interests the public.
Its laborious details and duties repel and weary the many, and find fitting ministers only in a few spirits of rare and untiring benevolence.
, after all the laurels and roses of victory, had to deal with the thorny ways of a profession tedious, difficult, and exceptional.
He was obliged to create his own working machinery, to drill and instruct his corps of teachers, himself first learning the secrets of the desired instruction.
He was also obliged to keep the infant Institution fresh in the interest and goodwill of the public, and to give it a place among the recognized benefactions of the Commonwealth
From the bright little world of old New York, from relatives and friends, music and laughter, fun and frolic, she came to live in an Institution, a bleak, lofty house set on a hill, four-square to all the winds that blew; with high-studded rooms, cold halls paved with white and gray marble, echoing galleries; where three fourths of the inmates were blind, and the remaining fourth were devoting their time and energies to the blind.
The Institution was two miles from Boston
, where the friends of her girlhood lived: an unattractive district stretched between, traversed once in two hours by omnibuses, the only means of transport.
Again, her life had been singularly free from responsibility.
First her Aunt Francis, then her sister Louisa, had “kept house” in Bond Street; Julia
had been a flower of the field, taking no thought for food or raiment; her sisters chose and bought her clothes, had her dresses made, and put them on her. Her studies, her music, her dreams, her compositions-and, it must