“FOLLOW that pathway till you come to some arches, and turn under them, and you will find the Blind School,” was the answer given whenever we stopped in our bewildered pilgrimage to inquire: but no arches were visible, save one disreputable old bridge, under which no self-respecting school seemed likely to find shelter; so we went on hopelessly, asking the way from waggoners and countrymen, who all seemed interested in the question, but were unable to give us any guidance. A pitiless hailstorm rattled on our umbrellas and splashed the mud upon our boots: while the path, it was evident, was leading us on towards the river, not the school; so at last in despair we turned, and flying before the storm sought refuge under the despised railway bridge, where a group of children were playing dry and comfortable, while we were wet and muddy. Once again we inquired for the Blind School, and were told to go on. The path led under a succession of iron girders which apparently stand for arches in those regions, and we tramped on discontentedly, feeling we had been deceived, and that we too might have been dry and safe like the children, if only our misinformants had called a spade a spade, and a row of iron girders something else than arches. But the path took a turn, and we saw cottages and green fields, and we reached a house which had two doors, on one of which we read, “Mr. Wallis,” and on the other nothing: so we chanced the second door, knocked, and were soon among a group of children, all neat, healthy, and cheerful—but blind. In this blind school there were but two people who could see, and these were not the only teachers, for here the blind helped the blind, as the rich helped the poor. For this school began with a blind man. Five years ago, near the banks of the Severn, a cart containing vitriol was overturned; and of four people who were there, only two were left alive, and one of these was blind. Childless and blind, this man had to begin life again—to learn to live in darkness, and in darkness to work for others. For as soon as he had learned to grope his way, he learned to read in the books provided for the blind, and went from village to village to find other blind persons, and teach them how to read also. Then a noble-hearted woman came forward to help him, and founded the school; where blind children are trained to work as well as read, and blind men and women come every day to be taught trades. These latter come daily to the school, groping their way along the path that had been so tedious to our impatience; and learn to work, and also to read, helped sometimes by the teachers, sometimes by the blind man: who also still goes as before, from village to village, teaching and comforting those in the same straits as himself.