CHAPTER X
TRIALS AND TEMPTATIONS
"Boundless pity for those who are ignorant, misled, and out of the right way."—Kingsley.
Bessie was now thirty-two years old, and during 1857, 1858, and part of 1859 she was probably at the height of her power, physical and mental. The physical never amounted to very much. Her health was feeble. She was liable to long fits of depression, to long attacks of headache and prostration, to much suffering from nervous exhaustion. During the year 1857 the progress and development of her work, the encouragement and offers of help which she received, stimulated her to unusual activity. To a great extent she took her life into her own hands, and choosing a confidential maid to accompany her, she visited blind men and women, the institutions established for them, and her own friends, new and old, as well as many influential persons to whom she had received introductions. She made and carried out her own arrangements, and might fairly consider herself emancipated from control. The only restriction placed upon her by her parents and not yet removed was that she should not travel alone. She submitted, but often wished to ascertain for herself, and by experience, if the prohibition was necessary.
On one occasion, when travelling from Chichester to London, she sent her maid into an adjacent carriage. She wished to try the experiment of being alone in the train. At the last moment a gentleman rushed into the station, jumped into the first available carriage, that in which she was seated, and had just time to close the door when the train started. Bessie was a little disturbed by this incident. As her companion did not address her, she knew him to be a stranger. She soon found that he was reading a newspaper, and as it was an express train she remembered that she must have his company as far as London. Her companion was not aware that the train was express, and when it dashed through the station at which he had hoped to stop, he——
At this point, when she recounted the adventure, Bessie paused:
"What did he do?" was asked.
In an awe-struck voice she answered, "He swore——an oath."
The look of startled pain with which she must have heard that oath passed over her face, and the sensitive mouth quivered. She knew nothing about an oath; she had been told that sometimes there was bad language in a book or in a newspaper, but no one had ever said an oath to her, or read an oath. And now in the solitude of this railway carriage she was shut up with a man,—swearing.
"What did you do?" was asked.
"I held on tight to the arms of the seat. I was so frightened. I did not know what he might do next."
"What did he do?"
"He was very quiet; it seemed a long time; then he said 'I beg your pardon;' and after that he did not speak again, and he jumped out as soon as we reached London."
She referred to this as one of the most painful adventures of her life, and said she passed through an agony of apprehension and suspense until the train arrived at the terminus.
This journey took from her all desire to travel alone, and she made no further experiment in that direction.
The success of her efforts on behalf of the blind began now to be spread abroad, and institutions in many parts of England were disposed to consider the possibility of not only teaching but permanently employing the blind. Many inquiries were made of her, and she gave cordial encouragement to all who asked her advice. Levy was often sent to teach a trade, and to give information as to the best manner of carrying it on.
One letter from him may be given as a sample of many, and of the fresh interests that were being opened out:
127 Euston Road, N.W., 26th October 1857.
Dear Madam—On Monday the 19th inst. I left home for Bath, where I continued till the following Thursday, when I went to Bristol, which I left on Saturday and returned home. My presence being required in London, I felt it prudent to defer my visit to Hereford, which I think you will approve when I have the pleasure of acquainting you with the details of the reasons which influenced me. The results of these visits are of the most satisfactory kind, being briefly the following: Commenced chair caning at the School Home, Bath, and suggested improvements in basket-making which the Committee approved, and the basket-makers showed every disposition to carry out; taught two pupils to write, that they might teach others to use the writing frame which they purchased; advised the introduction of a laundry and tuning pianos, and arranged for the sale of each other's manufactured goods. Before leaving Bath I received orders for nearly thirty brushes and brooms, and had the satisfaction of receiving from their Committee an offer to pay all my expenses, which the vote of £5 enabled me to decline. The master of the Bristol school promised to bring before his Committee the subject of employing men who are not connected with their institution. I have promised to send him some material, that he may commence brush-making there. Miss Stevens advances money to a workman which is regularly repaid; she complains much of the apathy of the people in Bristol. Capelin is succeeding; business is pressing and promising. Lady Byron's order will be forwarded this week; there is not any difference made to Mr. Moon's subscribers, but a grant might be obtained from the Bible Society, or the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge; an arrangement with the shopkeeper would be advantageous. Hoping that you will excuse brevity, I am, dear madam, with gratitude and respect,
Wm. Hanks Levy.
P.S.—We are all quite well.
The blind throughout Great Britain were beginning to learn that they had a friend; and Bessie received numerous letters and appeals for help. The Rev. J. Burke, a blind clergyman, was elected in 1857 by the Mercers Company to a Lectureship at Huntingdon, and he writes to thank Bessie for efforts made on his behalf which had resulted in his appointment. The employment of women called forth a fresh burst of enthusiasm and gratitude from the blind. One of the first workwomen was Martha Trant, subsequently employed for more than twenty years.
A copy of verses by "W. Heaton and Martha" probably belong to this early period. They were laid by with several similar testimonials, all yellow with age and worn by use, but carefully preserved as the "jewels" of the blind lady.
