Citation
Carl, the young emigrant : a memoir of schools and schoolmasters

Material Information

Title:
Carl, the young emigrant : a memoir of schools and schoolmasters
Creator:
Alexander, James W.
Alexander, James W. (James Waddel), 1804-1859
American Sunday-School Union.
Publisher:
American Sunday-School Union,
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
233 p. : ill. ; 20 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Christian life -- Juvenile fiction.
Immigrants -- Juvenile fiction. -- United States
Schools -- Juvenile fiction.
Students -- Juvenile fiction.
Teachers -- Juvenile fiction.
Bldn -- 1851.
Spatial Coverage:
United States -- Pennsylvania -- Philadelphia.
United States -- New York -- New York.
United States -- Pennsylvania -- Philadelphia.
United States -- New York -- New York.

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Electronic version available on the World Wide Web as part of the PALMM Project "Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1850-1869 (NEH (PA-23536-00))".
Funding:
Brittle Books Program
Funding:
Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1850-1869 (NEH PA-23536-00).

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University of Florida
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University of Florida
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Resource Identifier:
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AAA4974 ( NOTIS )
ALK0027 ( NOTIS )
04724906 ( OCLC )
51223925 ( OCLC )

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CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.







CARL,
THE YOUNG EMIGRANT:
A MEMOIR OF

SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLMASTERS.

WRITTEN FOR THE AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION,

BY

REV. J. W. ALEXANDER.

AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION:

1122 CHESTNUT STREET, PHILADELPHIA.
375 BROADWAY, NEW YORK.



ened LS DL

Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1851, by the
AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION,

in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the Eastern District of
Pennsyivania.



$C

&8@~ No books are published by the AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION
without the sanction of the Committee of Publication, consisting of
fourteen members, from the following denominations of Christians, viz.
Baptist, Methodist, Congregationalist, Episcopal, Presbyterian, and Re-
formed Dutch. Not more than three of the members can be of tha
same denomination, and no book can be published to which any mem
ber of the Committee shall object.



PREFACKH.



THE pages which follow contain scenes
and dialogues, rather than a story or plot.
If the lessons which are offered should
gain the attention of young persons, and
especially of young teachers, I shall not
regret the little veil of fiction which is
thrown overthem. Neither argument nor
observation has lessened my respect for
the moral narrative, the apologue, or the
parable, and there is good reason to be-
lieve that the present century will not
destroy a predilection common to all pre-
ceding centuries, for this vehicle of in-

struction.
1« 6



6 PREFACE.

If. the tale shall win one additional
favour or kindness for the European emi-
grant to our shores, I shall thankfully
rejoice. Hqually glad shall I be, if it
contribute to elevate the name of the
teacher in any one’s estimate, or to cheer
on any beginner in the path of instruction.
The book, such as it is, is for the lovers of
children : those who are not of this frater-
nity had better lay itdown. The religious
truths inculcated are increasingly dear to
me, and my humble prayer is that they
may be impressed on the heart of every

reader.



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



CHAPTER I.

THE OAKS.

Tux boys were all gathered under a spread-
ing chestnut-tree, not far from which a stone-
quarry had been opened and then left to grow
up with gorse, brambles and tufts of grass and
weeds. It is such a cavern as children love,
affording a hundred amusements to those who
are inquisitive. Barry was, for the time, one of
the boys. He sat in the shade of the mighty
tree, with book in hand, but unopened. His
eyes were looking over at the distant hills, and
the intermediate landscape checkered with field
and orchard, and seamed with hedges and
brooks. But the noise and antics of â„¢ young



8 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



companions kept him from musing long on any
one thing. Grave as he might be, it was im-
possible for him not to turn his head and smile,
when he saw the cheery faces and high gambols
of these healthy, happy fellows. Now they are
trying to bury the Newfoundland dog in new
hay, from which he rises like an animated hay-
cock. Now they are repeating the experiment
with Bob Bolton, the biggest and best-humoured
of the set. Now they turn somersets down the
green side of the quarry; and now they are off,
like a herd of antelopes, in a race to the foot
of the green hill, where a silver rivulet marks
the lowest spot in the extensive field.
Timorous parents are sometimes greatly
afraid of bones being broken or health being
endangered in such sports. But they are ig-
norant of the safeguards of Providence, and
occasionally interfere to the injury of. their
children. It is wonderful how rare such evils
are, among tens of thousands of instances. I
think I have observed that in many families
the eldest sons are the most feeble and fearful:



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 9



when the little flock increases, the sports be-
some more gay, and the adventure more bold.
And home-sports, such as these, when unaccom-
panied by ill tempers and ill words, are good
and laudable, even though their noise should
sometimes jar on the ear of the nervous. Un-
less we would rear a generation of effeminate
creatures, we must put up with some noise and
some soiling and tearing of raiment.

Barry was almost disposed to join in the
sport ; though he half-doubted whether his dig-
nity as an usher might not suffer by the con-
descension. Thescruple was unnecessary: but
Barry had not reached the point in his expe-
rience where this is found out.

When the sun began to draw towards his

rigs
a
oA eee

“« oud
eo:

setting, he rang his little bell, and was instantly

surrounded by the whole company, at least
twenty in number. There they sat or stood
around him, red and panting and covered with
healthful moisture. What sight on earth is
lovelier or more hopeful? Who is happier
than a loving teacher? Barry felt this, and



te

10 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



gazed on them with a new and swelling emotion.
What hope, what joy, what confidence in these
countenances! Even two or three lads, who
had been sullen and refractory in the school-
room, were here contented and docile, and
clung to him, with a readiness to do whatever
he should order.

“Look yonder, boys,”’ said Barry, rising as
he spoke, and stretching his hand toward the
west. All the boys turned in the same direc-
tion, and their faces were illuminated with the
blush of the setting sun, which at that instant
was just sinking among a clump of distant trees.
“Oh, how grand! Oh, how beautiful!’ burst
from several. Indeed, the sight was glorious.

“What do you think, boys?” said Barry.

_ “Can you see any thing like that in a show ¢

Can any painting, or any panorama equal that 2”

Various exclamations were uttered by the
more animated boys, for the spectacle was un-
commonly fine, even in a land where we have
to bless God for so many brilliant sunsets.
Little Carl was silent. His hands were crossed



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 1!



upon his breast, and his blue eye drank in the
lights of the west, as if none had been present.

“‘Car',” said Barry, turning to the little fo-
reigner, “that is what you call, in Germany, the
Abendroth, and it is a beautiful word.”—*“ Yes,
sir,” said Carl, and the tears filled his eyes:
he wiped them away with his little checked
handkerchief. The boys were affected: they
knew he was thinking of “Bingen on the
Rhine.”

Burnham, who led the school, turned to
Mack and said, in a low voice, “ Mack, there’s
something in the Dutchman, after all; let’s not
quiz him so hard !”

A distant bugle-note bréke up their senti-
mental gazing ; it was the signal for the even-
ing worship. Barry led the way to the school,
and the boys fell into an irregular procession.
It was plain they had received benefit by even
this momentary contemplation of a great ob-
ject in nature. Why should it not be a part of
education to draw forth the admiration of youth



12 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT



towards such wonders, and to graft upon them
the needful lessons ?

Dr. Newman was not the man to neglect
such meaus of usefulness. He had been gazing
on the same western sky, as he sat in the por-
tico, holding the hand of his motherless daugh-
ter. Both were in mourning, but both seemed
revived by a transient gleam from the sinking
luminary. As Dr. Newman led the way into
the little chapel, the lingering rays of the sun-
set were just gilding its eastern wall. He
rose in the pulpit, and read the beautiful 104th
Psalm. At the 19th verse, the youthful wor-
shippers all felt, at least for the moment, the
meaning of those words, The sun knoweth his
going down. They were therefore very atten-
tive, when the Doctor began his little address :

‘‘My dear children,” said he, “1 dare say
you have been looking at the beautiful sunset.
It is good to do so. Those lovely curtains of
coloured clouds are hung there to attract our
eye. They are pictures in the book of nature,
from God’s own hand.

'



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 13



“See how God directs us to study these works
of creation. It is plainly so in the chapter we
have just read. So also in other places. In
the book of Job (xxxviii., xxxix., xl., xli.) God
’ speaks out of the whirlwind; but all his discourse
is concerning the wonders of creation.

‘“‘We must not confine ourselves to the book
of nature. If we had no other guide, its cha-
racters would be unintelligible. They would
speak a strange language. The heathen have
the book of nature; but they read it amiss.
Blessed be God for this other Book, the Book
of revelation!” (and here Dr. Newman laid his
hand on the great folio Bible which lay before
him.) “Here we learn, what brilliant sunsets
can never teach us, that God so loved the world
as to give his only begotten Son, that whoso-
ever believeth in him should not perish, but
have everlasting life. But, after we have learned
this blessed gospel-truth from the Scriptures,
we can come back to the book of nature, with
its beautiful sunsets, and behold, in every hue
and every cloud, an emblem of God’s love and

: 2 |



14 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.

mercy. Therefore, my children, believe in
God, and then, when you turn your eyes to-
wards the crimson and gold of the gorgeous
west, you may say to yourselves, ‘The God
who displays those lovely signs, is my Father, *
through Jesus Christ.’ ”’

Then they joined in singing the following
version of the 19th Psalm :

I love the volume of thy word;

What light and joy those leaves afford
T'o souls benighted and distressed !

Thy precepts guide my doubtful way,

Thy fear forbids my feet to stray,
Tuy promise leads my heart to rest.

Thy threatenings wake my slumbering eyes,
And warn me where my danger lies;

But ’tis thy blessed gospel, Lord,
That makes my guilty conscience clean,
Converts my soul, subdues my sin,

And gives a free, but large reward.

Who knows the error of his thoughts?
My God, forgive my secret faults,

And from presumptuous sins restrain.
Accept my poor attempts of praise,
That I have read thy book of grace

And book of nature not in vain.



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRAN'T. 15



It is a happy thing for our children, when
they go to a school where religious service is
not made a drudgery, but is connected with
pleasing associations. Such was the case at
the Oaks. There was no boy who remained
there long who did not love the sound of the
bugle, which called him to this short but inter-
esting exercise. Dr. Newman almost always
made an address, but it was seldom longer than
that which has been given above. It was cus-
tomary at the Oaks, after tea, to spend some
time in walking, or, if the time of year were
forbidding, in athletic games, in a large co-
vered play-room, called the hippodrome. This
was not indeed the hour for their regular gym-
nastic exercise ; but it was spent in this place,
because of the large space allowed for walking
and running, and for forming little groups for
conversation. However inclement the weather
might be, here the boys found themselves warm
and sheltered; and the recreation was. good
before returning to the short tasks of the even-
ing. But the plan of the school did not admit



16 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



of much work by candle-light, for early rising
was the order of the day. Into this hippo-
drome the larger boys went at all times during
play-hours; and here they were assembled in
considerable force on the evening in question.
A large lamp of stained glass hung from the
centre of the roof, and cast a pleasant gleam
over the space below. A knot of gay young
fellows, in loose’ summer-dress, was seen in
.the inner circle, some leaning on benches, and,
some arm-in-arm, against the column in the
midst. It was evident that some plan was on
foot; for boys are planning creatures, and it is
well when their schemes involve no mischief.
I am glad to say, such was now the case.
They were talking in a low tone about the pale
German boy, Carl Adler. Carl had come to
school with scarcely any knowledge of English,
and a few months had not sufficed to remove
his oddities of pronunciation. He could not
for his life say, ‘‘ Thirty thousand thorns thrust
_ through the thick of their thumbs.’’ The at-
tempt to utter this formidable formula, which



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 17



he never refused, used to produce peals of
laughter, such as are heard only from a group of
boys. Few at this age can abstain from run-
ning rigs on a comrade. But Carl, though he
used to redden, and hang his head, never lost
his temper; and this won him some favour.
Though he could not talk English well, he was
the best Frenchman in the school; indeed, he
spoke the language fluently. Then he was far
before the rest of his age in Latin. He could
swim, wrestle, and fence ; and was always ready
to do a favour. That evening, the boys had
observed him weeping under the chestnut-tree.

Boys are as sagacious about such things as
men: they knew he was thinking of home, and
the word home is sweet at a boarding-school.
But little Carl’s home was far over the sea, on
the Rhine ; and he was an orphan; and, what
was more, the boys had learned, within «a few
days, that he was poor, and that his uncle, Mr.
Schneckenburg, had written to Dr. Newman
that he must be taken away and put to a trade. ,
Now they began to regret their ridicule of the

2*



18 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



stranger, and were busy contriving some way
to help him : for they could not bear the thought
of losing so amiable and clever a companion.
““T'll tell you what it is,’”’ said Murdock, whe
was the son of Captain Murdock, of the army,
“I'll give all my pocket-money for the year,
rather than let the Dutchman suffer.”’
“Dutchman!” cried Merriman, who slept in
the same chamber, “I tell you, he is no Dutch-
man; he is a German boy, from Bingen on
the Rhine, and his father was a judge in that
town.”
“‘Never mind, Merriman,’ said Murdock,
*‘ Dutchman or German is all one; he is a fine
little man, if he does call think, sink, and bath,
vass. Put my name down for as much as you
choose. Dr. Newman has my money for the
quarter, and he says it’s too much by half.”
“We are all ready,” said Mack, who was a
square-built, rosy-cheeked, brave-looking boy :
“‘T don’t believe there is a fellow on our side
who will refuse to give something—all he can~=
but the thing is, how shall we do it?”



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 19



“True enough,” said Burnham; “it will
never dq to hurt the little man’s feelings. He
is quiet, and he is poor, but then he is very
proud ;—no, not proud, exactly; I don’t mean
quite that. But he is above begging, and
above being helped; and he never would forgive
us if he knew what we are saying.”

“There is no danger of that,”’ said Merri-
man; ‘‘for I left him writing a letter to his
sister, in those funny, little, slanting, peaked
German letters, that we used to quiz him about.
I’m sorry I laughed at him so much, for once
I saw him dropping tears over the sheet so
fast that it must have blotted the paper. He.
will not be down for an hour.”

“T tell you,” said Murdock, “we are in
danger of all going wrong, unless we take ad-
vice ; and there is no better way than to talk
it over with Mr. Barry. He is always ready
to help everybody, and he thinks the world
and all of Adler.”

“Good! good!” cried several; “ Barry 1s
the man.”



20 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



“Yes,” said Mack ; “and what is more, Mr,
Barry has been in Germany, and understands
a good deal of the language. Iam glad you
thought of it.”

So it was agreed to lay the matter before
Mr. Barry; the boys meanwhile determining
to be ready with their contributions. The bell
rang, and they went to the school-room, with
faces full of earnestness and animation.





CABL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 21

CHAPTER II.

TRIALS OF THE EMIGRANT SCHOOL-BOY.

Tue cooler days of summer, in our American
climate, are admirably suited for open-air exer-
cise; and boys at school know how to enjoy
them. Did you ever know a healthy youth
who did not like to spend such days out of
doors? Especially at large schools, where they
have not their parents to go to, young persons
seek recreation in the fields and woods. Here
they learn a thousand things which are useful
to them in after-life. Ft is not the least import-
ant part of their education. For this reason,
those schools are best where the pupils have a
wide range of meadow and grove, pleasant brooks
and safe bathing-places. This was remarkably |
true of the Oaks, which was so called on ac-
count of a number of great and ancient trees,
relics of the forest, which were scattered in
clumps upon the hill-side in front of the house.



22 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



It had been the seat of an old English family
before the Revolution, and bore many g@harac-
teristic marks of the aristocratic mansion. The
spacious but irregular house was of hewn stone,
as were the stables and offices. A gentle rill
stole along the bottom of the declivity, passing,
in its course, through an old-fashioned spring-
house, which was of snowy whiteness, and over-
shadowed by a gigantic syeamore. A green lane
behind the principal dwelling ran off among
cherry-trees, till it was lost man extensive wood,
and, through this shaded walk, conducted to a
stream called by an Indian name, Wicomico.
Upon the bank of this stream several boys
were seated during the noon of a half-holiday.
The voice of Carl Adler might have been
heard in pensive but continued discourse: he
was giving an account of his native town on
the Rhine. I will not attempt to imitate his
broken English, for it is not my purpose to ex-
cite a smile at his expense: and what he said
was worthy of no ridicule. He was telling of
the rapids in the Rhine, near Bingen, and of



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 23



the antiquity of this little town, which is said
to have been known to the Romans. |

“ But now,” said he, “I feel that I am quite
an American. My uncle lives in America,



and” The boys knew what he meant:
his father and mother were dead.

“Yes,” said Merriman, “you are as much
an American as any of us; and, before the year
is out, you will lose all the little German burr
that is on your tongue.”

“He is losing it already,” said Burnham,
‘Who could have spoken the address of An-
tony better than Adler did last night ?”

Carl smiled, and said, “I am glad you have
come to think better of me. Everybody is
kinder to me than before. For you must know,
I was beginning to think I never should open
my lips without uttering something laughable.”

“Come, come,” said Merriman, laying an
arm across his shoulder, “no more of that.
Let by-gones be by-gones. You can takea joke;
and that is the surest way to avoid one. And
if anybody imposes on you, let me hear of is.”



24 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



“© And me,” —‘“‘ and me,”’—said two or three
at once. It was evident that some re able
interest had been awakened in the stranger.
Carl, however, drew himself up, and said, “I
believe you have all found out that I do not
often need help. I’m not fond of quarrels, but
I was taught by my mother not to fear.”

‘¢Where shall youspend the holidays?” asked
Mack.

“Heigh-ho! that is more than I can tell,”
replied Carl. ‘Probably my holidays will be-
gin rather too soon.”

‘¢ What do you mean by that, Carl ?”’

‘Why, I mean that I am going away sooner
than I wished. Instead of going to college, as
I hoped, I am informed by my uncle that I am
to be placed with a mathematical-instrument
maker in New York.”

There was silence for some minutes. Though
all had expected this news, no one knew what
tosay. At last, the smallest boy, Frank Shaw,
looked up in Carl’s face, and said, “ Carl, it
will never do; we can’t let you go. Whatcan we



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT, 25



do te keep you? Can’t we write a long letter to
Mr. Snakebug, and get him to let you stay ?”

“Schneckenburg is my uncle’s name,” said
Carl, with a smile; “but his mind is made up,
and he has good reasons for what he does,”

“‘ What reasons ?” asked Frank, eagerly ; but
the other boys prevented a reply.

‘Never mind about the reasons,”’ said Mer-
riman; “TIT hope something will turn up to
change your uncle’s purpose.—But who are
these horsemen ?”’

As he spoke, Dr. Newman rode up, In com-
pany with Mr. Barry. They had been riding
out to the neighbouring village, and now paused
to chat a few minutes with the boys. This
broke up the conversation for a moment, The
group was dispersed, and presently no one was
left on the bank but Carl, who waited a few ”
moments, and then began, with a sweet, touching |
Voice, to sing a little German song, beginning:

Kennst du das Land, wo die Citronen biithn 2*
cy
* Goethe. |
38





26 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



Presently he walked slowly along the forest-
path leading back to the Oaks. Why did he
60 often pause under the green branches? Why
did he reverently lift his cap, and look up-
wards? Why did the drops twinkle in his eye,
while his pale, thin lips moved? Why did he
take that little worn volume from his bosom,
and undo the silver clasp, and kiss the gilded
name upon the cover, and eagerly turn over
the pages, as if in search for some passage ?
These questions may be answered by some
readers without my prompting.

The truth was, Carl was a boy of many deep
reflections. He had been brought early into
the school of sorrow, and had borne the yoke
in his youth.t This had kept alive in him the
instructions of his mother and his grandfather,
now inheaven. Among the scholars, he found
none to sympathize with his serious feelings.
Some of them had even laughed at him when
he would sing his German hymns, and he even

_—-

{ Lam. iii. 27,



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 27



began to feel a shyness creeping over him in
regard to religious things. The only person
to whom he dared to open his mind was Mr.
Barry; for Barry had been in Germany, and
was himself an orphan; and, what was more,
Barry did not conceal his persuasion that reli-
gion is the main thing, and that no one can be
happy without it. It was, therefore, with plea-
sure that Carl saw, on leaving the wood, that
Barry was walking towards him, in the green
lane, having given his horse to a servant.

“Carl,” said he, with a joyful look, “mein
freund, fassen wir uns kurz: hier sind die
Briefe!” (But I must give the substance in
English.) “ Here, friend Carl—quick, my boy!
Here are the letters!” And upon this, he placed
in the trembling hand of the boy a couple of
sealed papers. He lost not a moment in tear-
ing them open. As he read, he turned pale and
red by turns, and at length burst into tears.

“ Well,” said Barry, “what have you to say
now ?”’

“T have to say,” said Carl, looking upward,



23 CARL, THE YUUNG EMIGRAN'S.



“that God is a hearer of prayer. How soon
has he answered my poor little petitions! See!
See! Mr. Barry—read for yourself! I’m too
happy to tell you! I shall stay, I shall stay!
No leaving school for me! No instrument:
maker! Uncle says I shall stay! Oh! hap
py, happy Carl Adler! Thanks, thanks!’

Barry could not but be affected by the joy
of his little pupil. Boys began to gather
around. There are few secrets at their age.
By general request, Mr. Barry read aloud
parts of the letters, by which it appeared that a
grand-aunt of Carl’s, in Darmstadt, had author-
ized Mr. Schneckenburg, who was her son, to
expend as much money as should be necessary
for the education of Carl and his sisters, Char-
lotte and Ursula.

It is hard to say whether the little common-
wealth of the Oaks was most gratified by the
approaching fireworks, or by the news about
Carl. While he was only “the Dutchman,”
he was a butt for every one’s arrow; ‘as soon
as he became “poor little Carl,” he grew inte

.



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 29



a favourite. There was much shaking of hands
and congratulation ; and, what is worthy of no-
tice, none of the boys made any allusion to
their plans for his relief, which were now hap-
pily frustrated.

Some of the duller and coarser boys thought
it odd that Carl should frequently be caught
with wet eyes, at a time when he had so much
cause for joy. They perhaps learned to un-
derstand the thing better when they grew older.
As for Carl himself, I will not undertake to
explain his emotions. It is an effect of early
grief to give the appearance of greater age;
and Carl had, at fifteen, gone through more
vicissitudes, seen more countries, and learnt
more lessons, than many a man of forty. Well
was it for him that he had a gay, elastic temper;
and better still, that, he had been bred in the
right ways of the Lord. See him, in the dusk
of the evening, in his chamber. The shadow
is deepened by the enormous oak which extends
its branches almost to the eaves of the house.

The vociferous sports of the school below form
8*



80 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



a contrast to the silence of the chamber. Carl
sits in the window, with his arms folded, while
next his bosom he has two miniatures, and a
letter in one of his hands. What can he be
thinking about, if not the blessed days when
he sat with his father and mother under the
lime-trees of his native town? As he mused,
he grew sadder and sadder, till at length he
was about to become quite womanisk in his
tenderness, when, all of a sudden, a smart blow
on the shoulder woke him from his revery, and
he looked up, to discover that Barry stood over
him.

“Come, come, Adler,” said the usher ; “this
will never do! There is such a thing as pon-
dering too, much on one’s troubles.”

“Troubles, Mr. Barry! I was thinking of
my joys; how happy I was at home—and how
happy I ought to be now!”

‘Yes, you have much to be thankful for—
youth, health, strength, friends, and new pros-
pects of education. Don’t mope, don’t give
way to melancholy.”



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 31



“You mistake me, Mr. Barry. I never was
mure brimful of joy in my life, and yet I can’t
help thinking and thinking. And I have just
been saying to myself, Oh, how happy would
father and mother be, if they could see me so
well off!” “_

‘They are happier where they are, Carl.
Heaven is better than earth. Who knows but
that they are even now informed of your condi-
tion, and rejoicing init? At any rate, they are,
we trust, in Christ’s presence, where there is
fulness of joy; and the thought of this ought
to lead you to follow their steps. But come
out, and take some exercise: you can never
fulfil your duty in life without strength of
body ; and you will never have strength of body
without exercise.”

Down they went, for a long walk upon the
high-road, where there were houses in abun-
dance, and carriages and horsemen and pedes-
trians enough to break the thread of Carl’s
pensive thoughts. This was exactly what Barry
intended; and he further promoted the same





32 CARL, THE YOUNG pen

end, by a constant series of questions about
things the most remote from his companion’s
present affairs. Some people have yet to learn
that this is the true method of quieting dis-
turbed minds and diverting sickly thoughts.
But just then, amore violent interruption took
place. A horse suddenly appeared, running
away with a carriage, in which two ladies were
seated. The driver had been thrown out; and
the vehicle was rapidly approaching a rude
bridge, over which it seemed impossible that
they should pass unharmed. Barry disengaged
himself instantly from Carl, and rushed to-
wards the frantic animal. What he appre-
hended really occurred; the passage was too
narrow, the carriage was overturned into the
dry bed of a little summer-brook, and the horse,
entangled in the harness, lay struggling and
kicking, in the most alarming manner, while
the women, really-in the greatest peril, were
shrieking, and unable to extricate themselves.
Barry threw himself on the floundering horse,
and, holding his head close to the ground, pre-

/



te

CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 33



vented his rising, while he rapidly separated
him from the vehicle; all the while shouting to
Carl to take care of the women. It seemed a
most dangerous position for a man no stronger
than Barry; but he succeeded in separating the
horse, which he took out and made fast to a
neighbouring post, and afterwards repaired to
the green bank where Carl had deposited his
charge. One of the women was unhurt, the
other was bruised and bleeding, and shortly
the young farmer, who had been thrown from
his seat, came up, more frightened than hurt,
and full of apprehension about his wife and
sister.

As they resumed their walk, Carl said to
himself, ‘One thing is certain, whatever the
fellows may say, Mr. Barry is far from being
a coward: I shall tell this to Mack and Mer.
riman, the next ‘ime they utter such a slander |
on our usher,”’



€

84 GARI, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.

CHAPTER III.

WHAT MAKES THE HAPPY TEACHER?

To those who love it, teaching is as full of
interest as hunting to the huntsman, or flowers
to the gardener. Why should it not be as
interesting to contemplate different kinds of
boys as different kinds of minerals and plants?
Why should we not examine the ways and ha-
bits of girls, as eagerly as those of fish, fowl,
and insects? Next to parents, the persons
who get the clearest insight into children and
youth are teachers. Some of these only teach
for a living; it is a drudgery to them; they
mean presently to leave it and go to some-
thing else: how can such persons be happy
‘eachers? Others love their work, and ask
no better employment. Hence, they always
mect their pupils with a smile, and hear every
lesson with animation. The scholars, in their



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 35



turn, see this, and are all alive; teacher and
scholar pull together, and there is more pro-
gress made in a week than at one of the
drudging schools in a month.

“What!” exclaimed Miss Hotchkin, who was

on a visit at the Oaks,—“What! take plea- ~

sure in teaching such a set of uncombed colts
as those yonder!” And she pointed with her
parasol to the green, over which the boys, just
dismissed for their nooning, were bounding
and shouting. “The thing is impossible, Mr.
Barry.”

‘I dare say, you think so,” replied Barry ;
“yet, I say what I think and feel. It is a
positive pleasure to me to be their teacher.
And, then, allow me to speak a word for the
young fellows. They are now in their summer
trim and school-jackets, and you see them just
at the moment of release; but some of them are
already gentlemen, in every sense of the word,
and several of them are already scholars.”

“But such a noise, Mr. Barry! And such
violence !””



36 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT,



‘Noise, madam, is not always amiss. Ina
sick room, at a funeral, during worship or
study, noise would be altogether out of place.
But what say you to the noise of a mill or a
cascade? And what say you to a pack of
hounds, a parrot, or an aviary? It is as
much the nature of growing boys to exert
their limbs and lungs as for young kids to do
the same. It is healthful, it is unavoidable,
and to me it is agreeable.”

**QOh, sir, you shock me! Had I boys under
my charge, they should never be allowed to
bellow like those fellows,—nor’’—

‘‘Nor,” said Barry, smiling, “to have a torn
coat, or a speck on their shoes; all should be
starch and rose-water. It is not in this planet,
however, Miss Hotchkin, that your ideal semi-
nary can be conducted. The earth will soil,
cloth will wear, and youthful spirits will break
over the brim: our great task is to keep mat-
ters within bounds, and to prevent. ill words
and ill tempers.”

‘Can you ever persuade me, sir, that those



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 37



vehement fellows, who are now so busy in sad-
dling yonder calf, are fit for study ?”

“‘Among the first boys in the school,’’ re-
plied Barry, ‘and among the best in every
sense. You now see them full of spirit and
fun; you will presently see them silent, col-
lected, and studious, as eager to master a diffi-
culty in algebra or grammar as yesterday they
were te win at a rowing-match.”’

“You amaze me! I thought play and study
were exact opposites.”’

“So they are; but the charm of life is made
up of these delightful opposites. It is the
transition from hilarity to seriousness which
gives a zest to school-boy life, never to be
forgotten. I sometimes think we Americans
might gain something by carrying the same a
little farther into life. It might prevent some
wrinkles and gray hairs, even though it should
interrupt us a little in our race after money
or office.”

“So you let them do as they please ?”

“By no means, wanes! You see they are



88 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



this moment under my supervision: in half
an hour, I shall be relieved by Mr. Cole. Let
a single step be made into the field of impro-
priety or danger, and it becomes our duty to
check them. But why repress the genial flow
of a season which can never return? Even
Paul could say, without a word of disapproval,
‘When I was a child, I spake as a child, I un-
derstood as a child, I thought as a child.’ Dr.
Newman often says to the boys—and I agree
with hin—‘ Work while you work: play while
you play.’ ”’

“They are too merry, by half. Just think
of the troubles which await them in life!
What a preparation is this for them ?”

“‘T might answer you in the words of Gray,
written in view of such a scene:

‘To each his sufferings: all are men, ~,
Condemned alike to groan ;
The tender, for another’s pain,
The unfeeling, for his own.
Yet, ah! why should they know their fate,
Since sorrow never comes too late, |



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 39



And happiness too swiftly flies?
Thought would disturb their paradise.
No more; where ignorance is bliss,

Tis folly to be wise.’

Bat,” continued Barry, “I will not rest on
the poet’s answer, which is open to some ex-
ception. It is safer to say, what is unques-
tionable, that high animal spirits and the in-
dulgence in animated boyish sports is in no
degree inconsistent with the most sober views
of life that are proper in boyhood. Surely,
you would not have a boy to look on his future
course with the eyes of an old man! God
never intended it. Attempt to rear a child on
this plan, and you violently and cruelly resist
Providence.. No, no! If you would make
men of them, send your boys to a school
where they shall have wide range, free exer-
gcize, and where the teachers shall not be in
perpetual fear lest they break their necks.
If observation teaches me any thing, it is, that
they will study all the better for it.—But here
is my colleague, Mr. Cole, who takes my seat



40 CARL, TRE YOUNG EMIGRANT.

wae

of inspection, while I go to correct the Latin
exercises.”



Mr. Cole was a tall, raw-boned young man,
who had lately taken the place of second
usher in Dr. Newman’s school. His eyes
were deeply set in his head, and he wore spec-
tacles. His smile was so reluctant and sour,
that the boys used to say he laughed with the
wrong side of his mouth. Yet he was a con-
scientious and a learned young man, and had
gained a number of prizes for solving tough
problems in mathematics.

He approached the bay-window, in which
the visitor was seated, and made a very angu-
lar and jerking bow. It was well meant, and
Miss Hotchkin received it in good part,
though she could not help saying to herself,
‘How much some people fail in the graces of
life, by overdoing matters and not letting _
themselves alone !”’ |

“This spot,” said Mr. Cole, ‘is one on which
{ must intrude, as it is the only one which
commands a view of my entire field of battle,



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 41



and it will not do to leave these outlaws te
themselves.”

‘‘Outlaws! do you call them, Mr. Cole?
Are they not scholars? And are they not
gentlemen’s sons ?” |

Mr. Cole smiled, in his peculiar way, and
said, ““You may be sure, madam, they are
such that I would not stay another day among
them, if it were not to enable me to prepare
for a professorship of which I have the offer.”

“Then, you do not love teaching ?”

“Love it! ‘Talk of loving to drive cattle,
or herd swine! No animal known to me is so
annoying as a half-grown boy.”

And here Mr. Cole picked off from his coat-
tail an impudent label, which he had just disco-
vered, and which some wag of an urchin had
attached to him by means of a pin.

_ “Why, Mr. Cole, your estimate of boys is
not like that of Mr. Barry.”

“No, no, indeed it is not. Mr. Barry is a
young man of genius; especially versed in the

modern tongues; not bad, I must own, even
4*



42 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



in the higher mathematics; a good fellow,
too,—but, but,’ —

“But what ?”’

‘“‘But he is a boy himself; and, therefore,
he loves boys; loves to teach them, loves to
be with them—strange to say, loves to play
with them. He therefore looks on his situa-
tion here with eyes very different from mine.”
And here Mr. Cole wiped his spectacles.

‘‘ Youare very right, Mr. Cole. This way of
encouraging freedom and mirth in striplin gs, and
letting them vault over fences, run iike wild
goats, and bellow like oxen, is a way I was not
brought up to. And as to teaching them, I
can judge what it is, by an attempt I made to
teach a chambermaid of ours to read: my tem-
per was so curdled by her stupidity, that we
never got-beyond the alphabet. But what suc-
cess has Mr. Barry on his plan ?”

