs. Sutton were very precious to her. Insensibly, almost unconsciously, she was helped by the numerous children around her. Living in their midst she learnt to know them intimately, and they cheered her and amused her. The little boys had quaint ways and odd sayings, and theymade her forget herself and listen to them and wonder at them. The eldest girl, also a Lucy, had always been a pet, and now became very dear to her. From Slinfold she went to her sister Fanny, Mrs. Casson, at Torquay, and there found another kind brother-in-law, another large family of nephews and nieces, all ready to love and to wait upon the dear "Aunt Bessie." Four homes, in all of which she was a welcome and honoured guest, were thus open to her. Hitherto her time had been divided between London and Chichester. She had not allowed herself the luxury of visits to married sisters, and had only seen them and their children on the occasion of their visits to the palace or London. Now she began to be intimate with them, to be interested in the character and dispositions of the young people, and to enjoy the family life of which one and all helped to make her feel she was a member.

Meantime old and dear friends gathered around her and sought to comfort and encourage her. She preserved many letters which she prized and had found helpful. One of the first to speak was the Rev. H. Browne, who held the living of Pevensey. He was one of the Bishop's chaplains, the author ofOrdo Sæclorum, a student of German theology, and, that which most attracted Bessie, he was a very good reader, and at Chichester had often read aloud Shakespere's plays to thesisterhood. Mr. Browne now was the first to strike a note to which she could respond:

He rests from his labours and his works do follow him. Yours remain. It is needless for me to say it, for you must all know it better than I, he counted it among his mercies that a work had been raised up for you, which when father and mother were gone would be to you the work and the blessing of your life. He evidently acknowledged this as God's calling to you, and as one of the thoughts in which he was greatly comforted in looking forward upon your future life.

Many other writers dwelt upon the unsparing labour and self-denying zeal of her father, and all recognised that she, the daughter so near his heart and always the object of his most tender love and watchful care, must be the one most deeply stricken by the pain of separation.

"To you, I imagine, the blow will come heaviest," wrote Mrs. Powell; and this sentiment is repeated in almost every letter.

A letter from the Secretary of her own Association, informing her of a vote of condolence passed by the Committee, begins, oddly enough, with

"I have thepleasureto inform you,"

The blind workmen and workwomen did their best to express their regret at the death of "his lordship the Bishop," and a note is enclosed to her by the Rev. B. Hayley, written by a poor fellow in the Chichester Union, "just to show what the poor, the very poorest in the diocese, think of your dear father."

The Rev. Dr. Swainson, Canon of Chichester, now Master of Christ's College, Cambridge, heard that Bessie's grief was heightened by the fact thatshe had spent the last fortnight before her father's death in London, engrossed by the work of the Deputation to Lord de Grey. His letter of sympathy and consolation may be as helpful to others as it was to her, and it is therefore inserted unabridged.

Springfield,Newnham,Cambridge,30th March 1870.My dear Miss Gilbert—I hope you will permit me to write you a few lines on the subject which I hear from many quarters has caused you much additional sorrow in regard to the death of our dear father in God. I mean your absence from Chichester during the last fortnight of his life. I really do not know that you should regret it: because it was really of God's appointment: you were engaged over your work for Him: your sisters over their work for Him: your dear father over his work for Him: each and all to the best of your powers, and why should you repine if it pleased God to remove him so quietly, so gently, so lovingly, without telling you beforehand that He was going thus to take him? May you not rejoice rather that his last days of consciousness were filled with thoughts that you were able to go on with that work in which he took so deep an interest, that some have thought that the best memorial of the love of the diocese to him would be an effort to strengthen your hands in that work? Of course I have often thought of the way in which my dearest father and dearest mother were taken away from me. I was absent from both: but I could not regret my absence. Mrs. Swainson was present at the removal of both her parents: but was not all this of God's appointment? When we ask Him to guide us day by day, may we not leave it to Him how He guides us? I am sure you will excuse me writing thus: the loss is indescribable, the centre of your earthly affections removed: on thisI need not speak. But I feel sure that you need not and you should not take any blame to yourself, because your work carried you away at the time when God, who so arranged it, was pleased to call your father home.—Believe me to be, my dear Miss Gilbert, ever yours very truly,C. A. Swainson.

Springfield,Newnham,Cambridge,30th March 1870.

My dear Miss Gilbert—I hope you will permit me to write you a few lines on the subject which I hear from many quarters has caused you much additional sorrow in regard to the death of our dear father in God. I mean your absence from Chichester during the last fortnight of his life. I really do not know that you should regret it: because it was really of God's appointment: you were engaged over your work for Him: your sisters over their work for Him: your dear father over his work for Him: each and all to the best of your powers, and why should you repine if it pleased God to remove him so quietly, so gently, so lovingly, without telling you beforehand that He was going thus to take him? May you not rejoice rather that his last days of consciousness were filled with thoughts that you were able to go on with that work in which he took so deep an interest, that some have thought that the best memorial of the love of the diocese to him would be an effort to strengthen your hands in that work? Of course I have often thought of the way in which my dearest father and dearest mother were taken away from me. I was absent from both: but I could not regret my absence. Mrs. Swainson was present at the removal of both her parents: but was not all this of God's appointment? When we ask Him to guide us day by day, may we not leave it to Him how He guides us? I am sure you will excuse me writing thus: the loss is indescribable, the centre of your earthly affections removed: on thisI need not speak. But I feel sure that you need not and you should not take any blame to yourself, because your work carried you away at the time when God, who so arranged it, was pleased to call your father home.—Believe me to be, my dear Miss Gilbert, ever yours very truly,

C. A. Swainson.

The Bishop of Rochester wrote, "His course, ever since he has been a bishop, has been so straightforward, so true, that he has won everybody's admiration and respect."

