-Av/n,                  7
P~~~~~~~'P
















LOCKE AMSDEN,
THE SCHOOLMIASTER:
A   TALE.
BY THE AUTHOR OF "MAY MARTINE,
"THE GREEN MOUNTAIN BOYS," &c.
"X In every scene some mnoral let us teach;
And, if,we can, at once both please and preach."
POPE'S liTSTLM
BO ST ON:
SANBORN, OARTER & BAZIN.
PORTLAND:
BLAKE & CARTER.
18 5 5.




Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1847,
BY D. P. THOMPSON,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.
STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED  Yr S. N. DICKINSO'N, BOSTON.




TO TIM
FRIENDS OF POPULAR EDUCATION
AND SELF-INTELLECTUAL CULTURE,
IN THES UNITED STiATES9
THitE   FOLLO ING  PAGES,
W'IITTEN LESS WY'IH TE HOPE OF GAINING LITERNARY FANBE, TtAN
OF AlWAKENING AN INTEREST, AND IMPARTING USEFUL SINTS
ON AN IMPORTANT, AND, WITH ALL OIJR BOASTS, A
STILL SADLY NEGLECTED SUBJECT,
ARE  RESPECTFULLY  DEDICATED
BY
THE: AUTH O R.








THE SCHOOLMASTER.
CHAPTER 1.
"To me more dear, congenial to my heart,
One native charm than all the gloss of art."
GOLDSMITH.
Our story, contrary perhaps to fashionable precedent
opens at a common farm-house, situated on one of the principal roads leading through the interior of the northerly
portion of the Union. It was near the middle of the day,
in that part of the spring season when the rough and chill
features of winter are becoming so equally blended with the
soft and mild ones of summer upon the face of nature, that
we feel at loss in deciding whether the characteristics of the
one or the other most prevail.  The hills were mostly bare,
but their appearance was not that of summer; and the tempted
eye turned away unsatisfied from the cheerless prospect which
their dreary and frost-blackened sides presented. The levels,
on the other hand, were still covered with snow; and yet their
aspect was not that of winter. Clumps of willows, scattered
along the hedges, or around the waste-places of the meadows,
were white with the starting buds or blossoms of spring.
The old white mantle of the frost-king was also becoming
sadly dingy and tattered.  Each stump and stone was enclosed by a widening circle of bare ground; while the tops
of the fiurrows, peering through the dissolving snows, wer




6              LOCKEX1  AMSDE~, On
belinning to streak, with long, faint, dotted lines, the self.
disclosing plough-fields.  The cattle were lazily ruminating
in the barn-yard, occas,ionally lowing and casting a wistful
glance at the bare hills around, but without offfering to move
towards them, as if they thought that the prospects there
were hardly sufficient to induce them  yet to leave their
winter quarters.  The earth-loving sheep, however, had
broken fromn their fold, and, having reached the borders of
the hills by some partially trod path, were busily nibbling at
the roots of the shriveled herbage, unheedful of the bleatingc
cries of their feebler companions, that they had left stuck in
the treacherous snow-drifts, encountered in their muigrations
from one bare patch to another.
The owner of the farming  establishment, in reference to
which we have been speakling, was in the door-yard, engaged
in splitting and piling up his yearly stock of fire-wooct.  He
was a man of about forty, not of' a very intellectual countenance, indeed, but of a stout, hardy, and well-made firame,
which showed to advantage in the handsome and appropriate
long, striped, woollen frock, in which he was plying himself
with the moderate and easy motions which are, perhaps,
peculiar to men of great physical power. A rugged and
resolute-looking boy, of perhaps a dozen years of' age, having
thrown himnself' upon one knee before a small pile of prepared
wood, lying near the kitchen door for immediate use, and
having hleaped thie clefts into one arm  till they reached to
his chin, as if in whim to see how much he could carry in,
was now engaged in trying, with a capricious, bravado-like
air, to bala'nce an additional stick on his head, by way of
lucreasing his already enormous load.
In another part of the yard, and as near his master as he
could remnain undisturbed, lay the well-fed house-dog, reclining
upon his belilyr with his muzzle, which was pointed in a
direction most favorable for a look-out, restiLg on a clean,




THE SCHOOLOMASTER.                  7
broad chip, with ears attent, and eyes keenly following the
slow, creeping motions of a small carriage, that was now
seen in the distance winding along the road from the south,
of whose approach he, from time to time, as he considered
himself in duty bound, gave notice by a low growl, which, as
the vehicle at length emerged from some partially screening
bushes into plain and near view, was raised to a lazy wow /
The carriage in question proved to be a light, open wagon,
drawn by one horse, and containing a middle-aged man, of a
fine, gentlemanly appearance, and by his side a small female
figure, closely mnufied in hood and cloak.  Carefully guiding
his horse, and turning him from one side to the other of the
still icy road, to avoid the most sidling and dangerous-looking
places, the traveller at length came abreast of the house;
when the animal lost his footing, and after two or three
violent but fruitless flounders to regain it, by which the carriage was nearly overset, finally landed flat on his side, and
lay as if dead.
"My stars!" exclaimed the farmer, pausing with uplifted
axe to see the mishap, " if that was'nt a narrow escape from
capsizing, it's no matter  "
A second thought now seeming to occur to him, he suddenly
dropped his axe, darted forward to the spot, and, seizing the
prostrate horse by the bits, held him down.
"Clear the wagon," he said, hastily motioning with his
head to the traveller, "the horse will be as likely to overturn
you in rising as he was in falling. Jump down, and lift out
the girl, and I will then let him up."
This advice was instantly complied with; when the horse,
being spurred to an effort, soon safely regained his feet.
"Your beast has lost a shoe, sir," said the farmer, approaching the panting animal, and lifting a suspected foot;'" yes, here is the foot, as bare as your hand. But you must
have another put on before, you drive him another rod in




8                 LOCKE,,- MSDIN3,W OW7
that wagon over these sidling ice-patches, unless you want
your neck broke."
6 I have no very particular wishes for that, certainly," said
the gentleman with a smile; "bu t where can I find a smith
within any reasonable distance?"
"There's one, and a good one too, about a mile from here,
on another road; but I think the horse can be taken across
my pasture to the shop much nearer."
"Should I be likely to meet with any difficulty about
finding tile way?"
"Why, yes, you might; and I'11 tell you what, sir - you
had better let me clap my boy on to the creature's back,
after unharnessing, and he will take him over and get him
shod, while you take your little girl into the house, and
remain here. Ben! " continued the speaker, shouting for
the boy who had gone in with the wood, with which we have
noticed himn as loading himself, "Ben! Ben Amsden! show
your profile out here in the yard, if you will."
The boy promptly made his appearance.'That boy?" asled the stranger, doubtingly. "My horse
has considerable spirit - can he manage him safely?"
He will think so, I guess," replied the farmer, laughingly.
" What say you, Benjamin? We want you to ride this horse
over to neighbor Dighton's to get a shoe put on; and the
gentleman appears to have some doubts whether you can
manage him, seeing he has some spirit - what do you think
about it, sir?"
"'Why, I guess I'11 agree to find neck as long as the
gentleman will find horse," said the boy smartly.
" Well, then, lead him with the wagon into the yard; strip
him of the harness; take our bridle, and ride across the
pasture to the shop; tell Mr. Dighton to put on a new shoe,
and charge it to me, as we have deal; though you may ask
the, price, tha,t the gentleman may hand it to me if he wants




THE SCHOOLMASTER.
to. Come, lister, now you and your little girl go with me
into the house."
" I will assist the boy to unharness first."
" O, no, it will be nothing but fun for him. Come, come
on. It is strange," continued the man, after pausing a moment to see the wagon got safely around into the yard, " it is
strange what a natural difference there is in boys. Now
this chap, as little knurl of a thing as he appears, will mount
and manage any thing in the shape of horse-flesh, even to
the breaking of colts; while my other boy, now tending the
sugar place over in the woods yonder, though nearly four
years older than this, don't appear to have the least notion
about a horse, or any thing else, scarcely, in the way of active
life, so long as he can get a book to read and think about."
Mr. Amsden - for such, as the reader may have already
inferred, was the farmer's name —now ushered the travellers
into the house, and introduced them, as such, to his wife, a
dark-eyed and finely-featured dame, who received them with
simple kindness, and at once proceeded to assist the little girl
in unrobing herself of the thick outward garments in which
she was encased to guard against the damps and chills of the
season.
The girl, who proved to be the gentleman's daughter, was
apparently just entering her teens, neatly rounded, and rather
slender in form, and in feature and countenance the softened
and beautified image of her very fine-looking, though now
somewhat pale and emaciated father. The personal appearance of both father and daughter, indeed, was of a character
to awaken at once the attention and interest of the beholder;
while the countenances of each exhibited so finely blended
an expression of benevolence and intelligence, as to carry
along with it the assurance of qualities within, which should
secure the interest and make good the prepossessions that
outward comeliness hbad created, The gentleman, as just




10               LOCKE A.MSDEN, OR
intimated, had slightly the appearance of an invalid. Indeed,
he soon stated, in the way of accounting for being on a
journey at such an unfavorable time, that, being about to take
a sea-voyage for the benefit of his health, he had broken up
housekeeping at his late residence, in a village some fifty
miles south of the place to which he had now arrived; and it
had therefore become necessary to take his daughter, who,
with himself, now composed all his family, to reside, in his
absence, with a relative, to whose residence another day's
ride would easily carry them.
A few moments, with the gentleman's easy and social turn,
was sufficient to place him on a footing of familiarity with
the family. And having effected this, and seen his daughter
beginning to appear cheerful and at ease, through the delicate
and motherly attentions shown her by the amiable hostess,
he proposed to Mr. Amsden a walk to the barn for an inspection of his stock, and such other things as should afford
samples of his management and skill as a farmer.
" Certainly," said Amsden, evidently gratified at the
interest which one, who did not appear to be of his calling,
seemed to take in his farming affairs, " certainly, sir, we will
go. And you, wife," he continued, turning to the dame, who
was already giving signs of culinary preparation, " you can
look round a little while we are gone, and see what can be
done in the way of a dinner. These folks, as well as ourselves,
would like one soon, probably."
" By being allowed to pay for it, we should," replied the
gentleman.
"Time enough to talk about that when you get it," rejoined
Amsden good-humoredly, as the two left the house on their
way to the barn.
On arriving at the yard, its various and thrifty-looking
tenants were successively pointed out to the observing stranger
by the farmer, who proudly descanted on the virtues of his




THE SCEHOOL AS TER.                  11
axen, the qualities of his cows, the breed of his horses and
colts, and his mode of tending and rearing each, and the
profits he respectively derived firom  them.  After this,
Ams-den took his guest to a little elevation near the barn,
and directed his attention to the different portions of' his
farm, describing the uses to which the various fields in view
were devoted, and dwelling on the advantages which, as a
whole, the farm possessed over those that surrounded it.
"It is a good farm, evidently," responded the stranger,
"and as evidently well conducted. But yonder is your sugarorchard, I think you said: I should be pleased to see your
manner of managing that also."
"Well, I have as good a sugar-place as any body else in
all these parts," replied Amsden; " but I can't say much for
its management, as, considering sugar-making no great object
further than for the supply of nmy family, I have, late years,
left it almost wholly to the boys, who are allowed to carry it
on pretty much as they please.  However, we will walk out
there, and see what is going on, since you have named it."
A short walk brought them to the border of the forest,
where a body of three or four hundred straight, tall, and
thrifty rock-maple trees, standing on an area of about five
acres, composed the sugar-place.  The tops of the trees were
gently swaying to a moderate west wind; and the sap, as
usual in a wind from that quarter, with the required freeze
of the preceding night, was dropping freely, and with pulselike regularity, from  the spouts at the incisions, into the
cleanly looking tubs placed beneath to receive the pure and
flavorous liquid. Taking a path leading to a central part of
the sugar-lot, Amsden and his guest soon carne in sight of the
boiling-place, as indicated by the cloud of mingled smoke
and steam which rose from the seething kettles and the hot
fires beneath them. The ftalmer,  now espying some tubs at a
8hort distance from tFhe path, hat needed  adjusting on their




a2S              LOCKE AMSDEN,  ORI
sinking foundations of snow, stepped aside, bidding the other
go on; and the latter accordingly proceeded, with a leisurely
step, alone towards the boiling-place. On arriving within a
rod or two of- the spot, he paused, and looked around for the
one in superintendence; when his eye soon fell on the person
of a boy of about sixteen, lying on some straw at the mouth
of the shantee, which opened towards the row of boiling
kettles in front. The lad had a ciphering slate, and a large,
old, cover-worn volume spread before him; and upon this
he -was so absorbingly engaged, that neither the sight or
sound of his approaching visitor appeared to make the least
impression on his senses. Hesitating to disturb one evidently
so little expecting it, the stranger stood a moment, now
looking around for the absent farmer, and now glancing with
an air of interest and surprised curiosity at the picturesque
attitude, shapely limbs, and finely-turned head of the boy;
who, with bosom thrown open, hat cast aside, the fingers of
one hand twisted in his curly, raven hair, and those of the
other grasping the nimbly-plying pencil, was thus engaged in
an employment so little looked for by the other on a common
farm, and least of all in the woods. The gentleman was not
allowed, however, much time for his musing upon so unusual
a spectacle; for, the next moment, our little student of the
woods leaped suddenly upon his feet, and, with the exulting
shout of Archimedes of old, exclaimed aloud, " I have done
it! I have done it!" adding, as he turned back and shook
his fist at the book, "6 now, Old Pike, just show me another
sum that- I can't do, will you? you are conquered, sir!"
Having thus delivered himself, the boy turned round, when,
his eyes for the first time falling upon the stranger, he
instantly dropped his head, and stood covered with shame
and confusion.
6" Locke!" exclaimed the farmer, emerging,  at this juneture,
from the bushes on the opposite side of the fire, and going




THE  SCHOOLMASTER,                 1 
up and peering into the steaming kettles, " why, Locke, what
have you been about?  This smallest kettle has boiled down
into sugar, and is burning up, dirt, settlings, and all together!
Where on earth," he petulantly continued, hastily swinging
off the kettle, " where on earth can have been the boy's eyes
and wits, to stand by and let ten or a dozen pounds of sugar
spoil for want of putting in a little sap!  What is the
meaning of it?  What is the case?  Zounds, sir, why don't
you speak?"
But the now doubly confused object of this tirade of the
provoked farmer, was unable to utter one word in extenuation
of his delinquency; and, after one or two ineffectual attempts
to speak, sunk down on a log, and hid his burning face with
his hands. At once appreciating the feelings of the boy, and
touched at the sensibilities he exhibited under the mingled
emotions arising from wounded delicacy and conscious fault,
the stranger immediately interposed, by observing, as he
pointed to the slate and arithmetic still lying where the owner
had used them,
"Your boy is a mathematician, I perceive, sir; and yonder
is the innocent cause, and at the same time the excuse for
his oversight, as I have reason to suspect."
"'Yes, yes, I'1 warrant it," replied Amsden pettishly,
44 it's just like him.  His head is always so full of ciphering
questions, grammar puzzles, and all sorts of bookish wrinkles,
that there is no room for any thing else; and I can scarcely
trust him to manage the most simple business, he is often so
absent-minded and blundering."
"And yet," rejoined the other, "I  should feel proud of his
faults, while they sprang only from such causes, if I was his
father. Come, come, my lad," he continued, turning and
soothingly addressing the boy, "cheer up; you have committed no very serious offence, I suspect. At all events, I
will venture kt take the sugar which your father thinks io




14                LOCKE AMfSDEN, o1
spoil; d off his hands, and pay full price for it, to give to my
little girl down at the house.  She is very fond of the maple
sweet, I believe."
" Pay for it? -buy it? No, you sha'nt, unless you really
want to buy some for yourself, and then you should have
some better than this," quickly interposed the father, taken
wholly aback by this unexpected proposition and course of
the stranger; "no, indeed, sir. Why, it is all nothing. I
was only a little vexed at the boy's carelessness, that's all.
I care nothing about the sugar, even if it had been burnt up,
as it is not, I presume.  But we will now see. And at any
rate, the little girl shall have as much sugar as she wants,
without paying for it either. Locke, bring us a clean tub to
turn it into, and we will see what can be done with it."
" You are quite mistaken about the quantity of what might
be made of all that is in that kettle, father," said the boy, now
brightening up, and bringing the receptacle asked for; "I
took the syrup from the kettle but a few hours ago, and,
gathering a few pails of the clearest sap I could find, and
straining it, I filled up anew, thinking I would boil down a
few pounds as nice as I could for brag-su ar."
"W ell, it does look pretty clear, and it is not done down
to sugar yet, I see. I was deceived by there being so little
of it," remarked the father, in a moderated tone, as he turned
off into the tub the rich, red fluid, which, after all, had only
boiled down to the consistency of a very thin molasses. "6 0,
yes, this may be brought to something quite decent. IHave
you any milk or eggs for cleansing, Locke?"
"Yes, sir, both."
W" fwell, then, beat up the white of an egg, and add a little
milk, if you please; and by the time you have prepared the
mixture, I will have the syrup cool enough for clarifying.
rTe may as well finish it now, perhaps."
TIn a few moments, the  inquild was sufficiently ccoled, th




THE SCHOOLMASTER.                  15
mixture stirred in, and the whole placed in the kettle over a
small fire, before which the farmer, with skimmer in hand,
took his station, to be ready for the process of cleansing.
The liquor, beginning almost instantly to feel the heat, at
first gave out a sharp, singing sound, which, as the greenishgray cloud of impurities rapidly rose and gathered in a thick,
mantling coat over the surface, gradually changed into a low,
stifled roar, growing more bass and indistinct, till it suddenly
ceased with the first bubble that rose to the disrupturing
surface. The feculent coat, thus collected and broken, was
then quickly skimmed off, leaving the pure and brightly
contrasting liquid to rise, as the next instant it did, with
diffusing ebulitions, to the top of the kettle in a fleckered
mass of yellow foam, resembling some fantastic fret-work of
gold.
While the father stood over the kettle rapidly plying his
skimmer to prevent the contents from boiling over, the
stranger turned to the son, and entered into conversation
with him; with the apparent object of drawing him out; asking
him many questions relative to his studies, and often manifesting both interest and surprise at the answers which were
promptly returned.
"Your son bears the name of a great and learned man,"
observed the gentleman, turning at length to the father. "Do
you intend he shall try to rival his namesake in knowledge
and fame?"
" Don't know any thing about that. But you are wandering
considerable further than you need to for his name. He got
that from his mother: her maiden name was Locke."
"0O, ho! But don't you think of giving him an education?"
"Education? why I arm giving him one. He attends our
district school regularly every winter."
" 1 meant a public education."




s6               ELOCKE AMDNES, OnR
" Then I say, No; I intend him for a farmer."
"That is right - it is a noble calling, but one, let me tell
you, sir, that affords no argument against a public education.
I am well aware, that it is deemed unnecessary, by the people
of the Middle and Northern States, especially, to give liberal
educations to any of their sons, except those destined for the
learned professions; but I cannot but consider this a great
error, and one whose consequences are seriously felt by the
agricultural interest, which, in its various relations, must
ever remain the great and leading interest of the country."
" How so?"
"Why, the first and direct consequence of the course ]
condemn is, that it places nearly all the science, and most of
the intellect, of the country in the professions; and from this
spring a train of others, all tending to the same point. The
business of agriculture is thus left to be conducted by the
unscientific and more unthinking portion of community, and
its advance in improvement will, of course, be comparatively
slow. Grades are thus established in society, in which the
farming is made less honorable than professional business,
operating as an inducement for all the most enterprising and
ambitious to leave the fbrmer, already too much neglected,
and crowd into the latter, already so much overstocked as to
have become the fruitful source of demagogues and sharpers.
And besides all this, the farming interest, under the present
order of things, will never be efficiently or adequately represented in our legislatures, where those interests will always
be best protected and promoted which furnish the most talent
to advocate and forward them."
"Well, some part of that may be true, sir, especially your
notion about too many quitting work to go into the professions,
and become idlers and sharpers; but I really can't see what
use high learning is to a man in carrying on the business of
farming - can you?"




THE SCHOOLMA~1TEAR,               17
"Yes, sir. Even in the mere management of your grounds,
a thorough knowledge of the sciences will give you many and
great advantages."
W6 hat advantages, I should like to know?"
"One, and a great one, too, will be that it will show you
the true nature and capabilities of the different soils of your
farm, which can be accurately known only by a knowledge
of chemistry and geology. It was through these sciences
that plaster was discovered, and its use in supplying the
place of some ingredient which, by the same means, was
found to be wanting to make the soil fruitful. You have
used this article, perhaps, on your own farm?"
1" Yes, I have; and if the article came by the sciences, I
should be willing, for one, that the sciences should take it
away again. A year or two ago, I laid out about a dozen
dollars in ground plaster to sow over an old, worn-out piece
of bottom land of mine; and I might have as well sown so
much ground moonshine, as for any good it did. Well, the
next year, I put a lot on to a heavy, wet piece of land, to see
whether it might not help that; and I come out with just
about as much benefit as before. In both cases, my money
was thrown away."
" And yet, sir, that is one of those facts which go strongly
to prove what I have said. Without chemical analysis, it
can with no certainty be determined what ingredients are
lacking in any soil to restore its fertility. The knowledge I
contend for would have taught you this, and enabled you to
lay out your money where, instead of being thrown away, it
would have been doubled. It would have taught you, that
alluvial soils, or meadows, are rarely, if ever, benefited by
plaster; lime, potash, salt, or a mixture of some other soil
being required, to produce the necessary change. And so
with wet, heavy soils, whose defects are better remedied by
an addition of peat, loam, or gravel; while high and dry




1~8  ~       LOCKE  AMSDENK  OR
soils are generally made productive, to an astonishing degreeg
by plaster alone."
"Is that a fact?  Well, I never knew it before."
" Yes, sir; this, and much more of the same character, has
already been ascertained, not by practical farmers, but by
men of science, who have made these discoveries by only
occasionally turning their attention to the subject. And if
so much has been done by those who made it not their main
object and business, what might not be effected by a whole
community of educated farmers, whose whole energies and
interests were devoted to the work of improvement? Indeed,
sir, I seriously believe, that if our legislatures would establish
a fund for the liberal education of young farmers, with the
condition that they should remain such, they would do a
thousand times more towards promoting and elevating the
great interest of agriculture, to say nothing of the general
benefits which would follow - would do a thousand times
more than by all the premiums they could offer for best
products, or all the societies they could establish."
"Well, I confess, sir, that your ideas, which are new to
me, look kinder reasonable. But what is the reason all these
things cannot be learned in our common schools? We have
them in all our districts, both summer and winter, and generally keep our children in them more than half of the year,
from the ages of four to twenty."
" Perhaps most of the sciences might be acquired in our
common schools, if they were conducted properly, and by
teachers of adequate qualifications. But as at present managed, and with the low wages now given, it is next to a
miracle to find a teacher thus qualified.  Now, for instance,
as regards your son here, I very much doubt whether you
will ever have a teacher in your district, who will be able to
instruct him much more, especially in those higher branches
which he is now evidently capable of entering  upon with




THE SCHOOLMIASTE.                  19
profit to himself. No, sir, you should send him to the public
schools. It will give him advantages in life, which he can
never otherwise obtain. Knowledge is power."
"Well, sir, if knowledge is power, as in some respects it
probably is, it is often used, I fear, by those who have it, to
take advantage of the weak and honest laboring people, who
don't happen to be so well educated."
"Such advantages may be, and sometimes doubtless are,
tak en by some, who have knowledge without moral principle.
But the proportion of unprincipled men among the well
educated, I am  satisfied, is much smaller than among an
equal number of almost any class of society.  Allowing,
however, the proportion to be the same, or greater, how
would you disarm them of that power? In no other way,
certainly, than by placing the same weapons of knowledge in
thle hands of the many, instead of the few. I am no advocate
for power to be used in the manner you mention. I am no
advocate for the doctrine,' That those who think, must govern those who toil.'
I believe, sir, as I have been endeavoring to show, that those
who think and those who toil should be one and the sanme
class; and, as I have already intimated, I believe this desirable
object can never be effected, without a-ffording the means of
a more general and thorough education."
During the foregoing dialogue between iMr. Amsden and
his guest, - who stood over the kettle of boiling sugar, occasionally dipping into it with their slender wooden spoons or
paddles, to sip the pure liquid, or the less cloying sweet of
the snowy scum  continually gathering in concentric and
surgy lines around the point of ebulition, - Locke stood like
one spell-bound to the spot, eagerly drinking in the. words
and opinions of the courteous stranger, who had so eloquently
expressed the feelings of his own breast, and given a definitr




L OCKeE A SDE.N, OR
shape to many a confused idea of a similar bearing, which
had often risen in his own mind. His heart, swelling with
irrepressible emotions, gratefully responded to every sentiment he had heard; and he felt as if he could have fallen
down and worshipped, as a superior being, the man who had
uttered them. He had often befbre, as just intimated, harbored thoughts, feelings, and wishes like those of the stranger;
yet they had been vague and uncertain, and he never dared
cherish them as practicable for himself, or indulge in any
expectation of their fulfilment.  But now the train, which
had long been preparing in his bosom, was fired never more
to be extinguished.
By this time, the now slowly boiling sugar had settled
low in the kettle, and assumed that deep, orange hue, which
indicates a near approach to that point at which granulation
takes place almost as soon as the mass ceases boiling.'" Come, Locke," said  Ir. Amsden, raising aloft his skimmer, from which each falling drop was followed by a fine,
silken harl, that stiffened and shivered in the breeze; " come,
it throws off the hairs pretty smartly, I see; we may as
well call it done, I think. You may bring," he continued,
lifting off the kettle, " you may bring me a clean pail to take
it home in. And havy'nt you a tin cup or something, Locke,
into which you can take some by itself to carry to the gentleman's little girl? - it might please her better."
"We have nothing fit for that, here, father, I believe,"
replied the boy. "But stay - I made something the other
day that will do, I think; and I will give it to her, sugar
and all, to carry off with her, if she will accept it."
So saying, he ran into the shantee, and returned with a
small, neatly-made, oblong box, holding, perhaps, about a
pint, which he had chiseled and cut out from a solid billet of
the beautiful bird's-eye maple, having provided it with a
curiously carved slide-cover, and tastefully stained the whole




THE SCHOOLMASTEI.                   21
with the pale phil of some vegetable coloring-matter that he
had found in the woods.
"Upon 1my word! " said the stranger, glancing at thle box,
as it was being filled and set aside to cool by its ingenioius
and free-hearted little owner, 6 "upon my word, M'aster Locke,
you seenl to have a genius for every thing.  That is one of
the neatest specimens of mechanical skill, considering your
means of making it here in the woods, which I have seen
this long while. My d(augnhter, I think, will feel quite proud,of her present."
6" 0, the boy knows enough," said Amsden with affected
indifference, as le, with the pail of new sugar, and his sonl
with the box, having filled up the kettles with sap, and
replenished the fires, now started witil their guest for the
house, "he knows enough, no doubt; and if he would only
turn his mind on business to some account, he might make
considerable ofi a man."
On reaching and entering the house, our young hero sent
a sheepish and inquiring glance around the room in search
of the object on which he had promised himself the pleasure
of bestowing his sweet and pretty gift; but when that fair
object met his admiring gaze, with her brightly blue eyes
and sweetly expressive countenance, his courage suddenly
failed him, and he found himself unable to approach and
make the offering, till her father, interposing, directed her
attention to the present, which he told her his young friend,
Master Locke, had generously proposed to make her; when,
feeling that there was now no retreat for him, he timidly
advanced and silently presented the box to the srniling girl,
who received it, at first, with a playful " thank'ee," -and then,
as she drew out the cover, and.ascertained the contents, with
lively expressions of grateful delight. This breaking the ice
of his bashfulness, Locke soon found himself engaged with_
hbi fair friend in a sociable conversation, which was main.




A2                LOCKE AMSDBWs OR
tained on her part with that sort of unconscious frankness, or
forwardness, perhaps we might say, which characterizes the
manners of the sex at the age of the one in question.
The company were now summoned to the excellent dinner,
which the provident and ambitious mistress of the house had
prepared for the occasion. The meal, which she had spread
on her best cherry table, covered with a cloth of snowy
whiteness, the workmanship of her own hands from distaff to
hemming and marking, consisted, in the first place, of ham,
eggs, and other varieties of the substantial food usually
found upon the farmer's table.  Then came the fine meal
indian Johnny-cake, mixed with cream, eggs, and sugar, and
forming, when rightly made, perhaps the most delectable
esculent of the bread kind, that ever gratified an epicure's
palate. This last, and the light, hot biscuit, for those who
chose them, together with pies, both apple and minced, stewed
fruit, gooseberry preserves, honey, and new sugar, constituted
the desert, - the whole making  a repast which gave proof
that the farmer has amrple materials of his own raising, if he
has but a wife of competent skill in cookery to manage them,
to furnish a table which may be made to rival the boasted
banquet-boards of princes.
As soon as the dinner, whaich had passed off with great
sociability and good feeling, was finished, the travellers,
pleading the necessity of diligence on their way, immediately
commenced preparations for resuming their journey. The
horse, which, in the mean time, had been returned and well
cared for by the boy who had taken him in charge, was now,
by the same active little groom, speedily cleaned, harnessed,
and brought up with the carriage to the door. And, the
next moment, the gentleman, with the sprightly little lTary
(for such, it appeared, was the girl's namle,) emerged from the
house, followed by the family, who now gathered round the
car-iage to witness the departure of those who seemed -to




TH1E SCHOOLMASTER.                23
have succeeded, in two brief hours, in awakening an interest
which is usually created only by a long and intimate acquaintance,
"Now, Mr. Amsden," said the stranger, turning to his
host, after placing his daughter in her seat, "now, I will
settle with you for the shoeing of the horse, our dinners, and
all other trouble, to say nothing of the hospitable kindness
with which you all have made us feel so much at home.
What, sir, will be your bill? "
"Ben, what did Air. Dighton say he should charge'?"
asked the other, turning to his boy.
"Forty cents, sir," was the prompt reply.
"Well, forty cents, then, is the bill," resumed the farmer.
"Yes, but the rest of your charges? "
"We will trust you for that."
"I should prefer to pay, sir."
"You may, if you will allow me to direct the manner of
payment."
" Very well, sir; speak on."
"Why, when you get settled down in life again, give some
other traveller a dinner, if he is as good company as you
have been, and that shall square the account between us."
"I will, however, make your boys a present."
"Better see whether they will take any thing first, sir."
" O, no, no, sir," quickly interposed Locke, as the gentlemen
was opening his purse.
" Not a cent for me, Mister; that aint the way I get my
living," chimed in the spirited and proud little Ben.
"Ah, I see you are all determined to have your way at
this time," smilingly remarked the stranger: " however, all
may come right hereafter, perhaps. But as the matter now
stands, I have only to express my sense of obligation to each
and all of you. And one thing more, before we part, IMr.




LOCKE AMr:aU5, oP
Amsden- let me repeat to you my, advice, to give this elder
son of yours the chance for a good education."
"Do you think he has capacities which would warrant
such a step, sir?" asked the gratified mother of the boy.
"Indeed, I certainly do, Madam; even to sending him to a
college," replied the other.
"That would be impossible in my circumstances, provided
I thought as you do on the subject," remarked 1ir. Amsden.
"Let him go to a good academy, then,"  rejoined the
stranger.
"Well, now, I don't exactly know about that," replied the
other. "He may go winters to our district schools as long
as he pleases; and I think, for the present, at least, that he
should, and will be, quite satisfied with that. Is it not so,
Locke?"
"Why," answered the boy difildently, "I should be satisfied to go to our district masters, if they could tell me the
reasons of things, which I always wish to know."
"That is right, Master Locke, responded the stranger;
"' you have expressed, in almost a word, the great aim and
essence of all true knowledge and philosophy' to know the
reason of things.' Yes, my young friend, let that still be
your ambition; and, if your father will give you the opportunity, I doubt not you will do honor to the motto you have
chosen."
" Wel, I would be a scholar, Locke, if I was you," added
MV ary, with charming nacvete; and if you will, and come and
keep school where I live, I will go to school to you, and
become a great scholar too, if I ca a."
The travellers now took their leave of the family, and drove
from the yard, attended by the repeatedly expressed good
wishes of the good-hearted farmer, and his equally kind and
more high-minded companion. And, in these wishes, they




THE SCHO OLItASTER.                25
were joined by another, who, though he had uttered less, yet
felt more than they had expressed! That was our young
hero; who, as the rest of the family returned into the house,
stood mutely gazing after the receding carriage, till its last
traces were lost to his sight; when he slowly turned away,
the big drops of tears standing in his eyes, and his lip quivering with emotions which had been awakened by this brief,
but to him, as will appear in the sequel, important visit of
these interesting strangers.




