welfare of a human being who can see, how
much more so is it to all who have "wisdom
at one entrance quite shut out"! There
really is no great reason why a blind child
could not be taught to read, almost as
readily as a sighted child, and taught to
read, too, in a way that at once and for ever
would enable it to master the contents of
every embossed book printed for the blind.
Whereas, under the present system, a blind
person having learned only one blind
aphabet is unable to read books printed in
the other blind alphabets; and there are
five distinct others now in existence in
England. Moreover, every one of these differs
from those employed on the continents of
Europe and America. Not only does diversity
of type, character, or alphabet, militate
against the facility of teaching the blind,
in addition to rendering the knowledge
thus imparted only half useful, but it has
also this drawback, that the embossed
literature can never be cheap. Each institution,
or school, by reason of printing in its
own especial character, incurs the expense
of a quite extravagant outlay, and, instead of
appealing to all English speaking countries
(as it would if but one system existed),
only addresses its own especial scholars,
who form a very small proportion of the
blind community.

Thus, the Bible is printed in five different
characters where one should serve; five
sets of type are required where one would
be sufficient. The plant, the printing,
the whole paraphernalia costs five times
as much as it need, and the price of
every copy of the Bible is necessarily
raised to the same extent. Nor is this
all. The expense of printed matter
obviously increases as the number of readers
diminishes; in a limited class like the
blind, the extensive circulation which
assists in cheapening the literature of the
seeing cannot, at the best, exist; yet the
number of readers is needlessly diminished
by want of uniformity in the alphabet.

With these broad facts before us, there is
surely enough to justify the doubt whether
all is done for those suffering under the
terrible calamity of blindness that might be
done; and when we further state, that at
present in England there is, for the blind,
no plan of writing, worthy of the name, by
which they may communicate one with
another, and read for themselves what they
have written (being in this respect much
behind France and other civilised countries),
we shall have still further justified the
doubt. In the methods, too, of imparting
a knowledge of arithmetic, geography, and
geometry, the same want of harmony
exists, while it is scarcely going too far to say
that music, the one pursuit above all others
to which the intelligent sightless might
turn as a congenial means of remunerative
employment, is almost wholly neglected.
It is pitiable to know that the imperfect
mode of education in this respect, arising
partly from the want of an embossed
written musical character, shuts out many
a blind man from the power of earning
a comfortable income, either as organist,
teacher, or, more than all, piano-forte
tuner. In Paris this could never be; for
there, the admirable training of boys in the
blind institutions, as musicians, enables
something like sixty per cent to earn their
own living easily: while rather more than
thirty per cent become first-rate tuners and
organists, and live most comfortably, whilst
following a pursuit congenial to their tastes.
In this country, in addition to the absence of
care in the cultivation of any musical taste
that may display itself among young blind
scholars, there is an unwarrantable prejudice
shown by piano-forte makers against
employing the blind as tuners; and thus
many capable men, thorough musicians at
heart, are obliged to rely upon alms, or
upon the following of some rough handicraft,
to save themselves from starvation.

It is obvious, therefore, that the chaotic
state of things with regard to the education
of the blind, in England, is not
limited to the A B C of teaching; there is
a want of thorough and comprehensive
organisation, a centre capable of dictating
in detail to every blind school and institution,
the plan upon which it should proceed;
universality in all branches being the chief
desideratum. Hitherto, legislation for the
blind has been conducted by the sighted;
and advocates for this or that alphabet, this
or that method of writing, this or that way
of teaching geography, arithmetic, music,
or what not, have adopted a type, or a
scheme, which looks well to the eye, but
is unsuited to the touch. Moreover, this
advocacy is usually of a very well-meaning,
but exceedingly narrow, kind; for the
upholders of each rival system are, in most
cases, unacquainted with any system but
their own: consequently, are incapable of
judging by comparison how far they are on
the right road.

Now, it has appeared to several gentlemen
who have paid much attention to the
subject, that the sightless should take this
matter into their own hands, being not only