“Oh, better than-I can account for. No
classes show better than his. Indeed, truth
forces me to say, that his pupils make extraor-
dinary progress.”



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 45



‘Perhaps it is because they like him so
much ?”’

“I dare say that is it, madam. They will
do any thing for him, though he is perfectly in-
exorable as to his rules and regulations, and, in
some respects, is the strictest man in the house.
But he has singular ways of interesting them
in their work. Indced, he seems to be actually
interested himself, and goes over a geography
lesson with as much zest as if he were the
youngest among them, and were getting the
lesson with them.”

“That is singular, indeed; but it shows how
light his labour is.”’

“Tt does, Miss Hotchkin. And all this is in
great contrast to my case; for I go into school
with the spirit of a turnkey, and come out with
a wish not to behold the face of a lad during
the interval.”

i Well, well, Mr. Cole, we all have our weak
points and our strong points; and it is very
plain that neither you nor I were ever intended
to gain eminence as teachers.”



44 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



Mr. Cole reddened, and said, ‘“‘ Excuse me,
madam; you do not exactly take my meaning.
I would not have you to suppose that I am de-
ficient as a teacher. On the contrary, I have
the pleasure of believing that I am as well in-
structed and as laborious as any man here.
But, the truth is, [do my work against my will.”

‘¢Then, sir, be assured, you do it poorly,”
said Miss Hotchkin, witha shrill laugh, for she
loved to say things which sting. ‘Yes, you
do it poorly. So should I, but I take good
care to shun every thing like school-teaching,
and so should you. Good morning, Mr. Cole.”
And here she tripped away, to walk five miles
before dinner, and to gain spirits for a party
in the evening.

Mr. Cole, though somewhat mortified at the
turn the conversation had taken, was led to
some new reflections. Especially was he drawn
to consider the secret of his past troubles as a
teacher. These reflections were much seconded
by aremarkable coincidence. It was the day
for him to correct the English compositions of

/



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 45



,
the boys. Among these was a little one by
Garl Adler. Here it is, in its corrected form;
for it had numerous violations of idiom.

Carl's Composition.

Methought I was admitted one evening to a
room full of boys and girls, who had their
books before them. ‘The teacher seemed to be
a capable and worthy person, but still the chil-
dren did not advance. Some were careless,
some were stupid, and some were cross. The
teacher was concerned, and even vexed. He
went first to one, and then to another. Head-
vised, he threatened, he even chastised them.
Still there was little progress, and the poor
teacher went to bed quite disheartened; but
before he fell asleep, he offered a prayer that
he might know what it was that he needed.

The next morning, I looked into the same
room, and saw the same teacher, and the same
little boys and girls, getting the same lessons.
But what a change! All were on the alert;
ali were diligent; all were delighted. The



46 CARL, THE ZOUNG EMIGRANT.



frowns and the rod were both laid aside. Joy
played upon all the happy countenances; and
the happiest of all was that of the teacher. °

But now I perceived a new inmate in the
room. Wherever the teacher went among his
children, a bright and beautiful form accom-
panied him, or hovered over him. It was
fair and benignant, and smiled gently on every
part of the work. Lapproached with diffidence,
and asked the name of this new assistant. With
a heavenly smile, she turned to me, and an-
swered, ‘I am Love.”’

It was only one instance, out of many, in
which scholars instruct their teachers, without
knowing it. The lesson was not altogether lost
on Mr. Cole, though he never carried it fully
into practice.



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 47

CHAPTER IV.

LESSONS OUT-OF-DOORS.

A LARGE garden affords some of the best
tmusements and safeguards, of either family or
school. Not only does it keep the young folks
out of mischief, but it benefits their health and
teaches them many useful lessons. The gar-
den at the Oaks had been originally laid out
for a gentleman’s estate. The great green-
house still remained ; the grape-vines were an-
cient and knotty, and clambering over the
largest trees. The box-borders were’ several
feet high, and made fine hiding-places for the
boys. A trumpet-creeper had hung its green
mantle over the whole side of a building which
lay on one boundary of the garden. In the
middle stood a stubborn-looking holly, beset by
its prickly palisade, with every leaf separately
armed; a noble tree, both for beauty and for
associations.



48 CARL, THE YCUNG EMIGRANT.



When a boy came to school, he was allowed
free access to this garden and the tool-house;
but it was not until he had been there a month
that he was allowed to have a plot of ground
to cultivate for himself. Before this month
was out, more than half the young gentlemen
threw up the spade and dibble: but there were
always some who continued to till their little
gardens. These were separated by narrow
gravel-walks, edged with box. The boys were
permitted to choose any sort of cultivation —
vegetables, flowers, or fruits; the only condition
being that they must stick to what they began.

Donald, the old gardener, was invested with
absolute authority in the enforcement of these
rules; and sometimes the young gardeners were
onthe point of insurrection. Like other emeutes,
however, in larger governments, these were
mostly unsuccessful. Princes have smiles as
well as frowns, rewards as well as punishments;
and though ‘“‘ King Donald,” as he was called,
had neither blue ribands nor embassies in his
gift, he had green-gages, seckel-pears, and de-



CARu, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 49

—_—_—

licious grapes and peaches. Hence, the latter
part of summer was almost always a time of
peace in his government ; there was little work
end much fruit, and subjects were exceedingly
quiet.

One day, about noon, when every thing was
radiant in the sun—it was about the middle of
August—Donald was cleaning and trimming
the dead leaves from a fine pomegranate-tree,
wheeled out on the north terrace. The deep
green of the foliage, contrasting with the laugh-
ing red of the blossoms, caused Helen Newman to
break out into admiration. She was in mourn-
ing, for she had lately met with that greatest
loss for a child, the loss of a mother. . But the
sweet works of creation, it may be observed,
do not interfere with the sacredness of grief.
What God has spread out in the sky and on the
earth soothes the ruffled spirit, which would
revolt at a gay speech or a boisterous jest.
The old man pitied the young lady. He had
served her mother many, many years; and,

what was more, he had been tried with afflic.
5



50 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



tion; he knew how to sympathize with those
who suffered. He wisely drew Helen's atten-
tion from one to another beauty of the garden,
till she was entertained and refreshed almost
against her will. He showed her how the lady-
slippers flaunted in their parti-coloured coats ;
and how the large altheas, from good pruning,
were all over flowers. ‘Tiger-lilies, late roses,
and the stately yucca,‘ were in season. Old
Donald pointed out the beauties of each. But,
not content with this, he went to a choice
corner of the green-house, and brought. her a
bouquet of rare and exotic flowers; and his
hard, withered old face softened into a fatherly
smile, as he placed it in Helen’s hand. But,
while she was examining its colours, and en-
joying its fragrance, and for a moment forget-
ting herself in these flowers of the field, she
was violently interrupted by a rush of the
young gardeners into their place of labour.
She could not but smile when she saw Bolton,
Burnham, and Merriman, with coats off, and
faces flushed with expectation, pressing around



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 51



Donald, beseeching him to furnish them with
some strawberry-plants, to set out in their beds.
It so happened that King Donald was not in
the best humour with them, by reason of a
trampling down of his newly-sown turnip-beds ;
he therefore held out some time against these
requests. At length, however, Carl entered
the garden, and joined in the petition; upon
which the old man instantly relented.

“‘What is the reason, Donald,” said Helen,
“that you always seem so partial to the Ger-
man ?”

“Because he ¢s a German, miss. I mean,
because he is a foreigner. I was once a new-
comer in this land, myself, and I ‘know the
heart of a stranger,’ as the Bible says.’”*

“I thank you for your kind feeling,” said
Carl; “but, indeed, I am suffering very few
of the troubles of a foreign boy, just now. It
was rather different when I first arrived; but
a text in the same good book often came into





* Ex. xxiii. 9.



52 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



my mind, when I was walking in the crowds
of New York: [‘The Lord] doth execute the
judgment of the fatherless and widow, and
LOVETH THE STRANGER, in giving him food and
raiment.’ ”’*

9

‘Well said, my boy!” said Donald, smiling
and patting Carl on the shoulder; “keep up
your courage, and the day will come when you
will feel as much at home in America as ever
you did on the Rhine. I do, as muéh as ever
I did at Kelso and Hawick. It is so with
trees and shrubs. See that ailanthus, or ce-
lestial tree, how kindly it grows here, though
it came from the Moluccas; and see this
double althea, or Hibiscus Syriacus, which has
forgotten its native Asia.”’

‘“‘Very well, Donald,’’ said Carl, “I hope it
will be so. But I see by the knots and marks
on this althea, that it has had a good deal of
eutting and pruning, and so have I.”

“Look again, my young friend,” said the —

* Deut. x. 18.



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 53



gardener, “and you will observe the effects of
this cutting and pruning. ‘The little tree has
become more vigorous, and has put out thicker
branches, and is covered with ten times as
many flowers as if it had never known afflic-
tion. This is one of the lessons of the gar-
den.”

“‘T see it, I see it!” exclaimed Helen; “and
I trust we shall all profit by the hand of our
merciful Lord.”’ |

“Just so, young lady,” replied the old man,
with a benignant smile. ‘For, what Says our
blessed Master? ‘Every branch that beareth
fruit, he purgeth it, that it may bring forth
more fruit.’ ”’





* John xv. 2.

6*



64 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.

CHAPTER V.

TEACHING AND TRAINING.

l'ne Oaks was a famous place for active and
manly exercises. Not only did the boys all
learn horsemanship, as a necessary part of
their education, but the teachers frequently
made little excursions, in the same way, to
greater distances than they could have reached
on foot. One day, the two ushers were seen
mounting a couple of bright sorrel horses be-
longing to Dr. Newman. The Doctor himself
was looking on with satisfaction, as they set
forth.

“There are few things,’

’

said Mr. Barry,
“more exhilarating than a ride on a fine horse.
It puts the blood in motion, and agitates the
frame; it cheers the spirits and exercises the
courage; it carries one rapidly through
changes of scene, and gives much pleasure



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 55



ut little expense. What a pity its value is so:
much unknown to sedentary men !””

“All true,” said Cole, “provided a man is
a good rider. For my part, you see, I sit my
horse like a pair of compasses. I could see
the stable-boys tittering, as I rode through the
gate.”

“They are severe critics in their own de-
partment, Mr. Cole. But why should’ you not
practise till you become expert ?”

“I am ready enough to practise, but every
one laughs at my awkwardness. I seem to
make no progress.”’

“You must have had bad teachers,” said
Barry, “for you seem to be a willing scholar.”

“Why, do willing scholars always make
proficiency ..

“Yes, unless incompetent from some na-
tural defect; and you appear to have all the
usual limbs. You must have had bad train-
ing.”
“I can’t altogether admit it,” replied Cole,
though with some embarrassment, for his horse



v6 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



showed strong dispositions to throw him over
his head. “I can’t altogether admit it; for
some of them are excellent riders, and they
are every moment pointing out my faults, and
every moment trying to laugh me out of
them.”’

‘“‘T have seen that method tried in schools,
Mr. Cole’ —

‘“‘T have tried it myself,” said Cole.

‘But I have never seen it succeed. It dis-
courages, it disheartens, it sours the mind, it
disgusts the beginner.”’

“What! you would not point out faults!”

**T would point out faults; but it is the very
smallest part of the teacher’s work.”’

“Suppose, Mr. Barry, you exemplify your
rule, in regard to my riding,’’ said the other
with a smile.

No sooner said than done. Barry dis-
mounted in an instant, and, applying himself
to the stirrup-leathers, lengthened them about
three inches.

‘That is the first step,” said Barry. No



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT, 57



man of your dimensions can ride, either safely
or gracefully, when trussed up after that fa-
shion. In the next place, good sir, allow your
heel to withdraw itself a little from the horse,
as every motion makes him feel the spur.
The same means will help you to what is
called the clip, by which you will hold on the
better.”

After a few roods had been passed, Cole
said, “‘I feel much easier already. I think I
am improving.”

Certainly,» you are; and the reason is
worth your notice: I have given you a little
training.”

“You seem to lay an emphasis on that
word, Mr. Barry.”

“I do, sir. Did you ever consider the
difference between teaching and training ?
And did you ever apply it in the school-
room ?”’

“Tam not sure that I take your meaning.
But I am willing to be informed; especially ag
Ihave long observed that you have a knack



58 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



of bringing on your pupils, which casts me al-
together in the shade.”’

“As to that, Mr. Cole, I am not a fit judge:
but I am persuaded of one thing, namely,
that in school-keeping, in forming habits, in
moulding manners, in every thing connected
with education, we must not only teach, but
train.”’

** Do not keep me in suspense, Mr. Barry ;
pray what is your meaning ?”

‘‘ Let me state a case,” replied Barry. “A
boy comes into school, who writes a very bad
hand. You laugh at him, you storm at him,
you punish him. You say a hundred times
that he writes ill, that he writes horribly, that
nobody can endure it, and this you consider
teaching him. Still he writes as illegibly or
as scrawlingly as ever. You think your duty
is done, but you have as yet had no effect on
him. He pouts, mopes, flounders, and de-
spairs: but no progress. Ferule, keeping-in,
black marks, extra tasks, all are tried, and all
fail.”



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 59



“Yes,” said Cole, “I know Just such a case.
But what remains to be done ?”

“T will tell you, Mr. Cole. It remains that
you tram hita. Show him, not merely wherein
he goes wrong, but how to go right. Sit down
beside the boy. Show him how to lay his book,
and how to hold his pen. Take his hand in
yours, and direct its motion. The negative
part is not enough: give him the positive part.
Pat him on the shoylder; forbear sneers and
threatenings, and show him precisely what he
is todo. Do it before him. Encourage him.
Put him in the way, and hold him up in it, as
you would teach a little child to walk.”

“Barry, there is really something in What
you say. Suppose you give me another ex-
ample !’’ |

“Very well. _ Take the case of Tom Mow-
bray. He had an ugly trick of speaking in a
very cross manner to his little brother. When
I began to deal with him, I did nothing but
point out his error. This he saw, but still he
was as cross as before. At length Dr. New-



60 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



man took him in hand, and, in a smiling way,
said to him, ‘Mowbray, I see you disapprove
several things in little James. Now let me ad-
vise you to speak to him thus.’ And then
he showed him how to address his brother,
and how to reprove him with a kind and per-
suasive tone. After a few days’ training, the
- whole manner of the youth was altered. Both
the boys improved rapidly, and every one ob-
serves the increase of their mutual affection.
The Doctor brought him out of the wrong way,
by putting him into the. right.”

“* But you would tell him of the wrong way
too, would you not?”

“Certainly,” said Barry; “but this is tell-
ing him only part, and, as I said just now, the
lesser part. The great thing in all training is
to lead along in the right way. Look at old
Donald when you return, and observe how he
trains his vines. Just so would I train a boy
to learn his Greek verbs. And allow me to
say, Mr. Cole, no amount of hard words will
drive Greek verbs into a boy’s head."



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 6]



“Ah, I see your drift! You overheard me
berating Bolton yesterday; but what should I
have done ?”

‘Let me tell you what I would have done.
I would have sat down by him half an hour, in
the verandah, with a Greek grammar, and
would have shown him how to get the lesson.
L would have got it with him. The method,
thus attained, would then be his own for life.
And so of every thing else.”’

“That reminds me of what we read in school,
that Julius Cesar did not commonly say to his
soldiers, Go, but Comz! For he went before.”

‘Yes, and when he meant to punish them,
he ceased to call them commilitones, or fellow-
soldiers. But we must turn our horses’ heads

homeward, and if you are fora gallop, I will try

to suit the action to the word, and show you
_how to go over the ground more speedily tha
you ever did before.” 5
“T thank you for your teaching and your
training,” answered Cole. But the words were

scarcely audible, for his hair was soon stream-
6



§2, CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



ing in the wind, and I know not but he would
have cried to his lively companion to halt, if he
had not been restrained by shame. As it was,
they reached the Oaks in safety, and were
soon exemplifying their principles amidst the
hum and buzz of a well-filled school-room.



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 538

CHAPTER V.

FRIENDS OF THE STRANGER,

NEAR the scene of the. principal events
which have been related, there was a country
school, taught by a young woman named
Brewer. It was in a small Stone house, of
a single story, situated, as country school-
houses love to be, on the edge of a wood, where
the grassy bank was overshadowed by oaks
and maples. Mary Brewer loved the spot,
because it gratified her admiration of nature,
while it afforded her the opportunity of im-
proving her mind, and at the same time of sup-
porting her aged parents. There is something
not only pleasing, but heroic, in the going
forth of so many daughters in America to re-
lieve their families from the burden of main-
‘aining them; and I could name not a few of
these persons who have Subsequently become



64 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



ornaments to the highest circles. Properly
viewed, indeed, every faithful teacher already
belongs to the highest circle; but I use the
phrase in its common worldly acceptation.

Go by the Maplebank school, about noon,
and very likely you will see Mary Brewer
seated under the grape-vine at the door. It is
September, and the purpling clusters are hang-
ing over her head. The pigeons, that swell
and coo around her, show that they know who
is their friend. But, hark! What a jocund
shout! It is the noise of the little boys and
girls, amusing themselves at their swing, all
fun and frolic, full of health and activity, learn-
ing as much from flowers and trees as they
could possibly do from books. If the swing
should break, they would not have very far to
fall, and the grass is almost as soft as a bed.
So, as long as they do not quarrel, Mary remains
contented at her embroidery, every now and
then stealing a side-look at a volume which
lies open beside her.

The rosy-cheeked girl at Mary’s feet is a



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 65
eo ee

little child whom she has taken to bring up,
and whose parents were carried off by the
cholera. You might guess, from the clear red
and white of her complexion, the pearly teeth,
and the bright blue eyes, that Hannah is of Irish
blood. But she knows nothing of Ireland ex-
cept what is in her Seography-lesson, and hag
no thought about any friend but Miss M ary.
The boy who is entering the little enclosure
around the school-house, and taking off his hat
to Mary, is no other than our friend Carl]
Adler. His face reveals that he has had a
rapid walk; but Carl is a youth who can bear
a good deal of fatigue and exposure. Perhaps
| ought to tell how he became acquainted with
Mary Brewer. He met her, on a visit of mercy
to a poor German family, in the neighbour.
hood of the Oaks. Carl had been drawn to
their assistance by hearing from their hovel,
as he passed one day, the well-known melody
of a German hymn. He first stopped, then
opened the door, and then joined heartily in

the chorus. The effect was instantanevus,
6*



66 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT,



The poor woman sprang up from the bedside
of her husband, and almost clasped Carl in
her arms. No other introduction was needed.

There is something very pleasing in the
power of Christian hymns over the German
mind. The Protestant emigrants, who come
by thousands to New York and New Orleans,
are seldom without their pocket hymn-books.
The tunes of their hymns are not so often
changed as ours; many of them are hundreds
of years old, and a hymn is seldom sung to
more than one tune. Hence, the associations
with certain melodies are very strong. Just
as is the case among ourselves with certain
song-tunes,—for example, the “Star-spangled
Banner,” which at once suggests the patriotic
words. Those who visit German Christians in
humblelife should learn their tunes.

Carl was naturally desirous to help his coun
tryman, who was a worthy joiner, but who had
been brought very low with ship-fever. Often,
when no one knew where Carl had strayed, he
was seated by the invalid’s bed, reading to



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT, 67



him from the Bible, or the Hymn-book, or
from Arndt’s True Christianity, or Luther’s
House-Postils. Blessed employment for a
pious youth! It educates the heart, and
teaches the affections early to flow in right
channels. During one of these visits, Carl
was surprised at the entrance of a young wo-
man, plainly dressed, and much older than
himself, but of comely appearance, and with a
face flushed with exercise, and perhaps with
modest confusion at seeing him. She was
bringing some little diet-drink for the poor
man, in a white pitcher, covered with a still
whiter napkin. After a few moments’ rest,
she was glad to avail herself of Carl as an’
interpreter. Thus, the acquaintance began,
Miss Brewer was so much older than Carl,
that even waggish boys could not banter him
about his intimacy; and the friendship became
4 source of mutual advantage. Mary Brewer
was one of those young women, in humble life,
whe abound in America ; and whom every pa-
‘riot ought to prize and honour: modest, but



68 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



firm and enterprising; first supporting them-
selves, and then, in many cases, supporting
their aged parents, or educating their younger
brothers for college and the ministry. My
heart warms towards them, while I write, and
wishes them every blessing. Many was well-
instructed, and amply furnished for teaching
her little rustic school; but her thirst for
knowledge was unsated: and it seemed to her
@ romantic wonder, when she found there were
80 many things which she could learn from a
little German emigrant. She caused him to
be invited to Farmer Black’s, where she had
her abode, and where he met another visiter,
in the person of a young physician, Dr. Smith.
Carl had sagacity enough to discover that this
bashful, but learned, young man was about to
take Mary Brewer as his wife. _The doctor
was not only pleased to meet with the bright,
fair-haired boy, but was ready to help him in
his studies, and willing, in his turn, to take
lessons in German. He paid for these, by
giving instruction to Carl, in many little



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT, 69
endian

branches, of which, as a foreigner, he was yet
ignorant. He corrected his English; he
drilled him in grammar and composition; and
he even entered him in chemistry and botany.
Carl taught the two young friends to read mu-
sical notes, and diligently brought them for-
ward in the study of the German Bible, and
Some beautiful poems of Schiller and Burger.
These were happy and profitable days for all -
the three. Carl began to learn the delights
of a truly Christian friendship. He was soon
introduced to the Sunday-school, and gathered
around him a class of German and Swiss chil-
dren from the neighbouring paper-mill. Mean-
while, he became more accurately instructed
in the. great Principles of scriptural religion,
in which he had been sincere, but with obscure
and puerile notions. Here was exemplified
his own maxim, that the great helper, in
teaching, is Love: and he learned more in a
single evening of autumn, at the Cherry-hill
farm-house, than during a whole day at the
Oaks.



70 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



What can make up to a loving child the
loss of parents? Certainly, nothing on earth.
Yet, when father and mother are gone, we
may find some relief in the presence of sin-
cere and affectionate friends. Carl found the
truth of this at Cherry-hill. When the nights
began to grow longer, he was permitted by
Dr. Newman sometimes to spend a long even-
ing at the farm-house. Then, when the doors
were closed, and the curtains pulled down,
the family began to gather in what they called
the “living room.” Mrs. Black was at her
wheel or her knitting. The rosy-cheeked girls
were busy with their needles, altering winter
clothes for the younger brothers. The bro-
thers themselves were playing with Ponto, or
trimming sticks for their kites, or perhaps
mending their bridles. The farmer generally
had on his steel-rimmed spectacles, and was
toiling through his newspaper, before reading
in Henry’s Commentary, which he always
looked at before going to bed. Dr. Smith
and Mary Brewer had little chats in the shady



CARL, THE Young EMIGRANT, 71
ners

part of the room: but when Carl’s well-known

might cheer up the little German, and make
him feel at home. There is a great difference
in people as to this. I have known Some who
seemed to take a pleasure in always speaking
of those things which tended to revive the
remembrance of Sorrows and mortifications,
Not so the benevolent Christian ; not so Smith
and Mary, They Tespected and loved. the
clever young Prussian; and they talked with
Pleasure about the things which he knew bet-
ter than they, : y

“Come in, Carl,” said Mary, on one 0cca-
sion, “come in, and taste Some of our grapes ;”
and she handed him a fine cluster. “Did you
ever see any so fine ?”

Carl thanked her, but smiled.

“Ah, Carl! do you pretend to think you
have ever seen finer ?”

** Yes, surely, Mary,” said Smith, ‘you



72 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



must remember, Carl comes from a country of
vines, from the famous river Rhine.”’

‘““Come, then, and tell us about it,” said
Mary, with much animation. ‘Tell us about
Bingen ; tell us about Ehrenbreitstein.”’

‘‘Ah! my dear young miss, if I should tell
‘you all the thoughts I have, about our vine-
yards, our groves, and about my shady home,
the tears would run down my cheeks. But
you have taught me that I can be happy here,
too; for here I have found friends.” ,

‘‘ Better, these, than grape-vines !” cried the
farmer, in his gruff, but hearty, voice; for he
had overheard the conversation.

“Oh, yes, sir,” said Carl; ‘better than alk}
the vines, rocks, and rivers in all Germany ;
but not—but not better than’’—

“Than what?” said the farmer. “Speak
it out, my lad.”

Carl did not finish his sentence; and a tear
was in his eye. So, to draw off attention, he
seized an old guitar of Mary’s, and struck up
a little innocent German ballad, beginning



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT, 73
Bie.

Mit dem Pfeil] und Bogen,
Durch Gebirg’ und Thal,
Kommt der Schiitz gezogen
Frith’ im Morgenstrahl, *

Then, seizing his leathern cap, he made a
formal little bow, and dashed away, leaping
_ and singing, across the low grounds which led
to the Oaks. As he bounded along he felt the
blessings of health and courage, and thanked -
God inwardly for the blessing of Christian
friends,

o- . . a ce nial titiaitaedet al ~~ — re ~——
f

* Schiller,



34 CAKL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.

CHAPTER VI.

WORK AND PLAY.

Dr. Newman, Mr. Barry, and Mr. Cole had
been talking all one afternoon about the right
way of mixing up amusement with instruction.
They all agreed that the thing might be carried
too far, and that it would never do to have
spelling lessons in gingerbread and philosophy
in games at cards; still the Doctor admitted that
there was an extreme on the other side; for,
said he, every valley lies between two hills,
and I would not have Jack a dull boy: I
would not keep the pupil always grave, always
tense, always feeling the bit, always in heavy
harness. But my maxim is, when you work,
work: when you play, play. Do not try to
variegate your common lessons too much, be-
cause part of the discipline of all education is
_ to keep the mind at one thing, to hold it in



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 7é



one place, and to learn to do and to bear
things which at first were disagreeable.

“Would you not,” said Mr. Barry, who was.
Particularly fond of lively ways, “would you
not enliven studies by anecdote and illustra-
tion and experiment ?”

‘“Yes, to be sure I would. For example, it
is very hard to fix in young people’s minds any
notion of the planetary system.”’

“‘T have observed it,” said Cole. “< They
learn the names and recite the figures, but
have no conceptions of the relative size of
the bodies, or the dimensions of the orbits.”

“This is the very thing I mean,” said the
Doctor; ‘and this is a fair case for illustra-
tion. Now, do me the favour to eall up the
group of fellows whom I see yonder at the
swing; they look as if they were at a pause
for amusement.”

Barry walked towards the swing, which was
@ great grape-vine, suspended from an oak; but
the boys came leaping towards him before hé ‘
came near. Presently the whole cluster was *

¢



16 CARL, THE YOUNG EM1).-AFT.

gathered at the green place under the bow-
window. ‘There were Bob Bolton and Merri-
‘man, glowing with exercise ; there were Burn-
ham and Mack, ready for mischief; and there
was our blue-eyed Carl, with fair curly hair,
looking sad at one moment and indescribably
merry at another.

“ Boys,” said Dr. Newman, “how many of
you can tell me the number of the planets ?”’

All answered pretty well except Burnham,
who seemed to have been asleep ever sinc?
there were seven planets only.

“Tam going,” said Dr. Newman, “to give
you some notion of the size and distances and
orbits of the planets, and you must try to ima-
gine the picture as 1 draw it. It is the illustra-
tion of a great astronomer.* Are you ready ?”’

“Ready, sir!” |

“ Now, suppose yourselves over @ great
green plain or prairie, miles across:”’

“Yes, yes, that is fine; go on, sir.”

——



caciduisesenenepensilptaetietieiantineca aA L TT

*§ir John Herschel : ‘ Outlines,” 1849.



CAKL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 17



‘Let it be very level and smooth, because
our planets must have free room for their
rounds. In the very centre of this plain
imagine a globe, two feet in diameter. Call
this globe the Sun.”

‘Ah! I see it already,” exclaimed Carl.

“Wait a little, my boy; you don’t see it all
yet. Around this globe, let a grain of mustard-
seed go round and round, in an orbit one hun-
dred and sixty-four feet in diameter. The
mustard-seed is Mrrcury.”’

The boys laughed heartily at little Mercury,
and guessed he could scarcely be seen at that
distance.

‘Next place a pea, going round a circle
two hundred and rie feet in diameter.
The pea is VENUS.’

‘‘T have seen it,”’ said Bob, “as the evening
star.”

“Yes,” said the Doctor ; “and if you would
only rise a little earlier, you might see it as the
morning star. But we have a great way to

travel. Here is pea number two, which is” —
7%



75 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



“Our poor little Earth !’’

‘‘ Even so; this pea is the EARTH, on a circle
of four hundred and thirty feet. Then comes
Mars, a rather large pin’s head, on a circle
of six hundred and fifty-four feet. But what
have we here? Four grains of sand, in orbits
of from a thousand to twelve hundred feet:
these are JUNO, CERES, VESTA, and PALLAS.”’

‘“T don’t know any of them,” said Bob
Burnham.

‘‘Perhaps, then, you will be better pleased
with this orange, of moderate size, moving in
a track nearly half a mile across: it is named
Jupiter. Next comes a small orange, on a
eircle of four-fifths of a mile: it is SATURN.”’

“T thought,” said Mack, ‘‘that Saturn was
larger than his son.”

‘A very common error,” replied the Doctor.
‘But here we have Uranus, or Herschel, a
full-sized cherry, or small plum, upon the cir-
cumference of a circle more than a mile and a
half. Lastly, NepruNz, a good-sized plum, on
a circle two miles and a balf in diameter.”



,

CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 79

$



“‘T thought, sir,” said Burnham, “ that Nep-
tune was the god of the sea;” and the good-
natured boy scratched his head in much per
plexity.

This was the signal for an outbreak of
pent-up fun. All broke out together on Burn-
ham; and even Carl could not help saying,
“And now you find him only a good-sized
plum—eh ?”’

““No, no,” replied Burnham, with an air of
injured pride. “ What I mean is this, young
gentlemen: Neptune, to my thinking, is a
heathen god, the son of—of—of”—

‘Never mind his father and mother,” said
Bob Bolton. “I see ydur perplexity: you
thought he was a water-god, and you wonder
at his being in the sky.”

This little badinage led Dr. Newman and
Barry to explain to the boys the whole subject
of the constellations and their names. And
when the beautiful clear night came on, all the
boys were assembled at that part of the por-
tico where a glass-door extended to the floor.



80 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT



A large celestial globe was placed within the
window, so as to be under shelter; w4 hile the
little company looked abroad upon the vault
of heaven. Teachers should all make them-
selves acquainted with this easy and delightful
branch of science. Nothing is more interest-
ing to youth; nothing is more elevating. It
connects itself with the higher parts of astro-
nomy, with history, mythology, and poetry; and,
above all, with religion and the word of God.

After they had satisfied themselves with
| star-gizing, Mr. Cole said, with animation,
“Well, I must acknowledge, here is high en-
tertainment mingled with high instruction. I
hope to be a wisernd happier teacher, in con-
sequence of this lesson.”

“Do you love teaching ?” said Carl to Mr.
Cole.

The assistant paused, remembering the com-
position ; but seeing that Carl was innocent in
his question, he replied, “Not so much as
some—Mr. Barry, for instance—but more thar
Tdid. But why do you ask?”



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. a1
7
“Because I have been parang myself of



trying to teach.”

“You! Carl. I thought you were going to
college.”’

“Ah!” replied Carl, “I should like to do
80, indeed, but” —

“Ah, my good fellow, I see how it is. You
want to make an honourable support. Res
angusta domi,* and so forth. I know how to
feel for you.”’

“Then,” said Carl, brightly, “you have
had the same experience ?”’

“Yes, indeed, like many other New England
boys, of whom hundreds, if not thousands,
have begun life in this way. And I am not
ashamed to say my father was a poor man,
who brought up a family of five sons and a
daughter, on a farm of thirty-five acres. Three
of us have been to college, and have all made
our way by teaching. Perhaps we may com-
fort the old age of our parents, and keep our

ee ee a



* Straitened circumstances.



$2 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



sister from hard work. I only wish I had the
same liking for the work which I observe ir,
Mr. Barry.”

» “T know I shall like it,” said Carl, warmly.
“T always loved to tend and rear plants and
flowers, and these are living, thinking, immor-
tal plants and flowers !”

‘You grow poetical, Carl.”

‘So the boys are always saying to me,” an-
swered Carl. “But how can I help it? I
think our German blood runs faster than that
of the English.”

“At any rate,” said Mr. Cole, “ you let
your feelings overflow more readily in words.

~When you are much moved, your only rule
seems to be, out with it!”

“Very well,” said Carl, with a smile, “that
will be all the better in a schoolmaster ; for
how can we teach much, unless we express
something? And how can we teach pleasantly
unless we are in earnest? I always find I
learn most with an animated teacher.”

Mr. Cole looked grave. “I know,” said



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 83

he, “you do not mean to reprove me; but I am
touched by the truth you have spoken. Dull
and drowsy teaching is heavy work to both
parties.” f

“Certainly, Mr. Cole, I did not mean you
in what. I said. And let me tell you one
thing ;, all the boys have observed how much
more we learn from you than we did a month
ago.”

Mr. Cole retired to his chamber with plea-
santer thoughts than he had indulged for
long time.