CHAPTER II.
"' The dream, the thirst, the wild desire,
Delirious, yet divine - to know!"
BULWER.
THE accidental call of the travellers at the house of the
farmer, as narrated in our opening chapter, formed an era in
the life of Locke Amsden.  By that call, new thoughts
had been suggested to his mind - new feelings and hlopes
awakened in his bosom; and, as the slumbering energies of
his intellectual and moral nature became thus aroused, young
ambition began to point him upward to the temple of science,
over whose distanced-hallowed pinnacles floated the mystic
banner of fame. At first, every word of the revered stranger
was recalled, every position revolved over and over in mind,
and every argument carefully weighed; and the result of the
process was faith and conviction. Then came the inspiriting
words of the beautiful little being, who, in angel shape, had
thus appeared in his path to incite him onward; and, "I
would be a scholar, Locke," continued to ring in his ears.
"' Ay, and I will be a scholar! " he at length mentally ejaculated; "and then I will go where she lives, and she shall
know that I have worthily done her bidding, and justified
the good opinion of her father. But where does she live? -
yes, where?"  For he now recollected, that he had not
learned from her, or her father, the place of their residence;
and, under the proud and joyous impulse which his reverie
had imparted, he flew to his parents with the inquiry. But
neither of them could answer it. They had not ascertained
even the family name of their visiters.  Mlr. Amsden had




THYE SC HIO OLMIIA STER,..         27
thought of acsking the mnal. tlhese particulars; but, it occurring
to him that his wife would naturally find them out friom the
little girl, he desisted. And this Mirs. Amsden had intended
to do; but her attention was so much engrossed in the cares
of preparing tile dinner, that she had neglected it, till the
return of the gentleman into the house deprived her of the
opportunity of doing so, without appearing obtrusive. The
Christian name of the girl, therefore, with the fact, that she
and her father came from a place some fifty miles to the
south, and were destined to another nearly as far to the
north, was all that had been ascertained concerning them,
other than what their personal appearance indicated.  But,
although our young hero wTas thus left in ignorance of the
names, residence, character, and calling of Ihis new friends,
uad for many years was doomed to remain so, yet the event
of their visit was not the less destined to exercise an important
influence on his future life and fortunes. It seemed to be,
indeedl one of those trifling incidents which so often seem to
change the ufate of individuals, and impart an enduring impulse toward1s a destiny to which, in all human probability,
they otherwise would never have been called.  Such an
impulse had been imparted, in the present instance, by the
mere call of two entire strangers; and that simple incident
would probably have been sufficient of itself, had no other
grown out of it, to give a new and continuing direction to
the energies of him on whom it so peculiarly operated. But
there yet remained to be added another occurrence arising
from the circumstances of the first, which was directly calculated to strengthen every impulse already received, and every
resolution formed under it.
About a month from the time the incidents we have been
sketching transpired, a strong board box, directed to Jlfiaster
Locke AAmsden, was left at the door by a teamster; who, saying
he had received it from another teamster, with directions to




28               LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
leave it at this place, went on his way, without giving any
further information respecting it, or those who sent it.
YWondering what might be the contents of the box, the
receipt of which was so unexpected to him, though partly
anticipating the source from which it must have come, Locke
flew for his hamnmer and knocked off the cover; when, to
his joyful surprise, he found the box filled with books, upon
the top of wihich lay a neatly folded and superscribed little
billet, directed to himself. Eagerly snatching up the paper,
he opened it, and read, in the finely-traced characters of an
unsettled female hand, the laconic contents: -
"A  lot of old, musty volumes, in return for your nice
little present. Father has picked them out froi  his old
college books, and given them to me to send to you, saying
you would like them. If you think, as he says, about them,
I shall be pleased to have you accept them from
Y" Your friend,
With a low shout of irrepressible joy, he now hastily
caught up his treasure, rushed into the house, and, calling on
his mother to come and witness his good fortune, fell to
unpacking the books, greedily running over the title-pages
of each, as, with many a half-suppressed exclamation of
pleasure, he successively took out the different volumes,
which, to the number of eight or ten, the box contained, and
spread them around him on the floor. The collection consisted of a complete set of mathematics, from  common
arithmetic to fluxions; a standard work on natural philosophy; another on astronomy; together with separate treatises
upon geology, mineralogy, and chemistry; while the whole
was accompanied by a good set of mnathematical instruments.
From what we have ahleady shown the reader of the




TIE SCH00OLMASTER.                 29
character and inclinations of Locke, it may be easily imagined with what rapture he doted on this munificent and
appropriate present, not only from its intrinsic value, and
the untold advantages which he was to reap from it, but for
the fair giver, and her prompting father, by whom it had
been so delicately and flatteringly bestowed,- with what
pleasure he looked forward to the time when he should be
allowed to devote himself wholly to the great, but coveted
task, which, in these books, he now saw set before him. By
most others, perhaps, the course of mathematics here preo
sented, had been viewed only as a labor of almost endless
toil and difficulty. He, however, looked upon it but as a
labor of delight, so much the better for its promised length,
since that would add so much the more to the fund of his
happiness. For the first week, his leisure was given to
looking over the subject matter on which the volumes of his
prized little library severally treated, and arranging the
order, in which his own good sense and discrimination
rightly taught him they should be studied. Having settled
this, and accordingly determined to make mathematics his
first study, while he should proceed with geology and the
like as his light reading, he began with algebra, assiduously,
and with his usual systematic perseverance, devoting to it
every hour he could snatch from his customary employments
on the farm. And thus, making what progress he could, in
the brief intervals allowed him for the purpose, and leaving
all knotty points to be thought over and solved while at work
in the field, he alone, unassisted and unprompted, steadily
pursued the course he had marked out for himself, neither
seeking nor asking any other recreation or pleasure than
what his studies afforded. But, although this course was a
source of constant pleasure to Locke, not so did it soon
become to his honest but simple-minded father, who, rightly
enough attributing his son's growing inadvertencies in busi0.w




s0                 LOCKE ATMISDEN, OR
ness to these books, often wished, in his heart, the whole
collection at the bottom of the sea. A_&id these inadvertencies,
which so naturally grew out of the course he. was pursuing,
were, it must be confessed, not unfr-equently of a character
to cause vexation to a business mlan of a less petulant turn
than IMr. Amsden.  For, if the latter had reason to coimplain
of his son in this respect before, he had much more cause
for doing so now; since, with the greatest willingness and
undoubted capacities for work, the boy too often effected but
little, and as often did that little wrong. In those kinds of
labor, to be sure, where he could induce his father to task him,
he would apply every energy of body and mind, till his task
was completed, which was generally by noon; when, for the
remainder of the day, he might be seen lying on the grass,
under some shady tree, with his book andI instruments spread
before him.  But in work which would nlot admit of this, the
problems that he took with himn in his head into the field,
often led to sinogular oversighlts in the business about whicht
his hands were employed.  If he was sent on an errand to
somne other part of the farm, he would sometimes wholly
forget vwlhat he went for.  Sometimes he would leave the
bars down, the cows unmiliked, or the hogs unfed; and sonletimes, when hoein-g alone in the cornfield, and when solme
mathenatical question occurred to hIis mi'nd which he wishied
to solve, Ihe would stop work, and making a smooth bed of
earth to serve for slate or paper, fall to figuring or malkingll
diagrams with his finger in thie place hIe had thus preparle]3,
and think no more of his hoeing, perhaps, till roused fiolm
his study by the loud note of the tin house-trumpet summoning him  home to his mid-day or evening meal. All
these, as innocently done as they were, cost him, as may well
be supposed, many a scolding and fretfil expostulation from
his impatient and driving father, who, as the season of outdoor labor drew  to a close, expressed  himself heartily




T     HEE S CHOLM3ASTER1.           1
thankful that the time for beginning the winter school had
at length come, that Locke's body might now go where his
head and heart had been all summer. On the last point, at
least, the father and son were quite of the same mind. And,
accordingly, the latter, as the long wished-for period when
he could be allowed to give himself wholly to his studies
arrived, joyfully packed up his books, and changed the scene
of his mental operations from the farm to the school-house.
But here again it was his fortune soon to become, though not
exactly in the same way as before, the unintentional cause of
much uneasiness and perplexity to another personage. That
other personage was the schoolmaster, who -his acquirements, as usual with the mass of our district-school teachers,
being confined to common arithmetic, grammar, and the like,
without the ability to illustrate one half of the principles
even of these -viewed with considerable alarm, at the outset,
the formidabie-looking books which Locke had brought into
the school with the avowed intention of pursuing the studies
they contained. And he made several attempts to draw the
other from his purpose.  Common arithmetic, said he, should
first be thoroughly studied, and all the sums worked over
and over, till they were as familiar as the alphabet. Locke,
in reply, said he should like to have a sum pointed out to
him in any of the arithmetics which he could not already do;
though, if the master would illustrate to him the rules of
allegation and double position, he would like to listen, as he
did not quite understand all the reasons for the results of
these two rules. Not caring to push the matter any farther
on that tack, the teacher next recommended geography as a
useful and interesting study.'In answer to this, Locke proposed to submit himself to an examination; being able, as he
believed, to answer every ordinary question that could be
raised, either on the maps or in the text-book. The master
then mentioned English grammar, advising the other again




32               LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
to commit the grammar book to memory. Here, also, he
was met by the obdurate pupil, who, though willing to join
the parsing class at their lessons, objected to spending any
more time upon his grammar book; and, by the way of
furnishing a reason for his objections, he immediately brought
forward the book in question, and, handing it to the former,
kept him reluctantly looking over till the whole was rattled
off at one recitation.
Being foiled in these and every other attempt of the kind,
the master concluded to let Locke go on in his chosen pursuits
unmolested; and right thankful would he have been for a
reciprocation of the favor. This, however, as with reason
he had feared, was not granted him by the unconscious
object of his dread, who soon called on him for explanations
of problems or principles, of which he knew about as much
as the man in the moon; but of which he had unwisely
determined to conceal his ignorance, lest it should be said in
the district, that there were scholars in the school who knew
more than their master. And having settled on this course,
no other alternative now remained for him, but to meet these
calls for instruction in the best way he could. And it would
have been amusing enough to a spectator, in the secret, to
have witnessed the various shifts to which the poor fellow
was driven, to get along with his troublesome pupil, without
exposing the ignorance which he was so anxious to conceal.
At one time, when thus called on for instruction, he would
pretend such a hurry, that he could not attend to the
required explanation; at another, when apparently le was
about to comply with the request of his pupil, he would
suddenly discover some delinquency in the school, which he
must immediately attend to, and which would be made to
occupy his attention so long, that he would have barely time
to huarry through the ordinary duties of school, before the
established hour of closing. At another time, he would take




THE SCHOOLAIASTERo                33
the book, look over the difficult passage, and, handirg' it back
to Locke with a knowing smile, advise him to try it again;
he would soon see the only difficulty, and it would be better
for him to discover it for himself. And at yet another, when
hard pressed for assistance, he would read the problem in
question several times, and after glancing at the context till
he had got the run of the technical terms, proceed with a
pretended explanation, for which neither himself, pupil, or
any one else, could ever be any the wiser.  From  this
unpleasant predicament, however, the thus sadly annoyed
teacher was at length happily relieved. For Locke, finding
himself unable to make any thing out of the man, even when
he was successful enough to get him to look at his studies,
came, after a while, to the conclusion to let him entirely
alone, and depend only on himself for mastering the difficulties which he met in his progress. And, with his excellent
self-formed habits of thought- that of patient investigation,
and of thoroughly understanding every thing, as, step by
step, he carefully advanced - he found but little trouble in
overcoming every obstacle that presented itself in his course
onward. And if ever, as was rarely the case, he was compelled to pass over a difficulty unexplained, he never lost
sight of it till it was conquered.
There is nothing, perhaps, upon which the growth of
intellect so much depends, as upon habits of thought;
nothing which so clearly constitutes the great distinguishing
difference, in the present, between a strong intellect and
a feeble one; and nothing which so conclusively accounts
for the beginning and constant increase of that difference in
the past, as the opposite habits of thought that have been
contracted in youth, or, at the latest, in the first years of
manhood. A glance at the contrasted methods adopted and
pursued by two individuals of the two different classes of
thinkers to which we have alluded, will show the truth of




34                LOCKE AMTSDEN', OFR
this position; and, at the same time, explain the causes of
their respective intellectual conditions. An individual of one
of these classes begins, we will suppose, upon one of the
rudiments of education.  Before mastering the first elementary principle, he leaves, or is suffered to leave it, for the
next. In coming upon this, he has not only to contend with
the difficulties he left unmastered in the former lesson, but
those likewise of the intrinsically worse one of the present.
Both the temptation and excuse are now doubled for sliding
superficially over this also. The third, in this way, is found
still worse, and consequently is still more imperfectly mastered; and so on, in the particular branch on which he is
engaged, or any other, probably, which he shall undertake to
learn, to the end of the chapter; at which he will arrive little
or none benefited by all that he has acquired.  For the
knowledge thus gained  is imperfect and uncertain, and
cannot be relied on as data for reasoning, but is constantly
leading to false conclusions.  And besides this, he has wholly
failed of gaining one of the great objects of study - mental
discipline. He has contracted the habit of thinking superficially upon every thing. All his ideas become vague and
confused; and all the operations of his mind, are, consequently, imbecile and unsafe, producing no fruits, or but the
fruits of error. This intellectual condition, indeed, becomes
one that would seem almost to justify the absurd, and without
considerable qualification, the false assertion of Pope,'" A little learning is a dangerous thiing."
Now for an individual of the other class. Like the former,
and with no other advantages, he commences the same rudiments.  But, unlike the former, he is induced to make
himself completely master of the first principle, and familiar
with all its details, before proceeding any farther.  This
being accomplished, he thus becomes armed with power to




THE SCHOOLMASTER.                   35
encounter the next; which, in this way, lihe finds but little if
any more difficult than the preceding; and which, when
equally well perfected, gives him still additional strength to
grapple with the third. And so he proceeds, or may proceed,
through the whole circle of the sciences, carefully making
his way, step by step, onward; never sliding over a difficulty,
but often retracing his steps to return to the onset with
improved means of overcoming the obstacle in his progress.
In this way, as he advances in the path of acquirement, just
so much certain knowledge he gains, to be stored away in
the chambers of his mind for future appropriation, either to
its direct uses, or to the purposes of induction, comparison,
or other process of reasoning. In this way, also, his mind
acquires method, clearness, and vigor; and he thus becomes
enabled to think correctly and thoroughly, and arrive at safe
conclusions on whatever subject is presented for his investigation. Now these two individuals will carry the different
habits of thought, thus respectively formed by them, into the
business and various concerns of life; and the results will
there be equally visible, as in the walks of science.  The
one never thoroughly investigates any subject.  His views,
as before intimated, are all superficial; and his conclusions,
consequently, as often as otherwise, are erroneous, leading
him into false movements in business, if guided by his own
mind, if not reducing him to a miserable dependence on the
opinions of others, by whom he is liable to be equally misled.
The other examines every subject presented for his consideration patiently, weighs it carefully, sees it in all its bearings
clearly, and thus becomes prepared to decide with confidence
and correctness.  The one, in short, seeing only part of the
bearings of the various questions which are constantly arising
in life for his decision, makes bad bargains, or rejects good
ones, rushes into Uncertain speculations, lives in continued
embarrassments and troubles, which he calls misfortunes, but




36               LOCKE ASMSDEN, OR
which good habits of thoilght would have enabled him to
avoid, and ends his career, most probably, in poverty and
insignificance, or in sudden ruin and disgrace. The other,
carrying along with him the means of avoiding the evil,
which is brought upon its victim through the causes we have
just named, and, at the same time, the means of grasping the
good, which, through similar causes, is rejected, goes on
increasing in competence, wisdom, and influence, moving
quietly through life, and leaving, at his death, a useful
example, and an honest fame behind him.
Such are generally the results deducible from good and
bad habits of thought; and yet who will say these habits,
for good or for evil, are not usually formed through the care
or negligence of teachers? Instructors of youth, where
rests the responsibility?
But to return to our young hero. For the remainder of
tile winter school, though left, for the best of reasons, by the
master, to work his way unassisted, he pressed forward
steadily and rapidly in his chosen course of mathematics.
And the school having at length been brought to a close,
spring, summer, and autumn again succeeded but to find
him, in every moment of his leisure, employed on his studies
in the same manner, and with the same untiring perseverance,
as in the preceding season. One incident, however, occurred
this season to vary the monotony of his secluded life; while,
at the same time, it became the means of affording him
advantages in his studies, which he never before had been so
fortunate as to receive. That was an accidental acquaintance
he formed with an old, self-taught land-surveyor, who resided
in a different part of the same town; and who, like himself,
was a great lover of that strong, but healthy food of the
mind - the science of numbers and quantities. Locke and
this man, by that sort of intellectual free-masonry which
passes among sympathetic minds, were not long, when the




THE SCHOOLMASTER.                37
opportunity occurred, in finding each other out, and forming
a close intimacy. The surveyor, having studied much more
than was immediately necessary for the exercise of his
calling, and dipped considerably deep into principles, was
able to explain to the former many knotty points which he
had been puzzled to resolve, besides showing him the practical part of surveying, upon which, having gone through
geometry and trigonometry, he had now commenced. Locke,
in return, brought the other his books, which, to the extent
of more than half of them, at least, he had never seen;
and which, being loaned him, he fell to studying with boyish
enthusiasm.  No sooner was this singular companionship
thus fairly established, than our boy-hero was found, every
rainy day, and at other times when he had finished his tasks,
during the summer and fall, posting off on foot to commune
and practise with his gray-headed brother in science. And
when met, the two might have been seen intently engaged
in surveying fields, measuring heights and distances, or
patiently plodding on together in navigation, which they
soon jointly commenced.
This pleasing intercourse, however, was at length brought
to a close by the stormy weather and bad travelling which
immediately preceded the setting-in of winter. And Locke,
bidding his old friiend farewell, took home his books for the
nurpose of resuming his studies in the winter school, for the
beginning of which the time had now arrived. But in this
purpose he was for some time doomed to be disappointed.
For, when the usual time for commencing the school came,
it was found that no teacher had been engaged. The committee, up to this time, had been waiting for applications for
the school, expecting that their only trouble, as usual, would
be in deciding upon a selection of the various applicants.
But it somehow had unaccountably happened, that not a
single application had been made; and the committee were
I.




38               LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
now consequently forced to bestir themselves in going out in
search of a teacher. But in this, also, they were without
success; for, though they found candidates for teaching in
plenty, they could find no one, when they named their particular school, who made not some excuse for not undertaking
to instruct it.  This they thought very strange, as their
school had ever been considered a very orderly one. But as
strange and uncommon as the trouble was, they were compelled to yield to it, and reluctantly give up all thought of
having a school that winter.
Various were the conjectures formed in the district, by
way of accounting for this unexpected failure. Some contended, that the school, after all, must be so unruly that no
teacher would engage in it; others, that the masters had not
been treated with sufficient attention by the inhabitants of
the district; and yet others, that the schoolmasters had
combined to strike for higher wages, and had come to the
determination not to teach till the punished public should
voluntarily come forward, and offer the secretly-fixed prices.
Among all these, and other:sage conjectures of the cause,
however, no one had hit upon the truth. For the true secret
of the misfortune at length leaked out; when the discovery
was made, that Locke Amsden had, in fact, been the innocent
and unconscious cause of the whole of it. lie, it appeared,
besides annoying his own teacher with questions too hard for
him, had also been the means of a similar annoyance to
many other teachers of the neighboring districts. He had
been in the habit, the preceding winter, of frequently attending the evening spelling-schools, which it was customary
for the instructors in that section of the country to appoint
and hold at intervals, through the whole term of their engagements. And at each of these evening schools, which he
thus went abroad to attend, he was sure to propose to one or
two of the best scholars, for answer, some difficult point in




THE SCHOOLMASTER.                  39
grammar, some mathematical question of his own originating, or, as was more generally the case, such as he had
met with in his studies, and was anxious to see explained.
Nearly all these questions, as had been expected, and, indeed,
commonly requested by the mover, were carried for solution
to the master; who, too often, was compelled to resort to
some pitiful evasion to hide his inability to furnish the
required answer.  And the same questions, also, besides
being agitated in the schools into which they were first
introduced, were often communicated to other schools, and
thus became a source of trouble to other masters; so that, in
this way, there was scarcely a teacher, anywhere in the
vicinity, who had not experienced the inconvenience of
Locke's scholarship and inquiring disposition; and most of
them, though they prudently kept the fact to themselves,
fairly wished hin out of the country, and secretly resolved
never to be caught engaging to instruct any school where he
should be a pupil. It appeared, therefore, that the failure
of the committee, before mentioned, was occasioned, not by
there being bad scholars in the school, but good ones; or
rather one, whose aptitude and acquirements had made him
so much the dread of the schoolmasters, with whom the
country then happened to be favored, as effectually to keep
them out of the district.
The disappointment thus occasioned the district, however,
as vexatious as it was to Locke at the time, was, like many
other disappointments in life, of which we are wont to complain, destined, in a short time, to prove a blessing, not only
to him, but to the whole school. For, in a few weeks, an
unforeseen occurrence brought them an instructor well qualifled for his task. This was a senior collegian, who had
returned to spend his last vacation at his father's residence,
in a neighboring  town; and who, on accidentally learning
that the district in question had been unable to supply themt




40               LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
selves with a teacher, from the suspected causes we have
named, was thereby induced to send them word he would
come and instruct their school, if they would give him a
dollar per day and board. To be sure, the very unusual price
demanded by the young man, threatened, for some days, to
prove an insurmountable obstacle to engaging him. The
sum asked, contended the committee, was outrageous, unheard
or, and it was out of all question that they should give it.
But all the larger boys and girls clamored; Locke electioneered as if life and death hung on the event; and his mother,
whose influence was generally felt in the neighborhood, when
she chose to exert it, went round to see other mothers, who,
being either convinced by her arguments in favor of the
cause she had espoused, or tired of having their noisy children any longer at home, beset their husbands to beset the
committee; and the result was, that the committee, unable
to stem the current thus brought to bear against them, started
o, and engaged the young gentleman, whose name was
Seaver, at his own price. The next Mionday morning, to
tile great joy of Locke, he appeared on the ground, and
commenced the duties of his school.
We have said that Mr. Seaver, the instructor now employed, was well qualified for the task he had undertaken;
and in so saying, we meant much more than what extensive
attainments in science and literature, merely, would necessarily imply. He possessed science, indeed, to an eminent
degree; but as is too rarely the case, especially with those
fresh from the schools, he possessed it without any of that
learned quackery of technical terms and unusual words,
which is so often made to shut out knowledge from the
common mind as effectually as the monastic walls of the dark
ages. His language, indeed, on whatever subject employed,
though the most abstruse to be found in the books, was as
simple as that of childhood itself; while, at the same time,




THE SCHOOLTMASTER.                41
he had the happy faculty of putting the minds of all he
addressed, even to the youngest and weakest, at once into
the full possession of his ideas. This, with a good understanding of human nature, — and of human nature, particularly, as developed in the philosophy of the young head
and the young heart, to enable him to know how, when,
and where to interest, incite, check, and control, - together
with a temperament of his own, and a general discrimination
to insure a judicious application of his other faculties, combined to make him that invaluable acquisition to society - a
good schoolmaster; one who, if adequately rewarded, would
do his part in throwing the full light of science, within
the gliding years of half a generation, over the mind of a
nation.
Tile instruction of a teacher of the character we have
just described, was a new thing to Locke Amsden. And it
is needless for us to say, perhaps, how the advantages thus
futrnished him were improved. The first week he spent in
looking up, and obtaining from his teacher, explanations
and- illustrations of all the knotty points which he had left
unmastered in his course of mathematics. When all these
were clearly understood and familiarized to his mind, he
commenlced, in good earnest, his onward progress. Day and
night, almost unceasingly, applying every energy of his
mind, he soon finished what remained yet to be studied of
the ordinary course of mathematics, and thence passed on
into and through physics, or natural philosophy, astronomy,
and even a considerable portion of fluxions, with a rapidity
and comprehension of what he passed over, which perfectly
astonished his instructor; who, unwilling to check him in a
career where he was accomplishing so much which was
important, and which is so often neglected after the pupil is
put upon more seductive studies, had thus far suffered him
to bestow nearly his undivided attention to the branches we
4*




42                LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
have enumerated.  But ias the school drew to a close, that
instructor began to direct the attention of his favorite scholar
to studies which had never, or not so particularly, occupied
his mind.  After a course of delicate questioning, calculated, with one of his turn, to make him keenly feel his own
ignorance, and, at the same time, to furnish incentives to
action, the former opened to the wondering and longing view
of the latter the necessity and advantage of exploring other
departments in the wide field of learning. And, fired with
new zeal at the prospect, our young aspirant, as he was thus
made to see before him
"Alps on Alps arise,"
now became doubly ambitious to mount their glittering
steeps. But the close of the school, which was now at hand,
precluded all opportunity, for the present at least, of entering
upon this glorious field of exertion; and, with peculiar regret
and sorrow, he was compelled to bid adieu to his beloved
instructor, relinquish study, and return to the labors of the
farm.
After the termination of this school, Locke found himself
in a different situation from what he had ever been in before,
at least, since he had begun the work of self-education. The
books which had been presented him by the kind strangers -
around whose fondly-remembered images, fancy, as he grew
older, was daily throwing a more romantic interest - had all
been studied, and their contents mastered; and, as he was
unable to procure others upon those branches which he next
wished to peruse, he now found himself without any food
for his hungering mind, or at least such as would satisfy a
mind like his, whose desires, instead of being appeased, were
now tenfold increased. And from this state of unsatisfiecd
longings, witlhout employment for his mental energies in the
present, and without hope to encourage him to look forward




THE SCHOOLMASTER.                   43
with certainty to any period when his inclinations could be
gratified in the fixture, fancy began to obtrude her illusive
creations into those chambers of thoughilt which before had
been devoted to the operations of reason.  He became
absent, moody, and despondent, and was fast falling a prey to
a morbid imagination - a malady than which, for strong and
sensitive minds, nothing scarcely is more to be dreaded; for
" Woe to the youth whom Fancy gains,
Winning from Reason's hainds the reins;
Pity and woe for such a mind
Is soft, contemplative, and kind."
In vain did his father attempt to rouse him from his almost
continual reverie - in vain attempt to repress those secret
desires which he well knew to be the leading cause of his
abstraction, and awalen an interest for business.  But he
little understood the nature of the mind he attempted to
control; for as well may we attempt to chain the lightnings
of heaven, as the soul really thirsting after knowledge. Such
a mind may be thwarted, chilled, ruined; but it can never be
so far restrained as to be moulded to other purposes, at least
till opportunity be allowed for its ruling desires to become,
in some good degree, sated. The father, wholly filing, at
length gave up the attempt in vexation and despair; but
another, who better understood the nature of the mind thus
diseased, and the only remedies which could effect its cure,
now undertook the task, and was successful.
One evenin', as Locke sat alone in an open window,
vacantly, and in moody thoughtfulness, gazing out at the
rising moon, or the stars that were fading in her overpowering beams, his mother gently approached, and took a
seat by his side.
" Locke," said she, in kind and gentle tones, after sitting a
moment without appearing to attract the attention of the




4'-               LOCKE AMSDEM, OR
other, "6 Locke, your father complains that you are unusually
inattentive to business, this summer."
"Complains? Well, he is always complaining of me- I
can do nothing right; but brother Benjamin —he can do
nothing wrong."
" It is possible, indeed, that you may sometimes get more
censure than you should, and your brother more praise than
he deserves, in the contrast which one of your father's turn
would naturally draw between you. But still, Locke, I fear
you have given too much cause for these complaints. I have
myself often noted your neglect and heedlessness; and I
now put it to your own conscience, my son, whether such a
course is right, - is justifiable, in you? "
6; Perhaps I may sometimes do wrong, in these respects,
though it is not because I am unwilling to work - to do
right. But you know how anxious I am to study, and may
be, I think too much about that, to be as quick and ready as
some. Still, I cannot help it; I have almost every thing
yet to learn, and I must know, 0 mother, I must know!"
"I see, Locke, that your whole heart is set on being a
great scholar. But scholarship alone, my son, will never
make you truly great or happy. It is not the one thing
needful; it brings not the pearl of great price. It may,
indeed, bring you, as I once read in the works of some poet,
"The world's applause, perhaps the prince's smile,
And flattery's pois'nous potions, smooth as oil;
The poet's laurel, or the victor's palm;
Bat not one drop of Gilead's precious balmn."
"s I have often heard you speak of religion, mother, and I
have never denied its importance; but I have never before
heard you speak in this manner of learning. You surely do
not hold it so lightly as one might think from what you have
just said, do you? "




THE SCHOOLMASTER.                 45
"I hold it lightly only, my son, when compared with the
things of heaven. It would be my highest ambition to see
you, as you enter life, a religious and an educated man."
"Why, then, mother, are you not willing I should be
allowed an opportunity to obtain an education?"
"4 a1m, Locke - I am willing - even desirous; but such
an education as I fear our means would be sufficient to afford
you, would not, I suppose, satisfy you. And yet, seeing
how much your mind is set upon it, I have lately been
thinking, thtat something might, and perhaps should now, be
done for you. If a year to a good academy would serve
your purpose.- 
"A whole year, mother!"
"Yes."
" Oh! if I could go a whole year!  But father would
never consent to it."
"Judge not too hastily, Locke; perhaps he will consent
to it. Your brot-her has grown to a lusty and active boy,
and you might now be much better spared; that is, after the
present work-season is over. And that is as soont as I shall
be able to fit you out with the necessary clothing. But
suppose, Locke, I should try to intercede with your father
for you, would you take hold of business as you ought, till
after harvesting?"
"I would try, mother; and if you will bring father to the
promise, I think - indeed, I know - that neither he or you
shall have reason to complain of me any more."
" Well, then, umy son, go to your rest now, and get up in
the morning with a cheerful look, and go to your business
like a man with his senses about him; and, within a few days,
we will see what can be done."
Locke did as his mother had advised; and, two days afterwards, his father made the glad announcement of the permisn




&4-6              LOCKE AMISDEN,  OR
sion which his mother had encouraged him to hope would bo
granted him.
From that day, Locke was a new creature. As happy as
the lark, with which he rose in the morning, he cheerfully
and diligently toiled through the day; giving his undivided
attention to any and every kind of work upon which he was
requested to engage.  So complete a revolution in the business character of his son was the cause of muchl wonder to
r1A. Amsden, who had predicted, that the permission he had
given him to go abroad to school in the fall, instead of
diminishing, would so increase the faults of which he colplained, as entirely to spoil him for business; little dreaming,
that his own conduct, in trying to repress his son's overpowering inclinations for study, had more than all else
contributed to bring him into that state of' mental abstraction
and despondency, from which, through his mother's influonce, he had been so timely rescued, by the only means,
probably, thatt could ever have proved availing.
In this manner passed away the summer season; and the
happy period, which was to reward Locke for his toils, at
length approached. As the time drew near, M'[r. Amsden,
although his strict regard for his word forbade all thought of
breaking his promise to his son, began, nevertheless, to feel
a great reluctance at parting with him.  And when he
thought of the efficient help which the boy had rendered him
through most of the season, at which he had been both gratified and profited, he could not forbear, by various favorable
offers, to try to temnpt the other to remain. It was, however,
all in vain; for Locke, steady to his unalterable purpose,
would listen to nothing short of the promised year's opportunity for study. And when the day fixed for his departure
arrived, ihe packed up his books and scanty wardrobe, and,
bidding the family adieu, set out on foot, with a light heart,




THE S CO OLMASTER.                  47
for the village where the academy at which he proposed to
pursue his studies was located. A little more than a day's
walk brought him to his destination, when, to his great joy,
he found the institution under the charge of his old teacher,
Seaver, who, a month or two previous, at the close of his
collegiate career, had been engaged as a permanent preceptor.
It is not our purpose to follow our hero in his course of
studies through the year that now succeeded.  Suffice it to
scay, that, by the advice of his preceptor, he devoted his time
chiefly to the acquisition of the Lactin and Greek languages,
reserving, however, certain hours of the day, and such times
as others generally spent in recreations, to the study of his
own language, and such of the higher branches of English
education as he had never had an opportunity of acquiring.
Having, in his previous course of self-education, been accustoined to depend almost wholly on his own energies for the
successful prosecution of his studies, he relaxed nothing from
his mental habits here; and the result was, as it will ever be
with those who do the like, that altlough he consulted his
teacher, perhaps, less than any one in school, he yet outstripped them all in tile rapidity of his progress. And as he
was about to leave the institution, at the end of the year, lihe
had the satisfaction of receiving from his venerated instructor
the flattering encomium, that he had never known so great
an amount of knowledge acquired by any individual in so
short a period.
After the close of his year at the academy, young Amsden,
who had now shot up into the usual proportions of manhood,
returned to his father's with the intention of commencing a
vocation to which he had long looked forward with pleasing
solicitude - that of imparting to others the knowledge which
had afforded him  so much happiness in acquiring:  For,




48                 LOCKE AMiSDEN.
from his childhood upward, he had heard no one employment
so much lauded for honor and usefulness, as that of an
instructor of youth; he had seen the saame idea reiterated
by the most celebrated of authors; and he had not yet learned,
that the world too often applaud most what their practice
shows they hold in the least estimation.




