es alone there
are engaged in musical occupation one hundred and fifty blind piano
tuners, one hundred and fifty blind teachers of music in schools for
the blind, five hundred blind private teachers, one hundred blind
church organists, fifteen or more blind composers and publishers of
music, and several blind dealers in musical instruments.

_There is no open door to the temple of success_. Every one who enters
makes his own door, which closes behind him to all others, not even
permitting his own children to pass.

Nearly forty years ago, on a rainy, dreary day in November, a young
widow in Philadelphia sat wondering how she could feed and clothe three
little ones left dependent by the death of her husband, a naval
officer. Happening to think of a box of which her husband had spoken,
she opened it, and found therein an envelope containing directions for
a code of colored light signals to be used at night on the ocean. The
system was not complete, but she perfected it, went to Washington, and
induced the Secretary of the Navy to give it a trial. An admiral soon
wrote that the signals were good for nothing, although the idea was
valuable. For months and years she worked, succeeding at last in
producing brilliant lights of different colors. She was paid $20,000
for the right to manufacture them in our navy. Nearly all the blockade
runners captured in the Civil War were taken by the aid of the Coston
signals, which are also considered invaluable in the Life Saving
Service. Mrs. Coston introduced them into several European navies, and
became wealthy.

A modern writer says that it is one of the mysteries of our life that
genius, that noblest gift of God to man, is nourished by poverty. Its
greatest works have been achieved by the sorrowing ones of the world in
tears and despair. Not in the brilliant salon, not in the tapestried
library, not in ease and competence, is genius usually born and
nurtured; but often in adversity and destitution, amidst the harassing
cares of a straitened household, in bare and fireless garrets, with the
noise of squalid children, in the turbulence of domestic contentions,
and in the deep gloom of uncheered despair. This is its most frequent
birthplace, and amid scenes like these unpropitious, repulsive,
wretched surroundings, have men labored, studied, and trained
themselves, until they have at last emanated from the gloom of that
obscurity the shining lights of their times; have beco