S4 CARL, THE YOUNG £MIGRANT. -

CHAPYER VII.

THE EMIGRANT YOUTH ADVANCING TO MANHOOD.

Ir is not necessary to dwell on every link
in the chain of Carl’s history, as if we were
writing a chronicle. Already has the reader
been informed that the young German had
formed the plan of setting up a school for him-
self. Let us hasten to the accomplishment of
the purpose, leaping over the years which
intervened between the point where this narra-
tive began, and the day of Carl’s instalment
at the little school of Sunnyside. Suppose I
try to sketch the scene: it is one worthy of a
better pencil than mine. |

Among the numerous little coves which in-
dent the island-beach near to the city of New
York, there is one of singular beauty, not far
from the turbulent passage from the Hast
River into the Sound. The boiling torrent



* CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 85



dashes fearfully against the rocks, which are
often covered with foam, and smooth from the
dash of the waves for ages past. But, above
this rocky girdle, the land slopes with a gentle
curve, and is covered with the richest verdure.
Just beyond this natural lawn, the remains of
the forest overshadow the green, and give
retirement to many a strolling fisherman and
fowler; as in former days the mightier groves
protected the Indian, before these waters were
ever entered by Hendrick Hudson and hia
crews.

From some points, the steeples of the great
city, not many miles distant, may be clearly
seen, and, at most times, a heavy cloud from
the smoke of chimneys and furnaces 6verhangs
the spot. The wide river, or arm of the sea,
is frequented by craft of every description,
from the enormous steamboat, winding through

‘those difficult rocks and whirlpools towards ~

the Sound and the Atlantic, to the petty skiff,
in which city-boys too often venture their

lives. This makes the view from Sunnyside a
8



88 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



still, however, were in store for the lowly boy.
Smith and his kind-hearted Mary insisted that
Carl should be a boarder in their cottage ;
and their secret intention was that he should
pay nothing for it, any more than if he were
their own brother. ‘True, his chamber was
very near the roof, and had but one window;
but, then, it was almost smothered in honey-
suckles, and a bluebird held his little mimic
housekeeping exactly opposite, in a box fixed
to the maple-tree.

Carl did not complain that his pupils were
too few. Indeed, he wondered how he should
ever get along with so many. Out of nine
boys, he had to make five classes, if that can
be called a class which contains but one, as
did two of his: for the big boy and the man
could not be put with any companion, and his
largest group contained just three. He ma-
naged, however, to make some little array at
scripture-reading, in which the whole seminary
stood up together, not excepting Ludwig
Ewald, who read very comically indeed.



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 89



You must not think, because the institution
was small, that the teacher did not feel some
little importance. It would be surprising to
relate how many little paper books he pre-
pared; how he set down their names in order;
how he ruled lines in black and red ink; and
how he engrossed the rules in printing letters,
with a flourishing head in German text. These
innocent preparations showed the zeal with
which he set out. Other people have done
the like; and those have not been the worst
teachers who have most anxiously settled their
preliminaries. I must not conceal that, on
the first evening, about twilight, our young
schoolmaster walked very gravely into the |
meadows, and returned with two very smooth
birchen rods, the use of which he never com-
municated. But, as he trimmed off the ends
of these wands and put them into his desk, it
is said that he smiled. No president of a col-
lege ever felt more weighty responsibilities.

Carl was glad that his pupils were all boys.
The management of a girls would have



90 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



given him some embarrassment. His German
accent had not wholly forsaken him: but he
was at an age when peculiarities of this sort
wear away rapidly; and it is not every one
who would have detected his foreign origin.
Now and then, a stray farmer or labouring-man
would look in at the door, with or without rea-
son; and this was slightly embarrassing to the
young preceptor: but his mind was more and
more taken up with the responsible business of
teaching. Pens were to be made and mended.
Sums, as the children call all arithmetical ques-
tions, were to be set or examined; paper-
chickens, fly-traps and apples were to be seized
upon; untidy faces and hands were to be sent
out to the well. Then was the common round
of reading, spelling, geography and grammar;
the common adjudication of cases respecting
crooked pins and scrouging; and the common
rebukes of idle or quarrelsome children. Not
a little difficult was it to still the convulsions
of the little laughers, when poor Ludwig under-
took to read aloud his English lesson.



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT 91



It was a relief to Carl to go out under the
fine trees, or among the rocks of the shore, at
the interval of noon. A favourite spot with
the youngsters was a spring half a mile inland,
at the bottom of a small but deep basin, in the
pasture-ground. Here they secreted their jugs
of milk, and here they opened their little
dinner-baskets, and ate with a zest unknown at
city feasts; often exchanging the varieties of
the different families, and joying in the supe-
rior cakes of other mothers and aunts. These
simple cares and simple pleasures make up
much of an humble teacher’s life. Perhaps,
in later days, he inclines to suspect that more
ambitious vexations and delights involve the
same principles, teach the same lessons, and
reveal the same frailties. The heart of the
child is very much like the heart of the man.



92 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.

CHAPTER VIII.

FIRST LESSONS IN SCHOOL-KEEPING

In a safe and secluded cove, Carl Adler
sometimes gave lessons in a branch of educa-
tion not common in all schools: I mean swim-
MING. He was both a bold and an expert
swimmer, and under his directions every one
of his young pupils learned this healthful and
necessary exercise. He used to tell them of
the daring adventures of his countrymen on
the Rhine. He gave them, in English, Schil-
ler’s celebrated story of the Diver and the
Golden Cup. He informed them that the
Romans, in order to describe a person of ex-
treme ignorance, said that he could neither
read norswim. He read to them what Horace
says about swimming over the Tiber. He
helped them to repeat Dr. Franklin’s experi-
ment about floating and the kite. He showed



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 93



them, on the map, the strait of Hellespont, and
related in part the tale of Hero and Leander,
adding Lord Byron’s great feat at the same
spot, asa comment. He read to them, out of
missionary books, an account of the Sandwich
Isles, and of the surf-boards, and of the almost
incredibly early age at which the infants can
‘take care of themselves in the water. When
the tide made it safe, and the weather was fa-
vourable, this was a chief recreation of Carl
and his boys.

Among the entertainments of odd hours, he
formed the purpose of teaching all the school
to sing, as he had himself been taught in Ger-
many. ‘The thing is much more easily accom-
plished than is commonly thought. Most of
the difficulty complained of, resides in what is
not always detected—the utter inability of the
teacher to sing.

One fine summer evening, the whole company
was gathered under one of the shadiest trees, on
a knoll directly over the river. The sun had set,
and a refreshing breeze was rippling the water,



04 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



without, however, interrupting the calm that
everywhere prevailed. It was a favourable
moment for impressions from sacred song, and
the school let out all their voices with right
zood will, as people are apt to do who sing in
the open air. Carl and Ludwig added a very
good accompaniment, in certain parts, on the
flute and violoncello. Such a volume of sweet
sounds did not fail to reach those who were
passing in boats, and, among the rest, a family
party, who had come out from the city for an
airing. Turning the head of the boat towards
Sunnyside cove, they made directly for the
land. Two boys, aged about sixteen and four-
teen, leaped ashore and made fast the little
vessel. A plank was run out, and two ladies,
one old and one young, stepped ashore. Seve-
ral children followed ; a servant came out last,
with two large hampers. The old lady ad-
dressed herself very politely to Ludwig, be-
lieving him to be the principal personage, and
then to Carl, when she had learned her mistake.
She asked leave to join their party, and declared



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 95



her fondness for good music to be such that
she could scarcely refrain from this act of
seeming forwardness.

Carl made all the courteous speeches that
he could muster up for the occasion. He said
his pupils were very young, and that they
were beginners. He proceeded, however, with
modest confidence, to lead them in an evening
hymn, and wound up with a German song about
the Rhine, in which Ludwig joined, both with
voice and instrument. Mrs. Grayson (such
was the lady’s name) and her children were
highly pleased, and next day sent from her
green-house and garden a basket of flowers and
a profusion of grapes, which Carl said put him
in mind of Germany.

But all the visits which the young preceptor
received were not equally agreeable. One
morning, as Carl, with one or two of the boys,
sat just in the door, engaged upon some lesson,
a buggy or light chaise suddenly stopped in
the road, and a young man, highly dressed, and
foppish in his manners, jumped out. “It aint



96 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



possible! Sure, this is not the Dutchman *
Why, Adler, is it really you?”

“Tt is I, Burnham,” answered Carl; “and I
am here teaching a little school.’’

“School! school !’’ shouted Burnham, in a
high state of amusement; and then, turning to
his companion—“ Here, Murdock, get out
quick, and see the Dutchman and his school.
Who'd a-thought it! Come now, and let one
of the brats hold the horse, while Murdock and
I examine.”

The two young dandies, who had been on @
drive out of town and had taken wine at the
ferry-house, now proceeded, in a way which
Carl found to be highly insulting, to make him
the object of their stupid jests. Carl was re-
solved, at any cost, to avoid sacrificing his
proper authority +n his own school. He order-
ed the little hoy who stood at the horse’s head
to come instantly into the house. The horse
would have escaped if Murdock had not taken
his place; and the animal was so restiff that the
young fellow found himself sufficiently occupied



vARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 97



in keeping him quiet. Burnham meanwhile
pretended to examine the boys, addressing
their teacher by the name of Dutchman, and
other contemptuous terms. At length, casting
his eye on Ludwig, he cried out, ‘‘ Well, grand-
daddy, and are you teacher or scholar?”
Ludwig replied, in broken English, but with
great warmth, ‘“‘I am the man what will put

you there out into the street ;” and seizing the
overgrown but lubberly fellow by the nape of
the neck, he gently, but effectually, placed
him by his conveyance, into which he was very
willing to get, with a sneaking look, and a
dreadful rent in his fashionable coat. His
companion gave him small consolation, saying,
“Served you right, you chicken-hearted booby!
I saw from the start that you would make a
fool of yourself.” And he gave whip to his
horse, as angry drivers are prone to do, and
was soon out of sight.

During this unusual scene, the little scholars
appeared much frightened, and huddled to-
gether, like a flock of sheep before a strange

9



93 CaRL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



dog. But when they observed that their young
teacher was quite collected, and when they
saw the big insolent intruder give way in such
a cowardly manner before the resolute German,
they plucked up courage, and were almost ready
to give three cheers.

Carl soon won the love as well as the respect
of his pupils. This will always be the case
where the teacher really loves his little flock.
His labour will then be a pleasure, and his
tasks will prove almost an entertainment. In-
stead of repining at his seclusion, and complain-
ing about the wearisome business of spending
so many hours with idle or disobedient children,
he will experience a satisfaction not unlike that
of a parent. The best maxim for a teacher is,
Love your scholars. It contributes equally to
comfort and success. Love will suggest a hun-
dred expedients which never could be learned
from the ablest treatises, or under the greatest,
professors. It will take the place of many a
punishment. It will fix attention and shorten
toil. It will win the froward and melt the



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 99



stubborn. In a word, it will, in almost every
instance, insure a good school.

Fondness for the company of the children
led Carl to pass many of his hours with them
when they were not at their tasks. He could
not, indeed, like some teachers, give them any
expensive entertainments. Poor fellow! it was
as much as he could do to procure food and
raiment ; and but for the generous friendship
of the Smiths, he would have felt the pinching
of want. But his inventive mind led him toa
number of cheap means for communicating
pleasure. Sometimes, on a Saturday after-
noon, they would stroll together over the
woods and meadows, and come home laden
with flowers and minerals, which Dr. Smith
taught Carl to arrange. Lessons in natural
history were turned to account, at odd hours;
and there is no pursuit which is more inviting |
to youth; none which exercises their faculftes
‘in a more safe way; and none which admits —
of more ready connection with divine truth.
Carl often amused the listening group with

°



100 CARL, THE YOUNG EM-GRANT.



pleasant stories out of the Greek and Latin
books which he was studying; which he found
to havea good effect in fixing in his own memory
what he had been reading. The very youngest
of them soon became acquainted with Cyrus
and the Persians, and could tell the anecdote of
the two coats, as related by Xenophon. They
could point out Troy and Rome upon the map,
and talked familiarly of Anchises, Aineas, Dido,
and the little Ascanius. They loved to hear
the sounding lines of Greek, which describe the
noise of the ocean, and the twanging of
Apollo’s silver bow, even though. they could
not tell the meaning of a word. In like man-
ner they learned a pretty long German ballad,
which they sang in parts. Carl further amused
himself by drilling them in the questions and
answers with which French conversation com-
monly begins. Harmless games and riddles
and puzzles in arithmetic added to their holi-
day sports. But after all, it was not so much
the particular thing which he did, as the cheer-
ful, loving manner in which he did it, that



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 101



gained them over. In this way they were
drawn towards him, as a friend who had their
real welfare at heart, so that there was scarcely
any thing which they would not have done to
please him. And this was the more remark-
able, because he did not attempt to turn their
regular study into play. He remembered Dr.
Newman’s maxim, When you work, work R
and when you play, play. So that wnen
they were at their books, it was a serious
business, and they soon found that no allow-
ance was granted to idleness, inattention, or
impatience.

In such a school as this, children learn fast.
Every day leaves its mark. Parents found it
out, and at the end of the first quarter, five new
scholars were offered, two of whom were elder
brothers of a child already there. One little
fellow had been two quarters at a district school,
and yet had not learned to read. The first
pages of his spelling-book had been so thumbed
and so worn by his chin and elbows, that .the

letters were almost illegible. By a little spe-
i



102 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



cial attention, Carl carried him through the
book in a few months. His father, who was a
fisherman, and who had no learning himself,
was so much gratified that he sent the teacher
a bushel of oysters as a token of his regard.
Though Carl smiled at the donation, he re-
ceived it in good part, and was glad of the
means thus afforded for increasing the good
cheer at the Doctor’s cottage. But he was
rather more pleased when James Donald, the
smallest boy of all, son of a Scotch gardener,
came to him one Monday morning, with two
pots of mignionette and a number of hyacinth
bulbs. |

“J have one more than a baker’s dozen,”
said Carl, to his friend, Mrs. Smith, one win-
ter evening, as they sat over a bright hick-
ory fire.

“JT wish it was a hundred, for your sake,”
said Mary.

“Oh! not a hundred, my love,” exclaimed
the Doctor. ‘That would be almost a col-



Full Text
Sineeee



CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.

CARL,
THE YOUNG EMIGRANT:
A MEMOIR OF

SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLMASTERS.

WRITTEN FOR THE AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION,

BY

REV. J. W. ALEXANDER.

AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION:

1122 CHESTNUT STREET, PHILADELPHIA.
375 BROADWAY, NEW YORK.
ened LS DL

Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1851, by the
AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION,

in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the Eastern District of
Pennsyivania.



$C

&8@~ No books are published by the AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION
without the sanction of the Committee of Publication, consisting of
fourteen members, from the following denominations of Christians, viz.
Baptist, Methodist, Congregationalist, Episcopal, Presbyterian, and Re-
formed Dutch. Not more than three of the members can be of tha
same denomination, and no book can be published to which any mem
ber of the Committee shall object.
PREFACKH.



THE pages which follow contain scenes
and dialogues, rather than a story or plot.
If the lessons which are offered should
gain the attention of young persons, and
especially of young teachers, I shall not
regret the little veil of fiction which is
thrown overthem. Neither argument nor
observation has lessened my respect for
the moral narrative, the apologue, or the
parable, and there is good reason to be-
lieve that the present century will not
destroy a predilection common to all pre-
ceding centuries, for this vehicle of in-

struction.
1« 6
6 PREFACE.

If. the tale shall win one additional
favour or kindness for the European emi-
grant to our shores, I shall thankfully
rejoice. Hqually glad shall I be, if it
contribute to elevate the name of the
teacher in any one’s estimate, or to cheer
on any beginner in the path of instruction.
The book, such as it is, is for the lovers of
children : those who are not of this frater-
nity had better lay itdown. The religious
truths inculcated are increasingly dear to
me, and my humble prayer is that they
may be impressed on the heart of every

reader.
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



CHAPTER I.

THE OAKS.

Tux boys were all gathered under a spread-
ing chestnut-tree, not far from which a stone-
quarry had been opened and then left to grow
up with gorse, brambles and tufts of grass and
weeds. It is such a cavern as children love,
affording a hundred amusements to those who
are inquisitive. Barry was, for the time, one of
the boys. He sat in the shade of the mighty
tree, with book in hand, but unopened. His
eyes were looking over at the distant hills, and
the intermediate landscape checkered with field
and orchard, and seamed with hedges and
brooks. But the noise and antics of â„¢ young
8 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



companions kept him from musing long on any
one thing. Grave as he might be, it was im-
possible for him not to turn his head and smile,
when he saw the cheery faces and high gambols
of these healthy, happy fellows. Now they are
trying to bury the Newfoundland dog in new
hay, from which he rises like an animated hay-
cock. Now they are repeating the experiment
with Bob Bolton, the biggest and best-humoured
of the set. Now they turn somersets down the
green side of the quarry; and now they are off,
like a herd of antelopes, in a race to the foot
of the green hill, where a silver rivulet marks
the lowest spot in the extensive field.
Timorous parents are sometimes greatly
afraid of bones being broken or health being
endangered in such sports. But they are ig-
norant of the safeguards of Providence, and
occasionally interfere to the injury of. their
children. It is wonderful how rare such evils
are, among tens of thousands of instances. I
think I have observed that in many families
the eldest sons are the most feeble and fearful:
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 9



when the little flock increases, the sports be-
some more gay, and the adventure more bold.
And home-sports, such as these, when unaccom-
panied by ill tempers and ill words, are good
and laudable, even though their noise should
sometimes jar on the ear of the nervous. Un-
less we would rear a generation of effeminate
creatures, we must put up with some noise and
some soiling and tearing of raiment.

Barry was almost disposed to join in the
sport ; though he half-doubted whether his dig-
nity as an usher might not suffer by the con-
descension. Thescruple was unnecessary: but
Barry had not reached the point in his expe-
rience where this is found out.

When the sun began to draw towards his

rigs
a
oA eee

“« oud
eo:

setting, he rang his little bell, and was instantly

surrounded by the whole company, at least
twenty in number. There they sat or stood
around him, red and panting and covered with
healthful moisture. What sight on earth is
lovelier or more hopeful? Who is happier
than a loving teacher? Barry felt this, and
te

10 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



gazed on them with a new and swelling emotion.
What hope, what joy, what confidence in these
countenances! Even two or three lads, who
had been sullen and refractory in the school-
room, were here contented and docile, and
clung to him, with a readiness to do whatever
he should order.

“Look yonder, boys,”’ said Barry, rising as
he spoke, and stretching his hand toward the
west. All the boys turned in the same direc-
tion, and their faces were illuminated with the
blush of the setting sun, which at that instant
was just sinking among a clump of distant trees.
“Oh, how grand! Oh, how beautiful!’ burst
from several. Indeed, the sight was glorious.

“What do you think, boys?” said Barry.

_ “Can you see any thing like that in a show ¢

Can any painting, or any panorama equal that 2”

Various exclamations were uttered by the
more animated boys, for the spectacle was un-
commonly fine, even in a land where we have
to bless God for so many brilliant sunsets.
Little Carl was silent. His hands were crossed
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 1!



upon his breast, and his blue eye drank in the
lights of the west, as if none had been present.

“‘Car',” said Barry, turning to the little fo-
reigner, “that is what you call, in Germany, the
Abendroth, and it is a beautiful word.”—*“ Yes,
sir,” said Carl, and the tears filled his eyes:
he wiped them away with his little checked
handkerchief. The boys were affected: they
knew he was thinking of “Bingen on the
Rhine.”

Burnham, who led the school, turned to
Mack and said, in a low voice, “ Mack, there’s
something in the Dutchman, after all; let’s not
quiz him so hard !”

A distant bugle-note bréke up their senti-
mental gazing ; it was the signal for the even-
ing worship. Barry led the way to the school,
and the boys fell into an irregular procession.
It was plain they had received benefit by even
this momentary contemplation of a great ob-
ject in nature. Why should it not be a part of
education to draw forth the admiration of youth
12 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT



towards such wonders, and to graft upon them
the needful lessons ?

Dr. Newman was not the man to neglect
such meaus of usefulness. He had been gazing
on the same western sky, as he sat in the por-
tico, holding the hand of his motherless daugh-
ter. Both were in mourning, but both seemed
revived by a transient gleam from the sinking
luminary. As Dr. Newman led the way into
the little chapel, the lingering rays of the sun-
set were just gilding its eastern wall. He
rose in the pulpit, and read the beautiful 104th
Psalm. At the 19th verse, the youthful wor-
shippers all felt, at least for the moment, the
meaning of those words, The sun knoweth his
going down. They were therefore very atten-
tive, when the Doctor began his little address :

‘‘My dear children,” said he, “1 dare say
you have been looking at the beautiful sunset.
It is good to do so. Those lovely curtains of
coloured clouds are hung there to attract our
eye. They are pictures in the book of nature,
from God’s own hand.

'
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 13



“See how God directs us to study these works
of creation. It is plainly so in the chapter we
have just read. So also in other places. In
the book of Job (xxxviii., xxxix., xl., xli.) God
’ speaks out of the whirlwind; but all his discourse
is concerning the wonders of creation.

‘“‘We must not confine ourselves to the book
of nature. If we had no other guide, its cha-
racters would be unintelligible. They would
speak a strange language. The heathen have
the book of nature; but they read it amiss.
Blessed be God for this other Book, the Book
of revelation!” (and here Dr. Newman laid his
hand on the great folio Bible which lay before
him.) “Here we learn, what brilliant sunsets
can never teach us, that God so loved the world
as to give his only begotten Son, that whoso-
ever believeth in him should not perish, but
have everlasting life. But, after we have learned
this blessed gospel-truth from the Scriptures,
we can come back to the book of nature, with
its beautiful sunsets, and behold, in every hue
and every cloud, an emblem of God’s love and

: 2 |
14 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.

mercy. Therefore, my children, believe in
God, and then, when you turn your eyes to-
wards the crimson and gold of the gorgeous
west, you may say to yourselves, ‘The God
who displays those lovely signs, is my Father, *
through Jesus Christ.’ ”’

Then they joined in singing the following
version of the 19th Psalm :

I love the volume of thy word;

What light and joy those leaves afford
T'o souls benighted and distressed !

Thy precepts guide my doubtful way,

Thy fear forbids my feet to stray,
Tuy promise leads my heart to rest.

Thy threatenings wake my slumbering eyes,
And warn me where my danger lies;

But ’tis thy blessed gospel, Lord,
That makes my guilty conscience clean,
Converts my soul, subdues my sin,

And gives a free, but large reward.

Who knows the error of his thoughts?
My God, forgive my secret faults,

And from presumptuous sins restrain.
Accept my poor attempts of praise,
That I have read thy book of grace

And book of nature not in vain.
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRAN'T. 15



It is a happy thing for our children, when
they go to a school where religious service is
not made a drudgery, but is connected with
pleasing associations. Such was the case at
the Oaks. There was no boy who remained
there long who did not love the sound of the
bugle, which called him to this short but inter-
esting exercise. Dr. Newman almost always
made an address, but it was seldom longer than
that which has been given above. It was cus-
tomary at the Oaks, after tea, to spend some
time in walking, or, if the time of year were
forbidding, in athletic games, in a large co-
vered play-room, called the hippodrome. This
was not indeed the hour for their regular gym-
nastic exercise ; but it was spent in this place,
because of the large space allowed for walking
and running, and for forming little groups for
conversation. However inclement the weather
might be, here the boys found themselves warm
and sheltered; and the recreation was. good
before returning to the short tasks of the even-
ing. But the plan of the school did not admit
16 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



of much work by candle-light, for early rising
was the order of the day. Into this hippo-
drome the larger boys went at all times during
play-hours; and here they were assembled in
considerable force on the evening in question.
A large lamp of stained glass hung from the
centre of the roof, and cast a pleasant gleam
over the space below. A knot of gay young
fellows, in loose’ summer-dress, was seen in
.the inner circle, some leaning on benches, and,
some arm-in-arm, against the column in the
midst. It was evident that some plan was on
foot; for boys are planning creatures, and it is
well when their schemes involve no mischief.
I am glad to say, such was now the case.
They were talking in a low tone about the pale
German boy, Carl Adler. Carl had come to
school with scarcely any knowledge of English,
and a few months had not sufficed to remove
his oddities of pronunciation. He could not
for his life say, ‘‘ Thirty thousand thorns thrust
_ through the thick of their thumbs.’’ The at-
tempt to utter this formidable formula, which
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 17



he never refused, used to produce peals of
laughter, such as are heard only from a group of
boys. Few at this age can abstain from run-
ning rigs on a comrade. But Carl, though he
used to redden, and hang his head, never lost
his temper; and this won him some favour.
Though he could not talk English well, he was
the best Frenchman in the school; indeed, he
spoke the language fluently. Then he was far
before the rest of his age in Latin. He could
swim, wrestle, and fence ; and was always ready
to do a favour. That evening, the boys had
observed him weeping under the chestnut-tree.

Boys are as sagacious about such things as
men: they knew he was thinking of home, and
the word home is sweet at a boarding-school.
But little Carl’s home was far over the sea, on
the Rhine ; and he was an orphan; and, what
was more, the boys had learned, within «a few
days, that he was poor, and that his uncle, Mr.
Schneckenburg, had written to Dr. Newman
that he must be taken away and put to a trade. ,
Now they began to regret their ridicule of the

2*
18 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



stranger, and were busy contriving some way
to help him : for they could not bear the thought
of losing so amiable and clever a companion.
““T'll tell you what it is,’”’ said Murdock, whe
was the son of Captain Murdock, of the army,
“I'll give all my pocket-money for the year,
rather than let the Dutchman suffer.”’
“Dutchman!” cried Merriman, who slept in
the same chamber, “I tell you, he is no Dutch-
man; he is a German boy, from Bingen on
the Rhine, and his father was a judge in that
town.”
“‘Never mind, Merriman,’ said Murdock,
*‘ Dutchman or German is all one; he is a fine
little man, if he does call think, sink, and bath,
vass. Put my name down for as much as you
choose. Dr. Newman has my money for the
quarter, and he says it’s too much by half.”
“We are all ready,” said Mack, who was a
square-built, rosy-cheeked, brave-looking boy :
“‘T don’t believe there is a fellow on our side
who will refuse to give something—all he can~=
but the thing is, how shall we do it?”
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 19



“True enough,” said Burnham; “it will
never dq to hurt the little man’s feelings. He
is quiet, and he is poor, but then he is very
proud ;—no, not proud, exactly; I don’t mean
quite that. But he is above begging, and
above being helped; and he never would forgive
us if he knew what we are saying.”

“There is no danger of that,”’ said Merri-
man; ‘‘for I left him writing a letter to his
sister, in those funny, little, slanting, peaked
German letters, that we used to quiz him about.
I’m sorry I laughed at him so much, for once
I saw him dropping tears over the sheet so
fast that it must have blotted the paper. He.
will not be down for an hour.”

“T tell you,” said Murdock, “we are in
danger of all going wrong, unless we take ad-
vice ; and there is no better way than to talk
it over with Mr. Barry. He is always ready
to help everybody, and he thinks the world
and all of Adler.”

“Good! good!” cried several; “ Barry 1s
the man.”
20 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



“Yes,” said Mack ; “and what is more, Mr,
Barry has been in Germany, and understands
a good deal of the language. Iam glad you
thought of it.”

So it was agreed to lay the matter before
Mr. Barry; the boys meanwhile determining
to be ready with their contributions. The bell
rang, and they went to the school-room, with
faces full of earnestness and animation.


CABL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 21

CHAPTER II.

TRIALS OF THE EMIGRANT SCHOOL-BOY.

Tue cooler days of summer, in our American
climate, are admirably suited for open-air exer-
cise; and boys at school know how to enjoy
them. Did you ever know a healthy youth
who did not like to spend such days out of
doors? Especially at large schools, where they
have not their parents to go to, young persons
seek recreation in the fields and woods. Here
they learn a thousand things which are useful
to them in after-life. Ft is not the least import-
ant part of their education. For this reason,
those schools are best where the pupils have a
wide range of meadow and grove, pleasant brooks
and safe bathing-places. This was remarkably |
true of the Oaks, which was so called on ac-
count of a number of great and ancient trees,
relics of the forest, which were scattered in
clumps upon the hill-side in front of the house.
22 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



It had been the seat of an old English family
before the Revolution, and bore many g@harac-
teristic marks of the aristocratic mansion. The
spacious but irregular house was of hewn stone,
as were the stables and offices. A gentle rill
stole along the bottom of the declivity, passing,
in its course, through an old-fashioned spring-
house, which was of snowy whiteness, and over-
shadowed by a gigantic syeamore. A green lane
behind the principal dwelling ran off among
cherry-trees, till it was lost man extensive wood,
and, through this shaded walk, conducted to a
stream called by an Indian name, Wicomico.
Upon the bank of this stream several boys
were seated during the noon of a half-holiday.
The voice of Carl Adler might have been
heard in pensive but continued discourse: he
was giving an account of his native town on
the Rhine. I will not attempt to imitate his
broken English, for it is not my purpose to ex-
cite a smile at his expense: and what he said
was worthy of no ridicule. He was telling of
the rapids in the Rhine, near Bingen, and of
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 23



the antiquity of this little town, which is said
to have been known to the Romans. |

“ But now,” said he, “I feel that I am quite
an American. My uncle lives in America,



and” The boys knew what he meant:
his father and mother were dead.

“Yes,” said Merriman, “you are as much
an American as any of us; and, before the year
is out, you will lose all the little German burr
that is on your tongue.”

“He is losing it already,” said Burnham,
‘Who could have spoken the address of An-
tony better than Adler did last night ?”

Carl smiled, and said, “I am glad you have
come to think better of me. Everybody is
kinder to me than before. For you must know,
I was beginning to think I never should open
my lips without uttering something laughable.”

“Come, come,” said Merriman, laying an
arm across his shoulder, “no more of that.
Let by-gones be by-gones. You can takea joke;
and that is the surest way to avoid one. And
if anybody imposes on you, let me hear of is.”
24 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



“© And me,” —‘“‘ and me,”’—said two or three
at once. It was evident that some re able
interest had been awakened in the stranger.
Carl, however, drew himself up, and said, “I
believe you have all found out that I do not
often need help. I’m not fond of quarrels, but
I was taught by my mother not to fear.”

‘¢Where shall youspend the holidays?” asked
Mack.

“Heigh-ho! that is more than I can tell,”
replied Carl. ‘Probably my holidays will be-
gin rather too soon.”

‘¢ What do you mean by that, Carl ?”’

‘Why, I mean that I am going away sooner
than I wished. Instead of going to college, as
I hoped, I am informed by my uncle that I am
to be placed with a mathematical-instrument
maker in New York.”

There was silence for some minutes. Though
all had expected this news, no one knew what
tosay. At last, the smallest boy, Frank Shaw,
looked up in Carl’s face, and said, “ Carl, it
will never do; we can’t let you go. Whatcan we
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT, 25



do te keep you? Can’t we write a long letter to
Mr. Snakebug, and get him to let you stay ?”

“Schneckenburg is my uncle’s name,” said
Carl, with a smile; “but his mind is made up,
and he has good reasons for what he does,”

“‘ What reasons ?” asked Frank, eagerly ; but
the other boys prevented a reply.

‘Never mind about the reasons,”’ said Mer-
riman; “TIT hope something will turn up to
change your uncle’s purpose.—But who are
these horsemen ?”’

As he spoke, Dr. Newman rode up, In com-
pany with Mr. Barry. They had been riding
out to the neighbouring village, and now paused
to chat a few minutes with the boys. This
broke up the conversation for a moment, The
group was dispersed, and presently no one was
left on the bank but Carl, who waited a few ”
moments, and then began, with a sweet, touching |
Voice, to sing a little German song, beginning:

Kennst du das Land, wo die Citronen biithn 2*
cy
* Goethe. |
38


26 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



Presently he walked slowly along the forest-
path leading back to the Oaks. Why did he
60 often pause under the green branches? Why
did he reverently lift his cap, and look up-
wards? Why did the drops twinkle in his eye,
while his pale, thin lips moved? Why did he
take that little worn volume from his bosom,
and undo the silver clasp, and kiss the gilded
name upon the cover, and eagerly turn over
the pages, as if in search for some passage ?
These questions may be answered by some
readers without my prompting.

The truth was, Carl was a boy of many deep
reflections. He had been brought early into
the school of sorrow, and had borne the yoke
in his youth.t This had kept alive in him the
instructions of his mother and his grandfather,
now inheaven. Among the scholars, he found
none to sympathize with his serious feelings.
Some of them had even laughed at him when
he would sing his German hymns, and he even

_—-

{ Lam. iii. 27,
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 27



began to feel a shyness creeping over him in
regard to religious things. The only person
to whom he dared to open his mind was Mr.
Barry; for Barry had been in Germany, and
was himself an orphan; and, what was more,
Barry did not conceal his persuasion that reli-
gion is the main thing, and that no one can be
happy without it. It was, therefore, with plea-
sure that Carl saw, on leaving the wood, that
Barry was walking towards him, in the green
lane, having given his horse to a servant.