CHAPTER III.
6The little knowledge he had gain'd,
WYas all from simple nature drain'd."
GAY.
IT was late in the season when our hero returned home;
and having inadvertently omitted to apprise his friends of his
intention to engage himself as a teacher of some of the
winter schools in the vicinity of his father's residence, he
found, on his arrival, every situation to which his undoubted
qualifications should prompt him  to aspire, already occupied by others.  He was therefore compelled, unless he
relinquished his purpose, to listen to the less eligible offers
which came from such smaller and mlore backward districts
or societies as had not engaged their instructors for the winter.  One of these he was on the point of deciding to accept,
when he received information of a district where the master,
from some cause or other, had been dismissed during the first
week of his engagement, and where the committee were now
in search of another to supply his place.  The district from
which this information came, was situated in one of the
mountain towns about a dozen miles distant, and the particular neighborhood of its location was known in the vicinity, to
a considerable extent, by the name of the Isiorn of the Ml3oon;
an appellation generally understood to be derived from a peculiar curvature of a mountain that partially enclosed the place.
KInowing nothing of the causes which had here led to the
recent dismissal of the teacher, nor indeed of the particular
character of the school, furtber than that it was a large one,
and one, probablyv which_ though in rather a new part of the




50                LOCKE AMSSDEN, OR
country, would yet furnish something like an adequate remul.
neration to a good instructor, Locke had no hesitation in
deciding to mnake an immediate application for the situation.
Accordingly, the next morning he mounted a horse, and set
out for the place in question.
It was a mild December's day; the ground had not yet
assumed its winter covering, and the route taken by our hero
becoming soon bordered on either side by wild and picturesque mountain scenery, upon which he had ever delighted
" To look from nature up to.nature's God,"
the excursion in going was a pleasant one. And occupied
by the reflections thus occasioned, together with anticipations
of happy results from his expected engagement, he arrived,
after a ride of a few hours, at the borders of the romanticlooking place of which he was in quest.
At this point in his journey, he overtook a man on foot, of
whom, after discovering him to belong somewhere in the
neighborhood, he proceeded to make some inquiries relative
to the situation of the school.
"' Why," replied the man, " as I live out there in the tip
of the Horn, which is, of course, at the outer edge of the
district, I know but little about the school affairs; but one
thing is certain, they have shipped the master, and want to
get another, I suppose."
" For what cause was the master dismissed? For lack of
qualifications?"
Yes, lack of qualifications for our district. The fellow,
however, had learnin g enough, as all agreed, but no spunk;
and the young Bunkers, and some others of the big boys,
mistrusting this, and being a little riled at some things he
had said to them, took it into their heads to train him a
little, which they did; when he, instead of showing any grit
on the occasion, got frightened and cleared out."




THE SC IOOL3IASTER.                  51
"Why, sir, did his scholars offer him personal violence? "
"0 no -- not violence. They took him up quite carefully,
bound him on to a plank, as I understood, and carried him on
their shoulders, in a sort of procession, three times around
the schoolhouse, and then, unloosing him, told him to go at
his business again."
And was all this suffered to take place without any interference from your committee? "
" Yes, our committee-man would not interfere in such a
case. A master must fightlt his own way in our district."
" Who is your committee, sir?"
"Captain Bill Bunker is now. They had a meeting after
the fracas, and chose a new one."
"Is he a man who is capable of ascertaining for himself
the qualifications of a teacher?"
"0 yes -  at least I had as lief have Bill Bunker's judgment of a man who applied for the school as any other in
the district; and yet he is the only man in the whole district
but what can read and write, I believe."
"Your school colmmittee not able to read and write?"
" Not a word, and still he does more business than any
man in this neighborhood.  Why, sir, he keeps a sort of
store, sells to A., B., and C., and charges on book in a fashion
of his own; and I would as soon trust to his book as that of
any regular merchant in the country; though, to be sure, he
has got into a jumble, I hear, about some charges against a
man at'tother end of the Horn, and they are having a court
about it to-day at Bunker's house, I understand."
"Where does le live?"
(Right on the road, about a mile ahead. You will see his
name chalked on a sort of a shop-looking building, which he
uses for a store."
The man here turned off from the road, leaving our hero
so much surprised and staggered at what he had just heard,




52                LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
not only of the general character of the school of which he
had come to propose himself as a teacher, but of the man
who now had the control of it, that he drew up the reins,
stopped his horse in the road, and sat hesitating some moments whether he would go back or forward. It occurring
to him, however, that he could do as he liked about accepting
any offer of the place which might be made him, and feeling,
moreover, some curiosity to see how a man who could neither
read nor write would manage in capacity of an examining
school committee, he resolved to go forward, and present
himself as a candidate for the school. Accordingly, he rode
on, and soon reached a rough-built, but substantial-looking
farm-house, with sundry out-buildings, on one of which he
read, as he had been told he miglht, the name of the singular
occupant. In the last-named building, he at once perceived
that there was a gathering of quite a number of individuals,
the nature of which was explained to him by the hint he had
received from his informant on the road.  And tying his
horseshe joined several who were going in, and soon found
himself in the midst of the company assembled in the low,
unfinished room which constituted the interior, as parties,
witnesses, and spectators of a justice's court, the ceremonies
of which were about to be commenced.  There were ano
counters, counting-roomn  or desk; and a few broad shelves,
clumsily put up on one side, afforded the only indication,
observable in the interior arrangement of the room, of the
use to which it was devoted.  On these shelves were scattered, at intervals, small bunches of hoes, axes, bed-cords,
and such articles as are generally purchased by those who
purchase little; while casks of nails, grindstones, quintals of
dried salt fish, and the like, arranged round the room on the
floor, made up the rest of the owner's merchandise, an
annual supply of which, it appeared, he obtained in the cities
every winter in exchbange for the products of his farm; eveir




THE SCHOOTLMASTER.                 53
careful, like a good political economist, that the balance of
trade should not be against him. The only table and chair
in the room were now occupied by the justice; the heads of
casks, grindstones, or bunches of rakes, answering for seats
for the rest of the company. On the left of the justice sat
the defendant, whose composed look, and occasional knowing
smile, seemed to indicate his confidence in the strength of
his defence, as well as a consciousness of possessing some
secret advantage over his opponent.  On the other hand sat
Bunker, the plaintiff in the suit.  Ascertaining from the
remarks of the bystanders his identity with the committeeman he had become so curious to see, Loclke fell to noting
his appearance closely, and the result was, upon the whole, a
highly favorable prepossession.  lie was a remarkably stout,
hardy-looking man; and although his features were extremely
rough and swarthy, they yet combined to give him an open,
honest, and very intelligent countenance. Behind him, as
backers, were standing in a group three or four of his sons,
of ages varying from fifteen to twenty, and of bodily proportions promising any thing but disparagement to the Herculean
stock from which they originated. The parties were now
called and swvorn; when Bunker, there being no attorneys
employed to make two-hour speeches on preliminary questions, proceeded at once to the merits of his case.  He
produced and spread open his account-book, and then went
on to show his manner of charging, which was wholly by
hieroglyphics, generally designating the debtor by picturing
him out at the top of the page with some peculiarity of his
person or calling. In the present case, the debtor, who was
a cooper, was designated by the rude picture of a man in the
act of hooping a barrel; and the article charged, there being
but one item in the account, was placed immediately beneath,
and represented by a shaded, circular figure, which the plain5*




54                LOCKE ABMSDEN,  OR
tiff said was intended for a cheese, that had been sold to the
defendant some years before.'" 2ow, AMr. Justice," said Bunker, after explaining, in a
direct, off-hand manner, his peculiar method of book-keeping,
C" now, the article here charged the malln had -I will, and do
swear to it; for here it is in black and white. And I having
demanded my pay, and he having not only refused it, but
denied ever buying the article in question, I have brought
this suit to recover my just due. And now I wish to see if
he will get up here in court, and deny the charge under oath.
If he will, let him; but may the Lord have mercy on his
soul "I' "Well sir," replied the defendant, promptly rising, " you
shall not be kept from having your wish a iminute; for I
here, under oath, do swear, that I never bou0ght or had a
cheese of you in my life."
"Under the oath of God you declare it, do you? " sharply
asked Bunker.
I" do, sir," firmly answered the other.
" Well, well! " exclaimed the former, with looks of utter
astonishment, " I would not have believed that there was a
man in all of the Horn of the Aloon who would dare to do
that."
After the parties had been indulged in the usual amount
of sparring for such occasions, the justice interposed and
suggested, that as the oaths of the parties were at complete
issue, the evidence of the book itself, which he seemed to
think was entitled to credit, would turn the scale in favor of
the plaintiff, unless the defendant could produce some rebutting testimony. Upon this hint, the latter called up two of his
neighbors, who testified in his behalf, that he himself always
made a sufficient supply of cheese for his family; and
they were further knowing, that, on the year of the alleged




TItE SCI-IOOLi;IASTER.              55
purchase, instead of buying, he actually sold a considerable
quanitity of the, article.
This evidence seemed to settle the question in the mind of
the justice; and he now soon announced, that he felt bound
to give judgment to the defendant for his costs.
"Judged and sworn out of the whole of it, as I am a sinner i " cried the disconcerted Bunker, after sitting a moment
working his rough features in indignant surprise; "yes,
fairly sworn out of it, and saddled with a bill of cost to boot!
But i can pay it; so reckon it up,,'r. Justice, and we will
have it all squared on the spot. And, on tile whole, I an
not so sure but a dollar or two is well spent, at any time, in
finding  out a fellow to be a scoundrel who has been passing
himself off among people for an honest man," he added,
pulling out'his purse, and angrlily dashing the required
amount down upon the table.
"6 NOW, Bill Bunker," said the defendant, after very coolly
poclketing ll his costs7 "you have flung out a good deal of your
stuff here, and I have bore it without getting riled a hair;
for I saw, all the time, that you - correct as folks ginerally
think you - that you did n't know what you was about. But
now it's all fixed tand settled, I am going jist to convince you
that II aml  not quite the one that has sworn to a perjury in
this'ere business."
"' Well, we will see," rejoined Bunker, eying his opponent
with a look of mingled doubt and defiance.
"Yes, we will see," responded the other, determinedly;
"we will see if we can't make you eat your own words.
But I want first to tell you where you missed it. When you
d&:nned me, Bunker, for the pay for a cheese, and I said I
never had one of you, you went off a little too quick; you
called me a liar, before giving me a chance to say another
word. And then, I thought I would let you take your own
course, till you took that name back. If you had held on a




56               LOCKE AMISDEN, OR
minute, without breaJking out so upon me, I should have told
you all how it was, and you would have got your pay on the
spot; but  -"
"Pay!" fiercely interrupted Bunker, " then you admit
you had the cheese, do you? "
"No, sir, I admit no sicl thing," quickly rejoined the
former; "for I still say I never had a cheese of you in the
world. But I did have a small grindstone of you at the
time, and at jest the price you have charged for your supposed cheese; and here is your money for it, sir. Now,
Bunker, what do you say to that? "
"Grindstone - cheese - cheese - grindstone!" exclaimed
the now evidently nonplussed and doubtful Bunker, taking a
few rapid turns about the room, and occasionally stopping at
the table to scrutinize anew his hieroglyphical charge; "' I
must think this matter over again. Grindstone - cheese -
cheese - grindstone. Ah! I have it; but may God forgive
me for what I have done! It was a grindstone, but I forgot
to make a hole in the middle for the crank."
Upon this curious development, as will be readily imagined, the opposing parties were not long in effecting an
amicable and satisfactory adjustment. And, in a short time,
the company broke up and departed, all obviously as much
gratified as amused at this singular but happy result of the
lawsuit.
As soon as all had left the room but Bunker and his sons,
Locke, perceiving that the others now seemed to expect an
announcement of his business, at once proceeded to make
known the object of his visit.
"Ahli, indeed! " said Bunker, in surprise, as he keenly ran
his eye over the rather slight proportions of the other.
" Why, I had supposed, all the while, that you were some
young sprig of the law, who had scented out our foolish little
quarrel here from a distance, and had come to see whether




THE SCHIOOLMASTE R.               57
the court, like the monkey judge in the fible, would work up
all the cheese himself, or leave enough to afford a nibble to a
lawyer. But have you really come to offer yourself as a
master for such a school as ours? "
"I came for that purpose, sir," replied Locke; "and I
trust to be found qualified for the situation. I have brought
with me a certificate of qualifications; and further, I am
very willing to be examined personally by yourself and
others."
"I have been examining you, for some minutes, with my
eyes," said the other, " and that is a way of examining masters, for our school at least, which is more necessary than
you may imagine. You may have learning enough for us,
perhaps; but the question first to be decided is, whether you
will be equal to managing our rough boys in the mountains
here."
The two largest boys, who had stood in a corner glancing
at the person of our hero with a sort of contemptuous twinkling of their eyes, now whispered together, and giggled
outrighllt, apparently at the thought that such a fellow should
ever attempt to give them a thrashing; for they had always
been so accustomed to associate schoolmasters with thrashings, that they never thought of the former without the
accompanying idea of the latter.
" Boys," resumed Bunker, " do you know what Josh
Bemus intends doing this winter. I have been thinking, for
a day or two past, that he probably would have about enough
of the tiger in him to make you a very suitable master, if he
could be had. You have had king log, and trod upon him;
and now, if you don't get king stork, it wont be because you
don't deserve it."
"c You will hardly get Josh, I think," replied one of the
boys. "He told me, at the turkey-shooting last week, that
he had engaged to tend horses this winter at the stage-tavern




58                LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
down on Roaring River, because he rather do it than keep
school."
" Tell, every one for his taste," said Bunker, laughing.
"  suppose Josh is not a fellow that would take much pleasure in a thinking life; though, as he has succeeded in subduing one or two unruly schools, I had thought of him for
ours. But as that is now out of the question, and as I can
hear of no other person who will do, I think we may as well
examine into this gentleman's qualifications, now he has
applied for the school."
" I have but little hope, sir, that I shall be considered a
proper teacher of your district," observed Locke, who had
become so much disconcerted by the ominous conduct of the
boys, and the remarks of their father of a similar significance,
that he now began to think of beating a retreat. " I cannot
be the person you want, I think, from what I gather from
your observations; and therefore we may as well drop the
subject at once, perhaps."
"' 0, I don't know about that, sir," rejoined Bunker. "You
look hardly equal to the task, be sure; but there is considerable snap in those black eyes of yours, I see. I have seen
several fellows, in my time, of as little bodily show as you,
who turned out to be a match for any thing when called to
act. And I should not be surprised if you should prove to
be one of the same kidney. Boys," he continued, turning to
his sons, "you know how sadly you all got disappointed in
that little, feeble-looking master of yours last winter. You
calculated, when he began his school, that you should be able
to control him as you pleased; but you soon found you had
reckoned without your host, I believe."
" Well, he was a mean scamp, for all that," replied the
oldest boy; " and we should have shipped him, at one time,
if some of the boys had not fiummuxed from the agreement.
For he deserved it enough, and no mistake.  Only think!




THE SCOOLM00ASTER.                59
Re made a rule, that every one who did not get into the
school-house as soon as he did, after our play-spell at noon,
should take a ferruling. And then what does he do but join
us in sliding down hill on a hand-sled; and when we got
warm at it, and just as a great load of us, he and all, had got
under weigh and could n't stop, off he jumps, gives the sled
a kick, and cuts and runs for the school-house, which he
reached first, of course; and we had to be ferruled for
breaking the rule. Now, you know, father, that was n't a
fair shake, and he ought to have been walloped for it; and
the boys were sneaks, that they had not stood by us, when
we tried, the next dcay, to turn the tables on him   ~"
"As he had first done. on you, for some previous trick,
eigh?" interrupted the former. "You have generally had
strange doings in school, both by scholars and teachers, we
all know; but now they have put me in committee, I intend
to look after you a little myself. Now, sir," he added, again
turning to Locke, " now, sir, we will come back to your case,
if you please - what will be your price a month, and
boarded? "
"Fifteen dollars."
" WJe gave but fourteen last winter, and the master could
manage such a set of fellows as ours, too. The district will
never consent to rise on that price. Can't you fall a dollar?"
"Perhaps I might, if I could make up my mind to undertake your school."
"MfLake up your mind! why, you offered yourself; and
you did not come to trifle with me, did you? "
" Certainly not."
"' Well, wait then till we have thought and talked this
business all out. Don't get frightened before you are hurt.
You may think better of some of us before we get through.
But there is another thing: our district require a master to
teach all the working days in the month, and not twenty-two




60               LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
days, as you masters generally make a month - would you
consent to that? 
"Perhaps I should not be disposed to quarrel with you,
even on that point, if I were to take your school."
r"Very well. So then we can agree upon the terms, I
see," said Bunker.' Now, for the main question - do you
know any thing?"
"I trust so, sir," said Locke, hardly knowing yet what to
make of the man, "I trust so. Here is a certificate from
my late preceptor - will you hear it read? "
c" No," replied the other, " I should place no dependence
on any tiling of that sort. Every one who goes to an academy gets a certificate, if he wants one, I have noticed; while
not one in three, who go there, are fit for teachers. So you
see, that there is more than an even chance that we get
cheated, when we take a man on certificate. Why, how, sir,
could a preceptor know whether you could govern a school,
when you had never tried it? And how could he certify,
that you had a faculty to teach in a school that neither of
you had ever seen, where every scholar, perhaps, would
require the application of a different method, before he could
be brought to learn any thing worth mentioning?"
"I [ offered the paper only to show my acquirements —
that I understood all the sciences taught in common schools,"
said Locke in reply.
" O, I presume you have gone over enough of what is put
down in the books," resumed the other. "But how can I
tell, from your recommendation, whether you can think for
yourself, independent of your books; and what is more for a
teacher, whether you can teach others to think for themBelves?  Why, sir, I have known many a fellow returned
from an academy, and even a college, who had no more ideas
of his own than a blue jay. And besides that, his brains
were so trammeled by rules, &c. that there was little pros



TIHE SCHIOOLMASTER.               61
pect of his ever bettering his condition. Now, the main
object of education should be, in my opinion, to teach men
to think, and not depend upon books for every thing to be
known. Now, here is the great book of nature open before
us, full of every kind of knowledge for those who can think.
Then, don't you see the advantage which a man who can
read that has over one who can only read the books of men,
which are so liable to contain errors? "
"I certainly agree with you in much you have said,
sir; but if you intend to say that book learning, as you
would term it, is useless, I must wholly dissent," observed
Locke.
" I don't say or think so," said Bunker.  "No, it gives
one great advantages in knowing what others in different
parts of the world have found out, and may be, if rightly
used and understood, a great help to him in thinking and
making discoveries for himself. No, I don't think so of
learning;, for I am half bothered to death for the want of it,
myself, as you have to-day seen. And all I want of you is,
to find out whether you have it; and, if so, whether it has
made you a good thinker, and one who can teach others to
be so, as well as to teach them the books."
" Very well, sir," responded the other, " I am quite willing
you should satisfy yourself, and in your own way."
" I will," replied Bunker. " And first, let us see how you
stand in arithmetic.  What will twenty-seven multiplied by
twenty-three produce?  Don't look round for a slate or
paper, but work it out in your head, as I do all my reckoning,."
This sum, as soon as the answer was given by the one and
pronounced correct by the other, was followed by more questions in each of the other fundamental rules of the science
under consideration. Then came questions requiring, first,
the aid of two of these rules, then three, then all, each
6




62               LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
question being more difficult and complex, till the whole
ground-work of common arithmetic was passed over by the
questioner; in all of which he showed himself a proficient in
mental arithmetic to a degree that perfectly astonished our
hero, who, though he was, from his former habits of working
sums in his head while at work, uncommonly ready at this
exercise, was yet often put to his best powers in furnishing
answers as soon as they were obtained by the proposer.
"Well, well, young man," said Bunker, with a look of
approbation, as he brought his questions in this branch to a
close, " it is not every one that can do what you have done.
But we will now see if you can do as well in other matters.
W~e will take geography, which I rank next to arithmetic in
usefulness. Boys, will one of you step into the house, and
bring us my maps?"
The boy despatched soon returned with a full and valuable
set of maps, with which, to the surprise of Locke, the owner
soon showed himself perfectly familiar; he, it appeared,
having purchased them, some years before, for himself and
children, with whom he had studied them, always keeping a
boy by his side, when thus occupied, to read him the names
of rivers, lakes, &c., as, one by one, he traced out each on
the map with his finger, till he had mastered the whole.
A thorough and critical examination was now commenced,
and, for some time, carried on by Bunker, in a series of novel
and ingenious questions, well calculated to detect ally deficiency in the examined.
"Very well, very well, sir," said the interrogator, good
humoredly, as he finished this part of his examination, " I
don't see but what you understand geography nearly as well
as a man who can neither read nor write. There is one
general question more, however, that I will ask you -which
do you call the largest river in the world? "
"' The Amazon is so accounted," replied the other.




THE SCHOOLMASTER.                 63
"Yes, I know it is so laid down in the books; but do you
think it so yourself? "
"I had supposed that to be the case, sir."
"Why?"
"Because it discharges the most water in a given time."
"You have got hold of the right manner of testing it, if
it was only capable of being reduced to practice; andt what
you assert of this river may be a fact; but the question is,
how it can be ascertained."
"Why, sir, it is the widest river, certainly."
"Widest!  There again is one of your book rules, and
see where it will land you, sir! Don't these fools of bookmakers know, that one river may be twice as deep, and run
twice as fast as another; and consequently, that one river of
a mile wide may discharge as much water as another of
double that width, in the same time? 9"
1" I had concluded that all these circumstances had been
taken into the account, when comparing the size of this river
with that of the Mississippi, or other large rivers, before the
fact in question was put down as established."
" Some guess-work of the kind may have been had on the
subject, probably enough. But that is all; for do you suppose anybody has ever measured the depth or swiftness of the
currents of these rivers?  No! Why, it would take a board
of engineers two years, and at the cost of millions, to do this
with any accuracy. They would have to go, foot by foot,
through the constantly-varying currents from one side to the
other; and even then, how would they ascertain whether the
water at the surface did not move twice as fast as at the bottom? No, sir, this never was or will be done. We must
depend on other methods for ascertaining facts of this kind."
"What other method would you then propose? "
"Why, I have been able to think of no method so good as
to ascertain the number of square miles which is drained by




64                LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
a river whose comparative size you wish to know; and when
the quantity of surface thus drained is found, take another
river, find the surface that drains also, compare the results,
and you have the relative size of the two. Now here is a
very simple method, which I practise for this purpose," continued the speaker, spreading open the maps of North and
South Amei'ica. "Both these are! on the same scale, you
see. lNow I will place this piece of white paper over that
part of South America which is drained by the Amazon, and
then cut it down with the scissors, so that its outline shall
just cover the extreme points, or sources of all the tributaries of this great river. Then we will cut the paper, thus
made to represent the required surface on the same scale
with the map, into triangles, or such other figures as can be
put together again in some square shape, for measurement in
square miles. In this manner, if the map be correct, you
get the surface drained by the Amazon. You then can go
througlh the same operation with the KMississippi, obtain your
result, compare it with that of the former, and you will have
the difference between the sizes of these two king-rivers of
the new world. And whenever you do it, you will find that
difference much less than is generally supposed; you will
find that our 3iississippi of a mile wide, when it meets the
tide-waters, is more than three-fourths as large as the mighty
Amazon, which is put down in the books to be fiom fifty to
one hundred and eighty miles wide at its mouth. And if the
maps could be corrected, so as to show the exact truth, I am
not so sure but one would be found as large as the other."
"Your method is new to me, Mr. Bunker," observed
Locke, "' and I shall probably be indebted to you for a new
idea. I will think of it."
"Ay, think - that's the way to get true knowledge."
"Have you any questions to ask me in the other branches,
sir?"




THEI SCHOOLMASTER.                 6.5
"Not many. There is reading, writing, grammar, &c.,
which I know nothing about; and as to them, I must, of
course, take you by guess, which will not be much of a guess,
after all, if I find you have thought well on all other mat~
ters.  Do you understand philosophy?  It is not often
required of our common schoolmasters, I know, but it is a
grand thing for them to understand something of it; for then
they will naturally, on a thousand occasions, be putting new
ideas into the heads of their scholars, and in that way set
them to thinking for themselves."
"To what branch of philosophy do you allude, sir?"
"To the only branch there is."
"But you are aware, that philosophy is divided into different kinds, as natural, moral, and intellectual? "
Nonsense! philosophy is philosophy, and means the
study of the reasons and causes of the things which we see,
whether it be applied to a crazy man's dreams, or the roasting
of potatoes. Have you attended to it?"
"Yes, to a considerable extent, sir."
" I will put a question or two, then, if you please. -aW-hat
is the reason of the fact, for it is a fact, that the damp breath
of a person blown on to a good knife, and on to a bad one,
will soonest disappear from the well-tempered blade? "
" It may be owing to the difference in the polish of the
two blades, perhaps," replied Locke.
"6 Ah i taat is an answer that don't go deeper than the surface," rejoined Bunker, humorously. " As good a thinker as
you evidently are, you have not thought of this subject, I
suspect. It took me a week, in all, I presume, of hard
thinking, and making experiments at a blacksmith's shop, to
discover the reason of this. It is not the polish; for take
two blades of equal polish, and the breath will disappear
from one as much quicker than it does from the other, as the
blade is better. It is because the material of the blade is
6*




66                LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
more compact, or less porous, in one case than in the others
In the first place, I ascertained that steel was made more
compact by being hammered and tempered, and that the
better it was tempered, the more compact it would become;
thie size of the pores being made, of course, less in the same
proportion. }Well, then, I saw the reason I was in search
of, at once. For we know a wet sponge is longer in drying
than a wet piece of green wood, because the pores of the first
are bigger. A  seasoned or shrunk piece of wood dries
quicker than a green one, for the same reason. Or you
might bore a piece of wood with large gimblet holes, and
another with small ones, fill them both with water, and let
them stand till the water evaporated, and the difference of
time it would take to do this, would make the case still more
plain.  So with the blades; the wet or vapor lingers longest
on the worst wrought and tempered one, because the pores,
being larger, take in more of the wet particles, and require
more time in drying."
" Your theory is at least a very ingenious one," observed
Locke, " and I am reminded by it of another of the natural
phenomena, of the true explanation of which I have not
been able to satisfy myself. It is this: what makes the
earth freeze harder and deeper under a trodden path than
the untrodden earth around it. All that I have asked, say
it is because the trodden earth is more compact. But is that
reason a sufficient one? "
" No," said Bunker, "but I will tell you what the reason
is; for I thought that out long ago..You know that, in the
freezing months, much of the warmth we get is given out by
the earth, from which, at intervals, if not constantly, to some
extent, ascend the warm vapors to mingle with and moderate
the cold atmosphere above. Now those ascending streams
of warm air would be almost wholly obstructed by the com.
pactness of a trodden path, and they would naturally divide




THE SCHOOLMIASTER.                 67
at some distance below it, and pass up through the loose
earth on each side, leaving -the ground along the line of the
path, to a great depth beneath it, a cold, dead mass, through
which the frost would continue to penetrate, unchecked by
the internal heat, which, in its unobstructed ascent on each
side, would be continually checking or overcoming the frost
in its action on the earth around. That, sir, is the true philosophy of the case, you may depend upon it. But now let
me ask you a question - and it shall be the last one - a
question which, perhaps, you may think a trifling one, but
which, for all that, is full of meaning. What is the truest
sign by which you can judge of the coming weather  "
"The quantity of dew that has fallen the night before, or
that is then falling, if it be evening and the prognostic is
required for the next day," replied the other.'At least I
have never noticed any better criterion."
"'That is an old rule, and a good one, I grant you,"
remalked Bunker; "but not so curious and unfailing as
another which 1, some time ago, began to observe."
" What may that be, sir?"
W' hy, this, when you wish to know what the weather is
going to be, just go out, and select the smallest cloud you can
see, keep your eye upon it, and if it decreases and disappears, it shows a state of the air which will be sure to be
followed by fair weather; but if it increases, you may as
well take your great coat with you, if you are going from
home, for falling weather will not be far off."
"That is, indeed, a curious and interesting fact in meteorology," responded Locke, " and I can readily see the reason
why the indication should generally, at least, hold good."
" And what is that reason? " asked Bunker, with interest,
"Why, it is resolvable into electric phenomenon, I suspect," answered the former.  "Whenever the air is becoming charged with electricity, you will see every cloud




68                LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
attracting all less ones towards it, till it gathers into a shower.
And, on the contrary, when this fluid is passing of or diffusing itself, even a large cloud will be seen breaking to
pieces and dissolving."
"c Right, sir!  " cried Bunker; "you are a thinker, and no
mistake. And let me tell you, there's more depending on
that same electricity than your book philosophers dream of.
I am pretty well satisfied, that not only our dry seasons and
our wet ones, our cold seasons and our warm ones, are caused
by some variation in the state of the electric fluid, but that
our epidemical diseases, and a thousand other things that we
cannot account for, are to be attributed to the samne cause.
But we will now drop the discussion of these matters; for
Iam abundcantly satisfied, that you have not only knowledge
enough, but that you can think for yourself. And now, sir,
all I wish to know further about you is, whether you canl
teach others to think, which is half the battle with a teacher.
But as I have had an eye on this point, while attending to
the others, probably one experiment, which I will put upon
you to make on one of the boys here, will be all I shall
wan1t."
"Proceed, sir," said the other.
"' Ay, sir," rejoined Bunker, turning to the open fire-place,
in which t'he burning wood was sending up a column of
smoke; "there you see that smoke rising, don't you?. Well,
you and I know the reason why smoke goes upward, but my
youngest boy don't, I rather think. Now take your own
way, and see if you can make him clearly understand it."
Locke, after a moment's reflection and a glance round the
room for something to serve for apparatus, took from a shelf,
where he had espied a number of the articles, the smallest
of a set of cast-iron cart-boxes, as is usually termed the
round, hollow tubes, in which the axletree of a carriage
turns. Then selecting a tin cup, that would just take in the




THE SCHOOLIASTER.                 69
box, and turning into the cup as much water as he judged,
with the box, would fill it, he presented them separately to
the boy, and said,
"s There, my lad, tell me which of these is the heaviest?"
" Why, the cart-box, to be sure," replied the boy, taking
the cup half-filled with water in one hand, and the hollow
iron in the other.
" Then you think this iron is heavier than as much water
as would fill the place of it, do you? " resumed Locke.
"Why, yes, as heavy again, and more too - I know't is,"
promptly said the boy.
"Well, sir, now mark what I do," proceeded the former,
dropping into the cup the iron box, through the hollow of
which the water instantly rose to the brim of the vessel.
6There, you saw that water rise to the top of the cup, did
"Yes, I did."
"Very well, what caused it to do so?"
W hy, I know well enough, if I could think; why, it is
because the iron is the heaviest, and as it comes all round
the water so it can't get away sideways, it is forced up."'"That is right; and now I want you to tell me what
makes that smoke rise up the chimney."
a "Why, I guess," replied the boy, scratching his head, "[ I
guess - I guess I don't know."
"Did you ever get up in a chair to look on some high
shelf, so that your head was brought near the ceiling of a
heated room, in winter? and, if so, did you notice any difference between the air up there and the air near the floor
below? "
" Yes, I remember —I have, and found the air up there
as warm as nlustard; and when I got down, and bent my
head near the floor to pick up somet-hing, I found it as cold
as tunket."