These and other tributes Bessie preserved and treasured. They helped her, and after a time they comforted her. In May we have one of the first letters written by her own hand, and speaking of her own feelings. It is addressed to a dear friend of the early Oxford days.

Slinfold Rectory, Horsham,1st May 1870.My dear Mrs. Burrowes—I was very grateful for your most kind affectionate letter, although I have not written to tell you so. For some time I really could hardly do anything. No loss in the world could be what this loss is to me. I am always wanting him, always missing him, still I am now better able to feel the blessedness for him, and also better able to think of his being spared suffering and infirmity, which would probably have increased; and yet in spite of all this I often cannot help feeling how my heart would rebound with life if I could know that he could be here again with us. But I long for the hope of being with him to grow stronger and stronger, so that it may be more and more a living power within me, and a real comfort. I am much better and stronger than I was; but cannot say much for my powers of walking. I cannot say that I take much interest in things yet, and am often oppressedwith a feeling of the dreary length of the days without seeing him or hearing anything about him; but as you so kindly say in your letter I shall hope, when able to do so, to work better than I have done if God will grant me help to strengthen me for this work. I did go up from hence to London for the day for our May Committee, and am very glad I did so, and made a beginning of taking up the work again. I have also done a little towards it in other ways, but just now my own nice maid is having a little holiday, and instead Mrs. Gadney is with me; she cannot write much, while I am not up to much business yet. Lucy, I am sure, would send you her love, but I am writing in my room. She would have written to you, but that I said I would do so myself, as I had intended for some time to write and thank you for your very affectionate letter.... Believe me, my dear Mrs. Burrowes, yours affectionately,Bessie Gilbert.

Slinfold Rectory, Horsham,1st May 1870.

My dear Mrs. Burrowes—I was very grateful for your most kind affectionate letter, although I have not written to tell you so. For some time I really could hardly do anything. No loss in the world could be what this loss is to me. I am always wanting him, always missing him, still I am now better able to feel the blessedness for him, and also better able to think of his being spared suffering and infirmity, which would probably have increased; and yet in spite of all this I often cannot help feeling how my heart would rebound with life if I could know that he could be here again with us. But I long for the hope of being with him to grow stronger and stronger, so that it may be more and more a living power within me, and a real comfort. I am much better and stronger than I was; but cannot say much for my powers of walking. I cannot say that I take much interest in things yet, and am often oppressedwith a feeling of the dreary length of the days without seeing him or hearing anything about him; but as you so kindly say in your letter I shall hope, when able to do so, to work better than I have done if God will grant me help to strengthen me for this work. I did go up from hence to London for the day for our May Committee, and am very glad I did so, and made a beginning of taking up the work again. I have also done a little towards it in other ways, but just now my own nice maid is having a little holiday, and instead Mrs. Gadney is with me; she cannot write much, while I am not up to much business yet. Lucy, I am sure, would send you her love, but I am writing in my room. She would have written to you, but that I said I would do so myself, as I had intended for some time to write and thank you for your very affectionate letter.... Believe me, my dear Mrs. Burrowes, yours affectionately,

Bessie Gilbert.

Miss Mackenzie, sister of Bishop Mackenzie, wrote:

I shall never forget his kind fatherliness and his beautiful courtesy and his loving thoughtfulness for every one. What a comfort it is to have all that to look back upon, but now whilst it is all so fresh your hearts must bleed. Dear Bessie, I am so thankful you have your work, your calling, your vocation to attend to, and in trying to alleviate the troubles of others, as you have always done, you will find the best relief to your own sorrow.

The letters from those she loved, whilst full of sympathy, also dwelt upon the call and claim of duty, in the fulfilment of which Bessie could alone find peace. She struggled bravely to respond, but the task before her was more difficult than any that she had yet accomplished; and therewas no renewal of physical power, even when she began to recover from the shock of her great sorrow. She paid many visits with her sisters, and returned to Queen Anne Street in August 1871. The change in her health was at that time painfully evident to her friends in London. She moved slowly, with difficulty, and was easily exhausted by slight fatigue. Still she resumed her work for the blind, as we find by a letter from the Dean of Westminster [Dean Stanley] written on the 22d of June 1871. He informs her that he will have much pleasure in acceding to her request to preach on behalf of the Association for the Blind on Sunday morning, 23d July, at Whitehall.

In reply to an appeal to Mr. Ruskin, made somewhat later, she received the following characteristic answer:

Denmark Hill, S.E.,2d September 1871.Madam—I am obliged by your letter, and I deeply sympathise with all the objects of the Institution over which you preside. But one of my main principles of work is that every one must do their best and spend their all in their own work, and mine is with a much lower race of sufferers than you plead for—with those who "have eyes and see not."—I am, madam, your faithful servant,J. Ruskin.The Lady President of the Association forPromoting the Welfare of the Blind.

Denmark Hill, S.E.,2d September 1871.