“Carl,” said he, with a joyful look, “mein
freund, fassen wir uns kurz: hier sind die
Briefe!” (But I must give the substance in
English.) “ Here, friend Carl—quick, my boy!
Here are the letters!” And upon this, he placed
in the trembling hand of the boy a couple of
sealed papers. He lost not a moment in tear-
ing them open. As he read, he turned pale and
red by turns, and at length burst into tears.

“ Well,” said Barry, “what have you to say
now ?”’

“T have to say,” said Carl, looking upward,
23 CARL, THE YUUNG EMIGRAN'S.



“that God is a hearer of prayer. How soon
has he answered my poor little petitions! See!
See! Mr. Barry—read for yourself! I’m too
happy to tell you! I shall stay, I shall stay!
No leaving school for me! No instrument:
maker! Uncle says I shall stay! Oh! hap
py, happy Carl Adler! Thanks, thanks!’

Barry could not but be affected by the joy
of his little pupil. Boys began to gather
around. There are few secrets at their age.
By general request, Mr. Barry read aloud
parts of the letters, by which it appeared that a
grand-aunt of Carl’s, in Darmstadt, had author-
ized Mr. Schneckenburg, who was her son, to
expend as much money as should be necessary
for the education of Carl and his sisters, Char-
lotte and Ursula.

It is hard to say whether the little common-
wealth of the Oaks was most gratified by the
approaching fireworks, or by the news about
Carl. While he was only “the Dutchman,”
he was a butt for every one’s arrow; ‘as soon
as he became “poor little Carl,” he grew inte

.
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 29



a favourite. There was much shaking of hands
and congratulation ; and, what is worthy of no-
tice, none of the boys made any allusion to
their plans for his relief, which were now hap-
pily frustrated.

Some of the duller and coarser boys thought
it odd that Carl should frequently be caught
with wet eyes, at a time when he had so much
cause for joy. They perhaps learned to un-
derstand the thing better when they grew older.
As for Carl himself, I will not undertake to
explain his emotions. It is an effect of early
grief to give the appearance of greater age;
and Carl had, at fifteen, gone through more
vicissitudes, seen more countries, and learnt
more lessons, than many a man of forty. Well
was it for him that he had a gay, elastic temper;
and better still, that, he had been bred in the
right ways of the Lord. See him, in the dusk
of the evening, in his chamber. The shadow
is deepened by the enormous oak which extends
its branches almost to the eaves of the house.

The vociferous sports of the school below form
8*
80 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



a contrast to the silence of the chamber. Carl
sits in the window, with his arms folded, while
next his bosom he has two miniatures, and a
letter in one of his hands. What can he be
thinking about, if not the blessed days when
he sat with his father and mother under the
lime-trees of his native town? As he mused,
he grew sadder and sadder, till at length he
was about to become quite womanisk in his
tenderness, when, all of a sudden, a smart blow
on the shoulder woke him from his revery, and
he looked up, to discover that Barry stood over
him.

“Come, come, Adler,” said the usher ; “this
will never do! There is such a thing as pon-
dering too, much on one’s troubles.”

“Troubles, Mr. Barry! I was thinking of
my joys; how happy I was at home—and how
happy I ought to be now!”

‘Yes, you have much to be thankful for—
youth, health, strength, friends, and new pros-
pects of education. Don’t mope, don’t give
way to melancholy.”
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 31



“You mistake me, Mr. Barry. I never was
mure brimful of joy in my life, and yet I can’t
help thinking and thinking. And I have just
been saying to myself, Oh, how happy would
father and mother be, if they could see me so
well off!” “_

‘They are happier where they are, Carl.
Heaven is better than earth. Who knows but
that they are even now informed of your condi-
tion, and rejoicing init? At any rate, they are,
we trust, in Christ’s presence, where there is
fulness of joy; and the thought of this ought
to lead you to follow their steps. But come
out, and take some exercise: you can never
fulfil your duty in life without strength of
body ; and you will never have strength of body
without exercise.”

Down they went, for a long walk upon the
high-road, where there were houses in abun-
dance, and carriages and horsemen and pedes-
trians enough to break the thread of Carl’s
pensive thoughts. This was exactly what Barry
intended; and he further promoted the same


32 CARL, THE YOUNG pen

end, by a constant series of questions about
things the most remote from his companion’s
present affairs. Some people have yet to learn
that this is the true method of quieting dis-
turbed minds and diverting sickly thoughts.
But just then, amore violent interruption took
place. A horse suddenly appeared, running
away with a carriage, in which two ladies were
seated. The driver had been thrown out; and
the vehicle was rapidly approaching a rude
bridge, over which it seemed impossible that
they should pass unharmed. Barry disengaged
himself instantly from Carl, and rushed to-
wards the frantic animal. What he appre-
hended really occurred; the passage was too
narrow, the carriage was overturned into the
dry bed of a little summer-brook, and the horse,
entangled in the harness, lay struggling and
kicking, in the most alarming manner, while
the women, really-in the greatest peril, were
shrieking, and unable to extricate themselves.
Barry threw himself on the floundering horse,
and, holding his head close to the ground, pre-

/
te

CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 33



vented his rising, while he rapidly separated
him from the vehicle; all the while shouting to
Carl to take care of the women. It seemed a
most dangerous position for a man no stronger
than Barry; but he succeeded in separating the
horse, which he took out and made fast to a
neighbouring post, and afterwards repaired to
the green bank where Carl had deposited his
charge. One of the women was unhurt, the
other was bruised and bleeding, and shortly
the young farmer, who had been thrown from
his seat, came up, more frightened than hurt,
and full of apprehension about his wife and
sister.

As they resumed their walk, Carl said to
himself, ‘One thing is certain, whatever the
fellows may say, Mr. Barry is far from being
a coward: I shall tell this to Mack and Mer.
riman, the next ‘ime they utter such a slander |
on our usher,”’
€

84 GARI, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.

CHAPTER III.

WHAT MAKES THE HAPPY TEACHER?

To those who love it, teaching is as full of
interest as hunting to the huntsman, or flowers
to the gardener. Why should it not be as
interesting to contemplate different kinds of
boys as different kinds of minerals and plants?
Why should we not examine the ways and ha-
bits of girls, as eagerly as those of fish, fowl,
and insects? Next to parents, the persons
who get the clearest insight into children and
youth are teachers. Some of these only teach
for a living; it is a drudgery to them; they
mean presently to leave it and go to some-
thing else: how can such persons be happy
‘eachers? Others love their work, and ask
no better employment. Hence, they always
mect their pupils with a smile, and hear every
lesson with animation. The scholars, in their
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 35



turn, see this, and are all alive; teacher and
scholar pull together, and there is more pro-
gress made in a week than at one of the
drudging schools in a month.

“What!” exclaimed Miss Hotchkin, who was

on a visit at the Oaks,—“What! take plea- ~

sure in teaching such a set of uncombed colts
as those yonder!” And she pointed with her
parasol to the green, over which the boys, just
dismissed for their nooning, were bounding
and shouting. “The thing is impossible, Mr.
Barry.”

‘I dare say, you think so,” replied Barry ;
“yet, I say what I think and feel. It is a
positive pleasure to me to be their teacher.
And, then, allow me to speak a word for the
young fellows. They are now in their summer
trim and school-jackets, and you see them just
at the moment of release; but some of them are
already gentlemen, in every sense of the word,
and several of them are already scholars.”

“But such a noise, Mr. Barry! And such
violence !””
36 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT,



‘Noise, madam, is not always amiss. Ina
sick room, at a funeral, during worship or
study, noise would be altogether out of place.
But what say you to the noise of a mill or a
cascade? And what say you to a pack of
hounds, a parrot, or an aviary? It is as
much the nature of growing boys to exert
their limbs and lungs as for young kids to do
the same. It is healthful, it is unavoidable,
and to me it is agreeable.”

**QOh, sir, you shock me! Had I boys under
my charge, they should never be allowed to
bellow like those fellows,—nor’’—

‘‘Nor,” said Barry, smiling, “to have a torn
coat, or a speck on their shoes; all should be
starch and rose-water. It is not in this planet,
however, Miss Hotchkin, that your ideal semi-
nary can be conducted. The earth will soil,
cloth will wear, and youthful spirits will break
over the brim: our great task is to keep mat-
ters within bounds, and to prevent. ill words
and ill tempers.”

‘Can you ever persuade me, sir, that those
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 37



vehement fellows, who are now so busy in sad-
dling yonder calf, are fit for study ?”

“‘Among the first boys in the school,’’ re-
plied Barry, ‘and among the best in every
sense. You now see them full of spirit and
fun; you will presently see them silent, col-
lected, and studious, as eager to master a diffi-
culty in algebra or grammar as yesterday they
were te win at a rowing-match.”’

“You amaze me! I thought play and study
were exact opposites.”’

“So they are; but the charm of life is made
up of these delightful opposites. It is the
transition from hilarity to seriousness which
gives a zest to school-boy life, never to be
forgotten. I sometimes think we Americans
might gain something by carrying the same a
little farther into life. It might prevent some
wrinkles and gray hairs, even though it should
interrupt us a little in our race after money
or office.”

“So you let them do as they please ?”

“By no means, wanes! You see they are
88 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



this moment under my supervision: in half
an hour, I shall be relieved by Mr. Cole. Let
a single step be made into the field of impro-
priety or danger, and it becomes our duty to
check them. But why repress the genial flow
of a season which can never return? Even
Paul could say, without a word of disapproval,
‘When I was a child, I spake as a child, I un-
derstood as a child, I thought as a child.’ Dr.
Newman often says to the boys—and I agree
with hin—‘ Work while you work: play while
you play.’ ”’

“They are too merry, by half. Just think
of the troubles which await them in life!
What a preparation is this for them ?”

“‘T might answer you in the words of Gray,
written in view of such a scene:

‘To each his sufferings: all are men, ~,
Condemned alike to groan ;
The tender, for another’s pain,
The unfeeling, for his own.
Yet, ah! why should they know their fate,
Since sorrow never comes too late, |
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 39



And happiness too swiftly flies?
Thought would disturb their paradise.
No more; where ignorance is bliss,

Tis folly to be wise.’

Bat,” continued Barry, “I will not rest on
the poet’s answer, which is open to some ex-
ception. It is safer to say, what is unques-
tionable, that high animal spirits and the in-
dulgence in animated boyish sports is in no
degree inconsistent with the most sober views
of life that are proper in boyhood. Surely,
you would not have a boy to look on his future
course with the eyes of an old man! God
never intended it. Attempt to rear a child on
this plan, and you violently and cruelly resist
Providence.. No, no! If you would make
men of them, send your boys to a school
where they shall have wide range, free exer-
gcize, and where the teachers shall not be in
perpetual fear lest they break their necks.
If observation teaches me any thing, it is, that
they will study all the better for it.—But here
is my colleague, Mr. Cole, who takes my seat
40 CARL, TRE YOUNG EMIGRANT.

wae

of inspection, while I go to correct the Latin
exercises.”



Mr. Cole was a tall, raw-boned young man,
who had lately taken the place of second
usher in Dr. Newman’s school. His eyes
were deeply set in his head, and he wore spec-
tacles. His smile was so reluctant and sour,
that the boys used to say he laughed with the
wrong side of his mouth. Yet he was a con-
scientious and a learned young man, and had
gained a number of prizes for solving tough
problems in mathematics.

He approached the bay-window, in which
the visitor was seated, and made a very angu-
lar and jerking bow. It was well meant, and
Miss Hotchkin received it in good part,
though she could not help saying to herself,
‘How much some people fail in the graces of
life, by overdoing matters and not letting _
themselves alone !”’ |

“This spot,” said Mr. Cole, ‘is one on which
{ must intrude, as it is the only one which
commands a view of my entire field of battle,
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 41



and it will not do to leave these outlaws te
themselves.”

‘‘Outlaws! do you call them, Mr. Cole?
Are they not scholars? And are they not
gentlemen’s sons ?” |

Mr. Cole smiled, in his peculiar way, and
said, ““You may be sure, madam, they are
such that I would not stay another day among
them, if it were not to enable me to prepare
for a professorship of which I have the offer.”

“Then, you do not love teaching ?”

“Love it! ‘Talk of loving to drive cattle,
or herd swine! No animal known to me is so
annoying as a half-grown boy.”

And here Mr. Cole picked off from his coat-
tail an impudent label, which he had just disco-
vered, and which some wag of an urchin had
attached to him by means of a pin.

_ “Why, Mr. Cole, your estimate of boys is
not like that of Mr. Barry.”

“No, no, indeed it is not. Mr. Barry is a
young man of genius; especially versed in the

modern tongues; not bad, I must own, even
4*
42 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



in the higher mathematics; a good fellow,
too,—but, but,’ —

“But what ?”’

‘“‘But he is a boy himself; and, therefore,
he loves boys; loves to teach them, loves to
be with them—strange to say, loves to play
with them. He therefore looks on his situa-
tion here with eyes very different from mine.”
And here Mr. Cole wiped his spectacles.

‘‘ Youare very right, Mr. Cole. This way of
encouraging freedom and mirth in striplin gs, and
letting them vault over fences, run iike wild
goats, and bellow like oxen, is a way I was not
brought up to. And as to teaching them, I
can judge what it is, by an attempt I made to
teach a chambermaid of ours to read: my tem-
per was so curdled by her stupidity, that we
never got-beyond the alphabet. But what suc-
cess has Mr. Barry on his plan ?”

“Oh, better than-I can account for. No
classes show better than his. Indeed, truth
forces me to say, that his pupils make extraor-
dinary progress.”
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 45



‘Perhaps it is because they like him so
much ?”’

“I dare say that is it, madam. They will
do any thing for him, though he is perfectly in-
exorable as to his rules and regulations, and, in
some respects, is the strictest man in the house.
But he has singular ways of interesting them
in their work. Indced, he seems to be actually
interested himself, and goes over a geography
lesson with as much zest as if he were the
youngest among them, and were getting the
lesson with them.”

“That is singular, indeed; but it shows how
light his labour is.”’

“Tt does, Miss Hotchkin. And all this is in
great contrast to my case; for I go into school
with the spirit of a turnkey, and come out with
a wish not to behold the face of a lad during
the interval.”

i Well, well, Mr. Cole, we all have our weak
points and our strong points; and it is very
plain that neither you nor I were ever intended
to gain eminence as teachers.”
44 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



Mr. Cole reddened, and said, ‘“‘ Excuse me,
madam; you do not exactly take my meaning.
I would not have you to suppose that I am de-
ficient as a teacher. On the contrary, I have
the pleasure of believing that I am as well in-
structed and as laborious as any man here.
But, the truth is, [do my work against my will.”

‘¢Then, sir, be assured, you do it poorly,”
said Miss Hotchkin, witha shrill laugh, for she
loved to say things which sting. ‘Yes, you
do it poorly. So should I, but I take good
care to shun every thing like school-teaching,
and so should you. Good morning, Mr. Cole.”
And here she tripped away, to walk five miles
before dinner, and to gain spirits for a party
in the evening.

Mr. Cole, though somewhat mortified at the
turn the conversation had taken, was led to
some new reflections. Especially was he drawn
to consider the secret of his past troubles as a
teacher. These reflections were much seconded
by aremarkable coincidence. It was the day
for him to correct the English compositions of

/
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 45



,
the boys. Among these was a little one by
Garl Adler. Here it is, in its corrected form;
for it had numerous violations of idiom.

Carl's Composition.

Methought I was admitted one evening to a
room full of boys and girls, who had their
books before them. ‘The teacher seemed to be
a capable and worthy person, but still the chil-
dren did not advance. Some were careless,
some were stupid, and some were cross. The
teacher was concerned, and even vexed. He
went first to one, and then to another. Head-
vised, he threatened, he even chastised them.
Still there was little progress, and the poor
teacher went to bed quite disheartened; but
before he fell asleep, he offered a prayer that
he might know what it was that he needed.

The next morning, I looked into the same
room, and saw the same teacher, and the same
little boys and girls, getting the same lessons.
But what a change! All were on the alert;
ali were diligent; all were delighted. The
46 CARL, THE ZOUNG EMIGRANT.



frowns and the rod were both laid aside. Joy
played upon all the happy countenances; and
the happiest of all was that of the teacher. °

But now I perceived a new inmate in the
room. Wherever the teacher went among his
children, a bright and beautiful form accom-
panied him, or hovered over him. It was
fair and benignant, and smiled gently on every
part of the work. Lapproached with diffidence,
and asked the name of this new assistant. With
a heavenly smile, she turned to me, and an-
swered, ‘I am Love.”’

It was only one instance, out of many, in
which scholars instruct their teachers, without
knowing it. The lesson was not altogether lost
on Mr. Cole, though he never carried it fully
into practice.
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 47

CHAPTER IV.

LESSONS OUT-OF-DOORS.

A LARGE garden affords some of the best
tmusements and safeguards, of either family or
school. Not only does it keep the young folks
out of mischief, but it benefits their health and
teaches them many useful lessons. The gar-
den at the Oaks had been originally laid out
for a gentleman’s estate. The great green-
house still remained ; the grape-vines were an-
cient and knotty, and clambering over the
largest trees. The box-borders were’ several
feet high, and made fine hiding-places for the
boys. A trumpet-creeper had hung its green
mantle over the whole side of a building which
lay on one boundary of the garden. In the
middle stood a stubborn-looking holly, beset by
its prickly palisade, with every leaf separately
armed; a noble tree, both for beauty and for
associations.
48 CARL, THE YCUNG EMIGRANT.



When a boy came to school, he was allowed
free access to this garden and the tool-house;
but it was not until he had been there a month
that he was allowed to have a plot of ground
to cultivate for himself. Before this month
was out, more than half the young gentlemen
threw up the spade and dibble: but there were
always some who continued to till their little
gardens. These were separated by narrow
gravel-walks, edged with box. The boys were
permitted to choose any sort of cultivation —
vegetables, flowers, or fruits; the only condition
being that they must stick to what they began.

Donald, the old gardener, was invested with
absolute authority in the enforcement of these
rules; and sometimes the young gardeners were
onthe point of insurrection. Like other emeutes,
however, in larger governments, these were
mostly unsuccessful. Princes have smiles as
well as frowns, rewards as well as punishments;
and though ‘“‘ King Donald,” as he was called,
had neither blue ribands nor embassies in his
gift, he had green-gages, seckel-pears, and de-
CARu, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 49

—_—_—

licious grapes and peaches. Hence, the latter
part of summer was almost always a time of
peace in his government ; there was little work
end much fruit, and subjects were exceedingly
quiet.

One day, about noon, when every thing was
radiant in the sun—it was about the middle of
August—Donald was cleaning and trimming
the dead leaves from a fine pomegranate-tree,
wheeled out on the north terrace. The deep
green of the foliage, contrasting with the laugh-
ing red of the blossoms, caused Helen Newman to
break out into admiration. She was in mourn-
ing, for she had lately met with that greatest
loss for a child, the loss of a mother. . But the
sweet works of creation, it may be observed,
do not interfere with the sacredness of grief.
What God has spread out in the sky and on the
earth soothes the ruffled spirit, which would
revolt at a gay speech or a boisterous jest.
The old man pitied the young lady. He had
served her mother many, many years; and,

what was more, he had been tried with afflic.
5
50 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



tion; he knew how to sympathize with those
who suffered. He wisely drew Helen's atten-
tion from one to another beauty of the garden,
till she was entertained and refreshed almost
against her will. He showed her how the lady-
slippers flaunted in their parti-coloured coats ;
and how the large altheas, from good pruning,
were all over flowers. ‘Tiger-lilies, late roses,
and the stately yucca,‘ were in season. Old
Donald pointed out the beauties of each. But,
not content with this, he went to a choice
corner of the green-house, and brought. her a
bouquet of rare and exotic flowers; and his
hard, withered old face softened into a fatherly
smile, as he placed it in Helen’s hand. But,
while she was examining its colours, and en-
joying its fragrance, and for a moment forget-
ting herself in these flowers of the field, she
was violently interrupted by a rush of the
young gardeners into their place of labour.
She could not but smile when she saw Bolton,
Burnham, and Merriman, with coats off, and
faces flushed with expectation, pressing around
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 51



Donald, beseeching him to furnish them with
some strawberry-plants, to set out in their beds.
It so happened that King Donald was not in
the best humour with them, by reason of a
trampling down of his newly-sown turnip-beds ;
he therefore held out some time against these
requests. At length, however, Carl entered
the garden, and joined in the petition; upon
which the old man instantly relented.

“‘What is the reason, Donald,” said Helen,
“that you always seem so partial to the Ger-
man ?”

“Because he ¢s a German, miss. I mean,
because he is a foreigner. I was once a new-
comer in this land, myself, and I ‘know the
heart of a stranger,’ as the Bible says.’”*

“I thank you for your kind feeling,” said
Carl; “but, indeed, I am suffering very few
of the troubles of a foreign boy, just now. It
was rather different when I first arrived; but
a text in the same good book often came into





* Ex. xxiii. 9.
52 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



my mind, when I was walking in the crowds
of New York: [‘The Lord] doth execute the
judgment of the fatherless and widow, and
LOVETH THE STRANGER, in giving him food and
raiment.’ ”’*

9

‘Well said, my boy!” said Donald, smiling
and patting Carl on the shoulder; “keep up
your courage, and the day will come when you
will feel as much at home in America as ever
you did on the Rhine. I do, as muéh as ever
I did at Kelso and Hawick. It is so with
trees and shrubs. See that ailanthus, or ce-
lestial tree, how kindly it grows here, though
it came from the Moluccas; and see this
double althea, or Hibiscus Syriacus, which has
forgotten its native Asia.”’

‘“‘Very well, Donald,’’ said Carl, “I hope it
will be so. But I see by the knots and marks
on this althea, that it has had a good deal of
eutting and pruning, and so have I.”

“Look again, my young friend,” said the —

* Deut. x. 18.
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 53



gardener, “and you will observe the effects of
this cutting and pruning. ‘The little tree has
become more vigorous, and has put out thicker
branches, and is covered with ten times as
many flowers as if it had never known afflic-
tion. This is one of the lessons of the gar-
den.”

“‘T see it, I see it!” exclaimed Helen; “and
I trust we shall all profit by the hand of our
merciful Lord.”’ |

“Just so, young lady,” replied the old man,
with a benignant smile. ‘For, what Says our
blessed Master? ‘Every branch that beareth
fruit, he purgeth it, that it may bring forth
more fruit.’ ”’





* John xv. 2.

6*
64 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.

CHAPTER V.

TEACHING AND TRAINING.

l'ne Oaks was a famous place for active and
manly exercises. Not only did the boys all
learn horsemanship, as a necessary part of
their education, but the teachers frequently
made little excursions, in the same way, to
greater distances than they could have reached
on foot. One day, the two ushers were seen
mounting a couple of bright sorrel horses be-
longing to Dr. Newman. The Doctor himself
was looking on with satisfaction, as they set
forth.

“There are few things,’

’

said Mr. Barry,
“more exhilarating than a ride on a fine horse.
It puts the blood in motion, and agitates the
frame; it cheers the spirits and exercises the
courage; it carries one rapidly through
changes of scene, and gives much pleasure
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 55



ut little expense. What a pity its value is so:
much unknown to sedentary men !””

“All true,” said Cole, “provided a man is
a good rider. For my part, you see, I sit my
horse like a pair of compasses. I could see
the stable-boys tittering, as I rode through the
gate.”

“They are severe critics in their own de-
partment, Mr. Cole. But why should’ you not
practise till you become expert ?”

“I am ready enough to practise, but every
one laughs at my awkwardness. I seem to
make no progress.”’

“You must have had bad teachers,” said
Barry, “for you seem to be a willing scholar.”

“Why, do willing scholars always make
proficiency ..

“Yes, unless incompetent from some na-
tural defect; and you appear to have all the
usual limbs. You must have had bad train-
ing.”
“I can’t altogether admit it,” replied Cole,
though with some embarrassment, for his horse
v6 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



showed strong dispositions to throw him over
his head. “I can’t altogether admit it; for
some of them are excellent riders, and they
are every moment pointing out my faults, and
every moment trying to laugh me out of
them.”’

‘“‘T have seen that method tried in schools,
Mr. Cole’ —

‘“‘T have tried it myself,” said Cole.

‘But I have never seen it succeed. It dis-
courages, it disheartens, it sours the mind, it
disgusts the beginner.”’

“What! you would not point out faults!”

**T would point out faults; but it is the very
smallest part of the teacher’s work.”’

“Suppose, Mr. Barry, you exemplify your
rule, in regard to my riding,’’ said the other
with a smile.

No sooner said than done. Barry dis-
mounted in an instant, and, applying himself
to the stirrup-leathers, lengthened them about
three inches.

‘That is the first step,” said Barry. No
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT, 57



man of your dimensions can ride, either safely
or gracefully, when trussed up after that fa-
shion. In the next place, good sir, allow your
heel to withdraw itself a little from the horse,
as every motion makes him feel the spur.
The same means will help you to what is
called the clip, by which you will hold on the
better.”

After a few roods had been passed, Cole
said, “‘I feel much easier already. I think I
am improving.”

Certainly,» you are; and the reason is
worth your notice: I have given you a little
training.”

“You seem to lay an emphasis on that
word, Mr. Barry.”

“I do, sir. Did you ever consider the
difference between teaching and training ?
And did you ever apply it in the school-
room ?”’

“Tam not sure that I take your meaning.
But I am willing to be informed; especially ag
Ihave long observed that you have a knack
58 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



of bringing on your pupils, which casts me al-
together in the shade.”’

“As to that, Mr. Cole, I am not a fit judge:
but I am persuaded of one thing, namely,
that in school-keeping, in forming habits, in
moulding manners, in every thing connected
with education, we must not only teach, but
train.”’

** Do not keep me in suspense, Mr. Barry ;
pray what is your meaning ?”

‘‘ Let me state a case,” replied Barry. “A
boy comes into school, who writes a very bad
hand. You laugh at him, you storm at him,
you punish him. You say a hundred times
that he writes ill, that he writes horribly, that
nobody can endure it, and this you consider
teaching him. Still he writes as illegibly or
as scrawlingly as ever. You think your duty
is done, but you have as yet had no effect on
him. He pouts, mopes, flounders, and de-
spairs: but no progress. Ferule, keeping-in,
black marks, extra tasks, all are tried, and all
fail.”
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 59



“Yes,” said Cole, “I know Just such a case.
But what remains to be done ?”

“T will tell you, Mr. Cole. It remains that
you tram hita. Show him, not merely wherein
he goes wrong, but how to go right. Sit down
beside the boy. Show him how to lay his book,
and how to hold his pen. Take his hand in
yours, and direct its motion. The negative
part is not enough: give him the positive part.
Pat him on the shoylder; forbear sneers and
threatenings, and show him precisely what he
is todo. Do it before him. Encourage him.
Put him in the way, and hold him up in it, as
you would teach a little child to walk.”

“Barry, there is really something in What
you say. Suppose you give me another ex-
ample !’’ |

“Very well. _ Take the case of Tom Mow-
bray. He had an ugly trick of speaking in a
very cross manner to his little brother. When
I began to deal with him, I did nothing but
point out his error. This he saw, but still he
was as cross as before. At length Dr. New-
60 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



man took him in hand, and, in a smiling way,
said to him, ‘Mowbray, I see you disapprove
several things in little James. Now let me ad-
vise you to speak to him thus.’ And then
he showed him how to address his brother,
and how to reprove him with a kind and per-
suasive tone. After a few days’ training, the
- whole manner of the youth was altered. Both
the boys improved rapidly, and every one ob-
serves the increase of their mutual affection.
The Doctor brought him out of the wrong way,
by putting him into the. right.”

“* But you would tell him of the wrong way
too, would you not?”

“Certainly,” said Barry; “but this is tell-
ing him only part, and, as I said just now, the
lesser part. The great thing in all training is
to lead along in the right way. Look at old
Donald when you return, and observe how he
trains his vines. Just so would I train a boy
to learn his Greek verbs. And allow me to
say, Mr. Cole, no amount of hard words will
drive Greek verbs into a boy’s head."
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 6]



“Ah, I see your drift! You overheard me
berating Bolton yesterday; but what should I
have done ?”

‘Let me tell you what I would have done.
I would have sat down by him half an hour, in
the verandah, with a Greek grammar, and
would have shown him how to get the lesson.
L would have got it with him. The method,
thus attained, would then be his own for life.
And so of every thing else.”’

“That reminds me of what we read in school,
that Julius Cesar did not commonly say to his
soldiers, Go, but Comz! For he went before.”

‘Yes, and when he meant to punish them,
he ceased to call them commilitones, or fellow-
soldiers. But we must turn our horses’ heads

homeward, and if you are fora gallop, I will try

to suit the action to the word, and show you
_how to go over the ground more speedily tha
you ever did before.” 5
“T thank you for your teaching and your
training,” answered Cole. But the words were

scarcely audible, for his hair was soon stream-
6
§2, CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



ing in the wind, and I know not but he would
have cried to his lively companion to halt, if he
had not been restrained by shame. As it was,
they reached the Oaks in safety, and were
soon exemplifying their principles amidst the
hum and buzz of a well-filled school-room.
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 538

CHAPTER V.

FRIENDS OF THE STRANGER,

NEAR the scene of the. principal events
which have been related, there was a country
school, taught by a young woman named
Brewer. It was in a small Stone house, of
a single story, situated, as country school-
houses love to be, on the edge of a wood, where
the grassy bank was overshadowed by oaks
and maples. Mary Brewer loved the spot,
because it gratified her admiration of nature,
while it afforded her the opportunity of im-
proving her mind, and at the same time of sup-
porting her aged parents. There is something
not only pleasing, but heroic, in the going
forth of so many daughters in America to re-
lieve their families from the burden of main-
‘aining them; and I could name not a few of
these persons who have Subsequently become
64 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



ornaments to the highest circles. Properly
viewed, indeed, every faithful teacher already
belongs to the highest circle; but I use the
phrase in its common worldly acceptation.

Go by the Maplebank school, about noon,
and very likely you will see Mary Brewer
seated under the grape-vine at the door. It is
September, and the purpling clusters are hang-
ing over her head. The pigeons, that swell
and coo around her, show that they know who
is their friend. But, hark! What a jocund
shout! It is the noise of the little boys and
girls, amusing themselves at their swing, all
fun and frolic, full of health and activity, learn-
ing as much from flowers and trees as they
could possibly do from books. If the swing
should break, they would not have very far to
fall, and the grass is almost as soft as a bed.
So, as long as they do not quarrel, Mary remains
contented at her embroidery, every now and
then stealing a side-look at a volume which
lies open beside her.

The rosy-cheeked girl at Mary’s feet is a
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 65
eo ee

little child whom she has taken to bring up,
and whose parents were carried off by the
cholera. You might guess, from the clear red
and white of her complexion, the pearly teeth,
and the bright blue eyes, that Hannah is of Irish
blood. But she knows nothing of Ireland ex-
cept what is in her Seography-lesson, and hag
no thought about any friend but Miss M ary.
The boy who is entering the little enclosure
around the school-house, and taking off his hat
to Mary, is no other than our friend Carl]
Adler. His face reveals that he has had a
rapid walk; but Carl is a youth who can bear
a good deal of fatigue and exposure. Perhaps
| ought to tell how he became acquainted with
Mary Brewer. He met her, on a visit of mercy
to a poor German family, in the neighbour.
hood of the Oaks. Carl had been drawn to
their assistance by hearing from their hovel,
as he passed one day, the well-known melody
of a German hymn. He first stopped, then
opened the door, and then joined heartily in

the chorus. The effect was instantanevus,
6*
66 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT,



The poor woman sprang up from the bedside
of her husband, and almost clasped Carl in
her arms. No other introduction was needed.

There is something very pleasing in the
power of Christian hymns over the German
mind. The Protestant emigrants, who come
by thousands to New York and New Orleans,
are seldom without their pocket hymn-books.
The tunes of their hymns are not so often
changed as ours; many of them are hundreds
of years old, and a hymn is seldom sung to
more than one tune. Hence, the associations
with certain melodies are very strong. Just
as is the case among ourselves with certain
song-tunes,—for example, the “Star-spangled
Banner,” which at once suggests the patriotic
words. Those who visit German Christians in
humblelife should learn their tunes.

