perstition; to show that blindness, though a
great privation, is not a disqualification. Blind men and women can
learn, labour, and fulfil all the duties of life if their fellow-men are
merciful and helpful, and God is on the side of all those who work
honestly for themselves and others.

The life of Elizabeth Gilbert and her work for the blind are so
inextricably interwoven, that it is impossible to tell one without
constant reference to the other.

A small cellar in Holborn at a rent of eighteen-pence a week was enough
for a beginning. But before her death she could point to large and
well-appointed workshops in almost every city of England, where blind
men and women are employed, where tools have been invented by or
modified for them, where agencies have been established for the sale of
their work.

Her example has encouraged, her influence has promoted the work which
she never relinquished throughout life.

Nothing was too great for her to attempt on behalf of the blind, nothing
seemed impossible of achievement. One success suggested a new endeavour,
one achievement opened a door for fresh effort.

Free from any taint of selfishness or self-seeking, all her thought was
for others, for the helpless, the poor, the friendless. Her pity was
boundless. There was nothing she could not forgive the blind, no error,
no ignorance, no crime. She knew the desolation of their lives, their
friendless condition, and understood how they might sink down and down
in the darkness because no friendly hand was held out to them.

And yet she was unsparing to herself, and a rigid censor of her own
motive and conduct. This she could not fail to be, because she believed
in her vocation as from God. She never doubted that her work had been
appointed for her; she never wavered in her belief that strength given
by God, supported her. She knew that she was the servant of God, sent by
Him to minister to others. This knowledge was joy; but it made her
inexorable and inflexible towards herself.

There are but few incidents in her peaceful life. It was torn by no
doubt, distracted by no apprehensions, it reached none of the heights
of human happiness, and sounded none of the depths of despair. If there
were unfulfilled hopes, aspirations, affections, they left no
bitterness, no sense of disappointment. A beautiful life and helpful;
for who need despair where she overcame and gained so great a victory?

The materials for recording the histo