charities; and that the dead and gone testator has in pure
spite helped to do a great deal of good, at the cost of an immense
amount of evil passion and misery.
The Perkins Institution and Massachusetts Asylum for the Blind, at
Boston, is superintended by a body of trustees who make an annual
report to the corporation. The indigent blind of that state are
admitted gratuitously. Those from the adjoining state of
Connecticut, or from the states of Maine, Vermont, or New
Hampshire, are admitted by a warrant from the state to which they
respectively belong; or, failing that, must find security among
their friends, for the payment of about twenty pounds English for
their first year’s board and instruction, and ten for the second.
‘After the first year,’ say the trustees, ‘an account current will
be opened with each pupil; he will be charged with the actual cost
of his board, which will not exceed two dollars per week;’ a trifle
more than eight shillings English; ‘and he will be credited with
the amount paid for him by the state, or by his friends; also with
his earnings over and above the cost of the stock which he uses; so
that all his earnings over one dollar per week will be his own. By
the third year it will be known whether his earnings will more than
pay the actual cost of his board; if they should, he will have it
at his option to remain and receive his earnings, or not. Those
who prove unable to earn their own livelihood will not be retained;
as it is not desirable to convert the establishment into an almshouse,
or to retain any but working bees in the hive. Those who by
physical or mental imbecility are disqualified from work, are
thereby disqualified from being members of an industrious
community; and they can be better provided for in establishments
fitted for the infirm.’
I went to see this place one very fine winter morning: an Italian
sky above, and the air so clear and bright on every side, that even
my eyes, which are none of the best, could follow the minute lines
and scraps of tracery in distant buildings. Like most other public
institutions in America, of the same class, it stands a mile or two
without the town, in a cheerful healthy spot; and is an airy,
spacious, handsome edifice. It is built upon a height, commanding
the harbour. When I paused for a moment at the door, and marked
how fresh and free the whole scene was – what sparkling bubbles
glanced upon the waves, and welled up every moment to the surface,
as though the world below, like that above, were radiant with the
bright day, and gushing over in its fulness of light: when I gazed
from sail to sail away upon a ship at sea, a tiny speck of shining
white, the only cloud upon the still, deep, distant blue – and,
turning, saw a blind boy with his sightless face addressed that
way, as though he too had some sense within him of the glorious
distance: I felt a kind of sorrow that the place should be so very
light, and a strange wish that for his sake it were darker. It was
but momentary, of course, and a mere fancy, but I felt it keenly
for all that.
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Dickens, Charles – American Notes for General Circulation
The children were at their daily tasks in different rooms, except a
few who were already dismissed, and were at play. Here, as in many
institutions, no uniform is worn; and I was very glad of it, for
two reasons. Firstly, because I am sure that nothing but senseless
custom and want of thought would reconcile us to the liveries and
badges we are so fond of at home. Secondly, because the absence of
these things presents each child to the visitor in his or her own
proper character, with its individuality unimpaired; not lost in a
dull, ugly, monotonous repetition of the same unmeaning garb:
which is really an important consideration. The wisdom of
encouraging a little harmless pride in personal appearance even
among the blind, or the whimsical absurdity of considering charity