Carl was naturally desirous to help his coun
tryman, who was a worthy joiner, but who had
been brought very low with ship-fever. Often,
when no one knew where Carl had strayed, he
was seated by the invalid’s bed, reading to
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT, 67



him from the Bible, or the Hymn-book, or
from Arndt’s True Christianity, or Luther’s
House-Postils. Blessed employment for a
pious youth! It educates the heart, and
teaches the affections early to flow in right
channels. During one of these visits, Carl
was surprised at the entrance of a young wo-
man, plainly dressed, and much older than
himself, but of comely appearance, and with a
face flushed with exercise, and perhaps with
modest confusion at seeing him. She was
bringing some little diet-drink for the poor
man, in a white pitcher, covered with a still
whiter napkin. After a few moments’ rest,
she was glad to avail herself of Carl as an’
interpreter. Thus, the acquaintance began,
Miss Brewer was so much older than Carl,
that even waggish boys could not banter him
about his intimacy; and the friendship became
4 source of mutual advantage. Mary Brewer
was one of those young women, in humble life,
whe abound in America ; and whom every pa-
‘riot ought to prize and honour: modest, but
68 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



firm and enterprising; first supporting them-
selves, and then, in many cases, supporting
their aged parents, or educating their younger
brothers for college and the ministry. My
heart warms towards them, while I write, and
wishes them every blessing. Many was well-
instructed, and amply furnished for teaching
her little rustic school; but her thirst for
knowledge was unsated: and it seemed to her
@ romantic wonder, when she found there were
80 many things which she could learn from a
little German emigrant. She caused him to
be invited to Farmer Black’s, where she had
her abode, and where he met another visiter,
in the person of a young physician, Dr. Smith.
Carl had sagacity enough to discover that this
bashful, but learned, young man was about to
take Mary Brewer as his wife. _The doctor
was not only pleased to meet with the bright,
fair-haired boy, but was ready to help him in
his studies, and willing, in his turn, to take
lessons in German. He paid for these, by
giving instruction to Carl, in many little
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT, 69
endian

branches, of which, as a foreigner, he was yet
ignorant. He corrected his English; he
drilled him in grammar and composition; and
he even entered him in chemistry and botany.
Carl taught the two young friends to read mu-
sical notes, and diligently brought them for-
ward in the study of the German Bible, and
Some beautiful poems of Schiller and Burger.
These were happy and profitable days for all -
the three. Carl began to learn the delights
of a truly Christian friendship. He was soon
introduced to the Sunday-school, and gathered
around him a class of German and Swiss chil-
dren from the neighbouring paper-mill. Mean-
while, he became more accurately instructed
in the. great Principles of scriptural religion,
in which he had been sincere, but with obscure
and puerile notions. Here was exemplified
his own maxim, that the great helper, in
teaching, is Love: and he learned more in a
single evening of autumn, at the Cherry-hill
farm-house, than during a whole day at the
Oaks.
70 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



What can make up to a loving child the
loss of parents? Certainly, nothing on earth.
Yet, when father and mother are gone, we
may find some relief in the presence of sin-
cere and affectionate friends. Carl found the
truth of this at Cherry-hill. When the nights
began to grow longer, he was permitted by
Dr. Newman sometimes to spend a long even-
ing at the farm-house. Then, when the doors
were closed, and the curtains pulled down,
the family began to gather in what they called
the “living room.” Mrs. Black was at her
wheel or her knitting. The rosy-cheeked girls
were busy with their needles, altering winter
clothes for the younger brothers. The bro-
thers themselves were playing with Ponto, or
trimming sticks for their kites, or perhaps
mending their bridles. The farmer generally
had on his steel-rimmed spectacles, and was
toiling through his newspaper, before reading
in Henry’s Commentary, which he always
looked at before going to bed. Dr. Smith
and Mary Brewer had little chats in the shady
CARL, THE Young EMIGRANT, 71
ners

part of the room: but when Carl’s well-known

might cheer up the little German, and make
him feel at home. There is a great difference
in people as to this. I have known Some who
seemed to take a pleasure in always speaking
of those things which tended to revive the
remembrance of Sorrows and mortifications,
Not so the benevolent Christian ; not so Smith
and Mary, They Tespected and loved. the
clever young Prussian; and they talked with
Pleasure about the things which he knew bet-
ter than they, : y

“Come in, Carl,” said Mary, on one 0cca-
sion, “come in, and taste Some of our grapes ;”
and she handed him a fine cluster. “Did you
ever see any so fine ?”

Carl thanked her, but smiled.

“Ah, Carl! do you pretend to think you
have ever seen finer ?”

** Yes, surely, Mary,” said Smith, ‘you
72 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



must remember, Carl comes from a country of
vines, from the famous river Rhine.”’

‘““Come, then, and tell us about it,” said
Mary, with much animation. ‘Tell us about
Bingen ; tell us about Ehrenbreitstein.”’

‘‘Ah! my dear young miss, if I should tell
‘you all the thoughts I have, about our vine-
yards, our groves, and about my shady home,
the tears would run down my cheeks. But
you have taught me that I can be happy here,
too; for here I have found friends.” ,

‘‘ Better, these, than grape-vines !” cried the
farmer, in his gruff, but hearty, voice; for he
had overheard the conversation.

“Oh, yes, sir,” said Carl; ‘better than alk}
the vines, rocks, and rivers in all Germany ;
but not—but not better than’’—

“Than what?” said the farmer. “Speak
it out, my lad.”

Carl did not finish his sentence; and a tear
was in his eye. So, to draw off attention, he
seized an old guitar of Mary’s, and struck up
a little innocent German ballad, beginning
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT, 73
Bie.

Mit dem Pfeil] und Bogen,
Durch Gebirg’ und Thal,
Kommt der Schiitz gezogen
Frith’ im Morgenstrahl, *

Then, seizing his leathern cap, he made a
formal little bow, and dashed away, leaping
_ and singing, across the low grounds which led
to the Oaks. As he bounded along he felt the
blessings of health and courage, and thanked -
God inwardly for the blessing of Christian
friends,

o- . . a ce nial titiaitaedet al ~~ — re ~——
f

* Schiller,
34 CAKL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.

CHAPTER VI.

WORK AND PLAY.

Dr. Newman, Mr. Barry, and Mr. Cole had
been talking all one afternoon about the right
way of mixing up amusement with instruction.
They all agreed that the thing might be carried
too far, and that it would never do to have
spelling lessons in gingerbread and philosophy
in games at cards; still the Doctor admitted that
there was an extreme on the other side; for,
said he, every valley lies between two hills,
and I would not have Jack a dull boy: I
would not keep the pupil always grave, always
tense, always feeling the bit, always in heavy
harness. But my maxim is, when you work,
work: when you play, play. Do not try to
variegate your common lessons too much, be-
cause part of the discipline of all education is
_ to keep the mind at one thing, to hold it in
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 7é



one place, and to learn to do and to bear
things which at first were disagreeable.

“Would you not,” said Mr. Barry, who was.
Particularly fond of lively ways, “would you
not enliven studies by anecdote and illustra-
tion and experiment ?”

‘“Yes, to be sure I would. For example, it
is very hard to fix in young people’s minds any
notion of the planetary system.”’

“‘T have observed it,” said Cole. “< They
learn the names and recite the figures, but
have no conceptions of the relative size of
the bodies, or the dimensions of the orbits.”

“This is the very thing I mean,” said the
Doctor; ‘and this is a fair case for illustra-
tion. Now, do me the favour to eall up the
group of fellows whom I see yonder at the
swing; they look as if they were at a pause
for amusement.”

Barry walked towards the swing, which was
@ great grape-vine, suspended from an oak; but
the boys came leaping towards him before hé ‘
came near. Presently the whole cluster was *

¢
16 CARL, THE YOUNG EM1).-AFT.

gathered at the green place under the bow-
window. ‘There were Bob Bolton and Merri-
‘man, glowing with exercise ; there were Burn-
ham and Mack, ready for mischief; and there
was our blue-eyed Carl, with fair curly hair,
looking sad at one moment and indescribably
merry at another.

“ Boys,” said Dr. Newman, “how many of
you can tell me the number of the planets ?”’

All answered pretty well except Burnham,
who seemed to have been asleep ever sinc?
there were seven planets only.

“Tam going,” said Dr. Newman, “to give
you some notion of the size and distances and
orbits of the planets, and you must try to ima-
gine the picture as 1 draw it. It is the illustra-
tion of a great astronomer.* Are you ready ?”’

“Ready, sir!” |

“ Now, suppose yourselves over @ great
green plain or prairie, miles across:”’

“Yes, yes, that is fine; go on, sir.”

——



caciduisesenenepensilptaetietieiantineca aA L TT

*§ir John Herschel : ‘ Outlines,” 1849.
CAKL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 17



‘Let it be very level and smooth, because
our planets must have free room for their
rounds. In the very centre of this plain
imagine a globe, two feet in diameter. Call
this globe the Sun.”

‘Ah! I see it already,” exclaimed Carl.

“Wait a little, my boy; you don’t see it all
yet. Around this globe, let a grain of mustard-
seed go round and round, in an orbit one hun-
dred and sixty-four feet in diameter. The
mustard-seed is Mrrcury.”’

The boys laughed heartily at little Mercury,
and guessed he could scarcely be seen at that
distance.

‘Next place a pea, going round a circle
two hundred and rie feet in diameter.
The pea is VENUS.’

‘‘T have seen it,”’ said Bob, “as the evening
star.”

“Yes,” said the Doctor ; “and if you would
only rise a little earlier, you might see it as the
morning star. But we have a great way to

travel. Here is pea number two, which is” —
7%
75 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



“Our poor little Earth !’’

‘‘ Even so; this pea is the EARTH, on a circle
of four hundred and thirty feet. Then comes
Mars, a rather large pin’s head, on a circle
of six hundred and fifty-four feet. But what
have we here? Four grains of sand, in orbits
of from a thousand to twelve hundred feet:
these are JUNO, CERES, VESTA, and PALLAS.”’

‘“T don’t know any of them,” said Bob
Burnham.

‘‘Perhaps, then, you will be better pleased
with this orange, of moderate size, moving in
a track nearly half a mile across: it is named
Jupiter. Next comes a small orange, on a
eircle of four-fifths of a mile: it is SATURN.”’

“T thought,” said Mack, ‘‘that Saturn was
larger than his son.”

‘A very common error,” replied the Doctor.
‘But here we have Uranus, or Herschel, a
full-sized cherry, or small plum, upon the cir-
cumference of a circle more than a mile and a
half. Lastly, NepruNz, a good-sized plum, on
a circle two miles and a balf in diameter.”
,

CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 79

$



“‘T thought, sir,” said Burnham, “ that Nep-
tune was the god of the sea;” and the good-
natured boy scratched his head in much per
plexity.

This was the signal for an outbreak of
pent-up fun. All broke out together on Burn-
ham; and even Carl could not help saying,
“And now you find him only a good-sized
plum—eh ?”’

““No, no,” replied Burnham, with an air of
injured pride. “ What I mean is this, young
gentlemen: Neptune, to my thinking, is a
heathen god, the son of—of—of”—

‘Never mind his father and mother,” said
Bob Bolton. “I see ydur perplexity: you
thought he was a water-god, and you wonder
at his being in the sky.”

This little badinage led Dr. Newman and
Barry to explain to the boys the whole subject
of the constellations and their names. And
when the beautiful clear night came on, all the
boys were assembled at that part of the por-
tico where a glass-door extended to the floor.
80 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT



A large celestial globe was placed within the
window, so as to be under shelter; w4 hile the
little company looked abroad upon the vault
of heaven. Teachers should all make them-
selves acquainted with this easy and delightful
branch of science. Nothing is more interest-
ing to youth; nothing is more elevating. It
connects itself with the higher parts of astro-
nomy, with history, mythology, and poetry; and,
above all, with religion and the word of God.

After they had satisfied themselves with
| star-gizing, Mr. Cole said, with animation,
“Well, I must acknowledge, here is high en-
tertainment mingled with high instruction. I
hope to be a wisernd happier teacher, in con-
sequence of this lesson.”

“Do you love teaching ?” said Carl to Mr.
Cole.

The assistant paused, remembering the com-
position ; but seeing that Carl was innocent in
his question, he replied, “Not so much as
some—Mr. Barry, for instance—but more thar
Tdid. But why do you ask?”
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. a1
7
“Because I have been parang myself of



trying to teach.”

“You! Carl. I thought you were going to
college.”’

“Ah!” replied Carl, “I should like to do
80, indeed, but” —

“Ah, my good fellow, I see how it is. You
want to make an honourable support. Res
angusta domi,* and so forth. I know how to
feel for you.”’

“Then,” said Carl, brightly, “you have
had the same experience ?”’

“Yes, indeed, like many other New England
boys, of whom hundreds, if not thousands,
have begun life in this way. And I am not
ashamed to say my father was a poor man,
who brought up a family of five sons and a
daughter, on a farm of thirty-five acres. Three
of us have been to college, and have all made
our way by teaching. Perhaps we may com-
fort the old age of our parents, and keep our

ee ee a



* Straitened circumstances.
$2 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



sister from hard work. I only wish I had the
same liking for the work which I observe ir,
Mr. Barry.”

» “T know I shall like it,” said Carl, warmly.
“T always loved to tend and rear plants and
flowers, and these are living, thinking, immor-
tal plants and flowers !”

‘You grow poetical, Carl.”

‘So the boys are always saying to me,” an-
swered Carl. “But how can I help it? I
think our German blood runs faster than that
of the English.”

“At any rate,” said Mr. Cole, “ you let
your feelings overflow more readily in words.

~When you are much moved, your only rule
seems to be, out with it!”

“Very well,” said Carl, with a smile, “that
will be all the better in a schoolmaster ; for
how can we teach much, unless we express
something? And how can we teach pleasantly
unless we are in earnest? I always find I
learn most with an animated teacher.”

Mr. Cole looked grave. “I know,” said
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 83

he, “you do not mean to reprove me; but I am
touched by the truth you have spoken. Dull
and drowsy teaching is heavy work to both
parties.” f

“Certainly, Mr. Cole, I did not mean you
in what. I said. And let me tell you one
thing ;, all the boys have observed how much
more we learn from you than we did a month
ago.”

Mr. Cole retired to his chamber with plea-
santer thoughts than he had indulged for
long time.


S4 CARL, THE YOUNG £MIGRANT. -

CHAPYER VII.

THE EMIGRANT YOUTH ADVANCING TO MANHOOD.

Ir is not necessary to dwell on every link
in the chain of Carl’s history, as if we were
writing a chronicle. Already has the reader
been informed that the young German had
formed the plan of setting up a school for him-
self. Let us hasten to the accomplishment of
the purpose, leaping over the years which
intervened between the point where this narra-
tive began, and the day of Carl’s instalment
at the little school of Sunnyside. Suppose I
try to sketch the scene: it is one worthy of a
better pencil than mine. |

Among the numerous little coves which in-
dent the island-beach near to the city of New
York, there is one of singular beauty, not far
from the turbulent passage from the Hast
River into the Sound. The boiling torrent
* CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 85



dashes fearfully against the rocks, which are
often covered with foam, and smooth from the
dash of the waves for ages past. But, above
this rocky girdle, the land slopes with a gentle
curve, and is covered with the richest verdure.
Just beyond this natural lawn, the remains of
the forest overshadow the green, and give
retirement to many a strolling fisherman and
fowler; as in former days the mightier groves
protected the Indian, before these waters were
ever entered by Hendrick Hudson and hia
crews.

From some points, the steeples of the great
city, not many miles distant, may be clearly
seen, and, at most times, a heavy cloud from
the smoke of chimneys and furnaces 6verhangs
the spot. The wide river, or arm of the sea,
is frequented by craft of every description,
from the enormous steamboat, winding through

‘those difficult rocks and whirlpools towards ~

the Sound and the Atlantic, to the petty skiff,
in which city-boys too often venture their

lives. This makes the view from Sunnyside a
8
88 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



still, however, were in store for the lowly boy.
Smith and his kind-hearted Mary insisted that
Carl should be a boarder in their cottage ;
and their secret intention was that he should
pay nothing for it, any more than if he were
their own brother. ‘True, his chamber was
very near the roof, and had but one window;
but, then, it was almost smothered in honey-
suckles, and a bluebird held his little mimic
housekeeping exactly opposite, in a box fixed
to the maple-tree.

Carl did not complain that his pupils were
too few. Indeed, he wondered how he should
ever get along with so many. Out of nine
boys, he had to make five classes, if that can
be called a class which contains but one, as
did two of his: for the big boy and the man
could not be put with any companion, and his
largest group contained just three. He ma-
naged, however, to make some little array at
scripture-reading, in which the whole seminary
stood up together, not excepting Ludwig
Ewald, who read very comically indeed.
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 89



You must not think, because the institution
was small, that the teacher did not feel some
little importance. It would be surprising to
relate how many little paper books he pre-
pared; how he set down their names in order;
how he ruled lines in black and red ink; and
how he engrossed the rules in printing letters,
with a flourishing head in German text. These
innocent preparations showed the zeal with
which he set out. Other people have done
the like; and those have not been the worst
teachers who have most anxiously settled their
preliminaries. I must not conceal that, on
the first evening, about twilight, our young
schoolmaster walked very gravely into the |
meadows, and returned with two very smooth
birchen rods, the use of which he never com-
municated. But, as he trimmed off the ends
of these wands and put them into his desk, it
is said that he smiled. No president of a col-
lege ever felt more weighty responsibilities.

Carl was glad that his pupils were all boys.
The management of a girls would have
90 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



given him some embarrassment. His German
accent had not wholly forsaken him: but he
was at an age when peculiarities of this sort
wear away rapidly; and it is not every one
who would have detected his foreign origin.
Now and then, a stray farmer or labouring-man
would look in at the door, with or without rea-
son; and this was slightly embarrassing to the
young preceptor: but his mind was more and
more taken up with the responsible business of
teaching. Pens were to be made and mended.
Sums, as the children call all arithmetical ques-
tions, were to be set or examined; paper-
chickens, fly-traps and apples were to be seized
upon; untidy faces and hands were to be sent
out to the well. Then was the common round
of reading, spelling, geography and grammar;
the common adjudication of cases respecting
crooked pins and scrouging; and the common
rebukes of idle or quarrelsome children. Not
a little difficult was it to still the convulsions
of the little laughers, when poor Ludwig under-
took to read aloud his English lesson.
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT 91



It was a relief to Carl to go out under the
fine trees, or among the rocks of the shore, at
the interval of noon. A favourite spot with
the youngsters was a spring half a mile inland,
at the bottom of a small but deep basin, in the
pasture-ground. Here they secreted their jugs
of milk, and here they opened their little
dinner-baskets, and ate with a zest unknown at
city feasts; often exchanging the varieties of
the different families, and joying in the supe-
rior cakes of other mothers and aunts. These
simple cares and simple pleasures make up
much of an humble teacher’s life. Perhaps,
in later days, he inclines to suspect that more
ambitious vexations and delights involve the
same principles, teach the same lessons, and
reveal the same frailties. The heart of the
child is very much like the heart of the man.
92 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.

CHAPTER VIII.

FIRST LESSONS IN SCHOOL-KEEPING

In a safe and secluded cove, Carl Adler
sometimes gave lessons in a branch of educa-
tion not common in all schools: I mean swim-
MING. He was both a bold and an expert
swimmer, and under his directions every one
of his young pupils learned this healthful and
necessary exercise. He used to tell them of
the daring adventures of his countrymen on
the Rhine. He gave them, in English, Schil-
ler’s celebrated story of the Diver and the
Golden Cup. He informed them that the
Romans, in order to describe a person of ex-
treme ignorance, said that he could neither
read norswim. He read to them what Horace
says about swimming over the Tiber. He
helped them to repeat Dr. Franklin’s experi-
ment about floating and the kite. He showed
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 93



them, on the map, the strait of Hellespont, and
related in part the tale of Hero and Leander,
adding Lord Byron’s great feat at the same
spot, asa comment. He read to them, out of
missionary books, an account of the Sandwich
Isles, and of the surf-boards, and of the almost
incredibly early age at which the infants can
‘take care of themselves in the water. When
the tide made it safe, and the weather was fa-
vourable, this was a chief recreation of Carl
and his boys.

Among the entertainments of odd hours, he
formed the purpose of teaching all the school
to sing, as he had himself been taught in Ger-
many. ‘The thing is much more easily accom-
plished than is commonly thought. Most of
the difficulty complained of, resides in what is
not always detected—the utter inability of the
teacher to sing.

One fine summer evening, the whole company
was gathered under one of the shadiest trees, on
a knoll directly over the river. The sun had set,
and a refreshing breeze was rippling the water,
04 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



without, however, interrupting the calm that
everywhere prevailed. It was a favourable
moment for impressions from sacred song, and
the school let out all their voices with right
zood will, as people are apt to do who sing in
the open air. Carl and Ludwig added a very
good accompaniment, in certain parts, on the
flute and violoncello. Such a volume of sweet
sounds did not fail to reach those who were
passing in boats, and, among the rest, a family
party, who had come out from the city for an
airing. Turning the head of the boat towards
Sunnyside cove, they made directly for the
land. Two boys, aged about sixteen and four-
teen, leaped ashore and made fast the little
vessel. A plank was run out, and two ladies,
one old and one young, stepped ashore. Seve-
ral children followed ; a servant came out last,
with two large hampers. The old lady ad-
dressed herself very politely to Ludwig, be-
lieving him to be the principal personage, and
then to Carl, when she had learned her mistake.
She asked leave to join their party, and declared
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 95



her fondness for good music to be such that
she could scarcely refrain from this act of
seeming forwardness.

Carl made all the courteous speeches that
he could muster up for the occasion. He said
his pupils were very young, and that they
were beginners. He proceeded, however, with
modest confidence, to lead them in an evening
hymn, and wound up with a German song about
the Rhine, in which Ludwig joined, both with
voice and instrument. Mrs. Grayson (such
was the lady’s name) and her children were
highly pleased, and next day sent from her
green-house and garden a basket of flowers and
a profusion of grapes, which Carl said put him
in mind of Germany.

But all the visits which the young preceptor
received were not equally agreeable. One
morning, as Carl, with one or two of the boys,
sat just in the door, engaged upon some lesson,
a buggy or light chaise suddenly stopped in
the road, and a young man, highly dressed, and
foppish in his manners, jumped out. “It aint
96 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



possible! Sure, this is not the Dutchman *
Why, Adler, is it really you?”

“Tt is I, Burnham,” answered Carl; “and I
am here teaching a little school.’’

“School! school !’’ shouted Burnham, in a
high state of amusement; and then, turning to
his companion—“ Here, Murdock, get out
quick, and see the Dutchman and his school.
Who'd a-thought it! Come now, and let one
of the brats hold the horse, while Murdock and
I examine.”

The two young dandies, who had been on @
drive out of town and had taken wine at the
ferry-house, now proceeded, in a way which
Carl found to be highly insulting, to make him
the object of their stupid jests. Carl was re-
solved, at any cost, to avoid sacrificing his
proper authority +n his own school. He order-
ed the little hoy who stood at the horse’s head
to come instantly into the house. The horse
would have escaped if Murdock had not taken
his place; and the animal was so restiff that the
young fellow found himself sufficiently occupied
vARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 97



in keeping him quiet. Burnham meanwhile
pretended to examine the boys, addressing
their teacher by the name of Dutchman, and
other contemptuous terms. At length, casting
his eye on Ludwig, he cried out, ‘‘ Well, grand-
daddy, and are you teacher or scholar?”
Ludwig replied, in broken English, but with
great warmth, ‘“‘I am the man what will put

you there out into the street ;” and seizing the
overgrown but lubberly fellow by the nape of
the neck, he gently, but effectually, placed
him by his conveyance, into which he was very
willing to get, with a sneaking look, and a
dreadful rent in his fashionable coat. His
companion gave him small consolation, saying,
“Served you right, you chicken-hearted booby!
I saw from the start that you would make a
fool of yourself.” And he gave whip to his
horse, as angry drivers are prone to do, and
was soon out of sight.

During this unusual scene, the little scholars
appeared much frightened, and huddled to-
gether, like a flock of sheep before a strange

9
93 CaRL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



dog. But when they observed that their young
teacher was quite collected, and when they
saw the big insolent intruder give way in such
a cowardly manner before the resolute German,
they plucked up courage, and were almost ready
to give three cheers.

Carl soon won the love as well as the respect
of his pupils. This will always be the case
where the teacher really loves his little flock.
His labour will then be a pleasure, and his
tasks will prove almost an entertainment. In-
stead of repining at his seclusion, and complain-
ing about the wearisome business of spending
so many hours with idle or disobedient children,
he will experience a satisfaction not unlike that
of a parent. The best maxim for a teacher is,
Love your scholars. It contributes equally to
comfort and success. Love will suggest a hun-
dred expedients which never could be learned
from the ablest treatises, or under the greatest,
professors. It will take the place of many a
punishment. It will fix attention and shorten
toil. It will win the froward and melt the
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 99



stubborn. In a word, it will, in almost every
instance, insure a good school.

Fondness for the company of the children
led Carl to pass many of his hours with them
when they were not at their tasks. He could
not, indeed, like some teachers, give them any
expensive entertainments. Poor fellow! it was
as much as he could do to procure food and
raiment ; and but for the generous friendship
of the Smiths, he would have felt the pinching
of want. But his inventive mind led him toa
number of cheap means for communicating
pleasure. Sometimes, on a Saturday after-
noon, they would stroll together over the
woods and meadows, and come home laden
with flowers and minerals, which Dr. Smith
taught Carl to arrange. Lessons in natural
history were turned to account, at odd hours;
and there is no pursuit which is more inviting |
to youth; none which exercises their faculftes
‘in a more safe way; and none which admits —
of more ready connection with divine truth.
Carl often amused the listening group with

°
100 CARL, THE YOUNG EM-GRANT.



pleasant stories out of the Greek and Latin
books which he was studying; which he found
to havea good effect in fixing in his own memory
what he had been reading. The very youngest
of them soon became acquainted with Cyrus
and the Persians, and could tell the anecdote of
the two coats, as related by Xenophon. They
could point out Troy and Rome upon the map,
and talked familiarly of Anchises, Aineas, Dido,
and the little Ascanius. They loved to hear
the sounding lines of Greek, which describe the
noise of the ocean, and the twanging of
Apollo’s silver bow, even though. they could
not tell the meaning of a word. In like man-
ner they learned a pretty long German ballad,
which they sang in parts. Carl further amused
himself by drilling them in the questions and
answers with which French conversation com-
monly begins. Harmless games and riddles
and puzzles in arithmetic added to their holi-
day sports. But after all, it was not so much
the particular thing which he did, as the cheer-
ful, loving manner in which he did it, that
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 101



gained them over. In this way they were
drawn towards him, as a friend who had their
real welfare at heart, so that there was scarcely
any thing which they would not have done to
please him. And this was the more remark-
able, because he did not attempt to turn their
regular study into play. He remembered Dr.
Newman’s maxim, When you work, work R
and when you play, play. So that wnen
they were at their books, it was a serious
business, and they soon found that no allow-
ance was granted to idleness, inattention, or
impatience.

In such a school as this, children learn fast.
Every day leaves its mark. Parents found it
out, and at the end of the first quarter, five new
scholars were offered, two of whom were elder
brothers of a child already there. One little
fellow had been two quarters at a district school,
and yet had not learned to read. The first
pages of his spelling-book had been so thumbed
and so worn by his chin and elbows, that .the

letters were almost illegible. By a little spe-
i
102 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



cial attention, Carl carried him through the
book in a few months. His father, who was a
fisherman, and who had no learning himself,
was so much gratified that he sent the teacher
a bushel of oysters as a token of his regard.
Though Carl smiled at the donation, he re-
ceived it in good part, and was glad of the
means thus afforded for increasing the good
cheer at the Doctor’s cottage. But he was
rather more pleased when James Donald, the
smallest boy of all, son of a Scotch gardener,
came to him one Monday morning, with two
pots of mignionette and a number of hyacinth
bulbs. |

“J have one more than a baker’s dozen,”
said Carl, to his friend, Mrs. Smith, one win-
ter evening, as they sat over a bright hick-
ory fire.

“JT wish it was a hundred, for your sake,”
said Mary.

“Oh! not a hundred, my love,” exclaimed
the Doctor. ‘That would be almost a col-
UARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 103

lege, and our young president would have to
employ professors.”

“Very well,” said she, gayly. ‘Stranger
things have happened; and I don’t despair
of seeing our little Carl a learned professor
yet.”


104 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT

CHAPTER IX.

GLIMPSE OF A CHRISTIAN HOME IN A STRANGE LArD

Goop friends are among God’s most precious
gifts to youth; and there are few places where
a Christian can be cast, in which such may not
be found. ‘True religion is a power which
draws together and holds united those who
would otherwise be strangers. As we go on
in the pilgrimage of this world, we have more
and. more reason to admire the unexpected .
ways in which Providence brings us acquainted
with those who have done us the most good.
Often the meeting is without any endeavour of
our own, and yet the results are momentous.
Some such thoughts as these passed through
the mind of our young schoolmaster, on the
evening which followed his introduction to
Mr. Mill.

The Rev. Frederick Mill was the pastor of
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 105



the little church which Carl Adler attended;
for you may be sure he did not allow himself
to lack the blessed advantages of public wor-
ship. As a stranger, he had taken an humble
seat in the gallery, until the rich tones of his
voice drew the attention of the clergyman,
who, indeed, had too few persons gifted in this
way. His eye often turned on Carl, whom he
found always intent on what was said, or de-
voutly joining in the acts of worship. As
good ministers of Christ are used to do, Mr.
Mill took an early occasion to learn the name
of this punctual attendant, and at length de-
tained him at the close of the service, and
drew from him some particulars of his history.
The interview was not without tears; for Carl
found that Mr. Mill had been in Europe, and
had even visited his native region. From this,
it was an easy transition to visit at the par-
sonage, which was on a hill-side, about three
miles from the school. The times which he
chose for these visits were at the close of the
week’s work, and, when he became better
706 . CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



known, he was often invited to remain until
Monday morning. The Smiths did not fail
to rally him in regard to this, and to repeat
the name of Matilda Mill in a sly, good-hu-
moured way; but Carl maintained, with a
pensive earnestness, that for him the charm of
the house was in the excellent pastor.

Spring Hill, the residence of this pious and
accomplished family, was named from a bold
fountain which broke out from the side of a
little mount, among rocks and vines, and dash-
ed away over the banks to join a rivulet which
coursed through the meadows below. The house
was old but spacious, commanding a view of
neighbouring bays and islands, with interven-
ing fields and groves. The walls were over-
grown with vines ; and honeysuckles and sweet-
briers clambered about the windows. Within,
every thing bespoke competency, ease and com-
fort, rather than display or novelty. The
chief room was the library, which was sur-
rounded with valuable books, on which the eye
of Carl rested with admiration and almost envy.
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. ° 107



But that which most affected him was the
religious atmosphere of the place. He had
been in Christian families before, but never in
one like this. The father, the mother, the
only daughter, Maria, and the three little boys,
nay, the very domestics, seemed to be under
the power of a religious training. The Scrip-
tures, without any violence or any affectation,
were evidently the rule of the house, as they _
were the topic of daily but natural remark. Mu-
tual improvement and gentle affection breathed
over all the little society, and all their words
and acts. Doubtless there was much of human
imperfection and sin, but it was in a great de-
gree hidden from the partial eyes of Carl.

The first Saturday evening which he spent
at Spring Hill was long remembered by him.
They combined to rid the diffident stranger of
those feelings of restraint which he could not,
all at once, shake off. As they sat on the
broad portico, which overlooked a grassy hill-
side, the younger ones gambolled over the vel-
vet turf, in sight of the placid father. The
108 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



mother and daughter were seated together,
turning over the pages of a large book of plates,
which Mr. Mill had just brought from the aty.
At a well-known signal, all the company re-
paired to the table, where the best of rural cheer
was spread before them. The meal was not
hasty, as meals are apt to be where the family
gathering is only for the purpose of satisfying
the cravings of nature. There was much de-
lightful conversation, and Carl found that such
avunion at the domestic board may be made a
class for high instruction. More than one
choice passage from the poets was called for
and repeated; more than one hard question
was answered, and many religious precepts
were inculcated from the word of God. By
easy methods, all were reminded of the ap-
proaching day of holy rest; and questions were
asked, to make sure that the week’s business
had been fairly closed up.

The few hours which followed, before retir-
ing for the night, convinced Carl that he had
never before known what was meant by the
CARL, THE YOUNG £MIGRANT. 109



union of intelligence and piety in a family
circle. He had seen one, and he had seen the
other, but here they were beth together. Was
‘it books? It looked to him as if a fortune
had been expended on the costly volumes
around the apartments, though in this he made
the blunder of inexperience. The talk was
natural, diversified, and playful, yet it was on
the very subjects which Carl had hardly ever
heard talked of. But above all was he de-
lighted with the prominence given to the things

of God. When the hour for evening-worship |
came, (and it was early, so as to suit the young
ones,) Mr. Mill, as master and father, opened
the word of God, and read that noble psalm,
the 138th, which he followed by a few remarks.
Then how passing sweet was the evening-hymn,
in which the music was led by Miss Mill, while
every child and servant joined, except a gray-
haired African, who was past the age of sing- |
ing. “Solemn, united prayer closed the short
service. Carl could not but say to himself, as,

with moistened eyes, he rose from his knees,—
10 |
110 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



When, soon or late, you reach that coast,
O’er life’s rough ocean driven,

May you rejoice, no wanderer lost,
A family in heaven!”

When the affectionate salutations of the
evening had been exchanged, Mr. Mill beck-
oned to his young visiter to take a seat beside
him on the sofa.

‘‘Mr,. Adler,” said he, “I am older than
you, and I have, like you, been a schoolmaster. ”

“Ts it possible!” said Carl, with animation.
“Then, sir, you are the very person whom I
need, for I have a thousand things on which
to get your advice.”