William Heaton had been trained as a teacher for the blind, and, poor fellow! his gratitude was far in excess of his poetical power:—
Yes, I for one have felt the good,
And hope to feel it still;
For I a teacher soon shall be,
Then do my best I will.
I thank you for the favour that
You have conferred on me,
For thus admitting me to learn
A teacher for to be.
Martha's verses are upon the same level as William's:—
Oh that we had the power to speak
The gratitude we feel,
But words are vain, and oh how weak,
The feelings to reveal.
Dear lady, we most humbly hope,
You kindly will accept
This token of our gratitude,
Our love and deep respect.
And so on through several not very interesting pages. But to Bessie the value of these effusions was very great. They showed not only the gratitude but the happiness of her workpeople. They indicated a renewed life of the intellect and affections, and were received with encouraging sympathy. The composition of verses had given pleasure to herself from early childhood, and no doubt the form of expression chosen by the workpeople was influenced by her own example.
The time had now come when she was to learn more of the effects of blindness upon the character than had hitherto been revealed to her. She had inaugurated work on behalf of a special class, a course always beset by difficulties, and she was open to the influence of the fanatics of that class, of those who had been embittered by suffering and had allowed themselves to drift to the conclusion that they were set in the midst of cruel enemies.
There are some blind people who, when the full knowledge of all that their calamity entails is borne in upon them, have the courage, faith, and hope of a Christian to support them. They go forward in the certainty that as this cross has been appointed, strength will be given to bear it.
There are others who resolve to live their life, to carry out their aims, to press forward along the lines laid down for them, and not allow a mere physical privation to reduce them to a condition below the high level to which they had resolved to attain. Christian faith animates and supports the former, physical and mental force will carry on the latter. In rare cases, Bessie's was one of them, the two are combined. But there is a third and perhaps a more numerous class—those who consider themselves as unjustly afflicted, and look upon mankind as enemies. Mankind is the majority, the blind are the minority. They speak of the attitude of "the majority," the neglect and selfishness of "the majority," the duty of "the majority." Their only outlook seems to be in restrictions to be applied to the more fortunate. They are the one-legged men who want to abolish foot races. They seek not so much to raise those that are cast down, as to abase those who stand erect. Bessie's knowledge of the blind would not have been complete if she had remained ignorant of this large class.
She had deep sympathy with those who were embittered by sorrow and loss. She could feel for the man upon whom blindness entails sudden collapse; all his prospects shattered; himself and those dependent on him plunged into poverty. He sees himself set aside and made of no account. He forgets the blind whom he has known and neglected without any thought of injuring, and suspects every man who is indifferent to him of being a secret and cruel enemy.
Numerous letters addressed or submitted to her show that the morbid bitterness of many a heart had been revealed to her, and that she had been urged, again and again, to lead a forlorn hope, and storm the heights that were held by the sighted.
She knew what it was to hear her "humble work and low aims" spoken of with contempt, and to find that those whom she loved and honoured were objects of ridicule to the advanced thinkers amongst the blind. She could not work with men and women of such a type, but her sympathy gave her faultless intuitions with regard to them. Underneath a hard, aggressive exterior she felt the beating of a heart that was torn and bleeding. She could make allowance for wild words and angry exclamations, she could try to understand their meaning, but she was never dragged into the whirlpool of mere clamour, nor wrecked upon the hidden rocks of despair.
A few extracts will show the dangers to which she was exposed, dangers not unfamiliar to many of those who read the story of her life.
We are all of one opinion that the blind ought to be educated and restored to the privileges of social life and happiness from which they have been unjustly and selfishly excluded.... The present condition of my own private affairs and the desolate prospect of the future do not deter me from persevering, nor shall I desist so long as God gives me health of mind and one or two links by which I may communicate with the selfish and insensible Levites of the sighted world.... No permanent success will be gained till the education of the blind and their reception into social life be recognised and insisted on as a Christian duty; till the old and selfish indifference of animalism, that is almost everywhere manifested, be superseded by a more earnest and generous anxiety for their wellbeing, something more worthy of the spirit of humanity.