70                LOCKE AMSDEN', OR
" That is ever the case; but I wish you to tell me how
the cold air always happens to settle down to the lower part
of the room, while the warm  air, some how, at the same
time, gets above."
"  fhy, why, heavy things settle down, and the cold air -
yes, that's it, an't it? - the cold air is heaviest, and so settles down, and crowds up the warm air, that is lightest."
"Very good. You then understand that cold air is heavier
than the heated air, as that iron is heavier than the water;
so we now will go back to the main question - what makes
the smoke go upwards9 "
" Oh! I see it now as plain as day; the cold air settles
down all round, like the iron box, and drives up the hot air,
as fast as the fire heats it in the middle, like the water; and
so the hot air carries the smoke along up with it, same as
feathers and things in a whirlwind. Gorry! I have found out
what mSakes smoke go up - it is curious, though, an't it, you?"
"' Done like a philosopher! " cried Bunker.  " The thing
is settled. I will give up that you are an academician of a
thousand. You can not only think for yourself; but can
teach others to think; and I therefore pronounce you well
qualified for a schoolmaster, in every thing except government, about which we will hope for the best, and run the
risk; so you may call it a bargain as quick as you please."
"You offer to make it so on your part, 1 suppose you
mean to be understood," said Locke; "for on mine, you
remember I told you, some time ago, that I feel unwilling to
undertake to govern a school of the character I have discovered yours to be."
" What, back out now? " exclaimed the other, with a disappointed air.  " Why, I was beginning to have a first-rate
opinion of you, and thought, of course, you would have
spunk enough to make a trial, at least.  Surely, you an't
such a coward as to be afraid to do that, are you?"




THE SCHOOLMASTER.                  71
These last remarks of Bunker, as taunting as they were
in import, were yet made in such a half-reproachful, halfrespectful manner, that they migllt not have brought our
hero to any decision, but for the low, deriding laugh which
the two larger boys set up on the occasion, and which fell upon
nis ears with such an exasperating effect, that it brought him to
an instant determination, and he replied, with unwonted spirit,
G" I will come on, sir; and with your permission, we will
see whether pupil or teacher shall be the master of the school
for the remainder of the winter."
" Goodl! that sounds like something," said Bunker, with
returning good humor.  "B oys," he continued, nodding significantly to his two oldest sons, "boys, did you hear that?
Ah! all will come out well enough, I imagine.  But come,
sir, now we have settled the contract, we -will walk into the
house for a little refreshment before we let you go home;
and while taking it, we will fix on the day of beginning the
school, first boarding place, &c.  Coime, sir, come on; and if
you have a good appetite, I will promise you a good dinner."
The decisive answer, which bound our hero to engage in
this school, had now been given, and he had too much pride
to make any attempts to recede from it; although, it must be
c6nfessed, that as soon as the momentary impulse, under
which he had thus consummated the bargain, had died away,
he more than half regretted the step he had taken. As it was,
however, he soon determined to throw aside, as far as possible, both fears and regrets, and, arlming himself with the
rectitude of his purposes, proceed boldly and decidedly upon
the task now before him. I-Te at once saw, that, in this
school, as in many others in our country, especially in the
newer parts of it, a false standard of honor had, from some
peculiar combination of circumstances, sprung up among the
scholars; tlat instead of intellectual attainments, physical.prowess, or mere brute force, had unfortunately been made




72                LOOCKE  ATNISDEN, OR,
the subject of predomininino applause; and that this, as a
very natural consequence, had led to the insubordination,
and the frequent attempts of bullying the mas-ter, of which
he had heard. And he justly reasoned, that, if he could
break down this false standard, and set up the true one, as
he was resolved, as far as practicable, to do, it would not
only insure his own success, but prove the greatest of blessings to the school. Hle could not expect, however, to effect
this object, at once; and the greatest difficulties, therefore,
he would have to encounter, would be likely to occur during
the first weeks of his school. It was this which had caused
him so long to hesitate. But having, at length, been spurred
into the undertaking, in the manner above mentioned, he
now made up his mind to face the dangers manfully; and, if
acts of moral courage would not serve, physical force, according to the best of his ability, should be employed to complete
the conquest, till his contemplated reformation, in this objectionable feature of the school, could be effected. It was
with these feelings, that, after an interesting hour spent in
general conversation, during the preparing and partaking of
the substantial meal provided on the occasion, Locke Amsden
took leave of his singular host and employer, and departed.
On his way homeward, young Amsden fell to revolving
over in mind the occurrences of the dclay, dwelling on the
unexpected manner in which he had been received and examined, and on the still more unexpected intelligence of the
man with whom he had thus come in contact, with the
interested and curious feelings of one to whom some new
leaf in the book of human nature has been presented for
contemplation and study. He had been taken byr complete
surprise by the character of Bunker. Like many other students, whose intercourse is yet mainly confined to their fellows
and instructors of the high schools, he had been led to
underrate the strenglth and compass of the uneducated mind;




and Th hhad expeeted to find, in the person in questioln, when
he understood himr to be: ignorant of even the sinmplest rudimrenits of learning, one of a correspondino ignorance of
iprinciples and  ac    x o iteas.  But, instead of this, he had
found a wholly unlettered ma, who had grasped and mastered
A11 tihe leading principles of several of the most importan-t
sciences; and whio, by his o wn unassissted thought and observation,  had storsed hfs mind  -iith a,funnd of or ignal ideas
more ample, perhai-s, thas trhat of Lany a  scholCaJr'o0 Iihd
trod the lwhiole round of the sciences.  Somwe Cof  unkier's
notions, it is true -  such, for instoance, as his opxi-ioon of booklearning, and the views he a7iparently entertained relative to
a dependence  on force for governing a school — our  hero
believed to be entirely erroaeouis; but thie greater part of
thie man's ideas had struck  -i a,s not only newr bu, -generaily as forcible and just.  An.rd lnov, s ie ane ain called
them to mind, and thouAnt of the disadvantages under which
they had been acquired, he could not forbear mentally exclaiming, " What might not such a mind become by the
assistance of a well-applied education?"
Such were the reflections of our youngf aspirtan, who, ever
eage r for knowlede, from whatever source it mirght come,
felt himself instructed by what he had t hat day heard and
witRnessed.  And well and wisely had he acted, int listening,
in the spirit of can did inquiry, to the sugges-tions of one
whose ideas were so entirely the fruits of his own independent thought and discri-minating observation; for ams.ong
people of such minds, however obscure or illiterate they mnay
be, will be found, for those who can separate truth from  the
errors writh which it may there occasionlly  be interrmixed,
the ruost prodUctive fields'for gleaning knowledge.
It was a favorite theory of thie self-tauo:ght mountaineer
whom wetY have introdUced, it will be recollected, that every
thing depenlded  on. bing able to t link.Tl   It would be well,




74                 LOCKE ABASDEn, OR
perhaps, for the cause of science, if there were among those
claiming to be fr-iends to her advancement, m1ore who held to
the same opinion- who were at the same pains to enaor-ce,
by precept and example, this theory in its true rmeaning, as
they are to remould, amplify, and bring out in new dresses,
the thoughts which those old strong thinkers of gone-by
days have wrought out for the appropriation of the intellectual idlers and surface-skimming  book-makers of the
present.  This may be, and doubtless is, a reading age; but
with all its advantages, we see not what claim it has to be
called a thinking age.  The cause of this may, in some
measure, perhaps, be attributable to the prevailing utilitarian
spirit of the times, which is more likely to lead only to the
lighter investigations required in turning to account what is
already known in science, than to laborious thinking, and
those profound researches by which the scholars of past
times were accustomed to push their way in the field of discovery; and which, by inviting and turning, through superior
inducementl;, the greater proportion of the talents of the day
into one channel, may have a tendency to circumscribe, impede, and weaken the operations of mind, and unfit it for the
-free, bold, and vigorous action which ever characterizes a
thinking age. Another cause for this intellectual character-:stic of our times may, perhaps, be found in the great
comparative ease wvith which knowledge is now acquired.'The sciences, as,no? taught in our schools, are simplified to
the utmost.  Besi es tlhisL a great proportion of our textbooks are prepared   r-i  quest-ons involving most of what
is essential to be learned on tile subject matter therein
contained.  The answers to these,qitstions, we fear, are
quite too often obtained at an easier rate than by investigations of the lessons from which they alone should be gathered,
and consequently without a full understanding of the subject.
What is still worse in this system, as usually conducted,




TlE SCHFlOOLIMASTER..
it naturally fixes in the mind of the pupil a limit beyond which6
he conceives he need not push his investigations;  and when
that limit,'whmich embrac.es all the questions propounded, is
gained, he thinks his task perfected. In this manner hle
is deterred from extending his inquiries on many different
points which might otherwise occur to his mind, and fr'om
examining many bearings of the subject which he otherwise
would do. But whatever may be the cause of the fact, if
fact it be, as we believe, the existence of that fact is an evil
which is as unnecessary as it is ominous to the progress of
scientific discovery; and it should awaken the attention of
the friends of science to the adoption of a course of measures
that shall have a tendency to supply a remedy, without
infringing upon the advantages to be derived from any real
improvements which have been made.
We will now return from  our digression.  After a lonog
and tedious ride, during which a dark and squally night had
shut down over the desolate landscape, our hero's eyes were
at length greeted with the cheering light that issued froln the
blazing logs, which, as usual on nights of the wintry character
of the present, were liberally piled on the hearth of his
father's kitchen.  On reaching the house, he put his horse
into the stable, and joined the family group within, whom,
for the last hour, he had been envying, as he truly pictured
thelm sitting in comfort around the social fireside.  lavilng
done good justice to a choice repast which maternal solicitude
had prepared and kept in readiness for his expected return,
lie related the adventures of his excursion and the result,
and paused to hear the comments which his parents and
brother mnight make on the occasion.
"They must be strange people," remarked 3Mrs. Amsden;
9"and as parents, singular, indeed, must be their notions,
which permit them  thus to sanction the conduct of their




70                LOCKE  AMISDEN, OR
boys, in such treatment of their instructors. Why, I am
sorry you engaged in such a place, Locke."
"0, o    don't know," said Mir. Amsdcen; "they seem rather
rough, according to Locke's story, to be sure; but it may do
him good to place him among folks that will wake him up a
little.  There's spunk enough in him, if you could get it to
the surface, I rather guess.  At all events, now he has
engaged, I would do my best to carry it out, if I was he."
"So would I," promptly responded Ben. "Why, I've
seen those Horn-of-the-iMoon boys often enough at the wrestling rings at the muster trainings. Some of'emrl, particularly
thle Bunkers, are as strong as mooses, sure enough; but, in
any case that takes real grit to carry it out, I don't believe
they are any great scratch. I saw a little up-and-cominng
sort of a fellow, from Sodom corner, in a fracas that a lot of'em got into at the last muster, fairly scare from the ground
a fellow of the Horn gang as big as two of him; and then
stumped all the rest to come on, one at a time, and there
was n't a soul of the whole boodle that dared go it.  Concern'e m! I could contrive a way to manage'er.m"
"And what would be the general features of your plan of
operations, my learned brother? " said Locke, smliling goodnaturedly at the thought of the other turning adviser in
matters of school-keeping.
"I am learned enough to know what is the best way of
getting along with such a pack as the Horn-of-tlhe-MIyoon
boys, at any rate, I think," replied Ben, slightly nettled;
"and that is more than you know, or can do, without help, I
fear. But if you want to know my plan, I will tell you --
In the first place, I would give out, in some way, that I was
most furious quick-tempered, and so unfortunate bad and
ructious, that from a child, when any one crossed and disputed me, I would fly all to pieces, and, withlout knowing




THE1 SCHOOLMTASTEI.                77
what I did, lay hold of the first thing I could find, and knock
him  down.  Tow, don't you think they would'be rather
careful what they did, after they believed that? "
":I shall go on and endeavor to do my duty in a proper
and decided manner," said Locke, in reply; "but to adopt
your plan, though it might have its effect for a while, would
yet be practising a deception to which I could never condescend."
1" That is right, my son," said Mrs. Amsden: "I approve
your determination to practise no deception; I would not,
whatever the result."
"' Why, mother," said [Ben, " to fight Old N Tick with Old
Nick's play, if we must figlht him at all, I thought was right,
the world over."
"c No   Beenjamin," rejoined the  mother seriously, but
kindly, "that is a bad principle to act upon. Deception
never long prospers; and, by its destructive effect on the
morals of'him who begins to practise it, generally ends in
the ruin of him and all his plans."
Ben did not attempt to controvert his mother's general
position, but still manifested a disposition to adhere to his
opinion respecting the right and expediency of adopting the
particular project he had advanced; and muttering, "-Well,
Locke must be helped for all that," fell to musing and
devising some means by which his plan might be carried
into effect without his brother's agency; but, not seeinC, fit to
make known any of his conclusions, his remarks were soon
forgotten, and the whole subject being at length dropped, the
family retired for the night.




CHAPTE R IV.
6Delightfil task to rear the tender thoughtg
To teach the youang idea how to shoot I"
THIOMfSON.
THzosE who have had much experience in the business of
school-keeping', before yielding their unqualified assent to
the oft-quoted sentiment of the great rural poet which wre
have placed over this chapter, would generally, we apprehend, wish to offer, as legislators say, an amecndment to the
proposition, in the shape of a proviso, something like the
following::-Provided always, that the teacher can have
the privilege of selecting his pupils.  Such, at all events,
were the feelings of our hero, as, )with many misgivings, he
set out, on the appointed day, for the place where he was to
establish a government, in which (since the understood
filure of IMr. Jefferson's experiment of introducing selfgovernment, on the principles of a republic, into the college
of which he was the founder) the golden mean between
absolute monarchy and anarchy is wholly wanting-  a governlent over what, he had reason to believe, would prove, in
the present instance, as rebellious a set of subjects as were
ever brought to order beneath the birchen sceptre of a pedagogue.  But however mild his disposition, or unassuming his
general demeanor, Locke Amsden was by no means wanting
in resolution.  He possessed, indeed, one of those seemingly
paradoxical characters, so often to be found in the world, and
yet almost as often mnisunderstood, in which great diffidence
of manner is united with great firmness of purpose, and a
full confidence in the ability to execute. And, consequently,




TIJ IE S CH OO Zl3ASTER.            79
whatever his fears and misgivings, he bravely combated
them, and endeavored to fortify his mind against the approachingl hour of trial.  Tn this, he was miuch aided by his
resolute little brother, ]Ben; who, for some secret reason, had
contrived to defeat a previously-made different arrangement
for the present journey, that he might himself attend the
former, in whose success his pride and interest seemed to be
wonderfully awakened.
On reaching the district where he had been engaged,
Locke repaired at once to the residence of his employer, at
whose house, it had been before arranged, he should first
take up his lodgings, as the beginning of that round of
boarding  throughli the district, which here, as in umany other
places, was made to add variety, to say the least of it, to the
mllonotonous life of the schoolmaster.  He was received with
much rough cordiality by Bunker, and with some show of
respect by his mastiff-mannered boys. The good dame of
the liouse soon began to bestir herself in preparation for a
meal for the  "new master " and his brother, the latter of
whonm, it was understood, after obtaining refreshment for
himself and horse, was to return homne that evening.
While the dinner was preparing, Ben, having departed for
the stables, to see'to his horse, in company with the boys, with
wihom he seemed determnined to scrape acquaintance, Locke
a11 his host soon becamie engaged in conversation on those
topics in which they had previously discovered themselves to
feel a imutual interest.
"I have felt considerable curiosity, since I became acquainted with). you, the other day," observed our hero, at a
point in the conversation when the remark might seem
appropriately introduced, "' to know how it could have happened, that so thinking a man as yourself had never learned
to read?"




80                LOCKE A.MSDEN, Or.
" Are you quite certain I should have been so much of a
thinker as I am, if I had received a book-education?" said
Bunker, in rep)Iy.
" four knowledce would have been inore extensive, in that
case, doubtless, sir; and if you had been the worse thinker
for it, t'he fault would have been your own, I imagine,"
replied the olther.
"All tfhat may be," rema rked Bunker, musingly, G"and
perhp-s it is so - perhaps it is wvith learning, as it is with
proper-ty, which we never keep and improve so well when
given to us, or get easily, as when it is obtained by our own
exertiocns - by hard knocks a1nd long digging.  But whether
this is so or not, one tihing to my mind is certain, nald theat is,
that more than half of your great book-men are, after all,
but very shallow thinkers; though the way they dress up a
subject with language, generally procures then the credit of
being otherwise; for it is curious enough -to see what a deal
of real ignorance a few long words and learned terms are
made to conceal."
"Ay," said Locke, " but does not your argument run
against the abuse of learning, rather thani its use?"
"Possibly," repliedl Bunker; "but, at any rate, I have
olten thought, that if I had received an education equal to
some of your great scholars, I should have found out rather
more than mLost of them appear to have done."
T6 Your impressions," rejoined Locke,' "are, T suspect, by
no means uncommon. I formerly thought so myself; but
the more I study, the more I am convinced, that the unlearned
are accustomed to expect much more from the learned than
they should do.  Scholars, however profound, can never
discover what God has purposely hidden from the human
mind."
1" There may be something in your remarks," observed the




THE SCHOOLMIASTER.                 81
other, " and I will think over the subject again. But now,
to return to your first question -   hat was the reason I had
never learned to read, was it? 
It was."
"Well, I will tell you honestly: it was, first, total want
of opportunity, and then pride, till I had got to be so old a
dog, that I thought I would not attempt to learn any new
tricks."
"Those are rather unusual reasons, for this country, at
least, are they not?"'" They are the true ones, in my case, nevertheless. MIy
father was a trapper, and pitched his cabin at the very outskirts
of civilization, on one of the great rivers in Canada, where
schools were wholly out of the question; — even books were
so rare, that I don't recollect of ever seeing but one during
the whole of my boyhood.  That one was my mother's old
worn and torn bible, which, at last, a gray squirrel, that
came in through the roof of our cabin, one day when we were
all out, knocked down from a shelf into the fire, as we concluded, because we saw him  escaping with a leaf in his
mouth, to help make his nest. This, as I said, was the only
book I remember to have seen; and this I should not recollect, probably, but for the singular manner in which it was
destroyed, andl the fact also that may mother, when she discovered her loss, sat down and cried like a child- God bless
her memory - if she had lived, she would have got another,
and most likely have taught me to read it. But she died
soon after, leaving me, at the age of about five, to the care
of an ignorant hussy, that my father, in due time, married.
Well, there I remained till I was twenty; when I left, and
found mny way into this part of the country, among people,
who, to my surprise, could all read and write. I was not
long, however, in discovering, that I was about as ignorant a
heathen as ever camne out of the bush. But, instead of going




82                LOCKER AMSDEN, OR
to school as I migh-t and should have clone, I felt ashamed to
let people know my condition, ancd so let pride deprive me
of a blessing which I could have easily obtained. And so it
continued with me, till I married and settled down here on a
new farm; when, if the pride I spoke of died awcay, its place
was soon supplied by business cares and a lot of little squallers, that took away all chance or thougaht of learning to read.
But, though not able to read myself, I can easily get others
to do this for meo Andl late years, having bought a good
many books of different kinds for my wife or boys to read to
nue, I have got, in this way, and by talking with book-men
both round home and abroad, a pretty tolerable good run of
most that has been printed. And the result has been, that I
have been sadly disappointed in what I used to suppose the
might-y wisdom of books. To be sure, there are many books
that are full of informxation and true philosophy; but let me
tell you, sir, t-here is a prodigious sight of nonsense bound
up together in the shape of books."
The dinner being now announced as in readiness, Locke
went out to call in his brother, whom he at length espied in
the yard of a grist-mnill belonging to Bunker, and situated at
no great distance from his house. Ben had here collected
round him  not only the young Bunkers, but several other
boys who had come to mill from different parts of the district; and he was apparently making some communications
to them, to which they were very evidently listening with
considerable interest andcl surprise.  WYhat might be the
nature of his communication, however, Locke, at that time,
neither suspected nor ascertained, as he did not go near
enough to hear what was said, and as Ben, when questioned
on the subject, after joining the other, refused or evaded any
direct answer.
As soon as the brot'hers had finished the repast which had
been prepared for them, Ben got up his team, and, bidding




THE SCHOOLMASTER.                83
his brother "to remember to put on a stiff upper lip when
he went into his school," cracked his whip and started off for
home.
The next morning, after breakfast, as Locke was about to
leave for the school-house, for the commencement of his
task, Bunker took him aside: —
"I should like to ask you one question, master," he said;
" and if you answer it at all, which you can do as you like
about, I hope you will do it candidly."
" Certainly, I will, Mr. Bunker," replied the other, in some
surprise.
"Well, I overheard my boys saying last night, that your
brother, who came with you, told them and some others down
at the mill, that you had such a fiery and ungovernable tern.
per, that your family, as well as all the boys in your neighborhood, always run from you, when you get offended (as
you often do, at almost nothing), lest you should seize an
axe and split their brains out; and lie begged of them, with
tears in his eyes, not to cross you in school, or break any of
your orders; for if they did, you would be almost certain to
seize the shovel or a cleft of wood, and kill one of them on
the spot; and then he should have to see his brother hung
for doing only what was natural to him, and what he could n't
help. Now, though I have said nothing, yet I think I see
through the object of this story; and I want to ask you, not
whether it is true - for I think it must be all humbug - but
whether you put your brother up to this little plot, or whether
it was one of his own hatching?"
" It was one solely of his own contriving, and used without
my knowledge or consent," replied Loclie, promptly.
"I am glad of it," rejoined Bunker; "for, though there
would have been nothing very criminal in such a course, yet,
I confess, it would have lowered you in my opinion. It was
well enough in such a chick as I suspect your brother to be




84                LOCKE A3tSDEN, OR
and I have concluded to have it go, for the present, just as
he left it; for there is no klinowing how much it may help
you in keeping the boys under.  So I advise you to keep
your own counsel, go to your school, be decided, but treat
your scholars like men and women, alnd not like slaves or
senseless puppets, as some of our masters have done, to their
own sorrow, I think. Do this, and I presume you will have
no trouble in managing them. But whatever method you
may take to govern them, be sure that you make them good
thinkers."
On reaching the school-house, where he found most of the
pupils assembled, Locke soon saw indications, which convinced him, that Ben's bugbear representations, which had
been made with so much address and apparent honesty that
the truth of them. seems not to have been doubted, were
already known to every individual in school; and that, in
consequence, he had become, with the younger portion of
them especially, the object of a terror which he little thought
it would ever be his lot to inspire. This, indeed, was plainly
discoverable the first moment he entered the house; for
coming among them somewhat unexpectedly, while his fancied traits of character were under discussion, they scattered
for their seats with nearly as much haste and trepidation, as
they would have shown had a dangerous wild beast walked
into the room. And, in two minutes, all was so still, that
not a sound, unless it was the beating of the hearts of the
more timid, could be heard in the apartment.  Nor did
the vivid impressions of their new master's severity,
which had thus oddly been received by the scholars, and
which had fairly frightened them into such unwonted stillness, prove of so temporary a character as he expected.
And often during the day, while arranging his classes or
attending to the ordinary duties of the school, he scarcely
knew whether he felt most secret amusement or pity at the




TilE SCHOOLMATiTERo                 85
evident sensations of many around him, as he observed with
what trembling anxiety his movements were watched, and
saw how many furtive and expressive glances were cast at
his face, in which, as their excited imaginations then pictured
him, they appeared to read that which put all thoughts of
roguery or misbehavior to instant flight. All this, to be sure,
had reference mainly to the younger portion of the pupils.
The older part, it is true, though their demeanor was marked
by a respectful quietness, appeared rather to be debating in
tLlheir minds the expediency of taking their former courses, tllan
entertaining any particular alarms for themselves, while their
behavior should be, to a decent degree, orderly. And during
the intermissions of the first two or three days, little groups
of the usually insubordinate might have been seen engagec
in discussing the momentous question, how far it might be
safe or feasible to attempt to subjugate the master, in the
same way they had several of his predecessors.  In all these
consultations, however, Tom Bunker, whom  his father had
secretly engaged to take Locke's part iml case of trouble,
unexpectedly hulng back, telling them they could do as they
pleased; but perhaps they would find out, that they had
better let the man alone. This coming, as it did, from their
acknowledged champion, and one who had generally acted as
ringleader in their former outbreaks against their teachers,
not a little dampened the ardor of the advocates of rebellion.
And after a few idle threats and expressions of defiance,
thrown out by the way of warding off any imputations which
might be made on their courage for retreating from their position, they finally relinquished their designs on the master, and
concluded to submit to his authority, at least till he became
the aggressor, in those acts of tyranny that they expected he
would ere long exhibit towards them. The movements of
the latter, therefore, were watched with no less silent suspi.
cion by the larger, than with fear by the smaller pupils,
8




86                LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
during the first week of his school. Perceiving all this, he
very wisely shaped his course for establishing his authority
on a more permanent foundation than can ever be raised in
feelings where fear alone is the governing principle. While
dignity and decision of manner marked his conduct in enforcing good order in school, he yet made kindness and courtesy
to characterize his general demeanor towards all his scholars.
This course he adopted no less from the suggestions of his
own mind, drawn from the remembrance of the effect which
kindness and respect in a teacher always produced on his
feelings when he himself was a pupil, than from the recommnendation of Bunker, "to treat his scholars like men and
women."
The sentiment of the last-named person on this subject is
indeed one well deserving of the consideration of all instructors of youth. Few teachers seem to be aware what a just
estimate children put upon manners - how quickly they pass
a senitence of condemnation on all that is coarse, contemptuous, or unfeeling, and how soon they appreciate every thing
that denotes respect and kindness towards them. If teachers
would properly consider this, they would find less difficulty,
perhaps, in accounting for the little influence which they often
find themselves capable of exercising over the minds of their
pupils: for almost as certain as one pursues the first-named
course of conduct towards them, will his precepts be rejected;
while the precepts of him who exhibits the last-mentioned
conduct will be readily received, and treasured up for improvement.
And such was the effect of the kind and judicious manner
which Locke displayed among the rough and uncultured
pupils he had undertaken to control. YWhen they saw, that,
instead of turning out the cruel and capricious tyrant they
had expected, he wanted nothing of them but what their own
consciences told them was just and reasonable, and especially




THE  SCHOOLMBASTER.                 87
when they found themselves uniformly treated with such red
spectful courtesy, when their behavior was not exceptionable,
all the mingled feelings of hatred, fear, and suspicion, with
which they had armed themselves in anticipation of an opposite treatment, rapidly melted into an affectionate reverence,
that not only destroyed, in most of them, all inclination for
insubordinate conduct, but made them anxious to gain his
approbation; the more particularly so, doubtless, from the
belief they still entertained, that his displeasure would be
attended with fearful consequences to themselves.
The first object of our instructor, that of gaining willing
ears for what he wished to impart, was now, to a good degree, accomplished. And no sooner had he made sure of
this important point, than he began to redouble his exertions
to rouse their minds from that cold and listless intellectual
condition in which they were unconsciously sunk, and which
caused them  to look upon learning and all attempts at
mental excellence as a mere matter of secondary concern.
This he did, not so much by general exhortation (for he well
knew that scholars generally hate preaching masters), as by
what logicians call arguments ad 1hominem, addressing the
self-love of one, the vanity of another, the curiosity of a
third, and so on; the dispositions of each having been previously studied for the purpose.  In fine, he adopted almost
as many expedients as he had pupils, in inciting them  to
push forward in their particular studies, and in awakening
in their bosoms a love of learning. And, in doing this, he
also labored incessantly, with argument, ridicule, and such
familiar illustrations as they could best understand and
appreciate, in showing them  the superiority of mind over
matter, or mere physical powers; and in setting up the true
standard of excellence among them, instead of the false one,
to attain to which seemed hitherto to have been the only
object of their emulation.  The happy results of these well.




88                LOCKE ABISDEN, OR
directed exertions were soon apparent. The exploits of the
wrestling ring, the leaping match, and other of the rough
athletics, in which it had been their chief pride to excel,
were no longer the main topic of conversation; and the
feats of bullies and hectoring blades, exercised upon schoolmasters, ministers, and deacons, were no longer considered a
matter of boasting. The keen interest formerly manifested
on all these subjects, indeed, had so sensibly declined, that
they were now seldom mentioned.  But in their place were
heard, both during the intermissions of school, and the
evenings spent at home, almost nothing but talk of studies,
anecdotes of the school, or the discussion of the arithmetical
puzzles, and the various interesting and curious questions
relative to the phenomena of nature, which the teacher was
in the habit of putting out, with which to exercise the minds
of his.pupils.  The parents of the district witnessed this
change in their children with no less surprise than pleasure,
and,wondered by what magic it could have been effected.
Bunker, the committee-man, daily grew proud of his selection of a teacher, and declared he had already done more
towards making good thinkers of his scholars than any of
their former instructors had done in a whole winter. In
short, before two weeks had elapsed, the whole Iiorn-ofthe-Mloon was ringing with praises of the new master.
But although young Amsden's school was fast becoming
what he had so sedulously labored to make it, and although
his pupils had generally, since the expiration of the first
half week of their attendance, so far shown themselves
disposed to obedience and propriety of behavior, as led him
to believe that no attempt would now be made to resist his
orders, yet it was not long before he found he should not be
permitted to avoid the test to which a master's firmness and
discretion are almost invariably put, in maintaining his authority, at some period or other of his school.