“All that I can give shall be yours, my
young friend. Ihave observed your interest
in divine things; and allow me to say, I per-
ceive you in a capacity for better acquisitions ;
(here Carl’s clear complexion became suddenly
crimson ;) so that I feel peculiar interest in
trying to put you on the right path. But,
first, tell me, do you mean to make teaching
your profession for life?”
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 11k



Here Carl explained to Mr. Mill the events
which led him to engage in this little enter
prise; adding that his views had undergone
some change, and that he found such an unex-
pected pleasure in teaching boys, that he was

half inclined to look on it as a regular business. ~

“Tam not sorry to hear you say so. We
want such teachers in America; I mean such
as are willing to spend their lives in the work.
Most of our schoolmasters spend only two or
three years in the work. Some of them are
seeking means to enter college ; some employ
themselves thus during the very time they are
in college, in long vacations. More commonly
they are persons who have taken their first
degree, and are intending to be physicians,
ministers, or lawyers. From this course great
evils arise to the character of our education.”

“Thad not thought of any ill consequences,”
said Carl; “though I have certainly observed
the fact.”’

“The evils are these,’”’ said Mr. Mill; “and
I speak with some knowledge, for I have been
Tr? CARL, THE YOUNY. P*0G>4 7.



such a teacher myself. The young man so

employed is only half-hearted in the work.

He may be conscientious and punctual, but he
» has no enthusiasm.”’

“Ah! I see,” said Carl; “nothing can be
well done without some fire.”

“True, and there is seldom any ardour in
such a case. It is not the business of life.
The man looks one way and rows another. His
eye is on the bar or the pulpit, and to this he
directs his wishes and his efforts. Then there
is no attainment of experience. Teaching is an
art, and one of the noblest and most difficult. It
is not to be acquired in a year, or two years.
Thus it often happens that, just at the moment
the teacher begins to feel his strength, recover
from his mishaps, and mature his methods, he
breaks off from the work, and transfers the
pupils to another.”’

“« And so, perhaps, a school may be for
years together under the hand of novices.”’

“Exactly. Indeed this is the case with a
majority of our country schools.”
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 113



* But how, sir, is this evil to be remedied ?”

“Just as you have remedied it in Prussia;
where the profession of teaching is as distinct
and as honourable as most others.” -

“But allow me to ask yet further, why is
it that young men even of promise and learn-
ing are unwilling to stay at their post and
teach@§s long as they live ?”

‘You are coming to the very point,” an-
swered Mr. Mill. ‘The reasons are many,
but they resolve themselves into one compre-
hensive reason. The work of instruction is
not high enough in the esteem of the American
people.”

“Ah! I thought no _— made so much
of education.”’

“We have many lings many pupils, and
many zealous writings and speeches about the
subject; but what I say is still true. The
very word schoolmaster is used by many with
asneer. The cry is for cheap teaching. Pa-
rents, of whom you would hope better things,
grudge the pittance they bestow on the teacher,

10* ‘
i eS

oe ee

eee —

114 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



and almost think it an alms. I have farmers

in my parish, who lay out more on a breed of

swine, or a threshing machine, than all they

have ever given for their children’s schooling

put together. Hialf-starved imstructors lose
the stimulus of hope and grow weary.”

Carl smiled, but said nothing.

‘‘T honour the instructor of my cldren,”
continued the pastor, ‘“‘as much as the doctor
who cures my body, or the lawyer who attends
to my estate. But this is not the common
feeling ; and the lower down you go in the scale
of intelligence and culture, the more you find
people undervaluing the schoolmaster. But,
my dear fellow, the night is wearing away,
and I must show you to your chamber. May
the blessed morning find you refreshed for its
sacred work !”’
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 115

CHAPTER X. .

REMINISCENCES OF GERMAN CHILDHOOD.

From our English forefathers, we have de-
rived~the custom of making the breakfast a
cheerful and leisurely meal. There is some-
thing delightful in the assemblage of a whole
family at a bountiful repast; and such repasts
are common in our favoured and fertile coun-
try. The morning prayer and praise have.
ascended to heaven, and, if there is grace in
the heart, the rays of holy contentment and
mutua} affection are reflected from every face.
On the day of joy, the resurrection-day, the
first and best day of the week, such gatherings
take place in ten thousand Christian families
of America; and thus it was at the Spring
Hill parsonage.

‘As I mean you shall return to spend the
day with us,’’ said Mr, Mill to Carl, “I shall
116 CARL, THE YOUNS EMIGRANT.



mount you upon Nero, the riding-horse of
my son Fred, who is at college. But we
must ne on the alert, for oa -school opens
at nine.’

A long, light wagon, with two horses, car-
ried the family, with the exception of the ser-
vants, who walked, and Mr. Mill, who accom-
panied Carl on horseback. The church was
four miles off, and, according to a well-esta-
blished custom, they did not return between
services, but took with them a frugal collation.

After the usual services, and such greetings
as are common between a good minister and
his family with many of the people, they all
returned to the parsonage. And here the
evening hours were spent in a manner quite
new to Carl. After early tea, the whole
household assembled in the large sitting-room.
Even the servants were there, as soon as they
had supped, and, what is unusual, they re-
tained their seats after evening prayers.

“TJ love,” said Mr. Mill, “to see my family
around me; and on no day do I love it more
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 117



than on the Sabbath. Why should not our
domestics come in for a portion of the chil-
dren’s bread ?”

Books were distiibuted, and an hour was
spent in singing hyzans, interspersed with occa-
sional comments, and an occasional anecdote.
Even Mrs. Mill, though a meek and retiring
invalid, made bold to relate an incident of her
youth, concerning her grandfather, an officer
of the Revolution, and a pious man. Encour-
aged by such beginnings, Carl found his mouth
opened, and, after a little embarassment, and in
reply to severalinterrogatories, proceeded to
give a narrative, which may be thus abridged:

“You must not expect much of a story, my
good friends; I am hardly more than a boy °
yet, though sometimes, when I think how many
places I have lived in, and how many people I
have seen, I am ready to think myself quite
old. When you were all engaged just now in
repeating the catechism of your church, it car-
ried me back to Bingen on the Rhine.”

“Oh! did you use to say the catechism -
118 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



there®’’ asked Tom, a bright child of eleven,
who had already found his way to Carl’s knee.

‘Yes, but not the same that you know. It
was Dr. Luther’s catechism, which has beep
used these three hundred years and more.”

‘“‘Tt contains the same precious doctrine,”
said Mr. Mill; ‘but go on.”

‘“We were brought up in the old German
way, which, I am sorry to say, has gone very
much out of fashion. As the custom of the
country is to have commonly but one church-
service, we had Sunday afternoon and evening
much to ourselves. Many people used to
spend it in sauntering and worse, but we were
generally taken to the house of my dear
mother’s father. My grandfather was wealthier
and more learned than any of my kindred.
He lived in an ancient stone house, among the
vineyards. It had been in the family no one
knows how many hundred years, and had carv-
ings on the gables and ends of the oaken
beams, which none of us could understand.
The windows were narrow, some of them being
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 119



like slits cut in the thick walls. Musty old
volumes stood in the heavy shelves, mostly in
vellum, and some of them were fastened with
clasps of brass, which we youngsters often
tried in vain to undo.

“‘My grandfather dressed in antique style ;
indeed, he seemed to pride himself on old cus-
toms. At certain feasts, such as Easter and
Michaelmas, he took great pains to have cer-
tain flowers stuck up, which bloomed about
those times of the year. At the winter holi-
days he always secured a Christmas-tree, which
reached to the very beams of the vaulted hall,
and was laden on every branch with trinkets,
toys, confectionery, and tapers. It has made
a deep impression on my memory. The good
old gentleman carried a grave face to most
people, and was thought to be cross; but I
believe this was more from his gout than any
thing else. To us he was always as gentle as
could be; and we longed for Sunday to come
round, that we might dine at grandpapa’s, and
120 . CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



look at the pictures in the old books. Of
these he had a great store, and I remember,
as if it were yesterday, how he would sit in
his great carved arm-chair, in what he callea
his book-closet, which was a small room cut off
from his office. Placing me by his side, he
would open one after another of those ponder-
ous volumes, and descant upon the cuts, which
were from designs of Albert Durer and Hans
Holbein. One of these books I now possess.
It was printed at Nuremburg, in the year 1608.
But this was by no means the oldest of them.
In these things he took the more pleasure, be-
cause he was himself an author, and had pub-
lished a work on heraldry, in which he used to
show me the painted coats of arms, with many
strange pictures of lions rampant, griffins, and
the like. But most of all he loved to show me
the pictures of the Reformers and the Mar-
tyrs. ‘There, grandson,’ he would say, ‘thou
seest (in Germany it is always thee and thou
to children) Dr. Martin Luther at the Diet of
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 121



Worms; and there thou seest him on his
death-bed. Print it on thy soul, child; rather
die a thousand deaths than give up the faith
of thy fathers. Presently I shall be gone, and
who knows what changes may happen? Thy
poor father, the judge, has no knack at keep-
ing the gold-pieces together. Perhaps thou
mayest wander over sea. Well,. God will
guide ; but mind this: go where thou mayest,
contend for the faith once delivered to the
saints!’ I never look on the volume, or the
portrait of Luther, without calling the scene
and the words to my memory.”

“I hope,” said Mr..Mill, “that they will
bring forth fruit in you as long as you live. I
dare say you could sing us one of the fine old
hymns of Germany.”

“With pleasure,” said Carl. “But our
hymns are not heard to advantage when sung
by a single voice. The slow and stately an-
cient tunes require the full organ and the great
congregation. But I will do my best with a

hymn of Paul Gerhardt’s.”
“tq 11
122 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.

Carl then sang the closing stanzas of the
famous Advent Hymn, Wie soll ich dich emp-
fangen, which may be thus imitated in Eng-
lish :

Why should you be detained
In trouble day and night,

As though he must be gained
By arm of human might?

He comes, he comes, all willing,
All full of grace and love,

Those woes and troubles stilling
Well known to him above.

Nor need ye tremble over
The guilt that gives distress:
No! Jesus all will cover
With grace and righteousness.
He comes, he comes, procuring
The peace of sin forgiven,
To all God’s sons securing
Their part and lot in heaven.

Why heed ye then the crying
Of crafty foemen nigh ?

Your Lord shall send them flying
In twinkling of an eye.
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 12%



He comes, he comes, for ever
A King, and earth’s fell band
Shall prove, in the endeavour,
Too feeble to withstand.

All the company were gratified with the
graceful performance of Carl, who sang with
more than common ability, and who took the
precaution to furnish an English version of the
words before he began. He explained to them
the methods taken in Germany to train the whole
population in sacred music; and promised to
show them a sixpenny pamphlet, one of many
issued for youth, like tracts, with all the com-
mon tunes used in the churches.* It contains
sixty-three tunes in one part, and twenty in
three parts.

“You have made a fine beginning in your
school,”’ said Mr. Mill; “and my good friend,
Mrs. Grayson, is so much pleased with what she
heard on Saturday evening, on the bank, that

* Choralbuch zum Gebrauche in Schulen und fiir Con-
firmanden. Offenbach. pp. 12. 8vo. (Scharfenberg &
Luis, New York.)
124 CARIy THE YOUNG EMIGRAXT



she .3 going to lend you her piano-forte, to
accompany the hymns and songs.”

“Bravo!” cried Tom, who was almost ready
to beg that he might become a pupil at the
little octagon school-house. But his father re-
pressed this little burst, by calling for a vo-
lume, which soon engaged the attention of all
present. It was the Life of Luther, by the
Rev. Dr. Sears, himself a zealous admirer of
the mighty German, and a labourer in the
cause of education. The hour soon arrived
for the departure of the younger children to
bed ; after which, a few words of religious con-
versation closed the day, and each retired to
the private exercises of his own chamber.
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 125

CHAPTER XI.

PROMOTION AND SURPRISES.

Car did not leave the friendly mansion
of Mr. Mill without a suspicion that some
plan was on foot for his benefit. The ques-
tions had been too close and searching to
have preceeded from simple curiosity. Some
plan must be on foot for his benefit. Why
did the pastor inquire so particularly as to
his residence at the Oaks? Why did he take
down the name of Dr. Newman and Mr. Barry?
Why did he inquire for the residence of each
boy in the school? Carl was therefore less
surprised at receiving a note from Mr. Mill,
inviting him to accompany him, during the ap-
proaching fortnight of vacation, in a jaunt up
the North River. To relieve him from all
anxiety about expenses, this excellent gentle-

man asked, as a favour, that Carl would act as
11*
126 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



his amanuensis, in recording certain matters
which he was collecting towards a volume in
the press. It was both benevolent and deli-
cate in Mr. Mill, and it went to Carl’s heart
more than a munificent gift could have done,
if unaccompanied by such considerate regard
for his feelings.

The boys were dismissed for the brief holi-
days, the poor little quarter-bills were paid,
except in the case of one stingy, dishonest
guardian, who was willing to cheat the school-
master: and this man was the richest among
them all. Ona beautiful August morning, the
travellers rose long before day, in order to be
‘n time for the Albany boat, at the foot of
Cortlandt street.

It may be safely said-that there is no river
scenery in America, which, in all respects,
equals that of the Hudson. Single traits of
beauty or grandeur may indeed be found as
striking on other streams, but nowhere else is
the combination so rich and varied. Our young
traveller admired the breadth and depth and
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 12°



clearness of the river; the massy foliage of the
woods and verdure of the cornfields; the in-
comparable panorama of mountains, some blue
in the distance, like the Catskills, and some
boldly reaching to the water’s edge, as in the
Highlands; the multitude of vessels which
they passed or met, and the endless succession
of towns and country-seats along the banks.
On arriving at Albany, Mr. Mill procured a
aight conveyance, and spent some days in ex-
cursions among the towns and villages, on both
sides of the river, above and below the capital.
At the fine little city of Hudson, they dis-
missed their hired carriage and servant, and
employed the public conveyances to carry
them over the mountains, into Massachusetts.
It was Carl’s first sight of New England, and
he was not slow to catch the beauties, both
natural and artificial, of Berkshire county. At
one time, he was struck with the picturesque
scenery of the mountains and valleys, and wild
pellucid streams; at another, he was charmed
with the advancement visible in agriculture,
128 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



the neatness of enclosures, and the quiet snug-
ness of the farm-houses; at another, he stood
in admiration at the fresh and shining villages,
which seemed to have sprung up in a night, so
unlike were they to the hoary, irregular piles
of European cities; and at every turn, he was
impressed with the appearance of the people,
who, almost without exception, bore the marks
of education and morality.

After a short sojourn in Boston, Hartford
and New Haven, they found themselves at
home, much refreshed by exercise and change
of air, and welcomed by a circle of affectionate
friends. At leaving the steamboat which car-
ried them from New York, they found all the
Smiths and all the Mills, on the wharf. Here
Carl had the pleasure of being made acquaint-
ed with Frederick Mill the younger, who had
returned from college, a young man of genius
and fine appearance, but of exuberant spirits,
and not exempt from some of those infelicities of
manner which grow up in college-life. But he
was both kind and courteous to Carl, whom he
CARI, THE YOJNG EMIGRANT. 129



looked upon with the more respect on account
of lis French and German knowledge, which,
among the young gentlemen of our colleges, is
more prized than formerly. The talk was
soon about Goethe, Schiller and Jean Paul;
and Carl might have paid back some of the
laughter spent on his early attempts at Eng-
lish, by amusing himself at Frederick’s pro-
nunciation of German.

Arrived at Spring Hill, the travellers took
their favourite seats among the shrubbery, in
sight of the dashing spring. Then it was that
Mr. Mill beckoned Carl into his study. What
was his astonishment to meet there his first
warm American friend!

“Mr. Barry!” cried he; “can it be possi-
ble? And how came you here?”

“By coach and steamboat, Adler,’ said
Barry, smiling.

“Oh, yes, of course; but what has brought
you into these parts? and to Spring Hill ?”’

“Why, my dear fellow, do you'think nobody
186 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



has a right to holidays and jaunts but your-
self? But how nobly you have grown !”

A hundred topics were broached, and ques-
tion followed question, till all obvious matters
concerning their school-days at the Oaks had
been exhausted. During this interview, Mr.
Mill had left them alone. But at length he
entered, and, with a grave and affectionate air,
took Carl by the hand, and said :

‘My dear Mr. Adler, I will no longer keep
you in suspense. All our recent movements,
however mysterious, have been tending to-
wards a result which I hope will prove agree-
able to you. Your good friends, Doctor and
Mrs. Smith, are in the secret; and last, but
not least, we have introduced Mr. Barry. But
there is still another party in the affair, whom
you do not know’ —

“ Teave that to me,” said Barry ; and throw-
ing open the door which separated them from
the parlour, he said, “I must have the plea-
sure of presenting you to Mrs. Barry.”

Carl saw a graceful lady rising to meet him,
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 13;



without at first discerning her features: great
was his amazement to recognise in her, after a
moment, Helen Newman, the daughter of his
late preceptor.

“It is surprise upon surprise,” exclaimed
Carl, quite bewildered with these inexplicable
proceedings. ‘I scarcely know where to be-
gin, or what to inquire !”’

“ Let the truth come out at once, then,’ said
Mr. Mill. “The plan is really my wife’s,
though with my hearty concurrence. You are
no longer to be principal of the octagon school,
Mr. Adler. We have secured a promotion for
you. The new academy, near our church, has
been several months in preparation. An ad-
joining house is very suitable for the reception
of boarders. The company of gentlemen who
set up the school have fixed on Mr. Barry
and yourself as teachers. We shall give you
a week or two of preparation ; and the acade-
my will open on the first day of October.
Now the secret is fully out.”

Let us cast a veil over the ingenuous confu-
132 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



sion and grateful surprise of Carl, upon receiv-
ing this shower of news. He was so over:
whelmed that he did not even urge his inquiries
about the beautiful building and the friendly
arrangements. He was even absent in mind
during a part of the evening, and often retired
to the large bow-window, as if to conceal his
emotions. When, at length, his considerate
host conducted him to the retirement of his
chamber, he closed the door, and cast himself
on his’ knees before God. Tears streamed
from his eyes, and more by groans and sobs
than articulate words, he poured out his thanks-
givings toward that heavenly Father, who had
been his helper in a strange land, and had
made his cup to overflow with unexpected
blessings. Blessed religion of the gospel!
which cherishes even in the young those sacred
and generous emotions, such as were altogether
wanting in the greatest heroes of antiquity.
This youthful emigrant felt the enlargement
of soul produced by the belief that the God
of his fathers was making him his special care,
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 133



and that he who had guided Jacob, and deti-

vered David, and glorified Josiah, would be his ~

God aiso, even unto death.

As Carl turned over the pages of his dear
mother’s Bible, it was long before he could
tear himself. away, to throw himself on the
bed for the night. The sacred volume seemed
as if had been made for just such a case as his.
Among them were such as these : .

‘And Jacob vowed a vow, saying, If God will
be with me, and will keep me in this way that I
go, and will give me bread to eat, and raiment
to put on, so that I come again to my father’s
house in peace; then shall Jehovah be my
God: and this stone, which I have set: for a
pillar, shall be God’s house: and of all that
thou shalt give me, I will surely give the tenth
unto thee.’’*

“The blessings of thy father have prevailed
above the blessings of my progenitors unto the
utmost bound of the everlasting hills; they

ee





Gen. xxviii. 20-22.
12
St CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



shall be on the head of Joseph, and on the
crown of the head of him that was separate
from his brethren.’’*

“Who am I, O Lord God? and what is my
house, that thou hast brought me hitherto? And
this was yet a small thing in thy sight, O
Lord God; but thou hast spoken also of thy
servant’s house for a great while to come.
And is this the manner of man, O Lord
God?’ t |

“ What shall I render unto the Lord for all
his benefits toward me? I will take the cup
of salvation and call upon the name of the Lord.
I will pay my vows unto the Lord now in the
presence of all his people.’’t

“ Q Lord, I know that the way of man is not
sn himself: it is not in man that walketh to
direct his steps.’’§

“Let your conversation be without covetous-
ness; and be content with such thisigeas ye have:



Ce ee TT en ee

~ * Gen. xix. 26, +2 Sam. vii. 18.
t Ps. exvi. 12-14. 3 Jer x. 23.
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 138



for he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor
forsake thee.’’*

The last verse was designated in the well
worn volume, by a distinct line drawn under
it, in red ink—as Carl doubted not, by the be-
loved hand which was now in the grave. Deeps
ly did he revolve in his mind those sacred.
words of promise, IcH WILL DICH NICHT VER-
LASSEN NOCH VERSAUMEN. He called to mind
also the observation which Dr. Newman had
made, and which he found in his interleaved
Greek Testament, that the original is much
more expressive, having five negatives, which
could be represented in English only by some
such language as this: ‘‘I will never, never
leave thee, and never, never, never forsake
thee!”

Led thus from one thought to ssiotbil, Carl
remembered his hymn-book, and closed the
evening with singing those familiar ines, which

a se Oe

* Heh: xiii. 5.
136 CARL, THE YOUNG »MIGRANT.

he had first learned from the voice of Maria
Mill:

In every condition, in sickness, in health,
In poverty’s vale, or abounding in wealth,
At home and abroad, on the land, on the sea,

As thy days shall demand, so thy succour shall be

The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose,
I. will not, I cannot desert to his foes;
That soul, though all hell should endeavour to shake,

V’ll never, no never, no NEVER forsake!


CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 137

CHAPTER XII.

SHADOWS IN THE PICTURE.

As a mariner is seldom favoured with fair
winds and summer weather during the whole
of his voyage, so the servant of God, in pass-
ing over the ocean of life, must expect to en-
counter some adversities. The teaching of
Scripture is very plain on this subject. “Whom
the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth
every son whom he receiveth.” The ways of
chastening are various, but all are visited with
some admonitions, and those are blessed who
turn them to good account. Afflictions in
early life are thought by experienced believers
to have a happy influence in forming the cha-
racter. So the Scriptures seem also to te; hs
“Tt is good for a man that he bear the yoke in
his youth. He sitteth alone and keepeth silence,

because he hath borne it upon him. He put-
12*
135 CaRL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



teth his mouth in the dust, if so be there may
be hope.’’*

The cup of Carl Adler seemed to be running
over the brim, and now that all-wise Governor
of human affairs, who doth not afflict willingly,
but chastens for profit, and to make men par-
takers of his holiness, saw fit to add some bitter
drops. Carl had been tried with one class of af-
flictions ; he was now to experience another. He
had been left an orphan; he had become an exile ;
he had been subjected to annoyance and scorn ;
he had been pinched by want, and he had been
cut short i in his career of education: the time was
come when he must be laid on a bed of illness.

Having left Spring Hill in fine spirits, he ac-
companied Dr. Smith and Mary to their sweet
cottage, and sat himself down at his fragrant
window. ‘The dahlias, in the garden, stood in
a gorgeous show, and the grapes hung in
heavy clusters over the arbour. Myriads of
bees hummed in the trees, and summer-birds _

—_—-—





* Lam. iii. 27-29.
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 139



sailed in circles around the elms. Carl was
placid, but not altogether at ease. An un-
usual languor weighed on his limbs ; and while
all was warm around hin, he felt himself shiver-
ing with cold. His strength and appetite for-
‘sook him, and when the evening meal was an-
nounced, Dr. Smith found him stretched upon
his bed, flushed, and full of pain. His disease
soon proved 4o be a violent fever. It was a
kind providence that he was in the house of an
intelligent and conscientious physician, who
was at the same time his good friend, and that
he was consigned to such nursing as that of
Mary Smith. He needed these attentions, for
the malady which assaulted him was violent
and obstinate. For a week he may be said to
have taken no nourishment, and his strength
and flesh declined under the violence of the
fever. At times, he was scarcely in his right
mind, and during the intervals of comparative
relief, he was restiff, harassed, and unfit for
settled thought. One lesson he learned in
this room, which is of great importance, name-
140 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



ly, that a sick-bed is no place to make prepa-
ration for the eternal world. The pain, un-
easiness and languor of disease absorb the
thoughts and deaden the sensibilities. The
patient finds it next to impossible to turn his
mind to any thing but what concerns his own
case. If he has neglected religion until this
time, it is not unlikely that he yields no addi-
tional attention to its claims. his was made
singularly manifest to Carl, as he tossed in
burning heats on his couch. The things of
God and of eternity came much before his
mind; but when he tried to think fixedly,
fancies and images and dreamy musings would
come between, and spoil his devotions. It
was often the most he could do to hear a single
verse of the Bible from the sweet voice of
Mary Smith, or to join in a prayer of two sen-
tences, offered by Mr. Mill. Neither he nor
they could tell whether he should recover. At
one time, when his delirium was great, the
case looked dark even to the sanguine physi-

cian. For one whole night, he insisted om


CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 141



talking in German; the case is not uncommon
in diseases of this kind. If not prevented, he
would have sung German songs, which he had
heard in the nursery, and repeated lessons
which he had learned at school. But at length,
the prospect began to clear away. The Doctor
was able to pronounce him free from fever,
and now every means must be ‘employed to
raise up the wan and haggard youth from the
infantile imbecility of frame in which the dis-
ease had left him prostrate.

The steps of recovery from a fever are not
interesting, and they are familiar. It is best
to hasten on to the time when Carl was go far
re-instated as to make a short excursion for
change of air. This had the expected result,
and he came home with all the indescribable
glow and exultation of restored health. Then
it was that he felt how good God had been to
him, in making all his bed in his sickness, and
sparing a life that seemed to him so unprofit-
able. He could read with new emotions the’
116th Psalm, and sing with understanding
142 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.

those verses of the German hymn, which be-
gins :

Tis sweet to me that God, my help,
So faithful stands by me.*

And he chose this as the most fit occasion
for surrendering himself to God, in a complete
and unreserved dedication; especially as this
deliverance concurred with so remarkable an
interposition in behalf of his temporal support.

The Ashdell Academy had been opened a
few days before Carl’s return, under the direc-
tion of Mr. Barry, who was named principal.
Besides other assistants, he was to have the
aid of Carl, who ‘was able to teach seve-
ral branches of mathematics, and to render
service in regard to German, French, and
music. The school was to be visited at least
once a week by Mr. Mill, who acted as its
rector and chief patron. Every Monday morn-

ing, in particular, he engaged to be present, to



* Das ist mir lieb, dass Gott, mein Hort,
So treulich bei mir steht.

NT
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 143



give religious instruction. The edifice, having
been built for the purpose, was admirably
suited to the wants of the institution. The
school-rooms were spacious and numerous, so
that there was no necessity for ‘crowding.
They were well lighted, and, what is quite as
important, well ventilated. No one cause ope-
rates so disastrously on the health of teacher
and scholars as corrupt air. In schools innu-
merable the atmosphere is perpetually foul, if it
may not rather be called pestilential. This par-
ticular had been well cared for by Mr. Mill and
Dr. Smith; and in this they had the hearty con-
currence of Mr. Barry, who had had experience
of the ill consequences of a few hogsheads of
air breathed over and over. He told them the
story of the Black Hole of Calcutta, and de-
clared that, in many school-rooms, the greatest
favour one could do, would be to knock out
two or three panes of glass.

I will not deny that Carl felt a glow of some
kind, when he first saw the printed “ Circular
und Prospectus of the Ashdell Academy.” It
144 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



was concise and modest, but it contained, in
very conspicuous capitals, the name of Mr,
Carl Adier, Assistant, and Instructor in the
French and German Languages. There are
moments when trifles like this weigh as much
in the scale as legacies, or prizes in lotteries.
Carl had the comfort of reflecting that this
honourable advancement, which was certainly
considerable in the case of a youth, had been
unsought by him; and he was earnestly desi-
rous to make it contribute to the good of his
fellow-creatures. And what situation is there
in life, I desire to ask, in which this hope may
be more reasonably entertained, than that of an
instructor of youth ?

Every one of Carl’s scholars at the octagon
was present as a pupil at the opening of the
academy. This had been matter of special
arrangement by Mr. Mill. But these nine
had now increased to thirty-five! As they
sat at their separate desks, on the cast-iron —
rotary seats, which had then just come into
use, they appeared to Carl like a lit*’ _
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 145



af which he was in some sort the commander.
And he wrote to his elder sister, Charlotte, a
letter, of which the following 1s an extract:
‘You must not think me exalted, dear Lotte ;
my illness has done something to prevent this ;
but still more, I trust, am I kept humble by a
sense of my daily and hourly shortcomings.
Yet there is something not unlike elation,
when I find myself admitted to such trusts.
More than thirty boys are partly under my
control. Some of them are advanced scholars,
even in branches whith I have not studied ;
but my task is well defined. The higher Greek
and Latin classics are taught by Barry, and
the whole domestic charge falls to his share.
Oh! I wish you knew him! He is just such
a man as you could not but admire and love: so
self-forgetting, so many-sided in his tastes, so
noble, so fervid. If I ever think the Ameri-
cans cold, it is not when I am with Barry.
From him it was that I first caught the idea
of what it was to be a teacher. I had thought

it, dull, mechanical, and even irksome. He
13
146 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



made me see it to be a noble art—more noble
than our darling music—more noble than paint-
ing, sculpture, and architecture. These work
with dead materials, but the hand of the teacher
moulds the plastic soul. The noblest cultiva-
tion of fields and gardens rears only vegetable
life; but the teacher watchesy#he development
of a life which is spiritual and immortal.
“Often, dearest Lotte, have I unbosomed
myself to you about the church. You know I
have sometimes thought seriously of being a
minister of the gospel“unworthy as I am—
and, indeed, I sometimes think of it still. But
is not this also a kind of ministry? May I
not serve our blessed Redeemer, even if I pass

my life in feeding his lambs? Thus I regard

it. I would not learn to regard it otherwise.
Some people, here, think religion ought to be
kept out of schools! Do not laugh at the
suggestion. They even attempt to put it into
practice. Is it not like opening an hospital
without medicine? or sowing fields with every
thing except grain? You may be sure neither
*
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 147

Barry nor I would come into any such schools
as these. The principal thing which a child
needs to learn, and that which he must learn
now or never, shall always have a chief place
in all instructions of mine. But, hold! I catch
myself talking large, and remember that I am
only an ushergand not a president, (as Mary
Smith prophesies I shall be;) yet am I ever
and ever your loving, loving brother,
** CARL.”


B45 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGNONT.

CHAPTER XIII.

SCHOOL-CHAT IN PLAY-HOURS.

‘*CoME, come, oh, fellows! come!” cried a
little, piping, shrill voice, from the great field
back of the church-yard; “come, and see the
kite that Bill Sunbury has got up! I’m sure
it’s a mile high !”

‘Not quite,” said Cafl; “and besides this.
you have forgotten the rule, Charles. No boy
is to make any acquaintances out of the school ;
and Bill Sunbury is a youth whom we cannot
admit on our premises till he amends his bad
language.”’

‘Mother thinks you tie us up rather tight,
Mr. Adler,” said Charles.

“‘ Wait a little, my fine fellow,” said» Carl,
drawing the curly-headed child to his side;
‘wait a little, and you will see how wise and
now kind the regulation is. Sit by me here, a
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 149



few minutes, till I finish this sketch of the old
churcn. See, I am just at the steeple, and
presently I shall dash off that clambering
ivy.
‘Don’t you think I could learn to draw and
paint, Mr. Adler ?”’
“Certainly, Charles; that is, if you have

9?

eyes, hands, and a good deal of patience.”

Charles laughed, and said, “I believe I
have as many hands and eyes as other folks,
but I am a little afraid about the patience.”

‘Wait a little, them; it is one of the things
we shall try to teach you.”

‘What, sir! teach patience ?”

“Why not? Is it not a good thing ?”

“Oh, yes, sir, it is a very good thing. I
wish I had more of it; but who ever ney of
teaching it! You must be quizzing me.’

“No, indeed,”’ said Carl; “I am in earnest.
These ie )
gramme of studies; but why did your parents
send you here ?”’

are not set down in our pro-

* To learn reading, and writing, and arith-
, 13*

}
1
~~
150 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRAN'.



metic, and geography, and Latin and French;
not to learn patience, and such like.”’

“Tf you inquire of your dear mother, you
will find that she desires and intends more
for you than what you have said. For, suppose
you should go home to Brooklyn, two years —
hence, full of Greek and Latin, but cursing, ©
swearing, and drinking’ —

‘Qh! dreadful, sir!” said the little boy,
interrupting his teacher, who had by this time |
folded his port-folio, and taken the child on
his knee. ‘That would be wretchedness. My
mother would not have me learn such things
for the world. But what can you mean, sir ?”’

“TI mean, Charles, that if you would avoid
learning such evil things, you must not put
yourself under evil teachers.”

"Charles. Teachers, sir! I never heard of




a school for teaching those things you men-
tioned! What teachers are i

to teach drunkenness and lying and swearing ?

y I wonder,

Adler. Too many, too many. Suppose 1
should let you and your brother Edward go


CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 151



every night, or whenever you chose, to the
tavern at the ferry.

Charles. I should be afraid to go. Mr.
Barry says, those who go there learn to drink
rum.

Adler. True enough; and many other bad
things, such as playing cards, talking wicked-
ly, and taking God’s holy name in vain. But
suppose I should allow you and Edward to
play every day with a person who curses hor-
ribly—

Charles. Then I suppose we should be in
danger of learning to do the like.

Adler. Would not such a person then be
your teacher ?

Charles. Yes, sir. .

Adler. And would not he be a teacher of
wickedness ?

Charles. Isee,I see! You have been mean-
ing Bill Sdiibury all along!

Adler. Yes, to tell you truly, I have meant
Bill Sunbury. He is a profane and wicked
lad, and I feel it my duty to warn you against
152 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



him. But this is not enough. Don’t you
know that you and Edward are nothing but
little inexperienced boys, and that you are not
old enough nor wise enough to choose your
own companions ?