Until this real Christian sympathy be awakened to take the place of that evasive and reluctant sham, so offensively paraded, misleading the benevolent and deeply injuring us, we shall not be able to make any progress. It is to arouse this sense of duty that I direct all my efforts. I see plainly it is the only road to success. We must first look to the enlightened, conscientious, and humane of every creed, trade, profession, and rank, who believe in and practise that Catholic duty of individual effort. Next those who by official position ought to lead the way; and here we come first to the minister of religion, who basely deserts his duty if he attempts to snub into silence the just clamours of those who are hourly sinking into the wretchedness of conscious degradation and social exile, merely because the well-meaning sighted do not wish to be disturbed in their enjoyment of all the blessings of the visible world and social existence, by these melancholy and distressing subjects. If the ministers of religion do but their duty, it must then be taken up by the Board of Education, and public opinion will then call on men of science, especially the medical profession, to direct their physiological inquiries to higher subjects too long neglected. If but one hundredth part of the mental energy that has been of late years directed to the constitution and habits of the insect world and of shellfish, had been devoted to an inquiry into the means of restoring to healthy action the imprisoned, stagnant, and deteriorating mind of the blind, something long before now would have been done more worthy of the name of philosophy.... As to gaining information from the teachers of schools, I do not expect you would be treated with much respect in our present degraded and unrecognised condition. With the exception of —— and ——, I never met with any one who treated me with the respect due to an educated man; the manner in which I have been treated by others connected with such institutions has almost universally been that off-hand supercilious disrespect, with which an imaginary superior treats one of a lower grade, such as a beadle will show to a workhouse child.... The reckless and unprincipled disregard of truth to which the supposed-to-be helpless, dependent, and incapable blind are so generally exposed, has long taught me to keep copies of my letters.... I could fill pages with many an act and their consequences, which have contributed to my present ruined position, the miserable desolation of my mother's old age, and the blasted prospects of those who must sink and degenerate into isolated poverty, who would otherwise have formed a happy, self-supporting, united, and self-elevating family. This would never have happened had not those who know well where to find when convenient those sacred texts, "Thou shalt not lead the blind out of their way! Thou shalt not put a stumbling-block before the blind," taken a foul advantage of my supposed incapacity to protect my own interests, and had they not practically ignored the equally sacred obligation that "the labourer is worthy of his hire." And when I have occasionally heard the Jesuits railed against for advancing the doctrine that the end sanctified the means, I have assured such, that those equally were to be dreaded who privately practised without openly advocating it.
Bessie's nature was too healthy, and her own experience had been too favourable to allow her to believe in the organised opposition of society to the afflicted. But she was deeply moved by these cries out of the dark. They made her more than ever resolute to labour on behalf of the blind; they also showed her that she must stand aloof from plans and schemes which assume that the blind are struggling against their enemies, and that if they are successful, a time of subjection for the sighted will follow.
In May 1858 one of the earliest entries in her Common Place Book refers to this subject, and treats of the position of the blind in a world specially adapted for the sighted. The sensible, clear view, calm and dispassionate, is characteristic of one trained to look on all sides of a subject, and to recognise that which is just for all. The child's love of what was fair comes in to help the woman to see that a majority has rights as well as a minority. She had to learn that, amongst the blind workers, she stood almost alone in this recognition. She was surrounded by men, some of whom attributed their misfortunes and failures not so much to the loss of sight as to malignity and oppression, whilst others believed and endeavoured to persuade those around them that blindness induces an intellectual superiority, characteristic of the blind man. Many of these were predisposed by early experience to suspect intentional persecution, but Bessie never shared their views; and an exalted notion of her own conduct, merits, and powers was impossible to her.
L. [Levy] asked me the other day [she writes] if I had ever thought that it was an additional hindrance to the blind that so much in the way of communication between human beings was carried on by means of sight, that so much, in short, in the world was adapted to the sense of sight, and that only: for instance, that all signals are addressed to sight, and not to any of the other senses. He thought that hearing and smell could be made much more available than they are at present. I have often thought this; but of course it is only natural that the intercourse of the world should be adapted to the senses of the majority of its inhabitants; indeed, it would not be well, either for the world in general or for any minority under any peculiar circumstances that this rule should be departed from, only there ought to be the possibility of training this minority in such a way as that it might avail itself as far as possible of the means in use for general intercourse, and where this is impracticable, of substituting other means which shall answer the end in view. For example, the senses of hearing, touch, and smell might, I believe, be very much more accurately educated, and more fully developed than they are for the most part; but I have much to find out on this point. I can now, however, quite understand that systems of signals might be made very intelligible to the senses of hearing and smell. I remember Dufeau thinks that these senses might be much more developed; but he does not think that the principles upon which this should be done are yet sufficiently understood to establish a system of accurate training of them.
From what I have seen, nothing does this so effectually as the necessity of using all the faculties in self-maintenance, though it is true sometimes that when this struggle is too hard the whole being seems so utterly depressed that all the faculties seem to be dormant.
I wish I had time for more personal intercourse with the blind. I have, however, had more this year. One of the women at the Repository, Jane Jones, strikes me very much as having a good deal of spiritual insight, for I know not what else to call it. It is strange, for her other faculties seem to be below the average; perhaps, however, partly from the want of having been called out. Among the women there seems to be a great mutual kindliness. A. L., the most intelligent of them, is full of energy, and seems to have a strong desire for improvement in every way. She is only one and twenty, and more educated than the rest. She has much to contend with. I hope she may do much in teaching.
I have found the only two men I have as yet taken to teach, wonderfully patient, and most willing to learn. One has a very good notion of spelling, and is evidently really fond of arithmetic. The other has scarcely any idea whatever of spelling, and it is very difficult to give him a notion of the sound of the letters; but as far as his mind has been opened to different subjects he has, I suspect, a good deal of information and seems full of interest, especially in accounts of travels. The history of Egypt, so far as he knows it, seems to have seized upon his imagination in a way at which I was quite astonished. He is an Irishman.