THE SCHOOLMASTER.                   89
This period, Wnich forms a sort of crisis in the teacher's
government, resulting either in its overthrow, or in its establishment on a permanent basis, generally occurs about the third
week of the school. After the first few clays of the school,
during which the restraints which scholars feel under a new
master, or the f:ears they may entertain of his yet untried
spirit and promptitude in administering punishment, usually
keep them quiet and orderly, they begin to take liberties;
though at first of so trivial a character, that a teacher, not
finding in them any particular cause of complaint, suffers
them to pass unnoticed.  From this, the more evil-disposed
go on crowding, crowding a little, and a little more, upon his
authlority, till they get so bold that he finds the most decisive measures will alone save his dominion from a total
overthrow.
Something like this was the process which Locke had
perceived going on in his school, without knowing exactly
vwhere to interpose his authority; when one, a boy of about
fourteen, who had been more forward than others in the
course, one day grew so bold as to place his orders at absolute defiance. Perceiving at once that his governlment was
at an end, unless the offender was conquered, and indignant
at his unexpected audacity, our hero, under the impulse of
the moment, was about to chastise hillm on the spot. A second
thou(ght, however, told hilll that he was too much irritated
to do this now with the best effect on the offender, or on
others inclined to become so; and he accordingly apprised
Gtle boy of the reason for deferring his plunishment, but prormised him, at the same time, that punishment would certainly
0ollow. Although this act of disobedience was not instigated
by any one, even by those from whom he had most reason
to apprehend difficulties, yet eithler that, or the threatened
chastisement, seemed to produce considerable sensation
among them, by awakening, perhaps, remembrances of theit




90                LOCKE AMISDEN, OR
old fracases in resisting their teachers on similar occasions,
and in exciting in some degree their sleeping inclinations to
take some such part when the punishment of the present
offender should be inflicted.  In addition to these suspicious appearances, he noticed, after his school was dismissed
for the day, considerable mysterious whispering among two
or three of those just mentioned, and overheard one of
them, a relative of the offender, trying to excite the others
to join him in preventing the threatened punishment, which
they supposed would take place on the opening of the school
the next morning.  But our hero, unmoved by these unexpected and somewhat ominous demonstrations, resolved to go
resolutely forward and do his duty, whatever might be the
consequences to himself.  On his way homeward, however,
while reflecting upon the subject of school-punishment, its
object, and the most effective mlanner of administering it to
obtain that object, he began seriously to doubt the wisdom
and expediency of the custom which he had always witnessed,
and' which he had proposed to follow in the present case, -
that of inflicting chastisements in open school. HIe reasoned,
and firom a just notion of the human heart too, that the
presence of companions, whom the delinquent knew to be
looking on to see with what spirit he bore up under the
operation, that they might afterwards praise him  for the
spunk he exhibited, or taunt him for his weakness if he was
seen to succumb, would in most instances have a tendency
to arm  himl with feelings of pride and obstinacy, which
would not only destroy all the beneficial effects to be gained
from the punishment, but often make him more obdcurate than
before.  So strongly, indeed, did these considerations weigh
on the mincl of Loclke, thlat he at length determined to adopt
a different mode of punishing the boy in question; and after
trying to judge of his own feelings, were he placed in the
offender's situation, as to what course would most conduce to




THE SCHOOLMASTER.                   91
that penitence and humility best calculated for amendment,,
and caliingl to mind all he had ever observed of the effects
of punislment on others, he at last hit on a plan which
he determined to carry into immediate execution. Accordingly, after obtaining his supper, hle repaired at once to the
culprit's residence, and, taking his father aside, made known
the boy's conduct, the absolute necessity of his punishment,
and gave his reasons for wishing to inflict that punishment
in private; ending with a request, that the other should call
out his boy, and that they all three should repair together to
the school-house for the purpose he had mentioned.'Why, the boy deserves a basting richly enough, no
doubt," observed the father; 6" yes, and a good one too. And,
if I was you, I would give it to him.  But what on earth do
you want my help in flogging him for?  Why, that is part
of what we are paying you for, I take it, lmaster."
IL wish for ino help in thle mere chastisement," replied
Locke;'"but I think your presence would add mluch to its
beneficial effiects, and it is only for your son's good that I
request you to go."
W fell, well," rejoined the former, "5if you think it will do
thle boy any good, - and I don't know but you are half right
about it; for Ii think if I was a boy, I should dislike most
confoundedly to be licked by a schoolmaster before my
father - if you think this, why, I will go with you; but I
kinder hate to, that's a fact."
His reluctance having  been thus wisely overcome, the father promptly called out his boy, who, not daring to disobey
thle command which was then given him, followed the two
others, in dogged silence, to the school-house.  On reaching
the house, which, as expected and desired, was entirely
solitary, Locke raised a light, and proceeded to the painful
task before him. I-le first kindly addressed the offender; and,
in a malner calculated to humble without irritating, set fortha




92                LOCXEZ AMSDEN.  i  01n
the probable consequences, both to him  and the school, of
suffering his offence to pass without punishment, which he
had been called there to receive, and then administered a
chastisement of adequate severity. After this, he was again
addressed by his teacher, the father occasionally putting in a
word, for nearly an hour, before the expiration of which he
gave unequivocal evidence of not only being deeply penitent
for the past, but resolved on good behavior for the future.
Vhiile so  inany alterations and improvements have been
made in the education and management of children and
youth at school, it is somewhat remarkable, that so little
variation has taken place in the mdle and character of school
pu-nishments, which, with some slight abatement, perhaps, in
degree and fiequency, have remained nearly tihe same since
the cdays of King Solonon, who had a wondrous high opinion,
it will be recollected, of the virtues of the rod. From nearly
all our civil codes, instituted for the government of men.,
whipping, for the punishment of ofences, has been repudib
ated, as not only barbarous, but calculated to harden rather
than anend; ancd confinement in prison, or other punishment,
substituted. Is the distinction which is thus kept up between
the government of men and childclren, made because the
young are more obdurate than the old?  Certainly not; for
the reverse of this is acknowledged to be tlhe fact. Is it,
then, because a similar change in the government of schools
is impracticable?  We understand not why this should be;
since, if expulsions or degradations would not effect the
object, rooms for solitary confinement might easily be provided for every school-house, and the delinquent imprisoned
till he would be glad to purchase liberty by amendment.
There may be sound reasons for the distinction we have
mentioned, but we confess we are unable to discover them.
But suppose we admit, that the punishment of whipping
is sometimes indispensable for insuring obedience and order




TEI  SCOOLMASTER.                    93
in school, is there not room  for improvement both in the
frequency and manner of its application?  Nothing has a.
greater tendency to brutalize th'e feelings, to deaden all
the best sensibilities of' the heart, than frequent repetitions
of this questionable practice. If it must be resorted to, let
it be seldom; and then, for reasons before suggested, let it
be done in private, and, if possible, in the presence of a
parent.  If thus done, unless we have read in vain the
young heart, its restraining fears, and its keen and overpowering sense of guilt and shame, when conscious that
there is no one present to uphold and countenance it in
error, rare indeed will be the cases in which a repetition of
the punishment will ever be found necessary.
The scholars, the next morning, assemnbled under the
expectation that the business of the day would be opened by
the promised punishment of the culprit of yesterday.  But
when they perceived that no movement of the kind was
likely to be made, and especially when they noticed the
altered  demeanor of th.e boy, whose whole appearance, instead of the brazen looks which he wore on leaving school
the preceding evening, now indicated the deepest humiiity,
their disappointment was equalled only by their surprise. It
was evident enough to them, tohat somethinog had occurred to
effect this unexpected alteration of circumstances. IBut what
this was, they were wholly at a loss to conjecture.  And, as
the boy, when they went out, either avoided them or evaded
their questions, the mystery was not solved till one of the
boys, who had been home for his dinner, accidentally got
hold of the truth, and hastened back to impart the important
news to his companions.
"Hurra! boys," he exclaimed, as he came puffing up to a
group assembled il the school-house yard to discuss the
subject anew before entering the school for the afternoon,
"hurra! boys,  I have found out, all about it, now."




9  LOCKE AMiSDE,  0R
" How was it, — how was it?" asked a dozen eager voicee
at once.
"I I11 tell ye," replied the boy, lowering his voice, and assuming a look of awe, as he thought of what he was about to
relate. "They took him-that is, his father and the master —
they took him  last night here to the school-house   only
think of that, all alone in the night! - and then the master
gave him, I do spose, one of the terriblest hidings that ever
was heard of."' What! right afore his father?" exclaimed several of thle
older boys, evidently surprised and disconcerted to hear of
this new mode of punishment, which might soon be adopted
in their own cases.
"6 Yes," replied the former, "and then kept him half the
night, forzino, talking to him like a minister, till he most cried
himself to death, they said.  How awful! wa'nt it, now?'
"Why, I rather he'd a killed me," responded one of the
former, in which he seemed to be joined by both old ant'
young; all of whom, for different reasons, saw much to dislike anld dread in the picture.
ell, I give in beat," observed the young bully, who, as
before intimated, was meditating resistance to the punishment in question; "somehow, I can't get the hang of this
new master.  He does every thing so different from what a
fellow is looking for; and I have about concluded we may as
well mind our own business, and let him alone."
" So, Mike, you have come to my opinion at last, have
you?" said Tom Bunker, who had been listening in silence.
"/ Now I have said but little about this affair, fro from first to
last; anld if you had had a clhance to go on with the shine
you was thinkingl  of, I can't say what part I should have
taken, if the master had needed help; but I want to tell you
I think he has used us all like a gentleman, and I would fight
for him. And now, Mlike, what do you say to backing  him




TRE SCIOOLMIASTER.                  95
up in keeping order, and using him as he wants to use us,
for the rest of the winier? 9'
"That is w-hat I have been thinking of myself —I aim
agreed," answereed Miike.
"Well, then, boys," rejoined Tom,  "let us all hands now
into the house for our books; and the one that learns the
most, and behaves the best, shall be the best fellow."
The crisis had passed. In the defeat of this last and inLpotent attempt to breaki down the authority of our schoolmlaster, his triumph was completed. All seemed to understand this; and, for the remainder of the season, no school
could have been more distinguished for good order and
obedience.
All troubles in regard to government being now at an end,
and no others being anticipated by Locke, he urged his
pupils forward in their studies with all the incitements he
could command. But even this may sometimes, perhaps, be
carried too far. At all events, he was accused of so doing,
in connection with an event which soon occurred, and which
came near breaking up his school. But the relation of this
unexpected and painful incident, we will reserve for a new
chapter.




CHAPTER V.
"So swift the ill -of such mysterious kind,
That fear with pity mingled in each mind."''I  was near the middle of the dark and dreary season
which characterizes our northern clime. Old Winter had
taken his January nap. And having protracted longer than
usual his cold, sweaty slumbers, he had now, as if to make
amends for his remissness, aroused himself with a rage and
fury which seemed to show his determination to expel the
last vestige of his antagonistic element, heat, that had thus
invaded and for a while disarmed him, for ever from his dominions. The whole season, indeed, to drop the metaphorical for plain language, had been one of uncommon imildness.
A warm and broken December had been succeeded by a still
warmer and more thawy January.  And so little had people
been made aware of the presence of winter thus far, that
their doors were often left open, and small fires only were
either used or required.  But the cold weatther now set in
with intense severity, and compelled all to keep tightly closed
doors and roarincg fires.
The school-house, which we have been for some time
making the seene of action, had been built the preceding fall;
and the interior, consequently, had been freshly plastered;
while the wood-work of the doors and windows, already tight
be-fore from its newness, had been swollen by the recent
thawy weather; so that the whole room, by this, and the
finishing operation of the frost in closing up the remaining




nTR  S C;OOLK ASuTEI..F 7
interstices, had been made almost whoily impervious to the
admission of any fresh ahr from w'ithout.  From this, however, no evil consequences, owing to the mildness of the
season, and the attendal.nt circunmstances we have mentioned,
had resulted to the school. But scarcely a week had elapsed,
after the change of weather just described, before the scholars, though apparently much enjoying the contrasted comforts
of their tight, stove-heated room, while the cold, savage
blasts could be heard raging and howling without, becarme
very visibly afiected. A livid paleness overspread their fetatures; while their every appearance iand movement indicated
great and increasing languor and feebleness.  The general
health of the school, in short, including that of the master,
seemed to be rapidly failing. These indications were soon
followed by several instances of so great illness as to confine
its victims to their homes, and even to their beds. Among
the latter was the case of the only son and child of a poor,
but pious and intelligent widow, by the namlle of Aiarvin,
which excited in the bosom of Locke feelings of the deepest
sorrow for the misfortune of the boy, and sympathy in the
affliction of his doating parent.'Ad it was not without
reason that both teacher and parent w ere touched.with peculiar grief on the occasion; for the boy, who was about ten
years old, was not only kind and amiable in disposition, but
a very excellent scholar. And now, almost for the first time,
having the advantages of good instruction, and his ambition
and natural love of learning having been kindled into enthusiasm by the various incitements held out to him  by his
instructor, with whom he had become a secret favorite, he
pursued his studies with an ardor and assiduilty which knew
no relaxation.  And having made surprising progress in
grammar, during tlhe few weeks the school had kept., he had
recently solicited and obtained leave to commence arit:hmetic.
ix) which he was giving his whole heart and soul, when ho




98                LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
was thus snatched from his engrossing pursuit by the hand
of sickness.
These cases of sickness, and especially the more serious
one of the good and studious little Henry, the. boy we have
particularized, produced much sensation in the neighborhood.
And the cause, not only of these instances of absolute illness,
but of the altered and sickly appearance of the whole school,
which now excited observation and uneasiness, began to be
generally discussed. As no epidemic was prevailing in the
country, and as all other schools in the vicinity, as far as
could be heard from, were even unusually healthy, it was
soon concluded that the present unhealthiness must be occasioned by something wrong about the school-house, or in the
manner of conducting the school. And as nothing afmiss
could possibly be perceived in the school-house, which all
pronounced warmn and comfortable, it was settled that the
fault, of course, must be looked for in the master.  Some
averred that the latter, by undue severity, or by some other
means, bad broken down the spirit of his scholars, which had
caused them to become melancholy, drooping, and sickly.
Others said that he had made the scholars study so hard,
that it had caused their health to give way under the tasks
which they were induced, through fear, or some mysterious
influence he had obtained over their minds, to perform. And
there were yet others who carried still farther the idea thrown
out by those last named, and contended that the master must
have resorted to some unlawful art or power, which he had
exercised upon his pupils, not only to subjugate them, but
somehow to give them an unnatural thirst for their studies,
and as unnatural a power of mastering them. In proof of
this, one man cited the instance of his son, who, having become half-crazed on his arithmetic, and having worked all
one evening on a sum which he could not do, went to bed,
leavins, his slate upon the, table, but rose some time in the




THE SCIHOOLMASTER.                   99
night in his sleep, actually worked out the answer, returned
to bed, wholly unconscious of what he had done, and slept
till morning, when he found, to his surprise, the whole process,
in his own figures, upon the slate.?  This incident, however
little it might have had to do, in the minds of others, in proving the position it was cited to sustain, seemed to go far with
these people in confirming the strange notion they.were beginning to conceive, that tile master had brought some unnatural influence to bear upon his pupils.  And when they
compared the wild, thoughtless, and unstudious conduct which
had ever characterized the scholars before, with their present
greatly altered behavior, and the eager diligence with which
many of them, both day and night, pursued their studies,
particularly nmatheimatical studies, they mysteriously shook
their heads, and said "they did n't know about these things;
such a change mIight have come in a natural way, but they
could n't understand it."  It was agreed on all hands, they
fnrtrher argued, that the master was deep in figures.  Capt.
uirnker, 1who was considered the best natural reckoner in
those parts, had confessed that he could n't hold a candle to
him in that respect.  They had always hearcl that strange
things could be done with figures, if a person sought to do
so. Indeed, there was a certain point in figures, they supposed, beyond which, if a person persisted in going, lie was
sure to have help from one who should be nameless, but who
always exacted his pay for his assistance.  They hoped this
was not the case with their master; but if it was, and he
was trying to lead his scholars into the same forbidden paths,
it was no wonder that they had such strange, blue looks;
nor was it at all surprising that sickness should come upon' This incident, improbable as it may appear to some, is a true one,
having occurred within the knowledgle of the author, who otherwise
would not have ventured on relating it.




100               LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
them, as a judgment. And they again shook their heads
and said "'it was high time that something should be done."
Let it not be inferred, that we would convey the idea, that
the people of the country in which our scene is laid were
generally as superstitious as some of the circumstances here
represented to have taken place might seem to imply. They
certainly were not so. And comparatively few locations, we
presurne, could have been found, where such arguments as
we have put into the mouths of some of the good people of
this uncultured district, would have been listened to a moment.  But our observations, nade during considerable
travel and intercourse among the common classes of people
in the Middle and Northern States, have apprised us, that
instances of the prevalence of notions similar to those just
mentioned are still to be found, and much oftener, too, than
we had formerly supposed.  We have often come across
isolated neighborhoods, even in the heart of intelligent communities, where, to our surprise, we found all the exploded
notions of witchcraft, sorcery, divination, and the like, still
entertained; and to an extent, indeed, that led us almost to
doubt whether we had not, by some miracle or other, been
carried back a century and a half; and set down among a
clan of the immediate disciples of old Cotton BMather, who
spent so much time a-nd learning in making mystery and
mischief about things which have no existence, except in
imagination.  Such a neighborhood, with a few honorable
exceptions, we are constrained to say, was that of the IHornof-the- lMoon.
On the day following that during which the singular surmises and discussions, to which we have alluded, were started,
two more members of the school were taken down; and the
situation of Henry J'[arvin had become so alarlling, tllat his
agonized mother, some tim.e in the preceding night, had
despatched a mall for a physician of hlih reputation, residing




TEE SCHOOLMASTER.                  101
in a large village, known by the name of Cartersville, nearly
thirty miles distant; though she was compelled to pledge her
only cow to defray the expenses of the man, and induce hilm
to become answerable to the doctor for his pay. All this, as
nmay be supposed, much increased the alarm  in the district,
and quickened into action those who had busied themselves
in getting up an excitement against the master.  MIeanwhile,
the innocent victim of these absurd imputations remained at
his post, wholly ignorant of the stir that was going on about
him, and thinking only of the misfortune which threatened
his school.  On the evening of the day last mentioned, he
dismissed his school early, and with a heavy heart repaired
to the residence of the distressed widow, to visit his sick little
favorite.  On reaching the house, he entered the room ordinarily occupied by the family; when he was introduced, by a
o-ma  in attendance, to Dr. Lincoln, the physician before
named,  who, having arrived a short tilme before, was now
taking,.some refreshment.' Our little patient here is a pupil of yours, sir? " inquiringly said the doctor, who was a small, unostentatious, but a
highly intellectual man.:He is," replied Locke; " and I can hardly express how
mucn anxiety I feel for his situation, which I fear you will
pronounwce dangerous."
"Your apprehensions, I regret to say, are but too well
grounded, sir."
" What do you consider the true character of his disease?"
"Whatever it may have been at first, it is now a brain
fever, threatening congestion."
"Are you prepared to assign any particular cause?"'Of his first attack, I am not.  In regard to the form the
disease has now assumed, I may be better prepared, perhaps,
to give an opinion after asking you a few questions.  What
are the boy's habits of study and scholarship?"
9*




102               LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
"66 -le is a bright scholar - uncommonly so - very industrious and anxiolus to learn."
"  suspected so. And you have held up to him what to
others, perh'iaps, would scarcely be an inducement sufficient
to move them, but what, to his sensitive mind, has incited
him to un-wonted exertions?"
" As you say, sir, I may have said that which had the
elSect to incite him; although, I am sure, I have used more
exertions with many others."
"I presLumine so. It does not require a timber-chain to
draw a miser to a supposed bed of gold.  A bare glimpse of
the loved treasure is enough to kindle his whole soul for thle
eager grasp.  So with the youthful intellect, if bright, and
united with a strong love of learning. And let me caution
you, my dear sir, how you spur on such a mind, in one of
tender years.  The body must be permitted to grow, as well
as the mind.  Very bright children are said always to die
first, and though the cause generally assigned for this may
be false, there is yet much truth in the saying; the true
cause of the fact being, that the minds of such children, by
the injudiciously applied incitements of parents and teachers,
are often so over-wrought, that disease, at every slight attack
on other parts of the system, is prone to fly to the enfeebled
brain, and, oftener than otherwise, destroy its victim.  In
these remarks you will read the opinion to which I incline
respecting the present case."
"Ay; but are you aware that several others of my school
have been taken ill, and those, too, t. hat would be the last to
whom you would think of imputing injury from undue mental exertion? "
"I have so understood, sir.  There may have been some
local cause for these, as well as the first attack of the poor
little fellow here.  Has any such cause suggested itself to'
your mind?"




TIE S CIOOIM,3IASTER.              103
"No! iluless it be the late sudden and great change in the
weather."
"That will hardly account for the manner in which your
school, almost the whole of it, in some deglree, as I understand, has been affected, in a time of such general health.
There must be other causes, which I feel some curiosity to
ascertain before I return."
The conversation was here interrupted by the entrance of
a woman of the neighborhood, one of that valuable class of
society who retail news, with comments.
"Do you attend the school-meeting to-night, M5r. Amsden?" she soon asked; for she did not appear very bashful
in clainimng her ri1Lht to a share in the conversation.
"School-meeting, madam! " said Locke, in surprise; I was
not aware that there was to be one."
O yes, there is; why, everybody is going, they say. I
supposed you, of course, knew it."
"This is the first I have heard of it. But what is the
object of the meeting?"
"0O to see what's to be done about the scholars being in
this sickly and malagantly way, to be sure.  Some say the
school won't keep any more, at any rate. But I tell'em, like
enough the master will clear it up, after all's said and done."' Clear up what, pray, madam?  Of what can I possibly be accused, in connection with this misfortune to my
school?"
"0, do n't ask me now - I let it pass into one ear and out
the other, what I hear; because I never mean to be one of
those who go about telling things to breed mischief and illwill among people."  And here the good and scrupulous
lady struck off in a tangent, and asked the doctor, now while
she thought of it, as she said, seeing she had heard a great
many disputes about it,'"whether saffron or camomile tea
was, upon the whole, the best for the measles?"




104               LOCKE A.MSDEN, Oi
As soon as the doctor, who was a masl of much sly but
caustic humor, had gravely delivered hi-mself of a very
learned answer, which, he said, upoz the wh/ole, all things
carefully considered, he imust conclude in the language of the
great Dr. Pope,
"For forms of diet drinks let fools contest:
That which is best administered is best."
As soon as he had done th'is, Locke, whose mind was still
running upon the inexplicable news he had just heard from
tChe woman, again turned to her, and asked if she knew
whether M0dr. Bunker had returned from  the journey on
which he had been for the last fortnight absent."
" Ihy, we do n't certainly know yet," replied the newsmongress; "but we kinder'spect he got home this very afternoon. Jilm Walker who was to our house about a hour ago,
to borrow a sassage-filler for his wife, said he thought he
saw,:firom-i his house, a creter over there, that looked like the
ca1ptain's old black hoss, going to water, and rolling in the
snow as if he'd jest been onharnessed after a journey."
"Well, I am thankful -for that, if lhe has i,-ndeed arrived,"
replied Locke, who felt anxious for the presence of his friend
at the approaching meeting.'C ome, Mr. Anmsden," said the doctor, rising, "you will
of course attend the school-meeting; and I will go with you,
if I ca- be spared; but we will now walk into the sick room,
if you please.  We cannot admit much company," he continued, as he saw the gossip turn a longing eye upon the
opening door, as if waiting for an invitation to accompany
them; "but AMr. Amsden is the boy's teacher, whose presence may be a benefit, by recalling his wandering mind."
When they entered the sick chamber, a scene of silent but
touching woe presented itself.  The grief-stricken mother,
who scarcely heeded their approach, sat bending over the




THE SCHOOLMASTER.                 1005
pillowed couch, intensely gazing, with fixed, glazed, and watery eyes, upon the face of the little sufferer, as he lay nervously moving his restless limbs, and rolling his swathed
head, in the deep and troubled slumbers which exhausted
nature seemed to be strongly claiming on the one hand, and
grappling disease fiercely disputing and constantly disturbing
on the other. The doctor took the patient's hand, and attentively examined his pulse; when some movement, in restoring the limb to its place, awoke him. As his dim and slowly
wandering eyes fell upon the face of his beloved teacher, a
single glance of intelligence slightl~y illumined them; and the
semblance of an affectionate smile played faintly, an instant,
over his sunken and livid features, vanishing away like some
struggling sunbeam that has partially burst through a stormy
cloud. The mother saw the glance, with the recognition it
evinced. And the association, as her thoughts flew back to
the happy days of her darling boy's health and friendly intercourse with his teacher, of which that look had so plainly spoken, and reverted to what he now was, and probably soon would
be, the association thus called up was too much for her bursting heart.  She groaned aloud from the inmost recesses of
her troubled spirit. Her whole frame became deeply agitated, and her bosom shook with the convulsive throes of her
agony, as with indistinct, quick, whispered ejaculations,
she seemed eagerly snatching for the hand of mercy from
above, to save her from  sinking under the insupportable
weight of her own feelings. Her prayers were so far answered as to bring her the temporary relief of tears, which
now gushed and fell like rain from their opening fountains of
bitterness.
"I am glad to see that," observed Lincoln, brushing away
a tear that had started out upon his knitting brows.'L It will
relieve you, madam. And now let me persuade you to go




a1n               LOCKE AM5DEN, OR
Oult, bathe your face, and otherwise refresh yourself. ~-We
will remain, and take care of your son."
" Ouar profession," resumed the doctor, after the widow had
retired, as she did, in silence, on the suggestion just made to
her, "our profession, MBAr. Ansden, is one which brings along
with it many pains, but which, at the same time, is not without its gratifications. A case now, like this, an almost hopelessly sick child, with a distracted parent hanging over it -
and we are daily pained with witnessing such scenes —
draws hard, hard, I confess, upon my sympathies.  But
again, on the other hand, if this boy should recover throug'
my means, I shall lay up in the bosom of that mother,
whether I deserve it or not, a store of gratitude which will,
perhaps, often find utterance in blessings at the bare mention
of my name! Yes, if he recover," continued the speaker,
musingly, as he rose at some new appearance he noticed in the
patient, and went to the bedside, " if he recover - and all
that I can do shall be done, and that too with no charge to the
poor woman, even if I knew I had got to beg my next meal.
But it is a fierce and unmanageable disease, and I tremble for
the crisis of this night. Here, step here, Mr. Amsden, and
listen to the confused mutterings of broken thoughts and
images that are whirling in the chaos of that perplexed
and laboring brain."
Locke immediately complied with the request; and as he
turned his ear towards the rapidly-moving lips of the delirious boy, he could soon distinguish " six times six are thirtysix —seven times six are forty-two - eight times six are
forty-eight," and so on. Sometimes he would follow one
figure in this manner through all its successive multipliers,
in the usual table, and then take up another, follow it awhile,
and suddenly drop it for a third, which in turn, perhaps,
would be relinquished for some attempted process in subtract




T'HE SCIH00LMASTERo                107
tion or division; in all of which he seemed to be constantly
meeting with troubles and perplexities, with which he would
appear to contend awhile, and then return to his old starting
point in the multiplication table, and with freshened impulse
hurry on with "six times six are thirty-six - seven times six
are forty-two," &c. &c., till something again occurred to turn
his bewildered mind from the course it was mechanically pursuing.' Poor, poor boy! " exclaimed Locke, as, with a sigh and
starting tear, he turned away from the affecting spectacle.
The time having arrived for our hero's departure for the
school-meeting, and the widow now coming in, the doctor apprised her of his intention of accompanying the former, an'd,
giving his directions for the next hour, requested her to send
for him should any considerable change occur in the patient,
when they both set off together for the schllool-house.
On reaching the place of destination, they found, with the
exception of Bunker and one or two others, all the men, toL.
gether with several of the older scholars of the district, all
ready assembled, and on the point of proceeding to business.
As soon as Locke had helped his friend, the doctor, to a seat,
and taken one near by for himself, he cast a leisurely look
round the assembly.  It required neither much tixne nor
closeness of observation to apprise him  that there wras a
great deal of suppressed, excited feeling prevailing generally
among the company.  Nor was he much longer in satisfying
himself, from the words which occasionally reached his ears,
from little knots of eager whisperers around him, and from
the many cold and suspicious glances he encountered, that a
great portion of this feeling was unfavorably directed against
himself, the cause of which he was still unable to conjecture.
"I motion Deacon Gilchrist be IModerator of this meeting," said one, bobbing half-way up, and hastily squatting




108               LOCKE AMASDEN, OR,
back to his seat, before the sentence was aiirly out of his
mouth.; "I am not so sure but they will need a moderator before
they get through," whispered the doctor to Locke, emphasizing the word so as to give it a literal signification.
The vote having been taken, and the chairman, a short,
sluggish man, whose wisdom and sanctity lay principally in
his face, being duly installed in his seat, he pronounced the
meeting open, and invited those present " to offer."
"I motion," again said the person who had first spoken,
"I motion, anir. BIoderator, that this school come to an eend.
And I've got my reasons for't.:'
The motion was eagerly seconded by two or three others,
all speaking at once, and demanding the question, in a manner that plainly showed that a considerable portion of those
present were acting in concert, and with the intention of
having the vote taken before any debate could be had on the
subject. And the chairman, who was evidently a secret favorer'of the project, jumped up to put the question; when
Locke, who had witnessed the movement with the utmost
surprise, rose and demanded the reasons which the mover
asserted he had for his proposed measure.
"a I call for the vote - put it to vote!"  was the only reply
which Locke received to his reasonable demand.
"Look here nowr, ir. Moderator," cried a tall, rough-looking young fellow, who rose in a different part of the room
from that occupied by the combined party, " I have neither
chick or child to send to school, to be sure; but I'm a voter
here, and I must say I think you are for pushing the master
rather hard, to vote him out without giving him your reasons,
so as to allow him a chance to clear it up, if he can. And
as to any blame for the sickness resting on him, I an't
so sure but what he can; for I can't say I think much of
this black: art business, or of its having any thing to do in




THE SCHOOLMIASTER.               109
bringing on the trouble. I wouldn't give much for all the
help the master or any body else ever got that way. Now
you may think as you're a mind to; but I never thought the
old boy was half so much of a critter as he's cracked up to
be. And I do n't believe he's any great scratch at cipherin'
himself neither, much less to teach it to others."
The sensibilities of the good deacon received a very visible shock from this strange and irreverent speech, as it was
deemed; and his zealous supporter, whom we have mentioned
as taking  the lead in motions thus far made, was so much
outraged in his feelings, either by the sentiments of the
speaker, or the opposition they implied to his plans, that he
rose, and said he thought the young man ought to be rebuked
for such loose discourse, in a meeting like this, where folks
had so much reason to be solemn. "I wonder if he believes,"
continued the zealot, warming up, "what the scripture says
about the power of sorcerers' getting unlawful help to do what
other folks coukldn't do?  And I should like to ask him
where he thinks the help come from, when young John Mugridge, that the master had got along so unnatural fast in figures, did a hard sum in his sleep.  I want to know, too,
what he thinks about widow 3iarvin's boy being taken sick —
in mercy, perhaps - the very next week after the master put
him to ciphering. And then I wish he'd tell us what makes
the whole school look so blue and ghastly, if there a n't any
thing wrong in the master's doings. And I call on the master himself to say whether he can deny that he understands
the black art."
Locke could hardly bring himself to reply to this ridiculous charge, or even to answer the particular question tflat
he had been thus publicly called on to answer. Hie did so,
however, by briefly stating that he knew of no such art.
He had heard, indeed, that the faculty of foretelling events,
fortunes, and the like, was supposed to be attainable by fig10




110               LOCKE AMBSDEN, OR
ures. And he recollected, as he commenced arithmetic when
a mere boy, indulging a sort of vague expectation that he
should come across this art, if he went far enough. But the
further he advanced, the more did he see the impossibility of
acquiring any such faculty by the use of figures, which, more
peculiarly than any other science, discarded all suppositions,
and had to do only with certain demonstrable facts. And
now, having studied or examined, as he believedl, nearly all
of that science that had been published, he was fully prepared to say that the belief in the faculty in question was
wholly a delusion.
" I do n't blame him for denying it," said the superstitious
spokesman before named.  "I think I should, if I was
wicked enough to tamper with sich forbidden things.  But
I should like to hear Deacon Gilchrist the Bloderator's
views on this subject."
The Mioderator, after sundry hems and haws, by way of
getting his apparatus of speech in motion, assumed a look of
wise solemnity, and observed, -
"It appears to me, my beloved friends, that there's air
awful responsibility on us. Duty is duty. I do think so. I
do n't know, nor want to, much about the hidden things of
figures, except they are thought to be the instruments that
Satan works by sometimes. We know there were sorcerers
and workers in hidden mysteries, in the days of the apostles; and the scripter says they shall be multiplied in the
latter days, which now is. I once read a book by a great
and deep divine — I've eeny most forgot his name, but I
think it was WToollen Marther, or some sich oncommon crissen
name - who had seen, with his own eyes, a great deal of the
awful doings of Satan. And he speaks of the strange looks
of those that were buffeted by the adversary, and the divers
maladies and sore evils that befell those who were led by
hlis emissaries into unlawful ways. And I do think, my




THE SCCHOOL.MASTER.                ill
friends, there's something very mysterious in this'ere school.
1 do think we have seen a token of displeasure, that seems
to say to us, in a loud voice - yea, the voice of' many thunders -  Come out, and be separate rosm him that bringeth the
evil upon you."
This speech was triumphantly echoed by several of the
deacon's supporters, as an unanswerable argument for the
measure they were so intent on carrying. There were others,
however, who were so obtuse as not to perceive the force of
the argument, or the justice of its application.  Among these
were the intended victim of this combination, and his newlyfound fiiend, tile tall fellow, whose speech had so scandalized
his opponents; both of whom made a reply to the oracular
speech of our modern Solomon - the one by denying both
premises and conclusions, and the other by drolly asking pardon of the old boy, the deacon, or any of their friends, if he
had underrated or offended them in his former speech, and
by contending that the master had cleared himself, to his
mind, of the charge of ciphering his scholars into fevers, and
their parents into fidgets.  These replies led to a good deal
of scattering debate, in which nearly all, by speech, word
thrown in, or other manifestation, participated; and by
which it became apparent that there were strictly three parties in the assembly: first, the deacon's trained followers,
who, numbering about one third of the district, were for
breaking up the school, for reasons before given; second,
another portion, of about the same number, who had been
induced to come into the plan of the former, through their
secret fears that some contagious disease was about to break
out in the school, which their children would be more likely
to take, if the school continued; and last, the other third,
who believed the master in no way chargeable for the
condition of the school, which they wished might be still
continued.