Madam—I am obliged by your letter, and I deeply sympathise with all the objects of the Institution over which you preside. But one of my main principles of work is that every one must do their best and spend their all in their own work, and mine is with a much lower race of sufferers than you plead for—with those who "have eyes and see not."—I am, madam, your faithful servant,

J. Ruskin.

The Lady President of the Association forPromoting the Welfare of the Blind.

In the autumn of 1871 Bessie joined a great gathering of the Gilbert family at Heversham for the celebration of the marriage of the rector, theiryoungest brother, the "Tom" of early days. She returned to spend a few months only in Queen Anne Street, for she and two sisters had taken a house in Stanhope Place, Hyde Park, which was to be their future home.

The Queen Anne Street house was associated in many ways with Bessie's life and work in London, with the visits to her of the blind workpeople, with the early days of the Association, with the growth and development of the objects that had engrossed her life. Perhaps it was dearer to her than either the Oxford or the Chichester home. Certainly the wrench of separation was more painful than any previous one had been; and she had less hope and energy for the unknown future that was before her.

When the change of house had been accomplished she paid a visit to Mrs. Bowles, at Milton Hill, but this did little to restore her exhausted energy. During May and June 1872 there was a marked deterioration in her condition; she walked with greater difficulty, could not rise from a chair without assistance, and before the end of June had to be carried up and down stairs. She went to church for the last time early in June, driving to All Saints, Norfolk Square, and walking home.

Greatly alarmed at her condition, the family now turned in many directions for the help and advice of eminent medical men. Sir William Jenner took perhaps the most hopeful view. He thought it not impossible that the nerves of motionmight regain power, and prescribed in the meantime "the life of a cabbage." Dr. Little was never sanguine. Dr. Hughlings Jackson and Dr. Hawkesley held out but little hope of improvement. All agreed that she must rest, vegetate, lead the life of an invalid.

When the prospect of the future really dawned upon her, who can wonder that she found submission, acquiescence, exceedingly hard. "My whole being revolts at the very idea," she said one day.

On another occasion, with a part humorous, part pathetic expression, she exclaimed, "The change is great and," after a pause, "not pleasant." But in later years, after long and patient suffering, she was able to say, "Many have a heavier cross."

She announced by letter to the present writer the verdict of her physicians, adding the pathetic words, "Love me to the end."

"By two wings a man is raised above the earth, namely by Simplicity and Purity."—Thomas à Kempis.

There was still much within Bessie's power; and in tracing her work at this period we find little diminution in her correspondence. She received letters almost daily from Colonel Fyers on the business of the Institution. Levy wrote frequently and fully to her. She had given him great assistance in writing a book onBlindness and the Blind, and her own notes were made over to him.

A letter which she received in March 1872 is interesting as a description of preparations made by a blind man, Levy, carried out by a blind carpenter, Farrow, and related to the blind lady, Miss Gilbert. The occasion was the Thanksgiving for the Restoration of the Prince of Wales in February 1872, when the streets were gay with decorations and every window full of spectators. No house showed more bravely than the Institution for Promoting the Welfare of the Blind inOxford Street; subscribers and their friends, the Committee and their friends, filled every window, and the blind were keenly alive to all that was going on around them, and to the distinction of the Prince's plume and gas jets and the letters V.R., "each about four feet long in gold paper."

"The decorations," writes Levy, "consisted of a Union Jack flag at the top of the house, and about half way up a crown and Prince's plume, made of gold paper, projecting from the wall, and the letters V.R., each about four feet long and two feet broad, made in thick rossets in silver paper on crimson ground, also projecting some distance from the wall, a wreath of flowers extended from the house to the post at the curb of the pavement, the lamp of which contained a transparency."At night the illumination consisted of a Prince's plume in gas jets, which we bought for three pounds ten instead of hiring a similar one for ten pounds; the wood used for seats will be made into housemaids' boxes, etc. and the American cloth with which they were covered made available for dress baskets."I think if you give five pounds it will be enough, as ten pounds will cover the whole expense. The goods and glass cases were taken out of the shop windows and three rows of seats, which gradually receded and increased in height, were formed. The same kind of seats were in the Committee room and the apartments above, out of which the windows were taken. A rail was put to keep people from going on to the balcony, as it was not safe; tables with wine and biscuits were placed, and Mr. Osmond had something more substantial in his rooms, with which Mr. Reid and others were well pleased."

"At night the illumination consisted of a Prince's plume in gas jets, which we bought for three pounds ten instead of hiring a similar one for ten pounds; the wood used for seats will be made into housemaids' boxes, etc. and the American cloth with which they were covered made available for dress baskets.

"I think if you give five pounds it will be enough, as ten pounds will cover the whole expense. The goods and glass cases were taken out of the shop windows and three rows of seats, which gradually receded and increased in height, were formed. The same kind of seats were in the Committee room and the apartments above, out of which the windows were taken. A rail was put to keep people from going on to the balcony, as it was not safe; tables with wine and biscuits were placed, and Mr. Osmond had something more substantial in his rooms, with which Mr. Reid and others were well pleased."

On the 1st April 1872 the Rev. Frederick Denison Maurice died. Bessie had been butslightly acquainted with him, but he was the brother of her old and dear friends, Mrs. Powell and Mrs. Julius Hare. She had been less startled by his written and spoken words than many of those in her own circle, and on his death she recognised that a great power had gone from amongst us, and sincerely mourned his loss.