Charles. (Putting his arm around Carl's
shoulder.) Yes, I dare say it is so; and I am
willing to do what you advise me; and I will
not complain of the rules any more.

Adler. Now you speak like a noble-hearted
boy. Love your parents and teachers ; trust
in them; submit to their regulations, even
when you do not see all the reasons. After
a while, you will thank them for the very things
which seemed strict to you before.

Charles. But you have not yet explained to
me about patience, and how any one can learn
to be patient.

Adler. Iam glad you keep it in mind, for
I am coming to that in a roundabout way.
Patience, my Charlie, is a great thing in all
jearning. ‘To learn to draw, you must be pa-
tient. To learn to write, you must be patient.

e
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 158



To learn geography, you must be patient. To
be a great man, or a good man, you must be
patient

Chavtes. Yes, I know, I know—but how to
learn it—how to learn to be patient ?

Adler. Just see how little patience you
have! You must wait a little, to learn; for
patience is only a kind of waiting. And you
are taking a lesson in it now, if you did but
know it. Patience is learned by practising
patience. How did you learn to swim? By
trying to swim. How did you learn to play
ball? By trying to play. How did you
learn to cut a figure of 6 on the ice? By
trying and trying again. Tell me, then, how
you are to learn patience ?

Charles. By trying to be patient.

Adler. Very well. You are an apt scholar,
Charles. Now, observe, half the things we give
you to do are helping you to learn this very thing.

Charles. How so, sir? Does getting my
Latin verb teach me patience ? Stop—you
needn’t answer. I seeit myself. For I grow
154 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



very tired of my verbs sometimes ; and then
John Grose says, “With patience and perge-
verance, one may open an oyster with a roll-
ing-pin.” So I turn to my book again, and at
last I know my verb.

Adler. Very good, indeed: though John’s
comical proverb is new to me, it, is true. All
your hard tasks, which seem so tedious, are
‘ helping you to govern yourself. If you live
to be a-man, you will find the use of this.
Impatient people can never do much good in
the world. But some day, you will be able to
say to yourself, “ Oh, how glad I am that Mr.
Barry kept me closely at work! It taught
me not only what was set down in the books,
but it taught me to keep long at the same
thing without getting tired; to repeat the same
task a hundred times, if needful; to sum up
the same figures, and keep my thoughts in the
same channel. Ittaught me patience.” Come,
now, and I will give you a lesson in drawing. —

Charles. Thank you, sir; I will try to be
patient. }
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 158



The conversation reported above is a very
humble specimen of what is daily occurring be-
tween every faithful teacher and his pupils.
There are, indeed, instructors who feel the
toil of teaching to be such a burden that, in
hours of release, they try to forget there is
such a thing as a school. Not so the zealous
and successful educator, Every moment he is
the teacher. It is his honour and his delight.
He loves to feel the pliable mass under his be-
neficent touch, all the day long; and it is not
wonderful if he dreams of it by night. In addi-
tion to this specimen of dialogue with one of the
youngest, the following may serve as an example
of talk out of school, with one of the oldest
scholars.

The scene is laid in Heron’s Bay, and the
persons are Carl Adler, Gregory Beale, and
two fishermen who manage the boat. The
time is Saturday evening, and the waters are
reddened with the blush of the western skies.
The ‘parties are wearied with pulling the oar
all the afternoon, and have turned the Head
‘

156 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



of their boat towards the point where the

Churck rises above



graceful spire of
the trees, as a conspicuous landmark.

First Fisherman. Yes, yes, Mr. Adler, you
speak English as well as German ; but here
am I, twenty years out of Hamburg, and yet
everybody notices the burr on my tongue.

Second Fisherman. Fritz, you talk plainer

- now than when you used to take the bottle

with you in the boat. I wondered, sometimes,
whether the black-fish understood German, for
we didn’t take half as many as we do in these
temperance days.

Adler. Let us forget past faults. Our old
friend Fritz has repented of his evil ways. I
will sing a hymn which he remembers.

Carl then poured out, in his clear manly
voice, the Seaman’s Evening Hymn:

Thanks be to thee, Almighty God,

Whose arm has been our guard, &c.*



onesies seen et



* Dank sey dir, O du starker Gott,
Dess Schutz uns heut umfangen.

See Knapp’s Liederschatz, No. 3101.
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 157
FA

The two men listened with admiration, and
the old German occasionally added his voice to
the familiar tune, though he could not always
hit the words; but he understood and felt
them, and frequently put up his red sleeve to
wipe the falling drops.

Hirst Fisherman. Thank you, sir! It brings
all the old days back fresh upon me. But do
tell me, Master Adler, have you got the whole
hymn-book by heart ?

Adler. No, no, my good fellow, far from it;
but I remember a good many hymns and songs
which were taught me by my grandfather and
my sainted mother. And I have to thank
them for many little snatches of knowledge,
which will stick to me wherever I wander.
Luther’s little prayer, at the end of the cate-
chism, is as familiar to me as my alphabet.
You remember it, Fritz ?

Fritz. Yes, indeed, and say it over every
night.

Gregory. I think, Mr. Adler, the German

14
158 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



boys must commit more to memory than we
in America.

Adler. I have sometimes thought so, myself.
My cousins, who were older than I, were full
of verses out of Virgil and Horace, as well as
hundreds of stanzas from our own poets.

Gregory. Mr. Poole, who teaches the Poly-
mathic Inductive High School, makes a boast
that no scholar ever commits a single sentence
to memory, verbatim.

Adler. What! not the rules in grammar?

Gregory. Not one.

Adler. Nor the paradigms ?

Gregory. Not one.

Adler. Nor the multiplication table?

Gregory. Ah! that and the A B C, we all
happened to know before we went to the High
School at Basedow Hill. |

Adler. Do the boys learn no passages from
Il Penseroso, the Seasons, the Task, or other
- poems ? .

Gregory. None, I assure you. Mr. Poole
lectures on all these things; but he says the
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 158



other way is obsolete; that it turns the boys
into parrots, and that the grand object is to
understand, and not to remember.

Adler. He would be a better philosopher if
his maxim was, ‘to understand AND to remem-

9?

ber.”’ Our Creator has given us memory as well
as understanding, and we are to cultivate both.

Gregory. Mr. Poole says that boys, who
learn other people’s words, get nothing but
words; and that they fill their heads with
what they do not understand.

Adler. It is true of some. Just as it is
true that some people have gilt frames without
any pictures in them; but why not have both?

Gregory. I think I know boys who have
only the frames.

Adler. But the frames may contain pictures.
And if you have both frames and pictures,
your frames help to keep your pictures. So,
if you retain the very words, they help to keep
the thoughts.

Gregory. What use is there in remember-
ing the very words?
160 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



Adler. It is not always desirable, but some-
times it is highly so. In the first place, if you
change the words, you generally change the
thoughts. Thus you may recall to your mind
something quite different from what you have
learned.

Gregory. I have observed this in the texts
of the propositions in Euclid.

Adler. This makes it very desirable that in
elementary matters, and in rules, and in forms,
the very words should be remembered. Se-
condly: there are cases in which the value of a
passage depends on the very words. This is
true of all poetry and all eloquence. What
were the lines you repeated in your declama-
tion this morning ?

Gregory. They were from Denham :—

‘‘ Oh, could I flow like thee, and make thy stream
My great example, as it is my theme!
Though deep yet clear, though gentle yet not dull,

Strong without rage, without o’erflowing full.”

Adler. Now please to give me the substance
of these verses, as one might remember tuem,
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 161



who had caught their general meaning, without
the words.

Gregory. Oh, sir! it would be folly for me
to attempt it!

Adler. Then you admit the value of memo-
ry as to poetic words. |

Gregory. Certainly. You could not change
a single word without losing a beauty.

Adler. It is equally true of a thousand
things, especially of Scripture. And it is im-
portant to practise this in childhood, because
that is the spring-tide of memory. It is a
faculty sooner developed than that of reason-
ing, and it sooner decays; therefore we should
seize its brief time of bloom for purposes of
education. As to abuses and excesses, here,
as everywhere, ‘Wisdom is profitable to di

rect.”

14*
162 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.

UHAPTER XIV.

RELIGION IN SCHOOL.

Ir religion is all-important to mankind, and
if it is most deeply impressed on the soul
in childhood and youth, then it ought unques-
tionably to form a part of every system of edu-
cation. Shall we teach our children all
worldly things, and never inculcate the princi-
ples which are necessary to save their souls?
Every reasonable Christian parent admits the
duty of teaching his children the words of life.
But teachers take the place of parents, in the
matter of education. In many thousands of
instances, at large schools, the pupils are ‘80
much separated from their parents that they
see them only for a few weeks in every year,
during a considerable portion of early life. It
would be a monstrous absurdity to hold that
such children ought to be left without religious
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 163



ix» ruction from their teachers. This is a
very simple statement of the question concern-
ing Christian education. None but an unwise —
or a wicked parent will place his beloved off-
spring, for several years together, in the hands
of those who have no fear of God before their
eyes, or who teach errors in religion, or who
omit the teaching of religion altogether.

Carl Adler had entered on the work of in-
struction with a humble and devout mind.
Often did he pray to God that he might be
guided and enabled to pursue the right path.
Though he was not a minister of the gospel, he
felt that, in a certain sense, precious immortal
souls were committed to his charge. The chil-
dren whom he taught might, with God’s bless-
ing on his labours, be kept from manifold vices,
and even led into the right ways of the Lord;
or they might, through his influence and ne-
glect, grow up to be little better than heathen.
These thoughts made him ask divine wisdom to
conduct him in the performance of his duty to
their souls.
164 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



An attempt has been made by Roman Catho-
lics and infidels to banish the Bible from the
eommon schools. If it should ever succeed,
the result is quite easily predicted. America
will become popish, or infidel. But the best
schools continue to give a high place to tlie
word of God: and this agrees with the views
of those who founded the Ashdell Academy.
It is Monday morning; a time when school-
boys are fresh and in good trim, with bright,
shining faces. Who does not remember the
healthful exhilaration of a Monday morning at
school?: The room itself is in uncommon order.
Teachers and pupils look happy. ‘The little
preliminary hum has ceased, for the good pas-
tor, Mr. Mill, is entering from a private door
behind the platform of desks. He takes his
place behind the principal desk, where the
teachers have made room for him. At this
hour of the week, Mr. Mill always visits the
school, opens its religious services, and gives
she first lesson of the week. It is a lesson in
Scripture, which the boys have learned on the
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 165



preceding day. It is always a time of quiet,
order, and pleasant looks. When Mr. Mill
nas large maps or plates to exhibit, he calls
Mr. Barry and Carl to his assistance. The
wall, back of the platform, is hardened like
slate, 1o serve the purposes of a black-board.
On this Barry draws outline maps of Palestine,
or the sea of Cinneroth; and Carl gives rapid
sketches of oriental antiquities. This, you
may be sure, enlivens the lesson, and makes
the hour one of the most delightful in all the
week.

There is a recess of half an hour, for con-
versation and amusement, every forenoon. On
Monday, it takes place after the Bible-lesson,
and, of course, the pastor has an opportunity
of being pregent. One day, they had been en-
gaged upon the 127th section of Robinson’s
Harmony, in which there is much about the
Mount of Olives.* The little lecture had
taken hold of the boys, as a good lecture



* Matt. xxiv. 1-14. Mark xiii. 1-18. Luke xxi. 5-19.
166 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



always does. The upper class had much of it
down in their note-books. Several clever boys
had taken rapid copies on their slates of the
outline sketch which Carl had drawn large on
the black surface. There was a good deal of
chat under the trees about olives and figs,
and the Mount and Bethany.

Christopher Longworth. (A pale, bat hand-
some lad, whose father is a painter.) My
father has been in the Holy Land.

Mr. Mill. That is good. When we know
people who have travelled in Palestine, it
makes the scenes of sacred history more real
to us. Perhaps you remember something that
he reported.

Christopher. Yes, sir. My father says he
saw old olive-trees at the spot which is thought
to be Gethsemane.

Mr. Mill. A sacred spot, my dear young
friends: though we must not regard those
places with the superstitious veneration of the
Papists and Orientals.

Carl. The modern garden of Gethsemane.
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT 167



as it is called, is of small extent, being, per-
haps, only a portion of what was there in old
times. The site, however, agrees very well
with all the accounts. I am told the trees are
supposed to be lineal descendants of the grove
which stood there 1800 years ago.

Christopher. My father brought me an olive-
branch, carefully pressed and dried, and a
folder, or paper-knife, made of wood from the
Mount of Olives.

Barry. You must bring them with you,
Christopher. We will not venerate them as
relics, but they are valuable as testimonials.

A little boy. Mr. Barry, may I speak?
There was a French gentleman at our board-
ing-house, at Newport, who said, at table, that
he did not believe the stories about Jesus and
the Apostles were true; or that there were ever
any such people as Christ and the Apostles.

Several boys. Oh! dreadful!

Mr. Mill. Yes, indeed; dreadful impiety,
and dreadful folly. French infidelity of this
sort used to be more in fashion than it is now.
168 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. —



Christopher. But there are infidels now—are
there not, sir?

Mr. Mill. Yes, there are; but the fashion
of infidelity changes. So foolish and ignorant
are the opposers of God’s truth, that they are
always confuted. But, as fast as one kind of
infidelity is answered, another kind is invented.
Volney had his day, and several after him;
but the New Testament still abides.
| Barry. Can any boy remember the figure
which alludes to this, in last week’s poetry-
lesson ?

George Mulligan. The rock beaten by the
waves. 7

Barry. Right. Who can apply it?

George Mulligan. The waves continually
come and break against the rock in the sea;
one wave comes and dashes, and is driven away,
and another and another follow; but the rock
is unhurt. I imagine the rock is Holy Scrip-
ture, and the angry waves are the different
sets of infidels.
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. — 169



Mr. Mill. Very well said. With Mr. Bar-
ry’s leave, I will give you this for a theme.

Barry. Willingly. Let the class in compo-
sition try their hands upon this subject for
Wednesday.

After some talk about verbenas, geraniums,
and the painting of sticks to support the
dahlias, as well as some inspection of butter-
flies emerging from their wintry coffins or
cradles, and some peeping through micro-
scopes, the school went in again, at the tinkle
of a bell, to hard work at Greek, Latin, and
mathematics.

Where the conductors of a school are truly
pious, they are every day making religious im-
pressions on the young, without any constraint ,
or violent effort. They cannot help doing so;
and the scholars imperceptibly, but surely, re-
ceive a large amount of religious knowledge.
This is very unlike the sour, hypocritical, or
sanctimonious method, which ungodly people
ascribe to evangelical schools. Religious truth,

interspersed among the common studies of
15
170 OARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



every day, is so far from making youth dull
. and unhappy, that it elevates and cheers them
as truly as it protects and purifies them. But
there are also more stated means, which pro-
mote the religious training of a school. A
few of these may be mentioned.

Secret devotion is too sacred and delicate a
matter to be managed by school regulations,
yet it is too important to be neglected. A
boy had better never go to any school than go
to one where he shall lose the habit of secret
devotion. Mr. Barry neglects no good oppor-
tunity of inculcating this duty in the short lec-
tures, of five minutes each, which he makes in
the prayer-room, at evening prayers. Then
he takes care that everybody shall have
time and place for suitable retirement, every
morning and every evening. Especially on
the Lord’s day, a larger portion of time 1s
afforded for these holy employments; and
there are times when many of the scholars
seem to be availing themselves of these oppor-
tunities.

j
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 171



Social devotion, of the whole school, includ-
ing teachers, ladies, scholars, servants and
visiters, is a daily observance. It “is very
short, but very delightful. The Scriptures
are always read; sacred music is added; and
prayer to God opens and closes the day.

The Lord’s day is wholly spent in a religious
manner, in public or private worship—in the
reading of good books—in Scriptural lessons—-
in Sunday-school services, (for some of the
older boys begin to teach)—in practising the
praise of God—and in serious, but pleasing,
conversation. Such Sabbaths are not weari-
some, but altogether a delight. The parlours
are thrown open at proper hours, and the boys
feel as if the family of their teacher is the
next thing to their own beloved homes.

Good books, from the well-chosen library,
contain proper reading not only for Sunday,
but for other days, when right-minded youth
feel the need of spiritual improvement. No
school-day ever passes without a short exercise
on something connected with divine truth,
172 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



which is additional to the Monday-morning in-
structions of the pastor.

Religious ‘conversation, such as a faithful
parent would have at his own fresidle, is at-
tempted in a natural, unobtrusive way, with
each scholar in private. Let me give one
example, out of a thousand.

John Marshall is a quick-witted little fellow,
from Newark, and a hopeful scholar, but rather
too full of curiosity. One day, Carl Adler
found him seated on the rustic bridge, under
the shade of the willows, very busy over a
large volume, which contained plates. As his
teacher approached, John turned red, and
hastily seated himself upon the book. With
much gentleness, Carl took the volume, and
perceived that it was not a proper work for so
young a child.

“John,” said he, “there are persons for
whom this _— is very useful, but it is not the
book for you.”’

John. 1 did not know it was a bad book, sir.

Adler. It is not a bad book in proper hands,
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 173



yet it may be bad for you. A razor is not a
bad tool, in proper hands, yet you would not
give little Fan your father’s case of razors to
play with. This volume is excellent and neces-
sary for Dr. Smith, who, I suppose, left it
here, when he was visiting a patient ; but what
could lead you to pore over it ?

John. I hardly know, Mr. Adler. I sup-
pose—I suppose—it is that I am inquisitive;
it 18 curiosity.

Adler. I believe you, John; you have made
w frank answer. It was curiosity—vain curi-
osity—a source of many errors and many vices.
(Here the tears came into John’s eyes.) Do
not go away, my little friend. I am glad of
the occasion to put you on your guard. You
are young, and without experience. You do >
not know Satan’s devices. Now, let me give
you a lesson for life, here in this pleasant
shade, where nobody is near us.

John. Indeed, indeed, sir, I did not know I
Was about any thihg wrong; I only thought I

should like to know—
15*
174 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



Adler. Yes; but there are many things
which you should not like to know. There are
many things which you had better know ten
years hence. And there are some things
which you and I had better not know at all.
Fix it in your mind, John, that vain curiosity,
or inquisitiveness about things which do not
concern us, is the door at which- Satan enters.

John. Please to explain, sir.

Adler. Axe there not some things which
your father and mother never mention to you
at all?

John. Oh! yes, sir.

Adler. Yet these things are in some books.

John. Yes, sir.

Adler. And these things are talked about
in your hearing ?

John. Yes, sir.

Adler. And you listen with eagerness ?

John. I believe it is so.

Adler. Then understand me. ‘The less you
listen to such things, the better. The less you
ask about them, the better. The less you
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 175

read about them, the better. Always talk,
read, and think, as if your dear mother and
sisters knew all that employs you, or rather as
in the presence of One who reads your thoughts.
And now go and read how Satan gained an
advantage over the vain curiosity of our mother

‘Eve.


176 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.

CHAPTER XV.

POETRY AND SCHOOLS.

SHENSTONE’S picture of the country school-.
mistress has fewer and fewer resemblances in
America. Some of my readers will remember
that pair of old ladies, Miss Sally Martin and
Miss Phebe Davis, who taught in the village
of my boyhood, and whose scholars fill the
pulpit, the, army and the senate. They pur-
sued their good work till they were old.

Her cap, far whiter than the driven snow,

Emblem right meet of decency does yield ;

Her apron dyed in grain, as blue, I trow,

As is the harebell that adorns the field ;

And in her hand, for sceptre, she does wield

Tway birchen sprays; with anxious fear entwined,
With dark distrust and sad repentance filled ;

Ani steadfast hate, and sharp affliction joined,
And fury uncontrolled, and chastisement unkind.

But the modern school-teacher is a lighter,
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 177



gayer personage, and is almost always young.
Mary Brewer may be taken as the type of
such; and now, as Mrs. Smith, she still re-
tained a fondness for her former tasks, and
loved to renew the old associations, by sur-
rounding herself with little folks. It was for
this reason that she gave the strawberry-feast,
on the 10th of June. And it was for this rea-
son that she invited all the Academy teachers,
as well as Dr. Newman, who,was there on a
visit. Carl, of course, was there; and in a
retired part of the lawn sat a grave, but arch
personage, surveying the scene with gray,
twinkling eyes, who was none other than King
Donald, He could not refrain from asking
leave to visit Mrs. Barry, or “the young
mistress,’ as he named her, and the Doctor
could not find it in his heart to refuse him.
Let us leave the boys at their gambols on the
broad, grassy lawn, behind the cottage, while
we listen to the talk of the elder group, under
the vines. They have books on the garden-
table, and seem to be turning up pages which
172 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



apply to the matters under discussion. This
is not seldom the case, even in rural interviews,
with bookish people. Dr. Newman, especially,
was a great quoter of poetry, both Latin and
English, and knew how to hit the nail on the
head with an apt citation.

Mrs. Smith. Some of Gray’s verse I never
could enjoy ; but how often have I looked upon
such a group as that near us, and found my-
self repeating—

Gay hope is theirs, by fancy fed,
Less pleasing when possessed ;
The tear forgot as soon as shed,
The sunshine of the breast.
Theirs buxom health, of rosy hue,
Wild wit, invention ever new,
And lively cheer, of vigour born ;
The thoughtless day, the easy night,

The spirits pure, the slumbers light,
That fly the approach of morn.

Mrs. Barry. All good, Mary ; but how rear-
fully dark are the stanzas which follow. I
can scarcely read that famous ode without a
pang.
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 179

Dr. Newman. Have you ever observed how
fond our poets are of school scenes? It is so
from Chaucer down to Crabbe. |

Mrs. Barry. Everybody remembers Gold-
smith’s schoolmaster.

Barry. Yet no one ever wearies of it:

Yet he was kind, or, if severe in aught,

The love he bore to learning was in fault;

The village all declared how much he knew ;
"T'was certain he could write and cipher too ;
Lands he could measure, terms and tides presage,
And even the story ran that he could gauge;

In arguing, too, the parson owned his skill,
For ev’n though vanquished, he could argue still.

Mr. Mill. Stop there, Mr. Barry, for I am
ready to admit the description to be just.

Barry. Wait till we try our powers in an
argument, sir. Meanwhile, I beg leave, as
lately belonging to the class, to read, from this
volume, Lloyd’s account of a school-usher.
You will remember Lloyd as a friend of Cow-
per, at Westminster school.

Were I at once empowered to show,
My utmost vengeance on my foe,
180 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



To punish with extremest rigour,
I could inflict no penance bigger
Than, using him as learning’s tool,

To make him usher of a school.



- Yet still he’s on the road, you say,
Of learning.” Why, perhaps, he may,
But turns like horses in a mill,

Nor getting on, nor standing still;

For little way his learning reaches,

Who learns no more than what he teaches.

Dr. Newman. Too severe by half; and like
most highly-coloured pictures, untrue. The
last couplet is, however, good indeed, though
full of latent sarcasm.

Mrs. Barry. Father, you will surely not
forget Lloyd's friend, the gentle Cowper, and
his Zirocintum, which 1s all about education,
from beginning to end.

Dr. Newman. Hush, hush, my dear! Don't
you see that our craft is ruined, if you cry UP
the Tirocinium? For what is it, but a defence
of private education ? :

Mrs. Barry. If it is, it nevertheless is full
of wholesome and delightful truths.
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 181



Dr. Newman. Let us admit it, Helen; as
we safely do, without yielding the advantages
of good public-schools.

Dr. Smith. Here are a nwaber of schools,
and school-folk, described to the life, in
Crabbe’s Borough and other tales.

Dr. Newman. Yes; an4, as in all his descrip-
tions, he has given pictures which have an ac-
curacy like that of the daguerreotype.

Carl. May I ask, sir, how it happens that
schools occupy so large a place in the poets?

Dr. Newman. We have only dipped inte
the poets yet, Adler; this is but a taste. In
regard to your question, however, many rea-
sons might be given. ‘The value and import-
ance, and universality of schools, is one.
Almost all educated persons, as poets gene-
rally are, went to school in their youth. The
recollections of school-boy days are among
the greenest spots in the retrospect of memo-
ry. Add to this, that hundreds of literary
men and women have been themselves instruc-

tors. This is remarkably the case in America
16
182 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



All whicn goes to dignify the occupation of the
teacher. ‘

Carl. Perhaps the seclusion and quiet of a
rural school-life tends to foster poetic musings.
Am I right, sir?

Dr. Newman. You are not without some
ground for your conjecture, my young friend.
But you probably reason from your own temper
and experience. Ah! is it so? You blush,
Adler. I must insist on your confession.

Mrs. Smith. I shall have to turn informer.
I have in my basket two morsels of German
poetry, by our young friend, written at his
school-desk.

Adler. And one of them, I am forced te
say, has been translated by Mary.

Dr. Smith. Mary is fairly caught; and as
some of us read no German, we must insist on |
her producing the English.

Mrs. Barry. 1 will spare Mary the confu-
sion of reading her own verses, which I find
here enclosed in the other papers: so. here
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 183



they are—we can have them before the straw-
berries are served:

Ye unseen powers that ever stand and wait
Upon the heav’nly Majesty, in love,

Say, do ye ever flag upon the wing,

And sink, like us, when ye should lightly move ?
Or doth the sacred power that, flowing in,
Guides all your impulses, so lift you high,
That ye are ever active, ever glad?

Ah! wo is me! I would be angel too;

But the flesh drags, and I am scarcely man!
Sink then I will, since I am slow to rise,
And bending, plunge me in my nothingness,
Content in humble thought that Christ is all.

After the reading of the verses, which were
pronounced respectable by the critics, King
Donald came forward with the information that
he was about to honour the anniversary of
Mary’s marriage with a specimen of strawber-
ries, which he had brought with great care
from the garden at the Oaks. These, being of
superior kinds, were added to the stores from
Dr. Smith’s little beds. A table, spread under
the eims, had a pastoral look, which became
184 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT



almost Arcadian, when heaps of the ruddy
fruit were seen to,alternate with pitchers of
cream. The conversation soon turned on the
case in hand, and learned opinions were ex-
pressed as to the comparative excellence of the
Dundee strawberry, (Donald’s pride,) the Black
Prince, to which Mrs. Smith gave the palm,
Hovey’s Seedling, a giant kind, and the several
Hautbois and Alpines. The boys were in rap-
tures, and their elders, if more quiet, were
scarcely less gratified. Christopher remem-
bered a Latin saying, and declared the day
should be “marked with a white stone.”


CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT 185

CHAPTER XVI.

ARRIVAL OF EMIGRANTS.

A LETTER was delivered to Carl, at the
breakfast table, from a foreign consul in New
York, which made it necessary for him to re-
pair at once to the city. A vessel from Ham-
burg had just come in, with several hundred
German emigrants, among whom was an old.
man, named Wolf, who had been a tenant of
his grandfather, and who was about to settle,
with a numerous family, in Missouri.

The arrival of an emigrant ship presents a
bustling scene of varied interest. The small
steamboat, which brought the passengers from
the Lower Bay, was crowded with men, women,
and children. Soon after they disembarked,
amidst hundreds of boxes, bags, and piles of
household furniture and kitchen utensils, greet-

ings and earnest conversations began on the
16*
186 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



wharf, and along the streets, and in the Ger-
man taverns near the North River, and even
in the carts which conveyed them to the ap-
pointed lodgings. - Carl almost imagined hin-
self in his fatherland. On every side he heard
the language of his country. Here were the
game dresses; the same hearty, sun-browned
faces; the women with uncovered heads; the
men with pipes and blouses. He felt at home
among the blue-eyed, yellow-haired children
of the Elbe and the Rhine. Some of the num-
ber soon became too merry, in the beer-houses
of Washington and Liberty streets, and jugs
of lager-bier circulated. with painful frequen-
cy: but most of the emigrants were sober and
discreet, and none more so than the circle
around the venerable Gottfried Wolf. Carl
directed the way of this worthy family to the
retired lodging-house recommended by the con-
sul. Here the conversation became, first live-
ly and then affecting, as name after name of
those most dear to him was mentioned, and as
letters, books, and cther tokens were produced.
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 187

Wolf gave an account of the embarkation, and
put into Carl’s hand a little poem of Freih
grath, sent to him by his sister, of which the

following is a translation:

I cannot leave the busy strand!
I gaze upon you, standing there,
And giving to the sailor’s hand

Your household furniture and ware:

Men, from their shoulders’ lifting down
Baskets of bread, with careful hand
Prepared from German corn, and brown
From the old hearth in Fatherland;

Black-forest maids, with sunburnt faces,
Slim forms, and neatly braided hair,

Come—each within the shallop places
Her jugs and pitchers all with care.

The pitchers, carried oft to fill
At the familiar village spring—
When by Missouri all is still,
Visions of home will round them cling:

The rustic well, with stones‘girt round,
The low stone-wall they bended o’er,

The hearth upon the family ground,
The mantelpiece, with all its store,—
138 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.

All will be dear, when, in the West,
These pitchers deck the lone log-hut, —
Or when reached down, that some brown guest

May quench his thirst and travel on.

Tired in the chase, the Cherokees
Will drink from them on hunting-ground ;
No more from glad grape-gleaning these
Shall come, with German vine-leaves crowned

Why, wanderers, must you leave your land?
The Neckar-vale has wine and corn;

Tall firs in our Black Forest stand ;
In Spessart sounds the Alper’s horn.

Mid foreign woods, you'll long in vain
For your paternal mountains green,
For Deutschland’s yellow fields of grain,
And hills of vines with purple sheen.

The vision of your olden time,
Of all you leave so far behind,
Like some old legendary rhyme,
Will rise in dreams and haunt your mind.

The boatman calls—depart in peace!
God keep you—man, and wife, and child !—
Joy dwell with you!—and fast inerease

Your rice and maize in yonder wild.
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 189



Carl smiled at the little slips of the poet,
about, Cherokees and rice on the Missouri; and
thought it would not be hard to write another
poem, of a corresponding character, on the
arrival of emigrants in America; but his mind
was turned to more immediate duties. As he
looked on the gray-haired father, the meekly
patient, but anxious mother, the three hardy
young men, whose appearance betokened reso-
lution and strength, and the younger ones of
the party, who were all daughters, he was moved
at the thought of the long journey yet before
them, and the unexpected trials through which
they might have to pass. Young as he was, he
found it to be his plain duty to become their
adviser. He put them on their guard against
the sharpers who lie in wait for foreigners,
and the infidel seducers who betray hundreds.
He besought them, from the beginning, to
reverence God and cling to the Christian
principles of their forefathers. He even
offered to go with them to church, where they
might join in their own service and sing their
190 , CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



own beloved hymns. And he advised them to
make no tarrying in the great city, but te
hasten towards their Western home, which
was to be in a beautiful section of the
State of Missouri. There, as he informed
them, they would find a large settlement of
German Protestants, and would have a wel-
come among their own people. He explained
to them the danger of giving themselves up
exclusively to labour and gain, and recom-
mended early and constant attention to the
worship of God and the education of the little
ones. And before he left them, he gave them
letters to Mr. Spalding, a pious and learned
schoolmaster in Missouri.

A day of much excitement was followed by
a delightful return, on board the little steam-
boat which leaves New York every few hours,
and lands its passengers. near Sunnyside.
The waves were calm, but speckled with craft
of all dimensions. As the sun went down over
Harlaem, gay boats, with parties of pleasure;
and sometimes with music, passed and repassed. |
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 191



The shores on either side were one mass of
green, broken only by hamlets, villas, and
mansions, such as every year more and more
adorn the edges of these rivers and bays. The
south-west wind breathed freshly over the
vessel, as if sent to cool the youthful brow,
not a little fevered by the warm emotions of a
long and busy day. The hour seeme] short,
therefore, when Carl began to find himself
Island,
and at length caught a glimpse of the octagon

among the boiling eddies near



school-house, where he entered’ on earnest life,
and the dark rocks and nodding groves behind
it. The school-wagon was in waiting for him,
and a rapid drive conveyed him to the academy.’
before it was entirely dark. But then he hasten-
ed to his solitary chamber, to tear open the
letters which Wolf had brought from Germany.

The first was from his elder sister, Charlotte,
and it enclosed another for little Ursula, who
was living with her uncle Schneckenburg, in
Baltimore. It told him of deaths and other
changes; and made him laugh and cry by
192 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.

