is wont to be chiefly dependent for most of its knowledge of the external world.

It

It is impossible for those with eyes to form an adequate idea of the terrible darkness in which the blind are shrouded-of the absence of that light that can alone reveal the myriads of beautiful objects that seem made to adorn the earth, and to gladden the heart. It is not like the temporary darkness of evening, for that is in a measure dissipated by the mild reflection of the moon. It is the terrible midnight darkness, that knows no morn. would be natural to suppose, on first reflection, that the condition to which the blind are subjected would exert an unfavorable influence upon their minds and hearts, for the condition of our feelings and the character of our thoughts depend very much upon the nature of the influence exerted upon us by the material objects around us. But we apprehend it will be found that there are in our natures principles which perhaps misfortune can only awaken-that can, in a very great degree, compensate us for the effect of the deprivation of any of the senses. And this is made strikingly manifest in the uncommon exuberance of spirits, and remarkable cheerfulness which

the blind usually exhibit, and which is quite unlike the effect we should naturally expect from such a calamity.

One of the most wonderful arrangements of nature is, that when any part of the human body or faculty of the human mind becomes discased or destroyed, its office is in a measure supplied by some one of our physical or mental powers whose activity has become in consequence greatly increased. Thus in deaf persons sight becomes very acute. We know, too, that when one arm is amputated the other becomes much stronger. In like manner the sense of touch in the blind acquires a keenness and susceptibility which are rarely exhibited in other persons. We would by no means be understood to assert that this system of compensation is complete and universal. Far from it; there is no power or faculty with which we are endowed but that has a definite purpose which it can perform better than any other. What we would say is merely that which no one can fail to observe-that the deprivation of any one of our senses tends greatly to enlarge the sphere and usefulness of all the others. There are many instances on record of those who have been deprived early in life

of the use of one of their arms, who have succeeded, by long practice, in making the other perform the duties of both.

It is in this way that the blind are enabled to so great an extent to supply the place of sight by the sense of touch and hearing. The extent to which they are enabled to do this is astonishing to those who have never witnessed the readiness with which they read with their fingers, and walk unaided from place to place. No one can visit the schools which have been established in this country for the blind, the deaf and dumb, without becoming convinced that we should never know the full extent of the faculties with which God has endowed us, if we were not sometimes permitted to witness the effect produced by the deprivation of one or more of them.

But as we have already remarked, the loss of any one of our senses must be regarded as a positive evil, because its place cannot be entirely supplied by the exercise of any or all of the others. For example-we make use of the eye to do many things which can just as well be done by the sense of touch. Color is probably the only attribute or quality of matter which cannot be perceived by the other

senses as well as by sight, Most persons judge of form, distance, &c., by the eye, probably with greater readiness than they could do with any of the other senses. But it does not therefore follow that the blind may not, with, of course, a greater amount of exertion, obtain these ideas through the mediums of touch. The only pursuits of life from which they are in fact debarred by their misfortune, are painting, and perhaps the study of anatomy.

CHAPTER XVI.

"But in God's temple the great lamp is out,
And he must worship glory in the dark!
Till death, in midnight mystery, hath brought
The veiled soul's re-illuminating spark,
The pillar of the cloud enfolds the ark!
And like a man that prayeth underground

In Bethlehem's rocky shrine, he can but mark
The lingering hours by circumstance and sound,
And break, with gentle hymns, the solemn silence round.
Mrs. Norton.

Language is inadequate to describe the wretchedness, ignorance, and degradation to which the ill-fated blind has, until within a comparatively recent period, been subjected. In the earlier ages, among the nations of antiquity, they seem to have been regarded merely as the . of society; it was thought that they must, from necessity, grow up in physical, intellectual, ay! and in moral darkness. The poet and the philanthropist wept over him, and in sad strains bewailed his fate.