She worked as usual at the arrangements for the annual meeting in 1872, and on the 22d June the Archbishop of York, who presided, wrote to tell her of its success.

22d June 1872.My dear Miss Gilbert—I attended the meeting and made my short speech. There never was a nicer meeting, the speakers were full of gratitude to you for all you had done. We could have had twice the number of speakers if we had wanted them.I hope, my dear Miss Gilbert, that God will strengthen you and enable you to carry on for many years your excellent Association.—Ever with much regard, yours truly,W. Ebor.

22d June 1872.

My dear Miss Gilbert—I attended the meeting and made my short speech. There never was a nicer meeting, the speakers were full of gratitude to you for all you had done. We could have had twice the number of speakers if we had wanted them.

I hope, my dear Miss Gilbert, that God will strengthen you and enable you to carry on for many years your excellent Association.—Ever with much regard, yours truly,

W. Ebor.

The Princess Edward of Saxe-Weimar, sister of the Duke of Richmond, conveyed a request from Bessie to the Duke and Duchess of Teck, whose interest she hoped to enlist for the annual meeting of 1872. They were abroad in the spring, but the Duke returned in time to preside at the June meeting. Bessie never dropped any of the links in her chain, and her early life at Chichester had given her many valuable allies.

In her long days of enforced inactivity she would recall to mind visits to Goodwood, to Arundel, interest expressed and shown in theobjects she had at heart, and would redouble her efforts to raise up friends for the blind.

Meantime there was a steady deterioration in her own physical condition.

The malady which had been making insidious progress for so long was degeneration of the spinal cord. The disease is one that generally owes its origin to accident or injury, but so far as could be ascertained Bessie had never met with either.

The physicians who attended her throughout the last years of her life inclined to the view that the poison in the blood left by scarlet fever was the cause not only of the condition of the throat, from which she suffered throughout her whole life (it will be remembered that she could only drink in sips), but also of this degeneration of the spinal cord.

Looking back, the members of her family recalled to mind that her powers of motion had not for many years been free and unimpeded. The significant entries in diary and letters, as to her moving and walking better, will not be forgotten. But the true cause of this had not been suspected, except by Dr. Little; for mischief to the spinal cord may be carried very far before there is any outward sign to manifest it. The power of motion and merely animal functions are affected by it; but intelligence remains alert and the brain power unaffected. The symptoms which accompany it are at first attributed to weakness, overwork, physical fatigue, any of which would be sufficient to account for them before the diseasehas reached the stage in which its true nature is unmistakably revealed. Mental trouble will often accelerate the progress of this malady, and occasion its more rapid development. This cause had also been at work.

The death of her father in 1870 was sudden and most unexpected to Bessie. The subsequent giving up of the two homes, at Chichester and in London, which long years had endeared to her; the necessity of planting herself in and learning to accommodate herself to a new house, with all the old familiar landmarks swept away—all these things were sources of suffering to one of her delicate nervous organisation; and doubtless they gave an added impetus to the progress of disease.

She met her troubles with great courage; she bore them with unmurmuring patience; but they produced their inevitable result, and flung her aside when the storm was over as a weed is cast up by an angry sea.

There were a few months during which various remedies were suggested and tried, but all unsuccessfully. The two sisters, who henceforward devoted their whole life to her, now took it in turns to sleep on a sofa in her room, so as to help her to move and turn in bed during the night. But when she realised that loss of power was not a phase but one of the conditions of her illness, she would not allow them to do this, saying she must have them "fresh for the daytime." A sick nurse was engaged, and, with Charlotte Gadney, ministered to her.

For a little time she was able occasionally to be taken into Hyde Park in an easy bath chair and always recumbent, but she could only bear the vibration of the movement for a very short distance. When she reached the park she would remain for some hours enjoying the air.

Quiet and fresh air (two things that London cannot give) seemed more and more essential; and in August 1872 her sister Mary (Mrs. Bowles) wrote to propose that she should pay a long visit to Milton Hill, in Berkshire. Her doctors warmly approved of the proposal, if only she could bear the journey; and Mr. Bowles, to whom she was warmly attached, busied himself with preparations for her comfort.

After many anxious inquiries and careful arrangements, it was settled that, accompanied by her sister Sarah, she should undertake the journey in an invalid carriage, "by road and rail," being lifted in at her own door and lifted out at Milton Hill.

This was done; but the railway officials attached the carriage to the end of an express train; the oscillation and vibration were insupportable, and she reached Milton Hill almost unconscious from pain and fatigue. In the hope of lessening her suffering she had been held in the nurse's arms all the latter part of the railway journey; but even this could do little to diminish the agony she endured. She was carried to bed as soon as she reached Milton Hill, and after some days of complete rest she began to rally. It was then a great pleasure to her to note allthat had been done by the "best and kindest brother-in-law that any one ever had."

"Did you ever know such a brother-in-law!" she used to say.

Rooms for her and her servants had been arranged on the ground floor, with easy access to the beautiful garden and grounds. She arrived in August, and as soon as she had somewhat recovered, she was carried every day that the weather allowed, to a tent that had been put up in a pleasant part of the garden. She enjoyed being read aloud to; she had great delight in her nephews and nieces; but most of all she appreciated the opportunity of uninterrupted intercourse with her sister. They were again the "Mary and Bessie" of youthful days; not friends learning to know and love each other, but sisters with a wealth of buried recollections to be brought out to the light of day; interests, tastes, and affections in common; only a spark, an electric flash of memory, needed to illuminate the whole. No wonder that the time passed happily, and "life between four walls" dawned upon the sufferer, not without promise of alleviation.

