THE BLIND.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXVII, Issue 8320, 29 July 1890, Page 6

THE BLIND.

Mr. John Abbott writes as follows Herewith I submit the 24th list, subscriptions and transfers, £434 4s Id, which added to amount previously advertised heroin totals £1958 lis 7d. As we have now reached the spot, which lias becomo famous by denoting the conlluenco of tho throe distinct streams faith, hopo, and charity, it is necessary by way of elucidation that a few remarks should now be made. (a) The sum of £1938 represents the whole of the subscriptions promised plus the amounts respectively paid over by Bishop Cowio and Mr. Dcvoro, which are set out in to-day's list, (b) The total amount in the bank is £1497 f>s Id, and the difference between these figures and tho total advertised list is represented by the outstanding subscriptions, the bulk of which are life members, and will be paid over within tho next two months, ('•) Tho sum of £100 paid by Bishop Cowio is placed to tho revenue account, and by annual subscriptions will bo increased, and thus with tho interest to flow from capital account will furnish the sinews ot war to carry on our laudable enterprise ; (d) an application will be forthwith made to tho Government for the usual subsidy of 24s in tho £ on £1222 5s 10(1 ; (';) prima facie tho amount entitled to said subsidy would be £1497 5s Id, but inasmuch as £274 19s 3d has already received its gracious baptism we cannot with clean hands ask for a further golden sprinkling, thus the £274 19s 3d must bo regarded, as out of the running. When tho capital account has been augmented by said subsidy, the fund will be thereafter invested as indicated in the articles of constitution. Now leave tho figures and lifting tho curtain I will take you behind into the dark and secret chamber of a blind man's soul. On Saturday last asking one of these unfortunates, once seeing bub now blind, what picture had indelibly fixed itself upon his memory, and stood out above all others as the magnet towards which the inclination gravitated, and gazing thereon lie never tired. Guess it. Was it tho sun driving his chariot of tire up the steeps of heaven? the silvery moon walking the azure sky with her starry sisters ? the ocean tempest tossed and lashed into majestic billows marching in solemn majesty, or in battalions of waves in martial order, foam-crested and beautiful, rushing up to kiss the shore and part for ever '! or some supernal sunset, when from zenith to horizon the firmament was suffused with colour, which language is powerless to delineate ! Was it the gorgeous palace, the solemn temple, the inspiring cathedral, the masterpiece of some great painter with immortality as its chaplct ? Was it the majestic mountain, the atlluent river, the beauteous forest, the glassy l ike, the sparkling waterfall ? Was it the fertile valley, the luxuriant meadows, tho peaceful villages and smiling homesteads? It was none of them in combination ; it was not one in particular; but it was novel heless a picture which time can never destroy, nor calamity, however dire, efface. It was the picture of his mother. At first 1 wondered, but thinking soon detected its philosophy. With mother comes home, unity, happiness, purity, goodness. Can any more appropriate picture adorn the dark gallery of a blind man's soul ; nay, can any better study be found for the delectation and inspection of those who have eyes to see ? 1 remember visit ing a young man in his haunts of vice, presented arguments to convince his judgment, motives to change his will, but in vain. The word "mother" dropped: suddenly the defiant attitude was abandoned ; the quivering emotion mounting played all over the person and shook the fabric. The single word had stirred by its mighty force the deep fountain of his nature, and relenting and sorrowful he was bathed in tears ! Nowhaving exhibited tho blind man's cynosure, 1 will tell you what such an one most feels. First, he acutely experiences the loss of sight, especially where the privileges and joy were once in his possession ; but it, is not the terrible loss and the painful adieu for ever to those grand and glorious objects on which the eye once roamed with pleasure, sad and painful as is this bill of divorcement- in all its clauses, and we should think deeply of this phase; then with me you may ponder a still deeper depth of aflliction and gloom into which these unfortunates are plunged, that which gives intensity to the suffering, sting to the sorrow, poignancy to the grief, and tremendous weight of pressure to the avalanche of sufferings is the terrible awakening to a sense of all but abject helplessness. The noble and majestic column of independence is shattered —base, shaft, and capital—solitude, darkness, ruin, helplessness. Theso are a blind man's title deeds, and no one envies or purchases his unique and sorrowful possession. This is so. I appeal to all, call loudly for assistance; each can do something ; you can do the very thing they require, i.e., let down the cords of sympathy right down into the horrible pit, by science bit by bit restore that fractured column to all but its normal condition, teach and instruct them to help themselves. This is precisely the object in which we are now happily engaged. Men lighting a battle do it wit different weapons, seeking a goal reach it by different paths. Wo have created a public opinion, this is something; have crystallised the opinion into an organism. This organism has just received its embodiment; while extremely thankful for the aid already supplied we require continuous support in order to achieve the noble results which by combined effort and indefatigable labour lies well within our reach. Our aim must be to make the blind happy. We want to reach their emotions—music, painting, and the drama do this. Alas ! the forces employed by two of these agencies are necessarily lost; our sheet anchor, therefore, is music. It needs no interpreter, no painter, no poet, no actor. You may sit apart by yourself silent, preoccupied, and hearing some strain of music. The cloud will be suddenly lifted from the soul; you seem to be floated away to some distant region far from pain ; forget what has harassed and worried you. All that has been carried away by the waves of sound, and when the music ceases you wonder at the change. The subtle influence shakes through the drum of the ear, the nervous centres of the body, and through these tho emotions have been directly dealt with. The internal atmosphere has been shifted to and fro, the sluggish mood winnowed and lifted up, and you feel a kind of buoyancy such as is sometimes imparted by a walk or chat ; but in each case the mind has been braced. Tho grandest music for the blind is the sonset of help, namely, help to help themselves, this the talisman taking off the harp from the willow, bringing them from the land of their sorrow and captivity to the beloved city of independence and joy ; this the music of emotion kindling the tenderest strain of pathos, sympathy, expression —their jubilee song of songs, the exquisite food their souls love; if so, then play on. Thus our pilgrims of the night —sightless, weary, and wayworn—entering the musical caravans in Babylon, speedily find their terminus in Jerusalem. " They come to Mount Zion, that city of tho living God, to an innumerable company of saints and angels, to the general assembly and church of the firstborn, which are written in Heaven, and to Jesus the Mediator of the new covenant," metamorphosis and home. "That home of their Father above, The place of angels ami Cioii." St. George's Bay Road, Parnell, July '28, 1890. Bishop Cowie fund, £174 19s 3d ; friends of the blind, ditto revised account, £100; balance Jubilee fund per Mr. Devore, £155 13s lOd; Mrs. W. J. Taylor, £1; 10. Wood, £1 ; Rev. Coates,£l; J. W. Carr, lis : total, £434 4s Id.