112               LOCKE A MSDEN, OR
The deacon's party, perceiving, by this time, that they
could safely count on strength enough to carry their measure, clamored more loudly than ever for a decision of the
question. Locke gave himself up as lost, and a few minutes
more would, indeed, have been decisive of his doom, but for
the unexpected arrival of a new personage. This was Bunker, who having reached home only a few hours before, had
not heard what was in train till the evening was considerably
advanced; when, accidentally learning something of the
facts, he came post haste to the scene of action. This arrival very visibly disconcerted the deacon's party, and produced
a dead pause in their proceedings, during which the former
marched boldly up to Locke, and gave him one of those
hearty and cordial shakes of the hand, which send assurance
to the desponding heart, and are more gratefully felt, on
some emergencies, than a thousand expressed pledges of
friendship, on others. After being introduced to Dr. Lincoln, Bunker, taking a conspicuous stand before the company, immediately demanded the object of the meeting, and,
by a series of sharp and rapid questions, addressed first to
one, then another, soon succeeded in drawing out the whole
truth, with all that had transpired.
"0 ye miserable thinkers i" he exclaimed, as soon as he
had satisfied himself of the true situation of affairs, "what,
in the name of common sense, could have put ye up to such
nonsense and folly as this?  Three decent efforts for a correct idea should have told you that the master would not be
caught teaching, for nothing, so valuable a secret as the
black art, if that art is all you suppose it to be. Why, by
foretelling the rise in the markets, or the lucky number of
the ticket that is to draw the highest prize in the next lottery, he can make an independent fortune in six months, if
he will keep his secret to himself; but if he goes and imparts this faculty to others, they will get away all his chances




THE SCHOOLMASTER.                 113
for such luck, and his art won't be worth a farthing to him.
Do you believe he would do such a foolish thing?  No! not
a soul of you. There is thought number one for you.
"Again -what could make you think that the teaching of
this art ever did, or could, bring ill-lealth, either upon the
teacher or the taught?  This was never a fact. Is there
any thing said in the Bible about the 1nagicians, witches, or
diviners, or their followers, being taken sickly for their practices?  Did Simon'ilagus make anybody sick?  Did the
sorceress, or black-art girl, that St. Paul converted, carry
disease in her train? No; for she had brought her master
a good deal of money by telling folk's fortunes; when, if she
had brought sickness and judgments upon them, they would
have given him  more money to have kept her away. Naor
was there any such misfortunes connected with the witcheraflt
in the old Bay State. Doctor lMather, even in his book,
do n't say so; for ] have heard it read. The bewitched, according to his story, only acted and appeared a little wiild
and devilish. But, if his book had said this, it would amount
to nothing; for I do n't believe, if the old Tick himself should
turn book-mcaker to-day, and sit down, with his old yellow,
brimstone-tempered steel pen, and do his best, for a month,
he could get more of the real essence of falsehood between
t'he two lids of a book, than can be found in the book T've
mentioned. And if ever that learned doctor- for he was
accounted pious - gets within the walls of the New Jerusalem, he will find, I fear, when he comes to see what suffering,
death, and crime, were brought about through his influence
and example, as well as he might mean -that heaven will
be rather an uneasy place for him. But, supposing the judgslents of sickness, and so on, did attend such doings, what then?
How would it stand in the present case? Why, the master, by
the very art that was to produce the misfortune, would know
thfat the misfortune would follow his attempt to teach it,
10o




114              LOCRE AMSDEN, OR
And do you think he would try it, when he knew it would
bring sickness and trouble on his school, that must break it
up, cost him the loss of all his wages, and, what is more, send
him off with a character that would for ever prevent his getting another school?  Would he be such a stupid fool as to
do this? Never i and you all now see and know it. There
is thought number two for you.
" Once more. In what I have said, I have taken you wholly
on your own ground; so that you should not say I could
meet you only on my own dunghill. I will now make you
come on to my ground, and see if you can stand fire any
better there. And this is my ground: —I say that this
black art, as you understand it, the faculty of foretelilng
events, together with sorcery, magic, or witchery, and every
other art that lays claim to any such faculty by the aid of
figures, or any thing else, is all moonshine, imposition, and
falsehood. And I do n't want to set before you but one single idea to make you know and feel the truth of my assertion. NTow follow me. Did you ever know or hear of a rich
fortune-teller, black-art-worker, or conjuror?  Speak out, if
you ever did. A single one that was rich, I say. You do n't
speak?  No; for you can't say you ever did hear of such
an one. You all well know that they are a set of poor, beggarly rascals from beginning to end. Well now, what prevents them, as I said of our master here, if they have this
faculty of looking or figuring into futurity, friom seeing and
seizing upon every lottery ticket that is to draw a good prize;
from buying every article in the markets that is about to rise
greatly in price?  XWhat prevents them from doing this, and
making their fortunes at a blow?  Tell me, you, or you, or
you. This is thought number three for you.
"Now my number first pinned an argument upon you -
even allowing you your own false premises - with nothing
but a wooden pin, that you could not break. i3y number




THE SCHOOLiMASTER.                 115
second, still giving you the same advantage, put in a board
nail, that, with or without the pin, not one of you could twist
or move. And my number third puts a double ten clincher
upon the whole, that all of you together can never start.
Now standl forth and gainsay it, ye persecutors of the best
teacher we ever had- in the district, or for ever hold your
peace! No one speaks; and I pronounce the master guiltless, and acquitted of your foolish charge.
" B.ut although the master is no way blameable, yet that
an unusual number of the scholars are sick, and nearly all
drooping, if I am rightly informed, I am not going to deny.
AnLd there is some cause for it, which we must try to discover,
thalt -we may stop the evil. If' it is not the- starting point- of
some epidemic disease that is about to spread over the country, why, then it must be owing to something wrong about the
school-house.  By taking up the possibiiities, one after another, I probably could think, it out myself within twenty-four
hours.  But here is a man," continued the speaker, turning
towards the doctor, "who has been in the -way of thinking
of such things half of his life. Let us have his opinion.
Dr. Lincoln, will you favor us with your views on the subject
of inquiry?"
The doctor, who had attentively listened to the whole debate, inuch of which he had appeared to enjoy with the
highlest zest, now rose, and observed that he had already
made up his mind to ofier his opinion on the matter in question, before called on; and he would now proceed to do
so. He had some secret suspicion of the cause of the general unhealthiness of the school, on first learning the fact;
and having come to the meeting, mainly with the view of
satisfying himself in relation to the matter, his attention,
during the timne he had been here, had been particularly
directed to the subject; and he was now prepared to say,
that what was before a mere suspicion with him was now a




116               LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
confirmed opinion.  The cause, and sole cause, of this un.
healthiness was the want of ventilation; and, from what he
had suffered himself since in the room, although the door had
been frequently opened, he was only surprised that the condition of the scholars was not infinitely worse than he understood it was. Though not wishing it to strengthen his own
convictions, yet, as it might better convince others, he
would proceed to set the matter in a stronger light before
them.
The doctor, then, while every ear and eye were regarding
his worcis and movements with intense interest, called on
Locke to ascertain the number of cubic feet contained in the
empty space of the room. A  carpenter present, who happened to have a bundle of his tools with him, having called
ini:o the meeting while on his way home from some finished
job, produced a rule, and took the cifferent dimensions of the
apartment with great exactness; when Locke, from the data
tlus fiurnished, quickly ascertained and told off the number
of cubic feet, as required.  This number, owing to the ill-advised construction of the school-room, in which the floor rose
iri'   one side at so great at angle as to take up about one
sixth part, of wihat would have been the space with a level
floor, amounted onily, with proper deductions for stove, seats,
&c., to sixteen hundred cubic feet.
"NTow let me observe," scaid the doetor, "that, from the
latest and most accurate experiments of chemists and medical men, it has been ascertained that one person, by respiration fr'om the lungs alone, destroys all the oxygen, or vital
principle, in thirteen cubic feet of space per hour.  How
many scholars have you, hIr. Amsden?"
"Sixty, upon the average, perhaps more, say sixty-four."
"Ascertain, then, how many cubic feet of vital air these
all will destroy in one hour."
" Both Locke and Bunker, the latter of whom now began




THE SCHOOLMASTER.                 117
to be in his element, almost the next instant gave the same
answer - eight hundred and thirty-two feet.
"How long do you generally keep them in without intermission, in which the doors would necessarily remain open a
moment while they were passing out?"
"Generally an hour and a half, sometimes two."
T' hen, gentlemen," said the doctor, " the true, but greatly
misconceived, cause of your trouble and just alarm is now
plainly before you. You see, by our calculation, that, in less
than two hours, all the air that can sustain life a moment
would be, in this new and almost bottle-tight room, if not renovated by opening the doors or windows, entirely consumed.
And, taking into the account the quantity of this vital principle inhaled by the pores of so many persons, and the probably greater portion destroyed by the fire and reflecting
surface of the stove and pipe, I presume one hour is sufcient to render the air extremely unhealthy; an hour and a
half, absolutely poisonous; and two hours, so fatally so as
to cause your children to drop dead on the floor."
"Thunder!" exclaimed Bunker, "can this be so?  [ long
since knew that we were put upon our allowance, when in close
rooms, for the right kind of breathing air; but I never supposed there was so much death in the pot as that comes to.
But that fact which you build upon -the amount of vital
air a person destroys an hour- I am afraid, doctor, you got
it only out of the books, which I anm rather shy in trusting
for what I call gospel."
"Both from books and my own imperfect experiments,"
replied Lincoln, "and I am satisfied that the proportion is
not rated too highly. But I have not quite done all that
I proposed in this case. We have now been in the room, I
perceive by my watch, but three quarters of an hour, while
there are not probably over thirty persons present. And
yet, even in this time..and with this nnmber, I will ask you




' 1 8             ZLOCKE AMSD EN  OR
4al, if you do not feel oppressed and uneasy from the impul
rity of the air here?"
I do o-and I — and I too," responded several; while
others, as the case was thus now brought home to their own
senses, which plainly spoke in the affirmative, sprang forward
in alarm to throw open the doors.
" Not yet - not yet," said the doctor, interposing.  " We
can live awhile longer; and I wish in some degree to satisfy
you, and particularly Captain Bunker here, whose thorough
mode of coming at results I much admire, that what I have
said is not altogether incapable of proof; even with the means
at hand. Cannot our carpenter here, with a few minutes'
work, so alter the casings, that the upper sashes of these
windows can be lowered some few inches?"
Locke - who felt both pained and chagrined, that his inattention to this matter, in which he so well knew all the principles involved, should have so nearly led to disastrous
consequences, and whose active mind, having seen through
the whole subject at a glance, the moment the doctor put him
on the track, had long since been engaged in devising a ready
remedy for the discovered evil -here interposed, and suggested that an opening made in the centre of the ceiling,
would best effect the object in view.
" If it can be done?" inquiringly said the doctor.'Be done!" said Bunker, "yes, it can. Here, carpenter,
up in this chair with your tools, and make a hole through
there, in no time. This business is just beginning to get
through my hair."
A few moments sufficed to make an aperture about eight
inches square, opening into the attic story above; the square
form being adopted, as best comporting with the simple contrivance with which it was proposed to cover it —that of a
mere board slide, supported by cleats, in which it would play
back and forth, as the aperture required to be opened for




THE SCHOOILTASTER.                 119
ventilation, or shut to preserve the warmth of the room.
Scarcely had the workman time to adjust the slide in its
place, before every particle of impure air had apparently
escaped through the opening, to pass off by the crevices in
the roof. All felt and acknowledged the change, with astonishiment and delight.  The sensations of languor and oppression, that had begun to weigh heavily on the feelings and spirits
of the company, had left them  almost as unexpectedly and
suddenly as fell the bundle of sins from the back of Bunyan's
Pilgrim.
"Well, gentlemen," said Doctor Lincoln, as he looked
round, and saw in the speaking countenances of the company, that all were as well satisfied as they were gratifled at the result; "I believe the mystery is now solved.
At all events, I'll agree to cure, for nothing, all the scholars
that are hereafter made sick from any thing about the schoolhouse, or in the conduct of their master."
"Yes, the room is as clear as a horn, by George! " exclaimed Bunker, "and the thing is done — proved out as
square as a brick, right in our face and eyes; and there's
no getting away from it.  But what sticks in my crop is, that
we must have a man — and a book man, too, though  he
plainly do n't swallow books whole, without chewing, as most
of'em do - have a man come thirty miles to think it out for
us! Miaster, you and I ought to be trounced."
"Well, [Mr. MToderator," said the deacon's tormenter, the
rustic humorist, we mean, who was the first to take up for
Locke in the debate, and who now seemed greatly to enjoy
the triumph of the latter over the little clique of his chopfallen foes -" IVell, MIr. iloderator, how is it about the old
boy and his little blue influences, now?  Do n't you think
they've pretty much all cleared out through that hole up
yonder?  Ah! I was about right, deacon: if the old chap
had been any great affair, he could n't have crept out through




I.)              LOOKE AMSDEN, O0R
so small a hole as that comes to, quite so quick, you may depend on't."
But the deacon, who suddenly recollected a promise he had
made to carry, that night, some thorough-wort to a jaundery
neighbor, was in too much of a hurry to reply to such scofLing questions; and he, with one or two of his most zealous
supporters, immediately quitted the house, leaving the rest
of the vanquished party, whether superstitionlists or alarmists, to join the master and his increasing number of friends,
acknowledge their error, and reciprocate congratulations on
the unexpectedly happy result of the whole of this singular
affair. We say the whole; for, before the company broke up,
word was brought by one of the larger scholars, who had
gone over to Widow Marvin's during the meeting, and just
returned, that the sick boy there had fallen into a quiet
sleep, attended by gentle perspiration;-  symptoms which the
gratified doctor at once pronounced to be a plain indication
that the disease was going off, by what he technically termed
resolution. Amd the result, in this case at least, went to
prove the doctor's skill in prognostics.  The boy, after that
night, was consigned, by his departing physician, to the care
only of his grateful mother, who, within a fortnight, had the
unspeakable happiness of seeing her darling son restored to
health, and his still loved, but now more temperately pursued
studies.
Of the remainder of young Amsden's career in this district, little more need be added.  Compared with the trials,
vexations, and labors of the past, he now found but a path of
flowers.  The recent misfortune in his school, and the consequent infatuated movement to overthrow him, operating as
all overwrought persecutions usually do, instead of injuring
him, were the means of turning the popular current strongly
in his favor, and of giving him a place in the estimation of
nearly all aroundtld him, which he otberwise would bave failed




THE SCHOOLSIASTER.                121
to obtain. Being no further troubled with the injudicious interference of parents, or the misbehavior of their children,those two evils which too often require the best part of a
teacher's time and attention to meet and overcome them, — he
had nothing to do but instruct his pupils. And by no means
unprofitably did the latter use the opportunity thus afforded
them.  From a rough, wild, unthinking set of creatures,
who could appreciate nothing but animal pleasures or physical prowess, they became rational beings, ambitious for the
acquisition of knowledge, and capable of intellectual pleasures. A new standard of taste and merit, in short, had been
imperceptibly raised among them; and the winter that Locke
Amsden kept school became an era in the district, from
which commenced a visible and happy change in the whole
moral and intellectual tone of its society.
Nor were the advantages which attended his exertions in
this place wholly on one side. In teaching others, the master himself was often taught. Questions were daily put to
him, even by children in their abs, which led him to reflection, research, and discoveries of truths, which, thorough
scholar as he was, he found, to his surprise, he had before
overlooked, and which otherwise might never have occurred
to himn; —discoveries, we repeat, of imlportant truths, in
almost every study of his school, and particularly in those
of orthography, orthoepy, and etymology, those sadly neglected branches which require a philosopher to teach them
understandingly, but which are yet, oftener than otherwise,
entrusted to the teaching of an ignoramus!
In what is termed a physical education, also, he here received hints, which led him  to the adoption of much more
correct and enlarged views than any he had before entertained. His attention, indeed, had never been directed to
the subject; and he had therefore continued to look upon
it as did others around him, either as a matter of little im.




122                 LOCKE ASM5DEN.
portance, or, at best, as one which had no legitimate connec.
tion with popular education. But the painful and alarming
occurrences which we have described, as arising fiom the
want of ventilation in his school-house, taught him a lesson
which could not be disregarded or easily forgotten; caused
him to give an earnest consideration to this subject in all its
bearings, whether in relation to ventilation, length of confinement to study, or ease of position; and forced upon his mind
the conviction, that physical education, or an observance of
those laws of life which can only insure the health of the
body, and the consequent health of the mind, is, as truly as
any other, a part of an instructor's duty, for the performance
of which, before high Heaven, he will be held responsible.




CHAPTER VI.
"Low in the world, because he scorns its arts;
A man of letters, manners, morals, parts;
Unpatronized, and therefore little known;
Wise for himself and his few friends alone."
COWPER.
1AYING fulfilled his engagement in the Horn-of-the-lMoon,
and bid a regretful adieu to the many friends he had there
made, among the stanchest of whom was the straight-going
and strong-minded Bunker, young Amsden returned to his
family, with the intention of negociating, on some terms, with
his father, for his time, during the remainder of his minority,
that he might resume his studies. On naming the subject to
his parents, his father gave him the choice of serving out his
time, and receiving in return a portion of the homestead or
a new lot of land when he should become of age, or of going
now with nothing. Locke thanked him for the option, and
instantly decided to depart. His decision, however, was not
grounded on any dislike to an agricultural life; for, on the
contrary, he ever thought highly of that healthful and noble
avocation, which so early received the signal sanction of
Heaven. And ever since that charmed hour in which he
listened to the glowing picture of the life of the scientific
farmer, drawn by the stranger gentleman, whose visit, with
that of his bright-eyed daughter, was still secretly cherished
in remembrance, as an event which first fairly apprised him
he had a mind to be expanded, and a heart to be affected, he
had determined eventually to return to that life. But he
must first have knowledge, more knowledge, a lttle more.




124               LOCKE AMISDEN, OR
knowledge; and all the temptations of earth should not
divert him from his purpose. To gain this, he had, as we
have just mentioned, freely relinquished, for aught he knew,
his whole birthright; and so, with as little hesitation, would
he have done, had its value been tenfold greater than it was,
even had he been compelled to go forth as penniless as the
beggar of the streets. He was not finally permitted, however, to depart wholly unprovided. His good mother, who
had heard him reject the offers of his father, and dropped a
silent tear, - drawn forth, not at witnessing the sacrifice, but
the self-sacrificing and noble motive which had prompted it,again exerted her influence in his behalf, and not altogether
in vain. On the morning of his departure, he was furnished
with an outfit, which, with the limited amount of his winter's
wages, was sufficient to ensure his support for another year,
in his favorite pursuits. And with this little fund, and a light
heart, he was soon on his way to the public seminary he lhad
quitted the fall previous.  On reaching his destination, he
was cordially received by his old friend Seaver, who still
remained the successful head of the institution, to which
he was proud to welcome one whom, the year before, he had
esteemed its brightest ornament.
Hitherto, our hero had entertained no thought of entering
any higher institution of learning, than the one at which he
had been pursuing his studies. But, although he cared
nothing for the honors of a college diploma, he yet was certainly ambitious to be deserving of one. And, having long
since informed himself of the course of studies required to
complete a collegiate education, he had, during the latter part
of the preceding year, secretly directed his own studies with
a view of eventually mastering, in their order, all those sciences embraced in the course thus required. In pursuing
this object, he soon discovered how much his labors would be
Bhortened by the unusual extent of his acquirements in math



THE SCHOOLMAASTER.                125
ematics, which, with those branches immediately founded on
them, composed nearly half of the course in question.  Feeling conscious that, with the proficiency he had already made,
it would require but very little exertion to make him master
of the branches last mentioned, he had devoted his time and
energies almost wholly to the acquisition of the dead languages. And such had been his progress, that he now soon
found himself rapidly passing over the studies of the second
year of the prescribed course. For all this, however, he had
thus far, as before stated, formed no design of transferring
the scene of his labors to a college. But Seaver, who felt a
pride in the thought of furnishing the institution of which
he was a graduate, with a scholar of Locke's excellence, and
believing, moreover, that he should be promoting the best interests of the latter, now began to beset him to make up his
mind to leave the academy and enter college, by joining, if
he preferred, such of the upper classes as his qualifications
should be found to warrant.
"1Have you yet concluded," said the friendly preceptor,
coming to repeat his advice one day, some two or three
months from his pupil's return to the academy, -" have you
yet concluded, Mr. Amsden, to follow my suggestions with
regard to entering college?"
"No," replied Locke, "my means ale too limited; and
were it otherwise, your academy furnishes me with all the
advantages which I at present desire, and more than I can
fully improve. Great advantages do not always make great
scholars."
"True, too true," rejoined Seaver; "but yet you, probably, as do many others, greatly misapprehend the character
of the peculiar advantages of a college education. The sciences, indeed, may be equally well acquired elsewhere -even
more rapidly and perfectly, sometimes, perhaps, as may be
seen in the case of yourself, who, uninterrupted by the mul-.1 1




126               LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
tiplicity of exercises into which the student's time is cut up
in these institutions, have swept on, till you are already master of more science, I doubt not, than many of those who
pass from the walls of college with diplomas in their pockets.
And still you have not had-the opportunity of profiting by
the advantages I have named."
"In -what do these distinguishing advantages consist, let
me ask?"
"In this: - In the first place, you soon learn, in your intercourse and collision with so many intellects of all grades
and of all degrees of erudition, the exact measure of your own
mind -its weakness and its strength. This, in the walks of
life, must always be of incalculable advantage: it will teach
one what his self-esteem had before entirely concealed from
him- the certainty of a failure in many an aim which the
same blinding principle would have otherwise led him to attempt. And it will teach another that he possesses capabilities of which le was, perhaps, before wholly unconscious,
and thus lead him successfully to essay some noble goal, to
which, but for that, he would never have aspired or attained.
And, in the second place, among this congregation of talent,
consisting of the many hundreds of the votaries of learning,
with whomn you will be constantly associated, you will hear,
during your collegiate career, almost every possible subject,
pertaining not only to science, but all else that has ever
exercised the thoughts of men, discussed - discussed with
all the lights that can be thrown upon it, and settled, as far
as may be, by reference to professors, or other good authorities; so that you will be thus enabled to enter the mingled
world of men, who are too bustling and busy to think much
themselves, or allow others much time to do so, with a ready
store of sifted knowledge, which he who has acquired his
education in comparative solitude will rarely ever obtain.
And there is yet another consideration which will be impor.




THE SCROOLAASTER..127
tart, especially to you, who intend becoming a professional
teacher. You will receive a diploma of the graduate's degree, which perhaps may be indispensable in obtaining the
preceptorship of an academy —or, at least, so eligible a
one as your merits should command."
"Ay; but I propose to become a teacher of common
schools-"
" Till you can do better - is it not so, my friend?"
"No, Mr. Seaver, no. Both experience and observation
have shown me the sadly defective condition of our common
schools -those first nurseries of science, upon the management of which, as it appears to me, almost all that we prize
depends. They must not only foster and bring forward all
the germs that are transplanted into our higher institutions
of learning, which will flourish or decline according to the
numbers and quality of the supply thus furnished; but they
are the radiating points of intelligence to the great mass of
the community, that will become enlightened in proportion
as the light emitted from these points is strong or feeble.
But how can either of the two great objects I have named
be expected from schools conducted, as most of our common
schools now are, by those who need the very instruction they
are employed to impart to others? Men do not thus manage
the objects of their care in the physical world. There the
greatest skill and attention are always bestowed on the youngest plant, till it is nursed, moulded, and brought forward into
a shape and condition in which it will push up rightly of itself, or require less skilful hands to attend it. And yet the
parallel between the young plant and the young mind is in
every body's mouth!  MIy own wants and troubles in obtaining good instruction, when a boy, have led me to think much,
and feel deeply on this subject. And I have long since resolved that my feeble powers, as far as they may go, shall be
contributed to the object of remedying the existing evil; for




128              LOCKE AMISDEN, OR
there I think they will do the most good, and there I am very
sure they are the most needed."
" There is much force in your remarks, Mr. Amsden. The
condition of our common schools is indeed deplorable. And
the people of this country appear to be strangely blind on
the subject. They either do not see it in the just light in
which you have placed it, or they expect what they will never
see- men qualified for the task engaging as teachers of common schools, for wages which will not pay the interest of the
money and time - estimated at its worth in money - spent
by them in obtaining their qualifications. But why should
you, who are poor, be the first to make the sacrifice, which
you must make, if you engage in this employment?"
" And why should I not? I am satisfied that examples of
the kind must be set, and sacrifices be made, before the eyes
of the community will be opened to the difference between
what now is done, and what may be done, with our common
schools. And why, I repeat, should not I be the first to go
forward? The pecuniary sacrifice which I may be compelled
to make, will, with my present feelings, cause no abridgment of my happiness; and I shall rest content with the
pleasure of my employment, and the consciousness of doing
good for my reward."
" The purpose is indeed a high and noble one, Mr. Amsden; and my conscience will not permit me to say another
word in dissuasion. But, allowing that you persist in your
determination, does that - to return to the point from which
we started -does that circumstance furnish any answer to
the main part of the argument I have advanced as the
ground on which I advised you to change the present scene
of your studies to that of a college?"
"Perhaps not. Your views, Mr. Seaver, were certainly
new to me; and they have had sufficient weight on my mind
to determine me to reconsider the matter in question. But




THE SCHOOLMASTER.                 129
I must reflect before I can permit myself to decide. It is
possible that your arguments, as far as opinion is concerned,
may prevail."
And tile arguments of Seaver did prevail. The objected want of pecuniary means having been obviated by the
proffered assistance of the generous and high-minded friend
who had induced him to take the step, - Amsden, after a few
days spent in preparation, and in writing to apprise his friends
of his change of purpose, set out for the college to which he
had been recommended by his preceptor, and for which his
course of studies more particularly fitted him. Reaching the
institution, after little more than a day's journey, he immediately presented himself for examination; when, having been
found amply qualified, he was permitted to unite himself with
the Sophomores, at a time when they had been nearly two
years in college. And, within a fortnight from the time of
the conversation above detailed, he might have been found
within the classic walls of his newly adopted Alma Miater,
burning, in his eager pursuit of knowledge, the midnight oil,
where
----— " around the lamp that o'er
His chamber shed its lonely beam,
Was widely spread the varied lore
Which feeds, in youth, our feverish dream."
But alike vain and thankless would be the attempt to
interest the general reader in a description of the seemingly
dull and unvaried routine of a life of study. The student's
world is all within his own mind. There he finds enough to
engage, enough to interest him. Others, however, think not
of this, nor take note of the treasures he is silently hoarding
up for the rich and glorious appropriation of the future.
They can see nothing to admire in his listless, abstracted appearance; and when, in after times, he comes forth into the
active scenes of life, which call for an exhibition of his trea



130              LOCKE AMISDEN, OR
sured knowledge and wisdom, and in which the results of
years of toil are seen perhaps in a day, they are astonished
at his unexpected display of intellectual power, and wonder
why they had never heard or thought any thing of that man
before.
For nearly a year and a half, through vacations and all,
our hero applied himself, with all the enthusiasm and mental
energy with which he was so unusually gifted, in unremitting labor to the grateful task before him, not only perfecting
the particular sciences required of him, but extending his
researches into the broad and widening fields of general
knowledge. At the end of this period, however, having gone
over, in advance of his class, the little of actual study that
now remained to complete the whole course prescribed by the
rules of the institution to entitle him to a degree, he asked,
and very readily obtained, leave of a discretionary term of
absence, to enable him to replenish his pecuniary resources,
by resuming the avocation of teaching, which it was still his
unaltered purpose, in despite of all probable sacrifices, to
make the business of his life.




CHAPTEI  VII.
i  What differ more,' you cry,'than crown and cowl?"'
I tell you, friend,- a wise man and a fool."
POPE.
THE year was again drawing towards its close; and the
usual season for beginning winter schools had nearly arrived.
In his journeys to and from college, at the time of his matriculation, and afterwards on his occasional brief visits to
his family, young Amsden had passed through a thriving
little village, which was generally known by the name of
Mlill Town, but which its ambitious inhabitants had recently
thought to dignify, by re-christening it by the more sonorous
and classical appellation of IMill Town Emporium. The village, numbering perhaps two hundred souls, contained a
store, a tavern, a cluster of mills, and several very sprucelooking dwelling-houses, among which the newly-painted twostory house of the merchant glared in conspicuous whiteness.
And, as our hero was now on his way homeward, and in
search of some good situation in a winter's school, which he
had neglected to secure, - though many eligible ones had been
offered him, which he had declined on account of their location, -he concluded to call at this place, in order to ascertain
whether he might not here obtain a situation, which for him
might prove a desirable one, as the village. was pleasantly located on the main road leading to, and within half a day's
ride from, the residence of his family, with whom he wished to
keep up a personal intercourse. Upon inquiry of the bustling
keeper of the inn where he stopped, Locke was told that the




132              LOCKE AMISDEN, OR
village school had not yet been supplied with a teacher; and
that the managing committee, consisting of the merchant of
the place, the tailor, and the newspaper editor (for a political
newspaper, called The Blazing Stear, had just been established
in this miniature city), " were now on the look-out to engage
a man of those splendidest qualifications which the growing
importance of the place demanded." Though somewhat
startled at this pompous announcement, our candidate yet
took directions to the house of the merchant, who, it was
said, would probably exercise a rather controlling influence
among this able board of managers. A few steps brought
him to the showy white house before named, as belonging to
the popular personage - as an only merchant of a little village generally is - of whom he was in quest. On applying
the knocker, the door was opened by the merchant himself,
who appeared with a pen behind his ear, and. invited the other
into his sitting' room, where it appeared he had been posting
his books. He was a youngerly man, of an affectedly brisk
and courteous manner.  Supposing his visiter had called
for the purposes of trade, he received him with all the smirks
and bows of a practised salesman, and began to talk rapidly
about nothing - i. e. the state of the weather, and the condition of the roads for travelling. As soon, however, as Locke
announced his name and business, he -suddenly became much
less profuse of his bows and smiles, and, assuming a consequential air, observed, -
Why, sir, we are not over-anxious to engage a teacher
just now - though, to be sure, we have so many applications
pressing upon us, that we shall be compelled to decide soon.
But you see, sir, we have a flourishing village here. It is
thought we shall have an academy soon. There are many
public-spirited and genteel people in the place; and they will
not be suited with any thing short of a teacher of the most
superfine qualifications."