—



turns, when it named one after another of hus
boyish comrades, and related anecdotes of
comical old friends still surviving at Bingen,
intermingled with allusions to sacred hours,
when the family circle was yet unbroken.
With all the gentle love of a faithful elder sis-
ter, Charlotte expressed her joy at his promo-
tion and prospects, and poured out wishes and
advices about Ursula. ‘“ We three,’’ said she,
“dearest Carl, are all that remain of that
once large happy household on the White
Hill. Let us be true to one another ; and, in
order to this, let us pray to be kept true to
our Lord! You cannot know how anxious I
was for you, and till I learned that you were
living a decidedly religious life. Now I am at
peace. I believe the prayers of our dear
parents are about to be answered for theif
children. Perhaps we may yet see you serv-
ing the Lord in his ministry. But, if not,
you are doing the next best thing, by caring
for his lambs.’’ ‘Then, in a hurried postscript
with many erasures, and many injunctions of
UARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 193



secresy, sne confides to her brother the intima-
tion, that her hand has been given by solemn
betrothal to a young civil engineer, named
Falck. And then, naming the marriage-day,
she added, ‘‘ After which, we expect to sail for
Boston, in the good ship Irene, hoping to
spend our days in America!”’ |

Is Carl dreaming, or is he out of his head?
He lays his forehead on the desk ; he paces the
floor; he stretches out his arms toward the
heavens; he kneels and weeps. These are
only the signs of a tumyltuous feeling, awaken-
ed by the sudden news of such a favour.
Surely,” cried he, “goodness and mercy
shall follow me all the days of my life !’’*

The gathering of friends, and reunion of
families, after years of separation, may be
ranked among the most affecting circumstances _
of that emigration which is now so common.
Not a vessel passes the ocean which does nct
carry some message or some person connected



* Ps, xxiii. 6.
17
194 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



with these touching scenes. Sometimes the
children precede, and, after a while, are fol-
lowed by their aged parents. Sometimes a
young husband comes over, explores and pre-
pares, and then returns, OF sends for his wife
and little ones. When the union is complete,
and a whole family meets in the new home, in
the rich wheat-lands of New York and Penn-
sylvania, or the prairies of the West, and the
hymn of praise goes up from the domestic
choir, amidst the indescribable beauties and
glories of nature, thesgup of Christian happi-
ness, for a little while at least, runs over the
brim; and hearts flow together and praise God
in a full, irrepressible torrent of thankful love.

{ My

fi | (|

=

Nit
Us

hk Ml


CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 195

CHAPTER XVII.

‘ DOCENDO DISCIMUS.

THE partnership of Barry and Adler, in
teaching, was productive of many agreeable
results. In all essential qualities 6f body and
mind they were alike ; good sense, good tem-
per, good manners, and good principles, they
had in common. But, still they differed, as
good people may differ; and it is likely the
difference was an advantage to both. Barry
was more inclined to out-of-door labour. He
was what is called a practical man. He had,
withal, a great hilarity and a sanguine tempera-
ment in regard to all his projects. He was:
kind-hearted, but not prone to undue pity.
There was very little fancy or sentimentality
in his character, and much more prose than
poetry. Carl was equally robust, and more
trained in gymnastic exercises, but his turh
196 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



was pensive and poetical. He often walked
alone, at sunset or in twilight, along the sound-
ing beach. Such poems as Beattie’s Minstrel
not only gained his attention, but expressed
his character.

Both were fond of teaching, but they suc-
ceeded in different ways. Carl had owed to
Barry some of his best thoughts about school-
management; but now he began to improve
upon them and strike out some paths for him-
self. Barry’s remarkable turn for natural
history led him to undertake extensive pedes-
trian tours; and he spent almost a whole sum-
mer in the swamps and pines of New Jersey,
and along the sea-shore, collecting the plants
of those rich localities. During this time, the |
government of the academy fell almost en-
tirely into Carl's hands. He always had,
indeed, his excellent friend, Mr. Mill, to fall
back upon, in case of any doubt or difficulty.

There is nothing which brings out a young
man’s powers more than responsibility ; and
there are few persons by whom this is more
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 197



painfully or more early felt than young school-
masters ‘This discipline makes men of them.
It is one of the reasons why teaching is so ex-
tensively the road to success and promotion.
Carl found this to be the case; he often paced
the floor in anxiety, when some new study was
to come on, or when some arrogant boy braved
‘his authority, or when some perverse parent
took the side of a rebellious child; but most
of all was he filled with anxiety when habits
of idleness or vice threatened any one of his
school. Yet all these things together made
him feel his accountability, and his need of
divine aid. From day to day, he had a sort
of modest feeling that he was getting stronger
and stronger. While it was far from his na- _
ture to put on any airs of command, or seek .
authority over his lads by looking big, Carl
perceived that they respected him, and gradu-
ally felt his strength. A hundred little expe-
riments in teaching, or government. which he
would once have shrunk from, he now felt free

to undertake. As his confidence and skill in-
17*
198 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



creased, he took the same lively and indescri-
bable interest in managing his boys, which a
dexterous driver has in controlling and guiding
spirited horses, four or six in hand. Or, to
use his own figure in his journal, “the same
pleasure which @ sculptor feels, as the statue
comes into shape and beauty under his chisel.”’

WE LEARN BY TEACHING, says 4 Latin
proverb.* Carl met with this remark in an
old writer: “I seem to myself to have no ac-
curate knowledge of a subject until I have
tried to teach somebody else.” There is
nothing which gives such exactness of know-
ledge as endeavouring to communicate it. “It
js,’ said Mr. Mill, “a benignant provision of
our adorable Creator, who thus, as it were,
puts a bounty upon what might otherwise be
a task and drudgery.” This was exemplified
‘n the lessons which Carl gave in his own lan-
guage. If there was one thing which he
thousht he knew above all things else, it was

0 gen 8 eee — —— = —— rr cre al

* Docendo discimus.
~

SARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 199



German; yet, when he came to teach a class
of the higher boys, he found that they put
questions to him which he could not ans~er.
Then he was driven to study them out. In
trying to give rules for particular cases, he
learned to express himself with clearness, pre-
cision, and brevity: it is one of the best results
of education. |

So it was in the lessons of his Bible-class in
the Sunday-school: Carl learned while he
taught, and instructed himself in more than he
gave his pupils. ‘Then he was led on to fur-
ther attainments. Ifa child’s question opened
a new path, he was not content to answer it;
he pursued the track into other unknown fields.
Thus was he led to draft an outline map of
Palestine, and to reduce to a table all the
kings of Israel and Judah. He wrote a little
memoir of the Apostle John, and borrowed
books of Mr. Mill, in order to learn what the
ancient writers add to the New Testament
history of the beloved disciple.

Teaching young men of promise stimulates
200 CARL, THE YOUNG £MIGRANT.



the teacher more than the scholar. Carl had
three boys who were at surveying. It was
easy to keep up with all that they required,
but he went further, and he did so with anima-
tion and delight. He made himself better ac-
quainted with logarithms and geometrical
problems. He gained a minute knowledge of
the theodolite and the sextant, and took the
boys out into the fields to survey with the
compass, constructing the figure in the field,
or registering the observations for subsequent
plans. He even peeped into the volumes of
Biot and Puissant. Carl was wide awake.
His motto was OnwarD! To be a useful
Christian teacher was the great wish and pur-
pose of his life ; and he exercised himself with
this in view, just as one who means to bea
great general exercises himself in military ex-
ercises. This made his labour light, and turned
work into play. Instead of groaning under
his daily burden, he made school-pursuits his
recreation and delight.

Carl and Ludwig were seated in the back
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 201

_——



piazza of the academy, trying to keep cool, on
a midsummer morning. The earth was covered
with its fullest green. The air was scented
with the Bermuda grape, and valerian, and
roses. Pinks and verbenas sparkled in the
borders. A colony of martins kept all in a
chatter about their mimic house. The two
young emigrants were talking over their plans ;
for Ludwig had now caught the prevailing en-
thusiasm to be a teacher.

“Continue, Mr. Adler, if you please,’’ said
Ludwig, ‘the account you were giving me of
young Sybel, out of the German volume which
Mademoiselle Ursula sent you.’’*

Carl went to his room for the volume, and
proceeded as follows.

eatin an

* Arnold August Sybel, zuletzt Diakonus zu Lucken-
walde. Von Dr. Friedrich Liebetrut. Berlin, 1841. 8vo.
pp. 409,
202 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.

CHAPTER XVIII.

SYBEL, THE GERMAN TEACHER.

“You must remember,” said Carl, “ that
Sybel died in 1838, at the age of thirty-four,
at Liickenwalde.”’

Ludwig. Did he not live once at Potsdam?

Carl. He did. He was connected with a
school there; but it was before he came out
fully and clearly as an evangelical believer.
And do you know, Ludwig, I think a man
must be crippled in his teaching, who is not a
true Christian ?

Ludwig. You have taught me to think so,
my dear friend; but how blind was I, when
you took me up! Though nominally a Catho-
lic, I had ceased to believe in the divinity of
our Lord! |

Carl. Neither did Sybel believe it, at first.
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 203



But let me recur to his boyhood. You know
how dreadful was the war of 1813, 1814, 1815.
Inudwig. Ah! my father was killed in it.

Carl. You know, the whole of our country-
men seemed to start from the long sleep of
every-day life, to a romantic interest, which
we can scarcely comprehend. This inspira-
tion was wonderfully breathed into the youth
of the country. Arnold Sybel, at ten years
of age, already longed to be a soldier, and
wrote patriotic verses. To understand what
follows, it is necessary to refer to the associa-
tions of the Turnleben, as it was called. These
institutions were intended to revive the spirit
of chivalry, in a fanciful connection with patri-
otism, manly vigour, and religion: a truly
German conception, which resulted in much
good and much evil. They stimulated the
youthful mind in an unexampled degree, rais-
ing it to a seriousness, ardour, and precocious
heroism, which had extraordinary fascinations.
At twelve years of age, Sybel began to visit
these earnest and awakening meetings, which
204 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



were spread over a large part of Germany
under the influence of Jahn, who was a type
of German enthusiasm. Here boys were train-
ed to sacrifice every thing on the altar of the
Fatherland; and, after serving in the army
against the invader, many of them returned to
the Turnplatz, to throw fresh warmth into the
circulation. It was a part of this beautiful
dream, to restore the national integrity, to
revive old German simplicity and valour, to
cherish a tender brotherhood, and to connect
all this with a sort of religion, which, however
latitudinarian in tenets, was full of passion.
The youth was introduced to a band of ardent
associates; to a series of the most athletic ex-
ercises; to self-denials of the severest sort,
and to songs and music which inflamed the
soul. No wonder that they were frequented
by multitudes, and that they absorbed all
juvenile sports in their vortex. All distinc-
tions of rank were levelled. They were met,
according to Jahn’s idea, to rescue and elevate
their dismembered and endangered country.
CARL, THE YIUNG.EMIGRANT. 205



It is impossible to comprehend the character
of Sybel, unless we remember that it was
formed in this unusual school. A Spartan
discipline was brought in, to cure the effemi-
nacy of luxurious ease, and this was accom-
panied by all possible appliances of poetry
and art. One trait of this schem» is peculiar.
It made war against the voluptuous curiosity
and heats of adolescence, and inculcated a
virginal chastity, in language, demeanour and
life. If it were seemly, we might give striking
proofs of the extent to which this prevailed.
Under the harangues of Jahn, and the Tyrtocan
songs of Koerner, Schenkendorf, and Arndt,
the youthful assemblies were borne up to an
extraordinary height of animation. It was
the call of God, as they said, that they should
save their country. Little armics of these
youth, under their leaders, with chorus and
music, traversed whole provinces and states on
their expeditions. The effect may be imagined,
which such stimulants would produce in a mind
susceptible as that of Sybel, when, at fifteen, he

18 :

~~
206 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



joined in such an expedition through Thurin-
gia and the Hartz, and when, at dawn, from
a mountain-top, he opened his eyes on the glo-
rious prospect, amidst the swell of hundreds
of voices, united in the morning-hymn. At
this period, Sybel is described as a boy of
lovely form and aspect. His complexion was
fair and ruddy, and his blonde hair flowed
gracefully over a high and ample forehead,
while a light blue eye spoke out the fresh and
jocund earnestness of his nature. The murder
of Kotzebue, by Sand, and the animadversion
of the government on Jahn, put an end to the
patriotic associations, and left Sybel to the or-
dinary influences of domestic and academic
life. He was already a poet, 4nd he was
rapidly advancing in his classical career. Be-
tween the age of seventeen and twenty, we
find him agitated with religious emotion,
though, as he afterwards found, this was more
the religion of poetical mysticism than of the
gospel. Yet it tended to form his peculiar
character ; and, though remote from what we
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 207



see at home, it is not uninteresting as a study.
His biographer admits that ‘‘ Christ was stili
in the background of the picture.” After
being confirmed and admitted to the commu-
nion, according to the Lutheran rite, the ar-
dent youth thus writes: ‘Brother, it is done!
The Lord has blessed me! With godly sor-
row and deep emotion, I have received the
blessing, and rendered to the Lord my vow.
By the grace of our Father, I received the
holy Supper, on Sunday, with reverent awe,
and espoused myself entirely to Jesus. My
dear friend, the church has now bound us to-
gether, and our tie has become stronger, holier,
and more significant.’”’ The hymns and other
sacred effusions of this period are numerous.
What follows gives a glimpse of his studies
and temper in 1821. ‘Yesterday, I had to
go to Schonfeld, to work with him at Virgil:
for this, I laid down my pen and tore myself
from you. How far he makes up for your ab-
sence, is more than I can express. What
above all attracts me, is his profound, noble
20% CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



feeling fur piety, love, and Fatherland. We
labour together almost every day, and provoke
one another to study and to virtue. I am now
content with my pursuits. Cicero's Orations
are not hard, and the style pleases me ; but
Virgil is not so much to my mind, as I read it
along with Homer ; otherwise I find it easy.
Homer is my favourite, as Siebenhaar expounds
him. This, and the religious lessons with
Spilleke, please me most. The Anabasis, on
the contrary, where speeches are to be trans-
lated, is more difficult than the Iliad. Spil-

leke and Siebenhaar are my dearest and most

honoured teachers. My love for them does:

not decrease; nay, every day, every hour, it
grows on me; and it is only in this class that
I have begun fairly to penetrate their interior
spirit.”

Ludwig. There is something in this letter

which may afford a lesson to young academics _

in America. |
Carl. In 1824 and 1825, Sybel was at the

University of Bonn; afterwards, for two years,

~
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 209



at Berlin. He then took charge of a female
seminary, at Charlottenburg, for one year ; at
the same time preparing for the ministry, and
for the rigid examination to which, you know,
teachers in Germany are subjected. He then
became an instructor in Berlin, where he re-
mained till the spring of 1831. It was the
period in which he became acquainted with
Bertha Kistenmacher, who was afterwards his
wife.

Ludwig. I have heard of the love of Sybel’s
pupils for him. It confirms your maxim, Love
begets -love.

Carl. Yes, a young man, who was long his
pupil at Berlin, says of him: “ The love of all
his pupils for him was touching. It was in-
creased by the walks which he took with us
every week. When he left us for Potsdam,
and was driving through the Kochstrasse, a
hundred scholars accompanied the carriage
with cheers, till at length he dismounted and
walked along with them.

Ludwig. This would. Jouk odd in America.
210 OARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT



Carl. But why should it? If we were as
full of heart in our teaching as was Arnold
Sybel, we should win the same affectionate
enthusiasm. Sybel lived and moved in school-
teaching and school-training, as his element.
It was a darling idea of his, to bring the
teachers of Germany into nearer fellowship,
as a profession. This was, perhaps, encou-
raged by his remembrances of the gymnastic
associations of the Turnleben. |

Ludwig. Did he still practise the exercises?

Carl. Let his own words answer: “I feel
the need of a public gymnasium, (Turnplatz,)
where I may, at any time, run and take bodily
exercise. I use one of my vacant hours, from
two to three, for this, as it is unsuited for
work; but, alas! I do it alone. Thus far,
they have been mostly running, especially up
hill. Now, I am adding motions of the arms.
I gather stones, and cast them right and left,
far into the air, or at a mark. To-day, I have
practised with some pretty large stones, upon
a somewhat steer hill. After such exertion, I
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 241



feel quite fresh and joyous.’”’ By the side of
his desk, where he spent so many hours of
study and prayer, he kept a pair of dumb-bells,
for strengthening the chest. In his walks, he
often carried in his pocket a cord, which he
would use among the forest-trees in swinging
and vaulting exercises.

Indwig. I love this lively temper!

Carl. It was equally manifest in his whole
career. He encouraged himself, amidst dis-
couragements, by Christian hopes—and no
men need such cheering more than teachers.
In one of his letters, he writes thus:

‘The schoolmaster must not be too intent on
gathering the fruit. The seed ripens slowly.
One waters, another harvests. Some may even
pull up the seed sown, unless it be well rooted.
And how much falls by the wayside! And,
how often might the very wayside have become
good soil, if the husbandman had only put in
his plough with strength, and begun at the
right place!”
212 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



Ludwig. It was good to be the pupil of se
earnest a preceptor.

Carl. He always worked with his boys
around him. In this, he resembled the great
Dr. Arnold, of Rugby. Before he sat down,
he allotted to each his employment, so as to
escape needless interruption. Yet, he was
always ready to assist. When the day’s work
was over, every thing must be put into its
place, for he was strictly observant of neat-
ness and order. Every week, there was an in-
spection of the desks and other repositories,
and every gross neglect incurred a trifling
fine, which went into the poor’s box. He was
constant in accompanying squads of the boys
sn rambles and visits to works of art. In this
way, it was a main object of his to cultivate
gentle affection between the youth.

Ludwig. Had Sybel any children of his
own?

Carl. He had; but they were left orphans
by his early death. As you might suppose,
he was a tender and a Christian parent. In
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 213



1833, he thus wrote concerning one of
them:

‘The dear babe is somewhat recovered. Qh,
what joy! Dear Albert, at this season I have
once more learned how great a weapon prayer
is. Iwas able to think with cheerfulness of
giving up my child. I should like to know
what you think of prayer. It is a point m
which, I think, we are much divided. For in-
stance, in this, that I pray to Christ, in which
you will acknowledge no difference. If s0, it
must be the same to you, and therefore you
must pray to Him. For my part, I talk with
him, as the disciples talked with him during
his bodily presence, and cast myself on his
promise, that he is with me, and hears me. I
pour out my heart to him, just as it is, with all
its joy, and all its grief.”

Ludwig. Oh, Mr. Adler, have you no more
letters of the same kind?

Carl. Here are numbers of them, in this
volume. Try this one:—“B.’s letter has done
me good. I agree with that faith of his, which
214 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



demands a formula, and only inquire whether
he will agree with me in my formula, which
says, with Luther’s Catechism: I believe that
Jesus Christ, very God, begotten of the Father
in eternity, and also very man, born of the
Virgin Mary, is my Lord, who has redeemed,
delivered, and won from all sin, death, and the
devil’s power, (now comes a capital point,) me,
a lost and condemned sinner; not with gold
and silver, but with his holy, dear blood, and
with his innocent sufferings and death, that I
should be his own, to live under him in his
kingdom, and to serve him in eternal righte-
ousness, innocence, and happiness; likewise
he has arisen from the dead, and lives and
reigns evermore. This is assuredly true.—So
speaks Luther; and I have written it here, as
fearing it might be unknown to B., as, within
a few years, it was unknown to me.”

Ludwig. And tome! But, let me hear a
word or two concerning his death.

Cart. In November, 1838, Sybel was seized
with what seemed to be the influenza. He
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 215



had been preaching a series of sermons, and
was preparing one on the kingly office of
Christ. Writing to his dear friend, the Rev.
Mr. Karbe, he says: ‘“ Above all, I have this
blessed experience, that I am his own, and
live as a subject in his kingdom. He is the
Vine, we the branches. How precious, to be
is branches!” Meanwhile, he looked to the
building of a parsonage, the planting of vines,
and the planning of a little garden. “I wish
yet,’ he writes to a Christian lady in Pots-
dam, “to plant three fruit-trees; an apple-
tree, which is to be named John, a pear-tree,
named Martin, and a heart-cherry-tree, named
Mary.” Soon after, he preached his last ser-
mon. Qn the 15th of November, he took to
his bed, which he occasionally exchanged for
the sofa. Though often disqualified, by the
violence of fever, from saying any thing as he
wished to do, he sometimes exclaimed, with
earnestness, ‘Oh, dear Lord, grant that, by
means of my suffering and death, some one
soul, at least, may be gained for thee and thy
216 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



kingdom!” Even after he was thought to be
sunk in delirium, he revived, and cried aloud,
“©The Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Lord,
will conquer: Jam already happy, 1 am
already happy! Hallelujah!” On recovering
his usual clearness of mind, he said, “O
Thou, who art my life! thou Prince of Peace;
thou, mine Immanuel, thou Rose of Sharon,
my Fairest One, thou brightness of glories 8
And, again: “I have fought a good fight, I
have kept the faith, I am saved !—This is my
death-bed; let me sleep a little, and then I
am ready to die.” To his children: ‘The
blessing of Abraham, the blessing of Isaac,
and the blessing of Jacob come upon you!”
Again and again he said to his beloved Bertha,
“Bear thy suffering like a Christian woman,
when I am dead: seek Jesus, and his help;
there is no help anywhere else.” He prayed
and sang as long as his strength held out.
Among his papers, one was found, requesting
that his funeral-sermon should be on the
words, “This is a faithful saying, and worthy
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 217



of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into
the world to save sinners, of whom I am
chief.”

Ludwig. You have given me the history of
so good a man, and so noble-hearted a teacher,
that I would gladly learn more of him.

Carl. Then you had better take the volume
with you. It was printed at Berlin, in 1841,
and is by the Rev. Dr. Liebetrut, an intimate
friend of Sybel.

Pt
218 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.

CHAPTER XIX.

SCHOO}. FESTIVITIES.

Manta Mrtt, the eldest daughter of the
clergyman, has scarcely oeen brought into this
narrative. Yet, if the vote had been taken
, among all the people in and about Ashdell, the
~—"e ‘woice of highest approval would probably have
been for Maria. Advantages of person were
joined with sound understanding, delicate
taste, and accomplished education; and these
were crowned by that which Solomon says is
the chief praise of the sex.* But so retiring
was she, that many, who saw her every day,
had no suspicion of her attainments or her
force of character; and some in her vicinity
were even unaware of her existence. During
the feeble and declining health of her father,

cease enlace ENN TERT

* Prov. xxxi. 30,
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 219



she was the manager of his domestic affairs,
and the guide and example of her little
brothers. It was her graceful hospitality and
intelligent conversation which formed the prin-
cipal charm of the Spring Hill parsonage.

The intimacy was very natural which sprang
up between Mrs. Smith, Mrs. Barry, and Miss
Mill. Unlike in many things, they were united
in the love of knowledge, and in true reli-
gion. Their plans were often concerted to-
gether, and this occurred in respect to the
Examination festivities, which were approach-
ing, and which it fell to Mrs. Barry to pro-
vide for.

Examinations are often hollow and unprofit-.
able. At Ashdell, it was determined to turn
them to account. Two ends were held in
view ; first, to give a fair account of what the
school had accomplished in the way of teach-
ing and learning; and, secondly, to afford a
grand entertainment to the boys and their
friends. A pleasant season of the year was
chosen. Preparations were elaborately made,
220 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



not only in the school, but out of it. The
ladies had to prepare accommodations and
refreshments for numerous guests, including
the parents of the pupils. It was a time of
high enjoyment; and the little exhibition of
Jeclamations and dialogues, on the evening
of the'closing day, was the grandest time of
all, when the boys were at the top of their
glee, in their best clothes and most shining
faces, while mothers and sisters were looking
on and listening with indescribable anxiety.
Maria Mill assumed, under Mrs. Barry, the
charge of the minor arrangements. It was
she who selected the music and drew up the pro-
grammes, and decorated the school-room with
green branches and flowers. It was ‘she who
gathered those stores of apples, pears, peaches,
apricots, nectarines, plums, and grapes and
melons, which loaded the table on the lawn;
and every visitor remembered the dainty rich
ness of the cream which she poured from her
liberal pitchers. These rural festivities, under
the shadow of lordly trees, and fanned by
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. zal



summer breezes, were, perhaps, as delightful
as a city-feast, or a dinner given to a member
of Congress.

Why should I describe the wonders of an
examination, and the delightful hopes of ap-
proaching holidays? Every one can recall
the loud conferences under trees, and > play-
grounds; the rehearsal of dialogues; the bil-
lets to friends, and the inquisitive scanning of
arrivals. Farmer Black, of Cherry Hill, was
the earliest visitor, in a newly-painted wagon,
with white canvas top: he brought two grand-
sons to school, and a copy of Henry’s Com-
mentary, for the library; also a well-trained
horse for the riding-classes. You would have
thought that Carl and Maria had been his
own children. Of course, he had his quarters
at the Doctor’s. The farmer had now become
a rich man, and had two sons married in New
York. Next came the Rev. Mr. Cole, no
longer a schoolmaster, but a professor in the
North-west—as awkward and honest as ever,

and full of admiration at seeing in Mr. Carl
19*
222 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



Adler the little German boy of former days,
He inquired of Maria Mill whether Carl was
married yet, which brought the colour into
that young lady’s countenance. Mrs. Gray-
son, the same old lady who had been attracted
by the singing of Carl and his boys on the
beachj#gave notice of her own approach by the
sending of a piano-forte, for the use of the
academy: her little boys were already mem-
bers of the school. Fred. Mill, now a dashing
young doctor, appeared in due time, with a bro-
ther physician fresh from Paris, in whom Carl
recognised Burnham, the head boy of former
days, who had so often taken his part at the
Oaks. That venerable establishment, be it
observed, was now given up, and the excellent
Dr. Newman, being infirm with years, and
having no other children, had come to reside
vith his beloved Helen, until further plans
should, perhaps, remove them all to New
York. The company was becoming large, but
the parsonage was ample. Mr. Barry's accom-
modations were adjusted to just such gather-
we

CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 228



ings, and Dr. Smith, considering himself one
of the group, insisted on having Drs. Mill and
Burnham at the cottage, as he said, to help in
taking care of Farmer Black ; who cried out, in
reply, that he had never been ill a day in
his life.

For some reason or other, the boysgrere in
uncommon good humour, and seemed to have
a secret among them, which was very much
hushed up. King Donald, however, wno had
accompanied Dr. Newman, and was now head
gardener, took part in their secret plans. On
the gravelled walk, near the spring, where a
thicket of shrubbery surmounts each side of
the craggy pass, (the boys called it Ther-
mopyle, though the spring was not warm, but
exceedingly cold,) great preparations were in
progress for a sort of triumphal arch. The
wind had blown it down twice, but Donald
cheered the boys, and even sang part of
Burns’s lines to the Mouse, whose nest was
turned up by his plough:
te

224 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



But, mousie, thou art no thy lane,*
_ In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes 0’ mice and men
Gang aft a-gley,t
And lea’e us nought but grief and pain
For promised joy.

It was finally, however, completed, with
beautifil wreaths of myrtle, and two fine ci-
phers of initials, which were carefully covered
from curious eyes. Carl, especially, was for-
bidden to approach that darkened avenue near
the cascade, and the small boys took a pecu-
liar arch satisfaction in barring out the master
from his own grounds. Christopher Long-
worth, the painter’s son, brought two large
canvas banners, executed in the manner usual
in scenes, so as to look well at a distance.
They were happily placed near the spring.
Of these, more hereafter. There was great
practising of a German glee; and Ludwig was
the leader of the orchestra. Charles and Kd-
ward Lowe, with John Marshall, being little

nce ii lence IA

* Not alone. + Awry, off the line.
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 225



boys, were drilled as pages, to scatter flowers
at the proper places, in a grand procession.
Gregory Beale brought a note from his uncle,
the great confectioner, offering a number of
pyramids of ice-cream, and the neighbouring
florists sent in baskets of bouquets. In all
this part of the preparations, it was observed
that Maria Mill took no part. She was busy
at times, about other matters, but was pensive,
and often solitary in her work, and sometimes
came weeping out of her mother’s chamber
of languishing.

The first day of examination passed off well.
“The neighbouring gentlemen and ladies, who
favoured the school, returned home at night,
but numbers remained to share the rural but
abundant hospitalities, and to attend a concert —
of sacred music, and hear an address from Dr.
Newman. When the second and closing day
of the solemnities was drawing to a close, and
the sun was near setting, a carriage drove up
to the gate. Four persons approached, two
gentlemen, a young lady and a little girl. The
226 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



quick eye of Carl detected in the lady his be-
loved sister Charlotte! She had just arrived
in the steamer Hermann. The embrace of a
brother and sister, so long separated, need not
be described. The foreign gentleman was
Captain Falck, Charlotte’s husband. The
youngest was Ursula. They were accompa-
nied by Mr. Schneckenburg.

Happy, happy meeting! at such an auspi-
cious moment. There are many such con-
junctures afforded by an all-loving Providence,
if we would but observe them. Every man,
woman and child at Ashdell seemed to sym-
pathize in the delight and gratitude of Carl.
After evening-worship, which was attended by
quite a congregation, the friends retired to a
shady arbour, asking and answering questions
of affection, and recounting the marvellous
loving-kindness of the Lord. Here Carl con-
fided to his dear friends a secret of his life,
which the reader has only guessed.

An hour was spent in listening to the speeches
of the boys, which were accompanied by music
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 927

ef their own. ‘The day closed with pleasing
anticipations of the morrow, when the boys
were to go home for the vacation. But there
was to be another event, which may properly
be made known in another chapter.


228 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.

CHAPTER XX.

CONCLUSION.

As this little work is far from being w lowe.
story, it might very properly end without a
marriage. Nothing has been said about Catl’s
courtship, but it is nevertheless true, that his
wedding-day has arrived, and he is about to
be married to Maria Mill. If intelliger ce,
education, and piety can fit a young lady to
be the ornament and blessing of a household,
Miss Mill was so fitted. It was universally
pleasing to all concerned, and to none more
so than to Charlotte and Ursula, who loved
Maria at first sight, and found it hard to keep
down some worldly pride, as they looked
around on the prospects of their once despond-
ent brother.

There was not a boy in the school, nor
servant in the establishment, who did not feel
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 229



a glow of pleasure at the happiness of Carl
Adler. They knew that he was soon to be
principal of the academy, as Mr. Barry: had
accepted a more prominent situation in New
York.

Confidence and affectionate respect are the
natural consequence and sure reward of dili-
gence, punctuality, and Christian love. A
gay procession of youth moved along the ser-
pentine walk, towards the spring; and at the
shady spot called Thermopyle, the festive
arch presented itself, with the initials of the
bridegroom and bride, in letters ingeniously
wreathed of evergreens and flowers. In a
rustic framework of the same were displayed
the two pictures, representing, one, Bingen on
the Rhine, and the other, the Oaks.

“ Ah, my young master,” said King Donald,
“did I not tell you, in the old garden, that the
day would come when you would feel as much
at home in America, as ever you did on the
Rhine ?”

_ Just then, Ludwig’s trained company of
20
. 230 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



musicians broke out in the strains of the
famous German song of Arndt’s, Was ist des
Deutschen Vaterland.

Their pronunciation was tolerable, and their
execution admirable. At the closing stanzas,
tears were in the eyes of all the Germans pre-
sent, and Charlotte and Ursula could scarcely
cease weeping for joy. The verses alluded to
may be thus imitated :

«s Where, therefore, lies the German land?
Name now at last that mighty land!
Where’er resounds the German tongue,
Where German hymns to God are sung,
There, gallant brother, take thy stand!
That is the German’s fatherland !”

«That is his land, the land of lands,

~ Where vows bind less than clasped hands,
Where valour lights the flashing eye,
Where love and truth in deep hearts lie,
And zeal enkindles freedom’s band,—
There is the German’s fatherland!”

«That is the German’s fatherland!
Great God! look down and bless that-land!
CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 231



And give her noble children souls

To cherish, while existence rolls,

And love with heart and aid with hand
Their universal fatherland !”

There was a solitary hour of twilight, in
which Carl looked abroad over the beautiful
expanse of land and water, from the green
knoll beyond the spring. A whole lifetime
seemed to press for admittance into his burst-
ing heart, and his soul went forth to God in
thankfulness and praise. The God of the
orphan and the stranger had been his God.
United to the believing daughter of a devoted
minister of Christ, he acknowledged the weight
of tender obligation. His memory recurred
to passagestin the life of Sybel, his model of
a Christian teacher, who was so ha
married life. Especially did he re ne




in the memoir which relates that, about a year
before Sybel’s call to the High School at Pots-
dam, he ascended the eminence of Brauhaus-
berg, and pointed out to his affianced Bertha
the beautiful country around, which was new

A
232 CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT.



to her. As they stood long in silent contem-
plation, Sybel said, “ Ah, my Bertha, if you
and I were ever to live in such a country, do
you think we could sustain so great a happl-
ness?” And before long, he was called to
that very place, carrying his bride thither in
the spring of the following year. As the party
entered Potsdam, the chime of the bells was
playing the familiar melody of the hymn,

‘¢ Praise the Lord, the King of glory,”

which had been sung at the time of their be-
trothing. Remembering these passages, Carl
adopted as a motto for himself and Maria, the
verse given to Sybel, on a like occasion, by his
early and constant friend, Professor Pischon :
“ Be thow faithful unto death, and I will give
thee a crown of life.’’*

Here the history of Carl Adler may pro-
perly end. Of his varied experience, in joy
and gorrow, and his increasing usefulness and
meee) eo SS ee

* Rev. ii. 10.
as «~

MEE ar

CARL, THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. 235



piety, this is not the place to speak. The reader
who has had patience to bear us company thus
far will have observed the serious lessons
which a simple and sometimes playful narrative
ig intended to convey. If a scholar, he will
have read some things to encourage him to
diligence, fidelity, and the fear of the Lord:
if a teacher, he will have recognised the im-

_ portance, and dignity, and delightfulness of the
office, and the power there is in zealous regard
for youth and unfeigned operative love.





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