From New Haven we went to Hartford (visiting the normal school of New Britain on the way), and from thence to Willimantic, South Manchester, and Springfield, Massachusetts. At Springfield the Training School, and an interview with Superintendent Balliet, gave ample material for thought. The work carried on by Mr. Balliet in the city strikingly exemplifies what a superintendent may do for the cause of education. Not only does he give weekly lectures on applied psychology and kindred subjects, but he has paid special attention to the elaborating of methods of teaching such subjects as arithmetic and geometry, geography, English language, etc., on which he has published pamphlets, setting forth the results of his thought and experience. It should be noted that, as in America schools when inspected are not judged by results, but by the methods used, and the general teaching efficiency, it comes about that the question of methods holds a more important place in educational thought than in England. More time, therefore, is devoted to their study in normal and training schools, and a superintendent has a wide field of influence in the matter of methods in the city or district over which he presides. From Springfield the normal school at Westfield was visited, and from thence we went on to Albany to see the State Normal College and City Training School. Boston offered a wide choice in matters of educational interest. The Perkins Institute and Kindergarten for the blind well repaid a visit. The former, associated with the name of Laura Bridgman, has now in Helen Keller and Annie Thomas two wonderful examples of what education may do even for those who lack what at first may seem the necessary basis for all instruction--the senses of sight and hearing. Helen Keller was not there at the time of our visit, but we just saw her later at Chicago. When she entered the Institute she, being blind, deaf, and consequently speechless, lived in a state of almost complete isolation, but now, through the careful training of her marvellously acute sense of touch, she can take a very full share in the life of the world. She moves about quite fearlessly, recognising people by a touch of the hand, speaking easily (even sometimes in public), although, of course, those speaking to her must use the hand-language,[1] or let her put her fingers on their lips. She is acquainted with a good deal of the best in literature, and writes most poetically. Indeed, from her letters it is difficult to suppose that she has never seen or heard anything. Her life seems a very happy one in spite of all, and she makes friends everywhere. Annie Thomas was at the Institute, however, at the time of our visit. She, like Helen Keller, has only the sense of touch by means of which to gain knowledge of the world, but she too has learned to talk, write, sew, etc. She acted as guide to us over the building, leading us from room to room, and drawing our attention to various things, including