THE SCHOOLMASTER.                1833
"I trust to be able to answer all reasonable expectations,
in that respect," remarked Amsden, scarcely able to repress
a smile at the other's singular application of terms.
"Presume it - presume it - that is, can't say to the contrary. But do you bring any letters of credit with you? "
" Credentials? I have something of the kind about me,
I believe; but having seen how easily they are obtained, and
how little reliance the public place upon them, I thought not
of offering them, preferring to be examined, and not doubting that your committee would be abundantly able to satisfy
yourselves of my qualifications by such a course much better
than by a dependence on the certificates of others."
" That's fair - that's fair, sir. Why, to be sure, I profess
to know something myself about education, having been to
an academy a quarter before entering business; and the gentlemen who are committee with me, one the editor of the
Blazing Star, and the other the merchant tailor of our village, are both men of some parts - especially our editor,
whom I consider to be a man of splendid talents. I will
send for them, sir."
So saying, the merchant committee-man went out and despatched a boy for his colleagues, who soon made their appearance, and were thereupon introduced, in due form, to our
candidate for the throne of a village school. The newv-comn
ers also were both men below the middle age. He of the
goose (we mean no disrespect to that honest calling, who take
all the jokes and get all the money) was a man of a fair,
feminine appearance, of pert, jaunty manners, and of showy
dress, done in the very extremes of last year's city fashions,
though recently made, and now worn as a sort of sign-board
sample to display constantly before the great public of Mill
Town Emporium, and its tributaries, convincing proof of his
signal ability to make good the glowing professions of his
standing advertisement in the Blazing Star, " to be always
12




134               LOCKE AMISDEN, OR
prepared to cut and make to order after the very latest New
York and London fashions."  Tile editor was a personage of
quite a different appearance. He was grave and severe of
look, his countenance plainly indicating how deeply he was
conscious of the important responsibilities of his position, as
conductor of the Blcazing Star, on which the political destinies of the country so much depended.
The sage trio, who were to decide on our hero's qualifications in the sciences, being thus brought together, the merchant announced to his colleagues the cause of the convocation,
and the progress already made in the business on hand.
"Do you teach after the latest style and fashion of teaching, sir?" commenced the tailor, "there must be much in
that, I think. There is nothing like keeping up with the improvements and latest style of the times, if one calculates to
succeed, in almost any thing, at this day."
"As far as I could see changes to be improvements, I certainly should follow them," replied Locke.
"Do you teach book-keeping?" asked the merchant: "I
consider that to be of the last importance."
" Literally, so do I, sir. An understanding, and mechanical skill of execution, of the principles of penmanship, I consider of the first importance; and, these attained, it may be
be lastly important that the pupil be instructed in book-keeping," answered Locke, without observing the -air of pique
which became visible in the countenance of the interrogator
at this answer.
" I feel impelled by my sense of duty to my country," said
the editor, "to make a preliminary question. And I trust
the gentleman will excuse my desire to know which of the
two great political parties of the day he supports. This I
would not consider a sine qua non, or even very important,
at some periods in our public affairs; but when, as now, I see
an obnoxious party power stalking through the land, like the




THIE SCHOOLMASTER.                135
besom of destruction, to overthrow the sacred liberties of the
country, I do hold it an imperious duty to know the principles
of those we encourage; not because I should fear that one
of that party, whose further increase I so much deprecate,
could exercise a pernicious influence in our intelligent village,
where, since the establishment of the Blazing Star, the
political views of the people, I am proud to say, are so generally correct -no, not at all on that account, but for the
inherent principle of the thing."
"I have never," replied Locke, utterly surprised that a
test-question of this kind should be put to him, "I have
never, till within the present year, been qualified by age for
a voter. I have examined the leading principles of our government, it is true, and I much admire them; but, supposing
that the opposing parties of the day were all mainly agreed
in their aims to sustain those principles, and were, after all,
only disputing about men, or at the worst, the different means
of gaining the same end, I have so little interested myself in
party questions, that I have as yet formed no decided preferences for either side."
"You are mistaken, sir," rejoined the editor. "If you
suppose that both parties are for sustaining the same principles, you are most" -
The speaker was here interrupted by a smart rap of the
knocker without. The merchant sprang to the door, and
soon ushered into the room a personage alike unexpected
and unknown to all present. His appearance at once showed
him to be a person of many airs, with no lack of confidence
in himself. He carried a tasselled cane, and wore a showy
safety-chain, with an abundance of watch-seals, to say the
least, dangling from his pocket, while his dress was what has
significantly been termed the shabby-genteel. After inquiring if the gentlemen present were the school committee, he
announced his business, which, to the surprise, and, it must




136              LOCKE AMISDEN, Olt
be confessed, somewhat to the uneasiness of our hero, proved
to be the same that had prompted his own call. The committee, however, seemed very far from looking upon the visit
of the stranger as an intrusion; and, apprising him that they
had just commenced the examination of one candidate, they
told him " the more the merrier," as it would afford them a
better chance for selection, and invited him to make number
two; which being assented to, they proceeded with the examination.
"What are your views, Mr. Blake - for that, I think, you
told me was your name " - said the editor, whose mind was
still running on the subject on which he was about to be eloquent, when interrupted by the entrance of the new candidate; "What are your views of the propriety of instilling
correct political principles into the minds of your pupils, who
are the rising generation, and soon to wield the destinies of
our glorious republic?"
" I hold, sir," replied Blake, who, it appeared, had cunningly inquired out the calling, politics, &c., of each of the
committee, before coming near them,-' I do hold, though others may disagree with me, that it is rather important to attend
lo the particular you have instigated, sir. I'm always open
in my politics. I read several articles in a newspaper over
at the tavern, just now, while waiting for my dinner, that
speaks my sentiments on that head exactly."
"What paper was it?" eagerly asked the editor.
"I did n't mind particularly," replied the other, with affected carelessness; " but I think it was the Star, or some such
title."
"The Blazing Star?" said the former, with a complaisant
bow.
"The same," rejoined Blake,'the very same; I now
recall it."
" That is the paper, sir, which I have the honor of con



THE SCHOOLMASTER.                 137
ducting," said the other, with another bow, and a gracious
smile.
"Indeed!  WAVhy, sir," said Blake, with pretended embarrassment, " why, sir, had I supposed - but I was so struck
with the able -I hope you will pardon me, sir, for introducing" -
"0 certainly, certainly, sir," interrupted the editor. "I
feel myself b)oth flattered and gratified by your opinions.
There, gentlemen," he continued, turning  with a triumphant
air to his two associates, " I have done what I considered my
duty with the. candidates, on the point in which I feel a deep
interest. I am now willing to turn them over to you, for
examination in the sciences."
"I should like to hear what Mr. Blake thinks about
teaching book-keeping in a school, since I have the misfortune to disagree with the other gentleman here," said the
merchant.
"Book-keeping? " said Blake, instantly catching a hint
from the last part of the other's observation.  "0, bookkeeping is quite essential - quite, sir, quite; I always learn
it to my pupils."
" I think so; I think it's an important item in the account,"
responded the merchant, glancing round at his colleagues,
significantly, as he threw himself back with a self-satisfled air.
"I have a boy," said the tailor, " whom is pretty cute in
grammar, as all allow; and I would be pleased to hear the
gentlemen explain on that department, and tell whether their
mode and manner of teaching it is of the latest style?"
M3r. Blake here being not so prompt as usual in taking the
lead, Amsden briefly but clearly explained the first principles of English Grammar, the object and uses of that branch,
and his manner of teaching it by the text-books of ]Murray
12*




138               LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
and others. The other candidate, after waiting till pressed
to give his views in so pointed a manner, that he saw no way
to avoid saying something on the subject —with some hesitation observed,
"Well, gentlemen, my notions about grammar may be different from others, perhaps yours. Now my sentiments is
something like this:- the true use of grammar is to learn'erm sense. Well, in what the gentleman here calls parsing
Syntax, JI now, should make my scholars find out the sense
of a piece. And if they can do that, it is all I should require; because the only use of grammar being to learn'em
the sense, as I said, why, the work is done, a n't it? I take
it so, gentlemen.  But suppose they can't do this, then I
should take the piece in hand myself; and if I could not
make sense out of it, then I should call it false grammar,
that's all. So when I have my scholars write compositions,
I square the grammar of their pieces upon the sense they
contain; for where there's sense, there must, in course, be
grammar; and visy versy. Now that's my system, gentlemen. For I have no notion of spoiling sense to make it fay
in with book rules; but I make the grammar come down to
the sense, not the sense give up to the grammar."
"Just my sentiments, to a shaving!" exclaimed the merchant. I used to study grammar when at the academy, and
bothered and bothered to parse by the rules; but I never
could see the use of it. And now, in my business letters, I
never think of trying to write by any of the rules I learnt;
and yet I write grammar, because I write sense, as he says.
Yes, them's my sentiments about grammar."
"Well, it does look kinder reasonable," said the tailor,
"though my boy learnt the rules, syntax, and catemology,
and all; and I do n't know what he would say to leaving'em
off. But perhaps this way of teaching grammar the gentle



THE SCHOOLMASTER.                 139
man speaks of is some new imported fashion, that's soon to
be all the style? " he added, inquiringly looking at the patent
grammarian who had just before spoken.
"Precisely," answered the other, with a conciliating nod;
"it is indeed, sir, a new system, of the very latest cut."
"I am satisfied, then, sir," rejoined the other.
"Which is the most useful rule in arithmetic, Mr. Amsden?" asked the merchant. "I profess to know something
about that, myself."
" Why, that would be nearly as difficult to tell, I imagine,
as i'egards all the fundamental rules, as it would be to point
out the most useful wheel of a watch, in which all the wheels
are required to keep the whole in motion," replied Locke.' Now I do n't think so," said the questioner; "but I' 11 ask
Mr. Blake?"
" O, I say the rule that helps a man most to do business
by, and you know quite well what that is, I fancy; for you
tell what the- articles you sell come to by that," observed
Blake, obsequiously bowing to the merchant.
"Ay; I see you are a practical man, Mr. Blake," here
chimed in the editor; "and such men are the very nerves
and sinews of our republic."
"I care less about that," rejoined the merchant; "but I
must say I approve the gentleman's views of grammar and
arithmetic. But suppose we now pass on to geography"How do you bound the Polar Sea, Mr. Amsden?"
"W hich Polar Sea?" asked Locke, quite innocently.
" Why, the Frozen Sea, to be sure," said the other.
"I must still ask to which Polar or Frozen Sea you refer,
sir, before I can answer your question," said the former;
"the Northern or Southern?"
"Well, that beats me," observed the erudite dealer; "I
had supposed the Frozen Ocean was, of course, in the north;
for we all know that the farther we go north, the colder it is;




140              LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
and the farther we go south, the warmer it is. Do n't you
think so, Mir. Blake?"
"Why, I had thought so, certainly," responded Blake,
glancing at Amsden with a supercilious smile - " not that I
have any wish to expose any body's ignorance, by any
means; but being appealed to in the matter, so, it's but civil
to answer the question. And, now I am speaking on the
subject of geographical literature, I may as well, gentlemen,"
he continued - deeming it now a favorable time to press the
advantage he supposed he had gained over his rival, by an
extra display of his erudition-" I may as well tell you at
once, that I rather pride myself on my knowledge of terrestrial geography, and my improved modes of teaching it. I
teach it almost entirely by maps, and the map-making process.
And it would astonish you to see how quick scholars, in this
way, will become accomplished geographians. I learn'em,
in a very short time, also, to make the most splendid maps,
equal, nearly, to the printed ones, of all sorts and sizes, both
on MAlercator's project, as they call it, and on the principle of
circular latitudes. Nor is this but a small part of the embellishments I teach my scholars, when they have the proper
instruments to work with. There's the problems and the
circles, the squares, triangular geometry, ovals, perspective
configurations, and a thousand curious things, I could teach,
if I only had the instruments; such as Gunter's dividers, circumflutors, and the like. And then I would teach musical
psalmody, of evenings, for nothing, which, as I see you are
about building a new church here, might be an object. In
short, gentlemen, I should be very happy to add my best
powers in accomplishing your children, and helping to build
up your flourishing village. But I leave the decision to you,
gentlemen, with the greatest pleasure; because I have discovered you to be men of the most ecstatic discernment."
As soon as the speaker had fairly delivered himself of this




THE SCHOOLMASTER.                 141
learned harangue, Amsden, who knew not which most to admire, the effrontery and ignorance of the fellow, or the igno.
rance and blindness of the committee, who seemed so readily
to swallow all he said - inquired if there was not some man
of science in the place, who could be called in to conduct the
examination, and assist the committee in deciding upon the
merits of the applicants now before them. This inquiry, as
reasonable and fair as was its obvious object, produced, as a
close observer might have easily seen, considerable sensation
in the before well-assured mind of Locke's exulting competitor; and his uneasiness was the next moment increased into
downright apprehension, by a remark of the tailor, who, in
a rather hesitating manner, said, -
"Why, there's the minister that preaches half the time
here - and he's now in the place, I guess. He's a collegelearnt man, they say, and would be willing to come in, perhaps, if -"
" Why, if these gentlemen," interrupted Blake, rising in
visible agitation, "if these gentlemen do n't consider theamselves capable of deciding on our qualifications and embellishments, then, I say, I am willing-perfectly willing, I
say, to ""Well, I am not," interposed the luminous head of the
Blazing Star, with much decision. " I shall most pointedly
object to that measure. I should consider it as no less than
involving an approach to a sanction of that never-to-beenough reprobated doctrine of the union of church and state.
And I should raise my voice " -
" Ahl! I think we can get along," said the merchant, breaking in on the latter, and now rising and looking at his watch
with an impatient and irritated air, "I think we can get
along without the help of the minister in this business. And
if the two gentlemen," he continued, with rather a discriminating gesture, "; will step into the other room, or over to the




142               LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
tavern, we can probably come to a decision of the case without much trouble, I think."
The two candidates accordingly retired, -Blake into the
adjoining room, and Amsden, as was doubtless intended, to
the tavern, - to give to the astute trio of examiners an opportunity for private deliberation.
"Shall we mark, gentlemen?" said the merchant, cutting
three separate slips of paper, and passing two of them to his
colleagues, with a pencil, that each might write the name of
the candidate he would select, and present it for comparison
with those of the others, after the manner of appraising a
horse.
" Well, if I was fully satisfied about Mr. Blake's grammar"- said the tailor, doubtingly, holding his pencil over
his paper.
" I am satisfied about it well enough for my case," observed
the merchant, dashing down the chosen name with a decisive
sweep of the hand.
"And so am I," responded the editor; "and what is more,
he is sound in political principles, to the core.
" 0, I an't strenuous, gentlemen," said the tailor, following the example of the others in filling his blank.
The three slips, with the written sides downward, were
then held up together, and turned over, bringing the name on
each to view. And it was Blake - Blake - Blake!
"As I supposed," said the merchant; "just as I knew it
must be. Boy," he continued, opening the door leading into
the kitchen, "you may step over to the tavern, and say to
the gentleman who just went from here, that he needn't
trouble himself to call again. And, here! take this decanter,
and get it filled with the best wine at the store. We will
call in Mir. Blake, and settle the terms with him, over a bottle
of my nice Madeira; for I feel like taking a bumper on the
occasion."




THE SCHOOLMASTER.                143
Meanwhile Locke, who was travelling horseback, but too
well anticipating the result of the deliberation just described,
had ordered his horse to the door, and stood impatiently waiting for some sign or message from the white house, which
should apprise him of the decision of the committee. The
message came even sooner than he expected, and was delivered by the boy literally, and no less cavalierly than it was
indited by his master. The next instant our rejected candidate was in his saddle, and leaving Mill-Town Emporium at
a pace which his sober steed appeared to wonder should be
required by one who before had shown himself so moderate
and gentle a rider.
As soon as his feelings, smarting with chagrin and vexation at his mortifying defeat, and the folly and ignorance
which, he believed, alone had occasioned it, -as soon as his
excited feelings had sufficiently subsided to permit of connected thought, he reined his thankful horse into a walk, to
try to review the novel occurrences he had just witnessed,
and bestow upon them something like sober reflection.
"What does education avail me?" he despondingly soliloquized, as he thought over his recent reception, and how he
had been set aside for an ignorant coxcomb, or at best a pitiful smatterer. " The more I study, the worse I succeed.
Yes, what avails all this intellectual toil, if my acquirements
thereby are to be thus rewarded?"  And as he pondered
upon these discouraging circumstances, he almost resolved to
abandon for ever all thought of that noble employment to
which he had so often declared his intention to devote himself.
Locke had, thus far, had no acquaintance with aught but country life, with which he had been accustomed to associate ideas
of comparative ignorance and degradation, while his mind had
been directed to villages and cities, as the exclusive seats of
intelligence and refinement. Like many another modest




144              LOCKE AMISDEN, OPR
country lad of merit, he would have bowed in deference to
the pert dashing villager or citizen, as his supposed superior,
when the latter, probably, possessed not a tithe of his own
worth in all that should constitute true excellence of character. For he had not learned that the people of cities and
villages, as a mass, are, generally, less thinking, and often,
less reading communities, than those formed of the residents
of the country, who, finding themselves outshone by the
former in external appearance, are thus driven to depend
more on intrinsic qualities on which to base a reputation,
leaving the others to dazzle by show, and, too often only,
" To measure their worth by the cloth of their coats."
It was not very strange, therefore, that with impressions
and views like those just named, contracted through a limited
knowledge of the world, young Amsden should have presented himself at MSill-Town with a high opinion of the intelligence of its inhabitants, or that his disappointment should
be great at finding things so exactly the reverse of what he
had anticipated. A knowledge of the world as it is would
have taught him that what he had witnessed was no miracle,
even in the most favored parts of our land of boasted intelligence; and it might have taught him also, that he who
would succeed must always, in some measure, adapt the
means he employs to the compass of the minds of those with
whomn he desires success.
As Locke was slowly jogging onward, deeply engrossed in
reflections which grew out of the occasion, and no less deeply
dejected in spirits at the dark and discouraging prospects before him, he met a man in a sulky, who, in passing him, suddenly halted, and pronounced his name. Looking up at the
traveller, now for the first time, the former at once recognized
him to be no other than Dr. Lincoln, the kind and gifted




THE SC HOOLIMASTER.               145
physician, with whom he had formed so interesting an acquaintance at his school in the Horn-of-the-Moon.
"Why, this is a singular affair, this meeting you just at
this time and place," said the doctor, gaily, after the usual
salutations had been exchanged. "I am almost minded to
quote a homely old proverb; for I have not travelled forty
rods since I was thinking of you, and really wishing that I
knew where you might be found. But more of that anon.
HIow has the world used you since I parted with you, MIlr.
Amsden?"
" Mainly well - quite so, indeed, if I except a little vexation of to-day's occurrence."
c; And what has crossed your path to-day of an unpleasant
nature?  I perceived at the first glance that your countenance wore a look of dejection that did not formerly belong
to it."
"0, it is nothing of consequence, sir."
"In one sense, it may be. I have long since observed, sir,
that there is no way in which a disturbed mind can be sooner
restored to its natural equilibrium, than by a disclosure of its
burden to others; even though it receive no sympathy in
return. We are made social beings; and the law of our
nature cannot be contravened with impunity here, any more
than in more important matters. The cause of your trouble
is none of my business to be sure; but a communication of
it, I will venture to say, will lighten your heart. And it is
best to enjoy all the happiness we can get, you know. So
let us have your story."
Struck with the kind interest which the other seemed to
take in his concerns, Locke proceeded to give him a minute
detail of all the circumstances attending his application for
the school in the village he had just left, his examination,
and the result of the whole affair.
"' And what opinion did you form of your successful rival?"
13




146                 LOCKE AMSDENT, OR
aslked the doctor, after indulging in a hearty laughla at some
parts of the story.
"Why, tlhat he was a pitiful ignoramus, to be sure."'Undoubtedly; but yet a fellow of considerable tact, and
a pretty keen insight into the weaeinesses of men, and the
unworthy passions and selfish motives that too often govern
them.  And all this he had need of, to succeed upon pretensions so ridiculous; but with it, you see, he did succeed, and
that too, at fearful odds against him.  With what low cunning he first inquired the characters of the committee! -for
such, as you suppose, was probably the case.  And thein how
eagerly lie seized on the first opportunity to bedaub them
with flattery, rightly judging that, in this instance, the words
of the poet would hold good,'-flattery never seemis absurdclThe flattered always tlake your wovrd."
And having thus secured the feelings and prejudices of the
committee for himself, lie appears fairly to have exemplified,
with them, the truth of another line of the same writer, by
making
" Impossibilities seem just."
Indeedl, sir, I think the fellow, who m-ay be a broken-ldown
pedler, or possibly a discardcled subscription agent of catchpenny books or periodicals, managed his slender stockl in
trade to pretty good advantage.  I see but one blunder that
need at all to have endangered himi  with his learned examiners, -- that was his mention of " circuVquftors," meaning,
probably, t.o 1h-ve hit on circumfcnrentors, of which he might
have heard froxm snmp students or surveyors with whom lie
chanced to fall in comrpaqny, per.rlps:  But even that blunder,
it seems, passed unnoticed,  O, yes/' continued the doctor,




THE SCHOOMASTER.                  147
with aln ironical slmile, " this fellow ma-naged his part to ad
miration,. But what shall we say of that committee, who,
both throua,  ignorance and will, have thus betrayed their
Crust?  And, furthermore, what shall we say of the people
of that village, who so blindly conferred that important trust
on such men? But we may spare words; for the employment
of this imposter will fall as a judgment on their children, in
the shape of errors imbibed, that will sufficiently punish these
people for their unpardonable blindness and folly. And I
will here tell you, 3Mr. Amsden, we have more to do in improving the condition of our common schools than to increase
the number of qualified teachers. We have got to appoint
managing  committees who are qualified to discover and
appreciate them.  But enough of this; where do you think
of looking for a school now, my dear sir?"
"I know not where to look, or what to do," replied Locke,
despondingly.'I am  poor, and need, particularly at this
time, the anmount of what would be respectable wages.  But
our country schools afford so little remuneration; and as for
the villages, you see what my success is with them."
"Do n't despair quite so soon, sir," said Lincoln, a little
roguishly; "you may find some men in other villages of a
little larger pattern than that of the learned trio you just
encountered.  What say you to coming to Cartersville, and
talking the school in the district where I live?"
"I  would," replied Locke, "if you were to be the examining committee."
" Well, I shall be," rejoined the doctor, "for all the examination I shall want of you."
"c How am I to take you, sir?" asked the former, with a
doubtful air.
a "Why, that, as it strangely happens, I am sole committee,
myself," answered the doctor.
" Indeed!  is it possible? " exclaimed Locke, unable to con



148                ILOCKE AMSDEIN.
ceal the pleasure that this unexpected announcement occa
sioned hiim.
" It happens, for once, to be so," said the otlher. "About
a week since, being at home, and at leisure, I, for the first
time for years, attended our annual school-meeting, and was,
partly out of sport, I do believe, voted inl sole committee-man,
nobody believing I would accept the ofiic. I, however, after
giving them my views as to the lind of teacher we needed,
his compensation, &c., told the meeting I would accept, if.
they would alloiw me to do exactly as I chose, without grumbling. And, they finally consenting', I took upon myself the
really important duties of that post. And it was with a view
of faithfully discharging them, that I was just thinking of
you, as a teacher who would do much. towards raising the
low condition of our school.  You shall name your own
wages, if within any reasonable sum, and the length of your
engagement for any period short of six months.  What say
you to all this, my friend?"
It is needless to say how gladly these proposals were accepted by our hero. And, having settled the details of the
bargain, he bade adieu, for the present, to his kind friend,
and with a countenance as grateful and sunny, as, one half
hour before, it had been gloomy and dejected, resumed his
journey homewards, to spend a happy week with his family,
before entering on his new engagement.




CHAPTER VIII.'Not long the house so raised, so prop'd, can stand;
For, like the fool's,'t is built upon the sand."
PARNE L.
THIE place to which we will now repair, as the seat of the
future operations of our schoolmaster, was a thriving interior
village, with a population of something over a thousand.
Its name, Cartersville, was derived from that of its founder,
a Mr. Carter, an enterprising individual, who, some forty or
fifty years before the period of our story, here established
himself, erected several kinds of mills, and opened a store,
which, with the natural advantages of the location, soon drew
around them  the buildings and shops of other settlers, till
the place swelled, at length, into a village of considerable importance, with, perhaps, even more than the usual comple-:ent of mechanics' shops, taverns, stores, churches, and fine
dwelling houses.  At the time of which we are writing, the
first Carter, whom we have named as the principal founder
of this village, had been dead many years. He had amassed,
during a prosperous and active life, an amount of property,
which, for a country merchant, was considered very large.
This he had left to three sons and a daughter.  Two of the
sons became spendthrifts, soon squandered their portions,
and left the country.  The daughter, who was now dead,
had married a man that had lost her portion also, and gone
abroad, but little better than bankrupt.  The remaining son,
who alone inherited any of his father's talents for business,
13*




150               LOCKE AIISDEN, 0R
or attempted to improve on the property left him, continued
in the trade to which he had been brougLt up, that of umerchandise, and was now accounted the rich man of tile place,
being extensively engaged in business, and still a mlan of
industry and good calculations in traffic, though otherwise a
person of rather contracted notions. His family, however,
consisting of a wife and three daughters, were of small advantage to him, either in improving his property, or in elevating his character, - at least not to any correct standlard
of moral action.  For his wife was a woman of false tastes,
and of affectedly fashionable habits; and accordingly she hnad
brought up her daughters, who, as might be expected undler
such maternal guidance, had little to boast, of which they
had reason to be proud, being vain, empty-headed~, wronlghearted girls, fond of expensive display, priding themselves
upon their father's wealth, talking much about family distinction, and only ambitious to be looked up to -as they
unfoitunately were by the young society of the place - as a
sort of inapproachable standard in dress, and all lmatters pertaining to what they deemed stylish life, and to be considered,
as they considered themselves, the very
" Glass of fashion and the mould of form."
This family belonged to the school district in which Locke
Amsden was now enlgaged as a teacher for the ensuing winter; but, being above patronizing a common school for the
purposes of educating their children, Mr. and Mi[rs. Carter,
or rather BMrs. Carter, in conjunction with two or three other
wealthy families of similar views, had established a private
school, or select academy, as they called it, which was designed to afford the means of what they chose to term a
genteel education, leaving the district schools of the village
to be attended by the children of less distinguished families,
and all those who had tastes for nothing better. At the head




THrE SCTOIOLX'[ASTER.              151
of this establis3h1Smet w:S at present, a fellow whose mind,
manners, qualifications, and general character, admirably
fitted him for such a station.  He wrote himself Ma'cnlius C.
VI. Tilden, Professor of Elegant Literature; and tau(ght crowquill penmanship, drawing sundry problems in geometry,
French, fashionable pronunciation, and the whole round of
what he designated belles-lettres accomplishments, including
music upon the piano, flagelet, &c., if required.  The tendency of this school had been, as might be expected, to create
envy, as little as there was reason for it, towards the favored
few who attended it, and to cause the common schools to be
neglected and looked upon with contempt. And Dr. Lincoln,
who was a maln of science, and an abominator of every thing
of the tinsel order, was the first man to whora it occurred
that it was a matter of importance to attempt to elevate the
character of the common schools of the place, both to counteract the influence we have namned, which he considered in
all respects baneful, and to make those schools what they
should be for public benefit.
Towards night on the day previous to the one appointed
for entering upon his engagement, young Amsden arrived in
the village to which we have just introduced the reader, and
immediately repaired to the residence of his employer, Dr.
Lincoln.
"Your arrival just lnow is most opportune, Air. Amsden,"
said Lincoln, shaking the other heartily by the hand; " for I
hope to have the remainder of the afternoon to myself, uninterrupted by professional calls, to enable me to spend a little
time with you, in introducing you at your boarding place
(for we have concluded to board you at one place), visiting
with you our school-house, and in apprising you, in some
neasure, of the difficulties you will have to encounter, if you
earn your money, as I intend you shall. But, come, sir,




L5 2              LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
walk into the house first - you will stay with us through the
night, and we will talk over these matters at our leisure."
The doctor then ushered the other into his house, and
introduced him to his wife, a bighly intelligent and agreeable
lady, who, with her husband,- they having no children, -
and a domestic of each sex, constituted the whole family.
After a pleasant half-hour spent in general conversation,
the doctor and his guest set forth to visit the school-house,
as the former had proposed.
"You have rather a large proportion of fine dwellinghouses in your village, have you not, doctor?" said Amsden,
as they gained the street, and proceeded on their way.
"It may be so," replied the doctor. " Somle ambitious
people, in tinmes past, erected several expensive buildings;
since which many others, having imbibed the idea that social
hEappiness is dependent on the size of the house where it is
to be enjoyed, have followed the example; less for their own
good, in some instances, I believe, than the good appearance
of the village."
"Quite possible. But to whoim belongs that large house,
up yonder, observed Locke, pointing to a castle-like building,
standing on an eminence, a little aloof from all others.
"0, that is the residence of the Carter family," answered
the other. "This village took its name from the father of
the owner of that house. The old gentleman. was a stirring
man, in his day, and died very wealthy. And his son, who
built that fabric, is esteemed by some to be now equally
rich; though he built, as some shrewd ones would have it,
not so much according to his own judgment, as on his wife's
somewhat different scale of greatness."
"It is a showy thing, indeed," rejoined the former;'" but
still I fancy it less than that much smaller, but more truly
elegant house, as I should esteem it, standing within the bor



THE SCHOOLMASTER.                  153
ders of that beautiful farm, lying to the east of the Carter
establishment."
" Al! that was built by a man of true taste, and one of the
finest of gentlemen," said the doctor, warmly. " He married
the daughter of the elder Carter, and received that farm as her
dowry. But he got entangled by his profligate brothers-inlaw, and lost the whole establishment, which went into the
hands of city creditors, while the unfortunate debtor was left
to shift for himself, and, finally, to go to foreign lands, and
there die, as is now generally supposed."
By this time they reached the school-house, which was
situated in a noisy business corner, about ten paces from the
street, with a blacksmith's shop on one side, and a cooper's
on the other.
"Here is your palace, my lord of the birchen sceptre,"
said Lincoln, giving the other a good-natured slap on the
shoulder.
" Ay, but it is rather near the street here; is it not, doctor?" remarked Amsden.
" True," replied the former, ironically; "but do n't you
perceive the wise design of that?  It is to inure the children
to the danger of being run over, and horses to the danger of
being frightened, to the peril of the necks and limbs of
their drivers."
"You succeed so well in reasons," observed the other,
laughing, " that I will hear you tell why the house is made
to stand between two such noisy shops."
" 0, the idea," answered Lincoln, in the same strain, " the
idea must have been taken from the classics; as you scholars, I think, should at once perceive.  Demosthenes, you
know, practised oratory amid the roar and racket of waterfalls. And who knows how much the future orators, that
shall have been educated in this school, will be indebted for




154               LOCIKE AM3DEN,  OR
their good articulation to the clinking of these hammers, of
which you appear so disposed to complain?"
They then entered the house for an inspection of the inter
rior, whose miserable construction and arrangement were the
same as are still a greater part, perhaps, of common schoolhouses at the present day.
"I had looked to see things different here," remarked
Locke, glancing round the room, as they entered it.  But
you have the same construction of seats as is seen so generally elsewhere —close, narrow, and all of an equal height;
so that, while the limbs of the larger pupils are cramped
up, and otherwise rendered uncomfortable, the feet of the
little ones are left dangling in the air."
"W' Why, the object of that plan doubtless is," said the doctor, "to train the legs of the large ones to occupy a modest
space in this world, and to cause those of the little ones to
become so benumbed by hanging over the corners of the
seats, which will thus impede the circulation of the blood in
the arteries and veins, as to take away the troublesome desire
of the restless creatures to run about, and go out of doors.
And is not the custom sanctioned by that old and refined
nation, the Chinese, who cramp the feet, &c., of their children? And are not the modern corsets of the intelligent and
fashionable ladies of our own enlightened land, used on the
same principle?"
" And then these seats," resumed the former, without replying to the comments of the other, whose ironical meaning
he perfectly understood; " these seats, as usual, rise from the
front here, where we stand, like the seats of an old amphitheatre -rise one above another, till the last one, yonder, is
nearly half way up to the ceiling; so that the pupils on'the
upper tiers of the seats will be uncomfortably warm, in the
heated air which always occupies the upper portion of the




TH:E SCHOOL.MASTER.                155
room, while the pupils on the lower seats will be, at the same
time, perh'aps, as uncomfortably cold."
" Very true," rejoined Lincoln, "very true; but then the
object in this, also, is perfectly plain - it is to have the softest heads in the school placed up there to be baked over, so
that they may be on a par with the others."
"Well, I wonder," remarked Locke, now laughing heartily
at the satirical hit of the other,    nderin view of the
other conveniences of the house, how the matter of ventilation came ever here to be thought of, as it appears to have
been, by that contrivance for lowering the upper sashes of
the windows? "
6" You rmemlber the lesson you formerly received, I see,"
replied the doctor, assuming a serious air.  " These windows
were altered to admit of ventilation, at my own suggestion,
some years ago. An opening might be made in the ceiling,
as was done in your school-house, if thought necessary; but
as this building is so old, and full of crevices for the admission of fresh air, perhaps it will be hardly worth the while
to do this."
"6 Perhaps not, in this old house," said Locke; "but in a
new one, which you will build here soon, I conclude, you will
probably have this attended to, as well as several other improvements, which should be made in the interior of most of
our school rooms; for I think you must agree with me, doctor, in the opinion that our school-houses are, generally, but
illy adapted to the purposes for which they are, or should be
intended."
"I [ certainly do, Irt. Amlsden," answered the other. "And
the reason I treated the defects you have here pointed out,
in the manner I did, was because I thought with old Horace,
-"  Ridiculum acri
Fortius ac melius, plerumnque secat res,"



156              I,OCKE AMSDEN, OR
" that ridicule sometimes is more sharply effective than direct
denunciation;" and I felt like seizing on the sharpest weapon
I could find for cutting up the faults and defecls in question.
Yes, sir, I have noticed the inattention of the public to this
subject for years; and I have the more wondered at it when
I saw that improvements were going on in all other kinds of
buildings. The people now are getting to have convenient
and healthy houses for themselves. They also build very
warm and well-contrived stables for their horses and other
cattle. They have even, lately, built houses for their hogs,
on new plans, which are well adapted to their purposes.
lBut the houses for educating their children in -they are
never thought of! "
" Will your school prove a troublesome one to govern?"
asked Amsden, as they now left the house on their return.
"0 no," answered the other; "at least, I suspect not.
You will find the scholars mischievous and noisy enough, no
doubt, but not disposed to dispute your authority, I think.
The difficulties you will have to encounter, before making
any thing of your school, will be of a different, and, I really
fear, of a worse character to overcome. You will find the
school at the lowest ebb, flat, dead - dead to all ambition,
all inclination to study and learn. We have gone on the
cheap-teacher system till our school has completely run down.
And I have employed you to elevate it, 3Mr. Amsden."
After Lincoln had taken Locke to the quarters he had engaged for him, and introduced him there, the two returned
to the house of the former, where they found waiting for
them an excellent supper, that was partaken with a keen
appetite, and enlivened by a conversation of that easy, elerated, and sparkling character, which persons of intellect and
attainments can always so easily get up, and which such only
know how to appreciate and enjoy.
"If you, M1Irs. Lincoln," said the doctor, rising from the