For, in spite of the hours spent in the tent, it was practically already life within four walls. All thought of work or occupation outside her own home had to be abandoned; she must keep only that which she could guide and control from the sick-room. "I feel like a train which has been left upon a siding," she used to say.

Throughout the winter of 1872-73 she gaveall the strength and time at her disposal to the interests and occupations of the blind. A fresh anxiety troubled her. Levy's health was failing seriously, and several members of the Committee wished him to take a long leave of absence. The work connected with his book, added to his ordinary duties as manager of the Association, had exhausted his strength. Bessie received letters from friends on the Committee telling her that Levy must have rest, and from Levy saying it was impossible for him to take it during her absence. The year 1873 was passing on with this, which seemed a heavy cloud, hanging over her, when suddenly a storm burst, which swept away all other anxiety in the one engrossing sorrow which it brought.

After less than a week's illness her beloved sister Mary, Mrs. Bowles, died on 20th October at Milton Hill. Bessie was in the same house, but was too ill to be taken to her sister's room; and they never met after the day on which Mrs. Bowles was attacked by a fatal malady. Bessie's sick-nurse, and an old and faithful servant of the Gilbert family, who happened to be staying at Milton Hill, were unremitting in their attention to Mrs. Bowles; and from them Bessie heard of the variations in her condition almost from hour to hour. When all was over Bessie, in her weak condition, was crushed and exhausted. She seemed unable to endure the shock of this sudden blow, and at first could only lie and moan, "Oh, why was she taken and I left?"

Archdeacon Atkinson, a near neighbour and old friend of her sister's, did his best to soothe and comfort her. The grief of Mr. Bowles and the children roused her. She saw how much they needed help, and before long she was the old brave Bessie, full of thought for the sorrow of others, and engrossed by her endeavours to console and comfort them.

Before the death of Mrs. Bowles it had been arranged that Bessie should spend the winter at Torquay. This plan was adhered to; and in November 1873, travelling in one of the railway companies invalid carriages, she bore the journey fairly well, and reached Torquay without the terrible suffering caused by her previous journey.

She had bright and sunny rooms in Sulyarde Terrace, and on fine days she was still able to spend a few hours out of doors, reclining in an invalid chair; sometimes also she could sit up in her chair for an hour or two, and at this time, when her food was duly prepared, she was still able to feed herself. Her sister Lucy, Mrs. Casson, with husband and many children, resided at Torquay; and she found here, also, a kind brother-in-law, unremitting in his attentions, and numerous young nephews and nieces, whom she knew and loved. In January 1874 Levy died. Father, mother, and sister; house and home and health had been taken from Bessie; and now the faithful servant and friend of her whole life followed. She had put great constraint upon herself at the time of her sister's illness and death, but she waspowerless against this blow. Deep depression settled down upon her, which took the form of constant self-reproach. She, the most unselfish and considerate of women, was given over, as it were, to an avenging spirit, which upbraided her with faults never committed, and exacted expiation for imaginary crimes of selfishness and self-seeking. Such dark passages may be borne in mind by other sufferers, tortured with self-questionings and doubt.

The first thing to rouse her was the desire to say some words to the blind men and women on whose behalf Mr. Levy had worked for so many years. As soon as she had somewhat recovered, she wrote perhaps the most touching record we have of her work, her hope, her sorrow, and her submission.

2 Sulyarde Terrace, Torquay,10th February 1874.My dear Friends—I feel that both you and I have had a very great loss indeed, and my heart yearns to say to you that you do not know how grieved I am for you; you know full well what the loss is to yourselves, but you can hardly tell what it is to me; you cannot know how he who is now taken and I have worked together with the self-same end of helping you, and now I am left, deprived of all the help that your dear and true friend gave me, and it is impossible for me to tell you how deeply I feel the loss.Mr. Levy never spared himself when your interest was at stake, and now that he is taken from us, and I am left alone, I feel that I must ask you all to give me all the help in your power, and you can help me by giving me your confidence, by showing me that you feel I will do the best I can for you, and, above all, by trying, withGod's help, to become the men and women He would have you to be. Nothing gives me greater joy than for the Association to be the means of helping you, by God's blessing, to lead really Christian lives. This means that you should have in your hearts the love of God and the love of your neighbour, which love will prevent you hurting anybody by word or deed, make you true and just in all your dealings, and temperate and sober in your living. My earnest desire is that the Association should help you to learn and labour truly to get your own living; but you know that this must be a work of time. If I could prevent it there should not be one blind person begging, but all should have the blessing of earning their living; but, as I say, it will take a long time to bring this to pass. Had I been asked I should have said, "You would do better without me than without him who is taken from us; but God does not ask us, and does what He sees and knows to be best, and He has taken Mr. Levy to his rest and reward, and has left me."If it is His will that I should have strength, I will, with His help and with the aid of the friends engaged in the work, do the best I can. Many of you I have never seen; I wish this were not so, but I cannot help it; but to you all I earnestly say: please think of me as of one who has your truest interest at heart, who is, like yourselves, without sight, and who tries, to the best of her power, to understand what it is to be poor as well as blind, and who longs for your help and co-operation in the work of endeavouring to help you to help yourselves. You will help me, will you not?—Believe me, my dear friends, to be most sincerely yours,Elizabeth Gilbert.P.S.—I have signed my name with the pen which Mr. Levy invented for us. You and I must pray that God will help me to do what will be best for you. Iknow God will not leave us, for He loveth the blind, as He doth all human beings, more than we can possibly understand or know, so that we must try and trust in Him fully in all our trials. May God bless you all!

