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 hymn called for was played by the blind candidate not merely as it was written, but with variations. The authorities marvelled, but said it was chance. The second was called, and still the blind man was ready. "It's a miracle!" was the exclamation, but the blind man won, and holds to-day, the position competed for against not only the world but the world's uncharitableness.

A second instance is equally eloquent of the completeness with which these sightless lads are equipped by Dr. Campbell to battle with the world. An organist and choirmaster was wanted, and the idea of putting a blind man up for the post was scouted as ludicrous. In the organ part of the business, the blind candidate came out indisputably first.

"But," said to him the gentleman with whom the appointment rested, "you could not possibly teach our boys."

"Is it fair to say I could not till you have have given me an opportunity of showing whether I could or not?"

The only way to dispose of the claims of this sightless irrepressible was to have the boys in. He immediately put them through their exercises, and handled them in a way which argued greater knowledge of what is wanted than most seeing masters display. Some even of the rival candidates declared the blind man to be the best among them, and he secured the appointment, to the advantage of all concerned.

In the old days the poor blind were educated as beggars, and the more intelligent of the indigent blind were appropriately nicknamed by Theodore Hook the indignant blind. Dr. Campbell does not mind where his pupils come from. Whatever they may be when they are admitted to the College, there is only one thing to be said of nearly every one of those who leave it—they are ladies and gentlemen in education and deportment, equally able to earn their own living and to grace the society in which they may find themselves. Such a result has been accomplished by terribly hard work. Like Milton, Dr. Campbell "steers right onward." He is a sort of Napier, and only expects others to do what he does not shrink from himself. He is the most kindly of martinets. Blindness with him is no reason for non-punctuality, and if a boy is late in getting out of bed, he orders him to retire at night half an hour earlier, so that he may have the sleep he seems to need. Such punishment is, we may be sure, felt all the more keenly, because the doctor himself sets the example of what is right. For instance, every boy is supposed to be ready for a swim in the splendid bath of the College at a certain hour, and he cannot excuse himself, even to his own mind, for being absent or late on the score that the Doctor enforces rules he does not carry out, for every morning Dr. Campbell takes his plunge with his scholars. He is determined that in everything possible his boys and girls shall go forth into the world unsurpassed by their more fortunate brothers and sisters. His efforts to rob the blind of any sense of dependence on others, which they find so humiliating—efforts which Dr. Armitage fostered with such lavish generosity—and to make them useful citizens instead of the helpless recipients of local doles, are deserving of a support which has hardly been accorded to them. The Royal Normal College for the Blind is a wondrous illustration of the adage that even the darkest cloud has its silver lining. Here, at least, we find the drawbacks consequent on one of the most appalling of human infirmities reduced to a minimum. God alone can restore the light of day to the brain from which it is now excluded, but that He has delegated to man the power to do almost all else, let the College we have now described so fully bear witness.