Fawcett spoke of an apparently hopeless blind boy who had come to the institution. At last his chance of making his way seemed assured, because Dr. Campbell had induced him to play leap-frog. Fawcett said that that seemed to him ‘the one test which ought to be applied to any institution devoted to the training of the youthful blind. Notwithstanding,’ he said, ‘no one felt more than he, or was more anxious to acknowledge, that, however independent they might be made, they still constantly required some assistance; and he felt that whatever he might be doing at the present time, he should be reduced to a state of entire helplessness if it were not for the friendly arm and helping voice which were always extended to him.’ [Sidenote: An Apostle of Despair.] At a meeting to promote a scheme for the benefit of the blind an apostle of despair began a prepared speech; but Fawcett, who had preceded him, so completely convinced his audience of the sanity of a cheerful and useful outlook when helping the blind that the apostle of despair found the wind completely taken out of his sails, and was forced to sit down with his speech unfinished. At the end of the controversy, when the gloomy speaker had retired, Fawcett said to Lady Campbell, ‘I hope I didn’t hit him too hard!’ Fawcett was most generous to his opponents, and feared lest his victories should have caused them the slightest suffering. When Postmaster-General he was anxious to bring deaf and dumb assorters into the Post Office. When he heard that telegraphy was thought of as a possible occupation for the blind, he sent for Sir Francis Campbell, to talk the matter over at the Post Office with the Comptroller-General. ‘For,’ said Fawcett, ‘if you think it is practical for the blind to be employed in this way, I shall give them a chance.’ The plan was not considered practical, though Fawcett was eager for it. [Sidenote: Heartening the Blind.] He was zealous to do anything he could by his energy and gaiety to help those afflicted as he was but who took a more despondent view of their condition. The frank recognition which he gives of his dependence in his blindness on the help of others gives touching insight into one of the integral qualities of his friendship. A friendship meant for him the acceptance of countless little services which it would be a privilege for his friend to perform, and while tacitly accepting these aids Fawcett felt deeply thankful, and sought automatically to do what he could in return. His kindness was not in the least of the give-and-take type; he revelled in giving fully of his life and strength where there could not possibly be any return. [Sidenote: Wright of Salisbury.] [Sidenote: Paupers and Political Economy.]