2 Sulyarde Terrace, Torquay,10th February 1874.

My dear Friends—I feel that both you and I have had a very great loss indeed, and my heart yearns to say to you that you do not know how grieved I am for you; you know full well what the loss is to yourselves, but you can hardly tell what it is to me; you cannot know how he who is now taken and I have worked together with the self-same end of helping you, and now I am left, deprived of all the help that your dear and true friend gave me, and it is impossible for me to tell you how deeply I feel the loss.

Mr. Levy never spared himself when your interest was at stake, and now that he is taken from us, and I am left alone, I feel that I must ask you all to give me all the help in your power, and you can help me by giving me your confidence, by showing me that you feel I will do the best I can for you, and, above all, by trying, withGod's help, to become the men and women He would have you to be. Nothing gives me greater joy than for the Association to be the means of helping you, by God's blessing, to lead really Christian lives. This means that you should have in your hearts the love of God and the love of your neighbour, which love will prevent you hurting anybody by word or deed, make you true and just in all your dealings, and temperate and sober in your living. My earnest desire is that the Association should help you to learn and labour truly to get your own living; but you know that this must be a work of time. If I could prevent it there should not be one blind person begging, but all should have the blessing of earning their living; but, as I say, it will take a long time to bring this to pass. Had I been asked I should have said, "You would do better without me than without him who is taken from us; but God does not ask us, and does what He sees and knows to be best, and He has taken Mr. Levy to his rest and reward, and has left me."

If it is His will that I should have strength, I will, with His help and with the aid of the friends engaged in the work, do the best I can. Many of you I have never seen; I wish this were not so, but I cannot help it; but to you all I earnestly say: please think of me as of one who has your truest interest at heart, who is, like yourselves, without sight, and who tries, to the best of her power, to understand what it is to be poor as well as blind, and who longs for your help and co-operation in the work of endeavouring to help you to help yourselves. You will help me, will you not?—Believe me, my dear friends, to be most sincerely yours,

Elizabeth Gilbert.

P.S.—I have signed my name with the pen which Mr. Levy invented for us. You and I must pray that God will help me to do what will be best for you. Iknow God will not leave us, for He loveth the blind, as He doth all human beings, more than we can possibly understand or know, so that we must try and trust in Him fully in all our trials. May God bless you all!

With advancing spring the cloud of depression was dispelled. She became more cheerful, began to talk of a return to London, and to look forward to her life there. The return journey was undertaken in the second week in June. It was safely accomplished, though at the cost of very great weariness and exhaustion. When she reached Stanhope Place and had been carried to her room, she said, "No more journeys for me." This was indeed her last journey, for though in 1877 she had such a longing for fresh country air that there was a consultation, and her physicians sanctioned removal, yet when the time came her heart failed, and she remained at home.

On her return from Torquay she went into Hyde Park about half a dozen times in an invalid chair, but after October 1874 she left the house no more. She was, however, still able for a time to be dressed, to sit up for an hour or two, and to be carried up and down stairs. As the winter advanced a sitting-room was arranged on the same floor as her bedroom, and then she came downstairs daily no more. In spite of all precautions against cold she had a severe attack of bronchitis in 1875, and was attended by Dr. Hawkesley, whom she knew and liked as a fellow-worker on the Council of the Normal College for the Blind. He was struck by the manner inwhich she threw off the attack. "She is doing so gallantly," he said. But she did not regain the strength lost during this illness, and resumed life after every access of sorrow and suffering on a lower level, as it were, and with diminished vital powers. After the spring of 1875 she was not dressed again, and never sat up. Recumbent on one of Alderman's couches, in a pretty dressing-gown, with soft warm shawls, and lace, and bright colour, such as she loved, about her, she spent her good days. On the bad ones she was not lifted from her bed.

She had indeed become like a train that is left upon a siding, and all her busy life was hushed and silent.

When the summer came, and her rooms were to be repapered and painted, she was carried downstairs. The drawing-rooms were specially prepared as her bed and sitting-rooms, and she would stay in these her "country quarters" for six weeks or two months. After that she was taken upstairs in the same way for the autumn, winter, and spring. This removal required great care and very skilful management, as the couch on which she reclined had to be lifted over the bannisters, and any jerk or unexpected movement caused both pain and apprehension.

A fresh sorrow awaited her. In 1876 Charlotte Gadney, her faithful and affectionate attendant, had a paralytic seizure, and it was necessary for the sake both of mistress and maid that they should part. Bessie could not at first acquiesce in separation;she reproached herself as the cause of Charlotte's illness, and could not rest until she was informed of all the minutest details connected with her.

But when the parting was over Bessie's anxiety gradually diminished, and Charlotte's recovery was more rapid than had been expected. She was never well enough to resume attendance upon her beloved mistress, but from time to time she came on a short visit, much to her own and Bessie's delight.

Meanwhile the Association struggled on under the care of successive managers. Levy's illness and frequent absence had caused confusion, irregularity, and loss, which his successors were not slow to take advantage of. They found it easy to persevere in defects occasioned by his failing health and want of sight; but the untiring devotion to the cause of the blind, and unwearied efforts on their behalf, which had made these defects of comparatively small importance, were lost to the Association for ever.

