:

"Not to me returns
Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn,
Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose,
Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine;
But cloud instead, and ever-during dark
Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men
Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair
Presented with a universal blank
Of Nature's works, to me expunged and rased,
And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out."

Surely for this loving and lovely child does

"the celestial Light
Shine inward."

Anthropologist, metaphysician, most of all theologian, here is a lesson
which can teach you much that you will not find in your primers and
catechisms. Why should I call her "poor little Helen"? Where can you
find a happier child?

SOUTH BOSTON, MASS., March 1, 1890.

DEAR KIND POET,--I have thought of you many times since that bright
Sunday when I bade you goodbye, and I am going to write you a letter
because I love you. I am sorry that you have no little children to play
with sometimes, but I think you are very happy with your books, and your
many, many friends. On Washington's Birthday a great many people came
here to see the little blind children, and I read for them from your
poems, and showed them some beautiful shells which came from a little
island near Palos. I am reading a very sad story called "Little Jakey."
Jakey was the sweetest little fellow you can imagine, but he was poor
and blind. I used to think, when I was small and before I could read,
that everybody was always happy, and at first it made me very sad to
know about pain and great sorrow; but now I know that we could never
learn to be brave and patient, if there were only joy in the world. I am
studying about insects in Zoology, and I have learned many things about
butterflies. They do not make honey for us, like the bees, but many of
them are as beautiful as the flowers they light upon, and they always
delight the hearts of little children. They live a gay life, flitting
from flower to flower, sipping the drops of honey-dew, without a thought
for the morrow. They are just like little boys and girls when they
forget books and studies, and run away to the woods and the fields to
gather wild-flowers, or wade in the ponds for fragrant lilies, happy in
the bright sunshine. If my little sister comes to Boston next June, will
you let me bring her to see you? She is a lovely baby and I am sure you
will love [her].