Bessie knew and lamented the shortcomings, but she could no longer supplement them. Successive years diminished her powers of work. Sleeplessness, pain, exhaustion, wore her out; and sometimes for days together she could not bear even an allusion to the Association and its work. Occasional fits of deafness, to which she had always been liable, depressed her more than they had ever previously done. These attacks recurred several times, and lasted for many weeks at a time. It was difficult for her to shake off the gloom thataccompanied them, and the sense of isolation and solitude. Her hands and arms were too feeble to allow her to read or work for more than a few moments, so that she was not only cut off from the society of those she loved, but unable to occupy herself in any way.

From time to time she regained a little strength, and then it was touching to see how she at once resumed her labours. At the beginning of her illness she took great interest in the inauguration of the Normal College for the Blind. Dr. Campbell had several long conversations with her in 1871, before she left Queen Anne Street, and at his request she had joined the Committee of the College and even attended some of its meetings. She rejoiced in the success that now attended Dr. Campbell's efforts; but she was convinced that a musical career was, in most cases, impossible for the blind. "Many adult persons lose their sight, but the loss does not entail a love of music," she would say. She saw, and had always seen, that handicrafts were the only possible occupation for the majority, especially amongst the poor and uneducated; and one of her chief objects was to increase the number of trades which the blind could follow. She used to say that, with a little ingenuity and contrivance, many additional trades might be thrown open to them. With this end in view she continued to make herself acquainted with the details of different occupations, and wished that experiments "on a very small scale" should be carried out. But there were too manydifficulties in the way. Want of health, want of money, want of space for workrooms, met her at every turn. Still, whenever there was a bit of work that she could do, she did it. In November 1874 a special Committee had been appointed by the Charity Organisation Society to consider "what more can be done to promote the welfare of the blind, especially in relation to their industrial training." The Earl of Lichfield presided, and the subjects to be considered were as follows:

1. What is being done industrially for the blind, and in what ways?(a) For learners.(b) For journeymen.2. What more can be done through existing agencies?(a) By improvements in system of working.(b) By co-operation between the agencies.(c) By fresh retail shops.3. May not a large proportion of the able-bodied blind be rendered thoroughly self-supporting?4. Should the education and training of the blind be to any extent provided for from the rates or other State sources, and, if so, to what extent?

1. What is being done industrially for the blind, and in what ways?

(a) For learners.

(b) For journeymen.

2. What more can be done through existing agencies?

(a) By improvements in system of working.

(b) By co-operation between the agencies.

3. May not a large proportion of the able-bodied blind be rendered thoroughly self-supporting?

4. Should the education and training of the blind be to any extent provided for from the rates or other State sources, and, if so, to what extent?

The first paper read on the welfare of the blind had been forwarded by Bessie, with an expression of deep regret "That the state of her health prevented her from attending the meeting." She wrote as follows:

In endeavours to promote the welfare of the blind, it is essential that some important facts should be borne in mind, viz.—1st.That many blind persons, although instructed in some trade, are either reduced to begging or are drivento the workhouse, not through their own fault, but simply for the want of any regular employment in their trade.2d.That children constitute but a small proportion of the blind, as about nine-tenths of the thirty thousand blind in the United Kingdom become so above the age of twenty-one.3d.That about half the sightless population live in rural districts.4th.That the health of persons without sight is, as a general rule, below that of others.5th.That this cause operates, in addition to loss of sight, to bring about the slow rate at which the blind work as compared with the sighted.6th.That social ties are even more essential to the blind than to others.Objects to be Aimed at.1st.To foster self-reliance, and to enable the blind to help themselves.2d.To eradicate the habit of suspicion by promoting friendly intercourse between the blind and the sighted.3d.To develop the faculties of the blind in every direction.4th.To improve their physical condition.5th.In industrial training to endeavour to lessen, as far as possible, the difference in speed in the work between the work of the blind and that of the sighted, while making it the first object to secure good and efficient work.6th.To do everything to reduce the dependence of the blind as far as possible, while endeavouring, by Christian instruction, to enable them to accept the unavoidable dependence of their condition in a spirit of humility and thankfulness which will soften and sweeten it to them, and will turn this dependence into one of their greatest blessings, as it will be the means of uniting them more closely to their fellow-creatures.Means towards these Ends.1st.Endeavour to enable the blind to earn their own living, and with this view seek out and send children to existing blind schools.2d.Promote the establishment of institutions for providing the blind on leaving the schools with regular employment, and for teaching trades to persons ineligible for admission to the schools, which is the case, as a rule, with those above twenty-one years of age.3d.When practicable, supply blind persons with regular employment at their own homes, and encourage them to do anything they can on their own account independently of any institution.4th.Try to introduce trades hitherto not carried on by the blind, giving the precedence to such as can be practised without sighted aid.5th.Cultivate habits of method and precision in the blind, which will all tend to improve the rate at which they work.6th.Make the training of efficient blind teachers a special object.7th.Encourage residence in the country rather than in towns by giving employment at home, thus cementing family ties and promoting health.8th.Form lending libraries of embossed books in all the various systems in use, and establish classes for religious and other instruction.Observations.Many other means besides those here mentioned might be suggested, but the aim of this paper has been to state some of the chief facts bearing on the subject, and to mention some of the most obvious means for improving the condition of the blind.Regular employment at their own homes, when practicable, is of great service to the blind, and especially as bythis means numbers in the country can be reached. It might also be possible to some extent to carry out what might be called Rural Home Industrial Teaching, of course regulating the trades taught according to local circumstances.The importance of opening new trades to the blind can hardly be exaggerated, and friends of the blind must welcome every successful effort in this direction. Next to the benefit of real Christian principles must be placed that of enabling the sightless to earn their own living; but where this is impossible pensions should be given.Lastly.Let the blind themselves be consulted, and have as much voice as possible in the measures adopted for their welfare; and this is said not only with a view to the educated, but especially to the more intelligent blind in humbler positions, since, as is well known, the mass of those without sight will be found among the poorer classes. The more this is done the more will the blind feel that the sighted desire to carry out such measures as shall act like so many levers with which to raise them from their present depressed condition, and will then heartily second the efforts made, and thankfully grasp the friendly hands held out to them; but which they will only accept reluctantly and coldly, not having their own heart in the work, unless convinced that the main object in view is to enable them, by their own efforts, to stand as far as possible on an equality with their fellow-creatures.

In endeavours to promote the welfare of the blind, it is essential that some important facts should be borne in mind, viz.—

1st.That many blind persons, although instructed in some trade, are either reduced to begging or are drivento the workhouse, not through their own fault, but simply for the want of any regular employment in their trade.

2d.That children constitute but a small proportion of the blind, as about nine-tenths of the thirty thousand blind in the United Kingdom become so above the age of twenty-one.

3d.That about half the sightless population live in rural districts.

4th.That the health of persons without sight is, as a general rule, below that of others.

5th.That this cause operates, in addition to loss of sight, to bring about the slow rate at which the blind work as compared with the sighted.

6th.That social ties are even more essential to the blind than to others.

Objects to be Aimed at.

1st.To foster self-reliance, and to enable the blind to help themselves.

2d.To eradicate the habit of suspicion by promoting friendly intercourse between the blind and the sighted.

3d.To develop the faculties of the blind in every direction.

4th.To improve their physical condition.

5th.In industrial training to endeavour to lessen, as far as possible, the difference in speed in the work between the work of the blind and that of the sighted, while making it the first object to secure good and efficient work.

6th.To do everything to reduce the dependence of the blind as far as possible, while endeavouring, by Christian instruction, to enable them to accept the unavoidable dependence of their condition in a spirit of humility and thankfulness which will soften and sweeten it to them, and will turn this dependence into one of their greatest blessings, as it will be the means of uniting them more closely to their fellow-creatures.

Means towards these Ends.

1st.Endeavour to enable the blind to earn their own living, and with this view seek out and send children to existing blind schools.

2d.Promote the establishment of institutions for providing the blind on leaving the schools with regular employment, and for teaching trades to persons ineligible for admission to the schools, which is the case, as a rule, with those above twenty-one years of age.

3d.When practicable, supply blind persons with regular employment at their own homes, and encourage them to do anything they can on their own account independently of any institution.

4th.Try to introduce trades hitherto not carried on by the blind, giving the precedence to such as can be practised without sighted aid.

5th.Cultivate habits of method and precision in the blind, which will all tend to improve the rate at which they work.

6th.Make the training of efficient blind teachers a special object.

7th.Encourage residence in the country rather than in towns by giving employment at home, thus cementing family ties and promoting health.

8th.Form lending libraries of embossed books in all the various systems in use, and establish classes for religious and other instruction.

Observations.

Many other means besides those here mentioned might be suggested, but the aim of this paper has been to state some of the chief facts bearing on the subject, and to mention some of the most obvious means for improving the condition of the blind.

Regular employment at their own homes, when practicable, is of great service to the blind, and especially as bythis means numbers in the country can be reached. It might also be possible to some extent to carry out what might be called Rural Home Industrial Teaching, of course regulating the trades taught according to local circumstances.

The importance of opening new trades to the blind can hardly be exaggerated, and friends of the blind must welcome every successful effort in this direction. Next to the benefit of real Christian principles must be placed that of enabling the sightless to earn their own living; but where this is impossible pensions should be given.

Lastly.Let the blind themselves be consulted, and have as much voice as possible in the measures adopted for their welfare; and this is said not only with a view to the educated, but especially to the more intelligent blind in humbler positions, since, as is well known, the mass of those without sight will be found among the poorer classes. The more this is done the more will the blind feel that the sighted desire to carry out such measures as shall act like so many levers with which to raise them from their present depressed condition, and will then heartily second the efforts made, and thankfully grasp the friendly hands held out to them; but which they will only accept reluctantly and coldly, not having their own heart in the work, unless convinced that the main object in view is to enable them, by their own efforts, to stand as far as possible on an equality with their fellow-creatures.

The suggestions made in this little paper had all been thought out upon a bed of pain, and with sorrows of her own that might well have engrossed her attention. But Bessie never, to the end of her life, lost an opportunity of working and speaking on behalf of those to whom that life had been devoted.

Two events in the history of the Association which deeply interested her were the removal from Oxford Street to more commodious premises in Berners Street, and the Special Bequest of £10,000 by Mr. Gardner. She was gratified to learn that the Special Bequest was no bar to the participation of the Association in the general advantages provided by Mr. Gardner for the blind.

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