THE SCHOOLMASTER.                 157
table and looking at his watch, as they finished their repast,
"if you will entertain MIr. Amsden in my absence, I will
now go out for an hour or two."
"Certainly," replied the lady; "but where do you think
of going, husband? You know you may have urgent calls,
when it will be necessary that you be found."
"True," answered the former. "Well, I have my poor
patient at the corner, up here, to visit; and then I think of
calling at Carter's."
"M r. Carter's fanmily are not sick, are they?"
"No, wife; but I am going to make an effort to get some
of those girls into IMr. Amsden's school. It would be not
only for their own good, but it would be a triumph over their
Professor of Gimocracks, which I should enjoy."
" You will hardly prevail on Mrs. Carter to listen to any
thing of that kind, I fancy, sir."
"As respects her own daughters, possibly not; but recollect there is a sprout there of a different stock, who has
sense enough to see the difference between science and syllabubs."
"Ay; but to expect her to take such a course in despite
the ridicule and sneers she would have to withstand from so
many there, would be expecting considerable in a young lady
of eighteen, you must remember."
" In an ordinary young lady it might be so. But she is not
an ordinary young lady, and as I am well acquainted with
her "
"What vanity, now 1"
"Vanity or no vanity, I shall talk with her on the subject."
"And in vain."
"We shall see."
The lady playfully shook her head, and the doctor depart.
ed on his destination. But, instead of following, we will
14




158                LOCKE AM3SDEN, OIR
precede the latter, a few moments, in his proposed visit, and
introduce the reader to the family which had been the subject of the above discussion.
In a showily furnished apartment in the large house which
we have before mentioned, sat a starchy-loolking woman of
perhaps forty, surrounded by four young ladies — three
of them her daughters, the other her husband's niece.  One
of the daughters was thrumming a guitar. The other two sat
nearly facing each other, at the opposite ends of a large sofa,
lazily lolling their heads and shoulders over the cushioned
arms, while their feet met and intermingled in the middle.
One was readling, with an occasional sigh, a fshionable English novel; the other, a volume of Byron's poems.  By the
side of a stand, which had been drawn up near the sofa to
furnish light to the two readers, sat the niece, darning stockings. The daughters, all looking much alike, were of delicate forms and quite fair complexions, but they were leadeneyed beauties; and their trained countenances were sadly
lacking in natural expression.  The niece was a different
looking person. Instead of the dawdling negligence exhibited in the ill-fitting, ill-matcheld, and gaudy apparel of the
others, every article of her plain, but extremely neat
dress, seemed exactly fitted, both by its color and fashion, to
grace her small, compact, and elegantly turned figure. It
was said by those who had noted her face at church, or when
she sat listless, that her features were beautifully regular, and
well shapen; but those with whom she had ever conversed,
could never remember how that was; for the expression of
her clear, wholesome, and smile-lit countenance so instantly
caught and arrested the scanning eye, and called up the
heart to blind it, that they either could never think to make
the examination, or sufficiently succeed, if tlhey attempted it,
to enable them  afterwards to say any tlhing decisive of the
question.  Her character, also, was as different from that of




THlE SCHOOLIMASTER.                159
her cousins just named, as wlas her appearance.  Whenever
she appeared abroad, she was greeted by all persons most
noted for understanding, with recognitions of the most marked respect; and the eyes of the poor and lowly, as they followed her, spoke blessings.  But still she did not dcless like
her cousins.  She was not the daughter of the stylish M:[rs.
and the rich BIr. Carter, and the fashionable world said bat
little about her.
Presently the sharp jingle of the door-bell announced a
visiter.  The mother pulled up her high-starched ruff still
higher.  The daughter at the guitar stopped short in her
thrumming, and assumed a graceful leaning attitude ofer her
instrument; while the other two daughters suddenly rightecd
themselves on the sofa, and fell to adjusting their deranged
false curls with most commendable diligrence. The less cumbered niece, who had none of these important duties to performn, at once laid down her work, rose, and was apl-proaching
the door with the view of ushering in the new comler, when
her step was arrested by the interposing gesture and words
of 3Brs. Carter," No, no! let the servant do that —it' s decidedly the most
fashionable."
The other then quietly returned to her place, and fearlessly resumed her ungenteel employment.
In a moment the inner door was thrown open by the servant girl, and Dr. Lincoln entered, and made his compliments
to the ladies.
6 "Why, you have made quite a mistake, doctor," said Iliss
Ann Lucretia, the elder  liMiss Carter, with a pretty simper,
as she lightly tapped her white finger on a string of her
guitar; "we are not sick, only a little en dishabille, as you
perceive."
"Well, I felt quite endishable myself, an hour ago; but a




160               LOCKE AMISDEN, OR
chance at a good dish of wife's toast for supper has overcome the feeling," said the doctor, with apparent honesty of
manner.
" Now how can you pretend to be so ignorant of elegant
literature, doctor? " exclaimed Miss Angeline Louisa, gracefully flirting her novel in her delicate hands.
"Perhaps the doctor don't appreciate us, sister," lisped
3Mbiss }Matilda MIandeville, the younlgest of the three, a girl
of about fifteen -- few do, you know; at least Professor
Tilden says so."
"O! indeed I do," replied the doctor, with a bow and deprecating smile. "I am (always just so blundering. But
now for business: I called to say to you, Mirs. Carter," he
continued, turning to that lady - " that I have supplied with
a good teacher our district school, which commences to-morr'OW  -
The speaker paused, and the lady stared with a look which
seemed plainly to say, "well, I wonder what I have to do
with that? " -" and I did not know but you would feel like
patronizing the school a little," at length added the speaker.'We do patronize it by paying half the taxes that support it, for aught I know; for I never troubled my head to
inquire about the district school, I am sure - not but what
it may be very useful for the lower classes," replied the lady,
with great dignity.
" Certainly," said the other; " and I have sometimes known
good families turn in their sons and daughters with good advantage to them. And I thought it possible that some of the
young ladies here might be disposed to attend, for the sake
of looking a little into the common sciences."
"lNo, I thank you, doctor," replied the elder sister, with an
ineffable toss of the head, "we are quite satisfied with our
present instructor, whose select academy, I believe, is allow
ed to be very distinzgue."




THE SCHO OLMUIASTER                1!61' La, me!" cried Miss Angeline Louisa, "I wonder what
Professor Tilden would say to our attending a district school!
Come, what do yTou say to turning in with the ragged
ur'chins of the canaille, Itatilda Mi[andeville?" she added,
giggling outright at the thought.
"0, dear me! how could one be so very vulgar?" exclaimed the fitir sprig of gentility to whom the question wras
put.
"And what does Aliss laverick think of this matter?"
said the doctor, who, finding himself repulsed, as he had been
forewarned, with the mother and dlaughters, now turned confidently to the niece before described; "wwhat does Miss
lMaverick think?" he repeated with an expression which he
intended and believed she alone would rightly interpret, —'perhaps she is not so erudite but that she might attend our
school awhile, with some benefit."
The young lady thus addressed lifted her clear blue eyes
to the shrewd interrogator, and turned upon him,' as he concluded, a look of the most searehing scrutiny.  The next instant, however, that look lost all its severity, and melted into
a sweet, appreciating smile, that told that she had read a
compliment instead of disparagement, in the doubly significant words of the speaker.'"I am  quite conscious of my deficiencies in the solid
sciences, sir," she replied; "and I confess I have sometimes
wished for an opportunity to study them more. If you have
a well-qualified instructor, I have but little doubt that it,
might be more profitable for me " -
"Now  you are not in earnest, surely, are you, Mary?"
interposed Miss Ann Lucretia; "why, where can be your
taste?  What! leave our Academy of Elegant Literature,
so very recherche', for a common district school, filled up witb
tle mere rabble, and headed by a'country rustic, no doubt,
who perhaps never trod on a carpet in his life?"
14*




162               LOCKE AMSDEN5, O0
"V Why, our notions vary a little in these particulars, you
know, cousin Ann," modestly replied the former. "6 But, were
they alike, I know not but I ought to be willing to attend oui
district school, for the purpose of lessening the burden of
expense to uncle Carter, who has so kindly paid the high
tuition which your instructor asks, that I might have fthe
same privilege with his own daughters.
" I suppose Mlary wishes to keep in our circle of society?"
significantly remarked the old lady.
"W hy, who could think of such a thing as going to a district school?" said Miss Angeline Louisa; "I should be
ashamed to have people know I thought of the thing."
"Indeed, so should I," chimed in the delicate lisper, M1iss
liatilda Mandeville; "for common schoolmasters are nothing
but pedagogues, and they are the ones, you know, that Professor Tilden laughs so much about."
The conversation was here interrupted by another peal
of the bell; and, in a moment more, the notable personage to
whom the young ladies had so often alluded in the foregoing
discussion, was shown into the apartment.  He was a man
something under thirty, dressed in the extremes of fashion,
and of manners which he evidently considered very Chesterfieldian. He bowed with an attitude on entering; and,
as soon as he had disengaged himself from the three besieging sisters, who all sprang forward to meet him at the door,
he advanced to a proffered seat, with a patronizing nod to
the doctor, a distant "how d'ye do" to the still seated 3f1ary,
and a superb double congee to Mirs. Carter."
In the black-bird chit-chat that now sprang up between
the sisters ancl their elegant professor, Lincoln found opportunity to speak witih hmiss gMaverick alone.
"}Now for your decision, MNiss Maverick," he said.
"On the subject you were speaking of when he entered?"
she asked; 0, I have come to no decision, sir."




TEE SCHOOLrMASTER.                 163
W'hlrat would your father have advised in such a case,
Miiss PMaverick?" persisted the former.'You are quite a skilfiul pleader, doctor," replied the other,
witlh a melancholy, yet arch smile; "are you sure you did
not misntake your profession?"
" o," said the doctor, smiling in surprise and admiration;
"but what other girl would have taken that view of the drift
of my question?  IT, however, you think I am  appealing to
what I might well suppose would be, with you, unanswerable
authority, for the purpose of carrying somle selfish point only,
you are mistaken.  I will therefore press the question."
"My father," said lMary, 1" as perhaps you may know, sir,
was very anxious that I should first secure the solid sciences,
and kept me at those schools where lhe thought I could study
such of them as suited my age, to the best advantage.  1H-I
even taulght me in theml  a part of the time, himself."'; Then I have your opinion in this matter - have I not?"
Perhaps not; for, as unsuitable as I have felt my late
course of study to be, for me at least, I have seen but little
chance of pursuing any other with the hope of good instruction
in your school, with the instructors you have lately had."
"There is something in your observation, doubtless, MJiss
}Maverick; but we shall have a different' instructor this
winter."
" Do you know him  personally, that you can answer for
his qualifications?"
"I do.  Hi-e is a scholar and a gentleman.  Now shall I
not have your decision?  I know it will require some nerve
to stem certain currents. But, as your father's friend, let me'
advise you to do it."
"I know," rejoined I.Mary, with a moistened eye, and other
evidences of tender emotion, " I know you were my good
father's friend, and he yours.  And I thank you kindly, Dr.
Lincoln, for the interest you take in me. But I cannot now




1.64 GLOCKE AMiSDE;a.
an'swer\l y+-Ou'r Clestion. I ll-must first conlsult uncle Carter.
I aml too miuch indebted to himn to take any step which he
might, disapprove, whatever my own opinion should happen
to be."
The doctor now took his leave of the family, and, after
seeking out MIr. Carter at his store, and saying a few words
to him in private, returned to his own happy abode.




CHAPTER IX.
" There in his noisy mansion skill'd to rule,
The village master taught his little school.'
GOLDSMIITH.
ON repairing to his school-house, the next morning, for the
purpose of commencing  his winter's task, Amsden unexpectedly fbund, among the pupils there assembled, and awaiting
his coming, one whose appearance instantly attracted his attention, and awakened in his bosom a lively and peculiar
interest.  This was no other than MIary IlMaverick, the dependent orphan, who, on Dr. Lincoln's warrant of having a
qualified teacher, had nobly braved the ridicule of her fashionable cousins, and the sneers of their arrogant professor,
and come here to pursue those studies and receive that
instruction which her own excellent judgment told her would
most truly accomplish her, not only for the duties, but for
the elegancies of life.  Often did the former, during the
forenoon, while engaged in ascertaining the intended studies
of the different portions of his school, and arranging his
classes, detect his attracted vision stealing in half-involuntary glances to the face of his fair pupil. Hle felt a vague
though deepening impression that he had seen that remarkable countenance before; but it was rather a sensation of the
heart than a recollection of the mind; for where or when
he could have seen her, his taxed memory refused to inform
him. And every effort he made to form a conclusion on the
subject but added to his perplexity.  Nor did the object of
his mental inquiry herself seem wholly at ease in her posi




166               LOCKE AISDEN, On
tion. There was a sort of tell-tale consciousness about her
looks that bespoke either an actual recognition, or a dilemma
no less pleasant than his own.  Could it be that this was the
sprightly little daughter of the interesting stranger, whose
call at his father's, in former years, had left such an impression on his mind, and given such a turn to his destinies? He
thought it not probable; for between that fairy little being,
whose image, as she then in her child-like simplicity appeared, had ever been brightly pictured on his mind - and the
sweetly dignified young lady before him, his thoughts could
find no resemblance which would warrant him in determining
on their identity. And yet, though his mind dared not entertain the pleasing thought his heart continued to whisper, that,
however great the transformation, they were one and the
same. In this state of delicate embarrassment, he suffered
himself to remain through the day. tHe might, as he well
knew, have easily resolved his doubts, by conversing with
her, and making some allusions to former circumstances.
But, absurd as it may appear, the very solicitude he felt on
the subject prevented him from doing this, or even going so
far, in this respect, as his duties as her teacher perhaps required.  And when he dismissed his school at night, lhe was
not only ignorant of what he was most anxious to know respecting his interesting pupil, but he had not even ascertained
her name.
After taking supper at his boarding-house, at which he had
now taken up his quarters, our hero took occasion, with what
secret motives we will not pretend to decide, to call at the
house of Dr. Lincoln.
"Ah, ha! my friend," exclaimed the doctor, gaily, as the
other entered; "I am glad to see you; for I wish to ask you
what you think of the condition of your numerous family."
" Rather low, as you intimated yesterday, but by no means
hopeless, I trust, doctor," replied Amsden, in the same strain,




THE SCIIOOOXLASTER.                167
"WVel, I am  gratified to hear you say even so much.
But did my phlenix make her appearance there to-day?"
"W11o, Sil'? "
0, the young lady at Carter's —his niece, whom you
heard me mnention last night as likely to attend."
" There was a young lady at school to-day, who I thought
mignht be the one to whom you alluded; but I did not learn
her name."
"6 Iot learn her name  "
No; you did not mention it, and a teacher cannot often
ascertain all the names of his pupils in one day.  But who
is she? "
"It is rather curious that a young gentleman should let a
whole day pass, under such circumstances, without ascertaining who such a girl as Aiary l'averick is," replied the doctor with a surprised and somewhat incredulous look; " but I
will tell you.  She is the only child of Col. MlIaverick, the
gentleman who, as I was naming to you yesterday, married
the present i3r. Carter's only sister, lost his wife, failed, and
finally went to South America by my advice, to repair his
shlattered healthl and fortunes- particularly the former; as
I thoulcght I detected, in his ill-health, indications of an approaching consumption, which another winter's residence in
our climate, I was fearful, would develope. It was ascertained that he left the port at which lhe arrived, for the interior
of Brazil, since which he has never been heard from.  IHe
doubtless there fell a prey to disease, or perished in the civil
wars by which that country was then distracted."
"How many years ago was this? " asked the other, with
assumed indifference.
"Six years, the coming ilay, I believe - yes, it was in:May that he left here. HIe had been the superintendent of
a factory, in a village about an hundred miles to the south of
this, where the year previous he had resided, having taken




168               LOCKE AMSDEIK, 01R
his daughter with him to attend a school in the place. He
returned with her early in the spring, and, leaving her in the
care of her uncle, departed, never to return."
"Where she has ever since remained, I suppose?" said
Locke, who, though now satisfied of the identity he had been
secretly trying to establish, was yet reluctant to let the subject drop.
"Yes, to be sure," replied Lincoln, throwing an inquiring
look at the other; "yes, she has remained in that family, it
is true; but she has not been spoiled for all that, - if such
is an answer to what I take to be the drift of your question.
No, the father was a man of high qualities, both of head and
heart; and the daughter - but I shall leave you to find that
out, Amsden, as you soon will-unless," he banteringly
added, " unless the progress you have made in her acquaintance to-day is to be taken as a fair sample of the future."
Amsden now was quite willing to let the subject rest; and,
after some further conversation on indifferent topics, he bade
the other good night, and departed.
On entering his school-room the next morning, a little before the usual time of opening his school, Amsden was
agreeably surprised to find the fair object of his yesterday's
solicitude already there, engaged upon her studies. Feeling
himself now, by the discoveries he had made last evening,
measurably relieved from the embarrassment which had kept
him aloof the day before, he no longer hesitated to approach
her, pay his respects, and make inquiries respecting the
studies she proposed to pursue. His advances being here
met with unaffected kindness and respectful courtesy, he soon
ventured to allude to the circumstance of their former meeting, at his father's; and he felt not a little gratified and flattered to find that all the little incidents connected with that
brief visit were fresh in her recollection.  She had even
learned his subsequent history, almost to the present time,




THE SCHOOLMIASTER.                169
from a mutual acquaintance of both, who had formerly attended Seaver's academy. An understanding being thus
effected between them, not only as regarded the relations of
teacher and pupil, but in the more delicate ties of a friendship based on reciprocal respect, and the kindly remembrances and prepossessions of the past, it were, perhaps,
almost needless to say how happy our hero became in his
situation. His duties, as arduous as they were, seemed light
and pleasant in the bright presence in which they were continually performed. And if her presence alone could thus
sweeten his labors with others, how delightful the task of
imparting instruction to her, - to her whose mind, as he soon
found, was fully capable of' appreciating his own, and whose
proficiency in the sciences awakened his admiration! And
with what pleasure did he, each day, look forward to the
peaceful, intellectual hour, which, after the dismissal of the
main part of his scholars, he usually devoted to her, and a
few others, whom her noble example soon brought into school!
To him this duty became a privilege, and a privilege which
afforded him all the happiness his heart desired.
With regard to the general character and condition of the
school of which he had taken charge, Amsden found matters
much as his employer had represented. In the government
of his school - so far, at least, as respected a disposition to
acknowledge and obey his authority generally - he experienced, it is true, no difficulty with his pupils. For it having not been any part of their ambition to bully their masters,
and having been accustomed to the discipline of those whose
chief object seemed to have been to govern rather than to
instruct, they appeared to expect, with all their trifling and
restlessness, that order would be enforced, and they must
yield to its requisitions.  But with this negative virtue ended
all that was promising or commendable in the appearance of
the school. The scholars, though they had been kept at
I 5



17(0               L0r      i o>,.  a
school, perhaps two thirds of' the time, for ye.ars, were yet
extremely deficient —in any correct knowledge, at leastof the most common rudiments of learning.  They had,
nmany of them, gone over much ground, indeed; but they had
acquiredl but little correctly, and less understandingly.  And
it was still with the utmost difficulty that they were restrained
from runnling  over whole pages for a lesson, when perhaps
as many sentences would be more than they would have
thoroughlly maste ed.  Besides this, the common vice of our
schools, especially village schools, the scholars seemed to
have little or no r elish -fr their studies, and as little ambition
to excel in them.
Altlhonugh this unpromising condition of the school was, as
before inthnated, directly attributable to the mismanagement
of unquali;ied or uniaithful teachers, there was yet another
circumstanlce, which had not- only, in a great measure, probably, remlotely caused the whole evil, by leading to the employing of such teachers in the first place, but which continued to operate with the most untfavorable effect on. the
advancement of the pupils.  This was the total neglect with
which the whole subject was treated by the inhabitants of
the district, who, as is too often the case, rarely troubled
their heads even to inquire about the school, much less to
visit it.
With all these obstacles before him, it was some time before Amsden, with all his tact and perseverance, could succeed
in confining his pupils to methods of study which promised
any real improvement.  And if he succeeded in doing that,
he found it no less difficult to excite in them an interest in
their studies sufficient to insure an application productive of
any important results.
At length, however, by extraordinary exertions, he so far
overcame the difficulties with which he had to contend, as
to command the attention of his pupils, and to raise, in




TR, SCHOOLMASTERm                  171
most of them, some little ambition to press forward in the
path of improvement.  But, aware that much remained to
be done, and being sensible at the same time that but few
scholars will long persevere in attempts which the exertions
of a teacler, only, have induced them to make, unless they
expect their labors will be rewarded by the encouragement
and approbation of those to whom they are in the habit of
looking for every thing else in life, his next step was to enlist
the interest of the parents in his school, and thus secure
their coiperation in bringing about the desired object.  With
this end in view, he at first made an effort to induce the
parents and guardians of the district to make individual visits
to his school. But, meeting with no other success in this
attempt than what consisted of promises, reluctantly given
and invariably broken, he next determined to appoint a particular day for the reception of visiters, and to prepare his
scholars for going through such interestingc exercises on the
occasion, as should furnish an additional inducement for the
invited, at least, to attend.  In pursuance of this plan, he
fixed on a future day for what he concluded to call a public
examination of his school.  And, having caused information
of the appointment to be spread through the neighborhood,
he began to make arrangements for the purpose among his
pupils, and to exhort them  to the use of such diligence in
their studies as should enable them  to acquit themselves
creditably before the expected assemblage.  Incited afresh
by the thought of displaying their acquisitions before their
parents and ot hers, or fearful of exposing their deficiences,
the scholars, with almost one accord, betook themselves
eagerly to their respective studies. And, in the two weeks
thlat intervened before the day of the proposed examination,
they bad mnade such progress that their teacher began really
to feel very proud of his school.
As the appointed day drew near, Amsden, to make doubly




172                LOCKE AMSDEINT, OR
sure of a general attendance, was at the pains of calling on
most of the parents and guardians of his pupils, to remind
them of the time when the contemplated performances were
to take place, and to urge them to be present.  And so well
did he prosper in obtaining individual promises of attendance,
that he supposed there could be, this time, scarcely a possi.
bility of a failure.  Is scholars, in the mean time, were full
of ambition.  Hie seemed to have succeeded, at last, in
infusing into them a portion of his own spirit and enthusiasm
for learning.  Every thing  went swimmingly on; and he
felt himself justified in looking forward with certainty to the
brightest results from the operation of his plan. But, alas!
alas for the blindness and guilty neglect of the public, on a
point so important to interests which we should hold, above
all things, dear! iWe will not, however, anticipate.
The eventful day at length arrived; and our hero, having
risen and breakfasted, left his lodgings for the scene of  his
daily labors, that morning, in high spirits. Every thing, thus
far, seemed auspicious to his undertaking.  On his way to
his school-house, however, his attention was attracted by
numerous hand-bills, posted on the doors, corners, and all
other conspicuous places in the streets, announcing in staring
capitals, for that evening, the wonderful exhibitions of the
far-famed Potter, a professed juggler of those times, who
proposed, in the present instance, as usual, to display the astonishing feats of swallowing swords and jack-knives, hatching chickens, frying eggs in his hat, together with an endless
variety of other feats never before exhibited, but all equally
miraculous.  Performances to commence, in order to do full
justice to the public, at the early hour of three o'clock, P. M.
As Amsden's examination was to begin only an hour before
the time fixed on for opening these shows, and be resumed in
the evening, for which the most interesting exercises, such as
the reading of original compositions, declamations, and thA




THE SCHOOLMA3STER.                 173
speaklng of a few select dialogues, were reseived,-it barely
occurred to him  that the coincidence might possibly be
perhaps a little unlucky, as a very few unthinking persons,
who otherwise might come to swell his audience, would, likely
enough, be led away to witness the trumpery tricks of the
juggler.  But, supposing that no people of' sense and character would do this, and especially that no parents would
think of putting such pitiful shows in competition with the
praiseworthy performances of their own children, when connected with a subject of such vital interest to them, he felt
no uneasiness from the circumstance.  And, very philosophically consoling himself with the thought that the presence
of the few who would thus desert him  would be no object,
and that, after all, the poor mountebank, who would doubtless be the greatest loser in the rivalry for spectators, would
have the most reason to complain, he dismissed the subject
from his mind', and passed on unconcernedly to his schoolhouse.  But, on opening his school, some doubts of a different character soon began to rise in his mind.  Though
he had no fears that the attendance of his audience would
be materially endangered by the presence of' these shows,
yet he knew not but the excitement they would occasion
among the boys of the village might distract the minds of
his pupils, and cause them  to acquit themselves less honorably than they would otherwise. For he was not long in
discovering in them  an unusual lack of interest respecting
the performances in which they were in the afternoon to engage. A portion of them appeared too much excited to confine their minds to their tasks; others appeared absent, and
yet others seemed wholly indifferent about preparing themselves for their allotted parts.  Some other object of interest,
in short, was obviously gett'ng uppermost in their minds.
And so great, indeed, was their listlessness, that their instructor at length began to entertain serious apprehensions that
15*




174               LOCKE AM.SDEN, OR
many of them, even those who had all along given the most
evidence of improvement, would appear to great disadvantage in the approaching exercises.  Nor did these unftvorable appearances at all improve as tile morning wore away.
At the recess of the boys, parts of exclamatory sentences,
such as " real live chickens! "-  great sha7p swords, handle
and all!" frequently reached Amsden's ear from  excited
groups that were eagerly discussing the subject near the
door; and on passing round among the seats just vacated, he
saw the word Potter written on this slate, Potter on that copybook, and Potter, with his hat full of chickens, pictured out
on the wall.
On returning to his school, after the usual intermission at
noon, he found matters even worse than he had left them.
The first boy he called up to read, after being shown his
place, which he had forgotten, commenced, " B-a - yes, a —
k-e-r," and stopped short.
" And what does that spell?" said his master, giving him
an impatiant jog, to recall his wandering ideas to the subject,
"what does that spell, sir?"
" Potter!"
s" What?"
"Potter - baker, I mean, but I was thinking" —
And so it was with most of them: their eyes might be
upon their books, but their heads were full of Potter and his
kickshaws.
All this looked rather ominous, to be sure; and Locke
began to tremble for the credit of his pupils: but, believing
they would be brought to their senses by the presence of the
company, now shortly to assemble, he restrained his anxieties, and awaited, as patiently as he could, the hour set for
commencing the exercises, and the arrival of the spectators.
Two o'clock at length came, but with it no company. At
half-past two it was still the same; and the anxious teacher,




THE SCHOOLMASTERh                175
now becoming really a-larmed on a point on which before he
had not suffered himself to entertain a single doubt, began
to glance uneasily through the windows, and keep an eager
ear listening for the approach of footsteps at the door. But
he looked and listened in vain. Another hour came and
passed, and yet not a single individual of all the expected
audience made his appearance!
By this time, most of the scholars began to be restless,
and show sundry other symptoms of impatience. The hour
for opening the shows had come and gone. They were evidently thinking of this, and as evidently longing to be gone
themselves. Locke, at the time previously set for the purpose, had commenced his examination, and thus far continued
on with it, in the most unimportant parts of the exercises;
but the business dragged every moment more and more
heavily, and it now became obvious that the school could
not much longer be kept together. First, one would ask to
be dismissed; then, another; then, a third and fourth. And
if refused, or put off, they would not sit five minutes without
repeating their request; alleging, in many instances, that they
had leave of their parents for so doing. Finding he might as
well argue to the winds, as to a school in such a state - seeing, indeed, that it was wholly useless to attempt to proceed
with the exercises, and having now no hope of any company,
if he should, he reluctantly concluded to yield to the necessity
of the case; and, calling up his scholars, he dismissed them
till the next morning, without saying a word in comment.
And no sooner was the welcome word pronounced, than the
whole tribe, bursting out into an exulting whorah!  hastily
seized their caps, hats, &c., and rushed into the street, on
their way for Potter's, where their more childish parents had
gone before them — leaving their unregarded teacher to return home, more vexed, more chagrined, and more truly discouraged, than he had ever felt in the whole course of his life.




176              LOCKE ABISDEN, OR
The next morning, on his way to his school, Locke encountered his friend and employer, Dr. Lincoln, and related to
him the mortifying occurrences of the day previous.
"Your story, Mr. Amsden," said the doctor, " involves a
satire upon us, which should well make us blush. Sensible
of the importance of your most praiseworthy attempt, I was
not only intending to go myself, but rally others; and an unexpected summons to a distant patient only prevented me from
so doing. But, as provoking and truly discouraging as this
affair must have been to you, do not allow yourself to despair."
" I shall not, of bettering my school in some measure; but
what hope can I have of making it what it should be, while
parents so plainly tell their children that they hold their improvement in science of less importance than the tricks of a
juggler? Did they not so tell them yesterday? For, as
somebody most truly says,
"Words speak in a whisper, actions through a trumpet."'True, true to the letter; and the sarcasm is richly deserved, though those to whom it applies are less conscious of
their fault, I presume, than you imagine. Are you not expecting too much from poor human nature, especially here,
where so many circumstances have long combined to blind
people to the importance of popular education, and the best
methods of promoting it? Men are generally more inclined
to go where Folly leads than where Wisdom points. And
here they have so long trod in the path of the former, that
their blindness, on the point in question, has become chronic,
and cannot be cured in a day. Your exertions will not have
been lost on your school. Something has been gained in acquirement, something towards fixing good habits of study -
all help. You must still persevere; and though it may not
be expedient to renew your yesterday's attempt at present,
you yet shall have my aid in trying to get parents and pupils




THE SCHOOLMASTER.                177
mutually interested, as well by my occasional visits, as by my
influence to procure the visits and enlist the interest of oth.
ers. Yes, persevere; and, while you do so, remember that
our village is not the only one guilty of the same faults,
Our country schools are before those of our villages, in regard to the interest taken in them by both parents and children. In our country schools, a good degree of interest in
learning is felt, and the pupils do learn; though, through the
incompetency of their teachers, they too often learn error.
But our village pupils do not even learn that. How important, then, that our schools, both in town and country, be, for
different reasons, wholly revolutionized? And you, sir, are
the man to begin the revolution."
"' But what can I do towards such a work, supported as I
am, and shall be, by the public, in the undertaking?"
A' A good deal. While your persevering labors will eventually reform one school, you will be setting an example that
will be surely, if slowly, operating upon others. And while
doing this, you may enjoy the proud consciousness that you
are doing more to perpetuate the liberties of your country,
than the arrogating congress-man, who is spouting wind to
the tune of eight dollars per day."
The judicious and spirited remarks of Lincoln were not
without their effect on the kindred mind of young Amsden.
He had long entertained similar views himself, and had laid
out his course with reference to them. But he was by no
means prepared for the obstacles and discouragements by
which he found his path beset; and he was beginning to look
on the prospect before him with a cold and doubtful eye.
The wise and timely counsels of his employer, however, encouraged and reassured him, and he again returned with
patient deteremination to his task. He now found, indeed,
that patience and determination were alike needed by him,
while trying to revive, in his pupils, the interest and ambition




178              LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
which he had succeeded in raising in them, previous to the
failure of the little plan we have described. For, although
the juggler and his shows, now they had seen them, had lost
their charms, yet the course taken by their parents seemed
to have removed all inducement to any future exertion. Instead of the pride which they had been told by their instructor those parents would feel, on seeing them acquit themselves
well - instead of the praises they would get, they had seen
their exertions pass unrewarded by either the praise or the
presence of a single individual. And they were not slow in
drawing the disheartening inference. For all this, the untiring efforts of our schoolmaster, directly applied, and the many
pleasant little devices and amusing exercises that he contrived to get up, illustrative of the different branches he was
teaching, and at the same time instructive in themselves, at
length began to produce their effects in awakening some degree of the spirit desired. Dr. Lincoln and his lady several
times visited the school, and their example was soon followed
by some others, who seemed to think, that, under the sanction
of so respectable a precedent, it would now possibly do to be
seen in a common school.  These visits much contributed
also to encourage the instructor, and give efficiency to his
exertions. And he finally had the happiness of seeing his
school, if not all that he could have wished it, at least in a
highly prosperous condition.
But although Amsden had at last found himself in a fair
way of surmounting the obstacles that had here impeded his
success as a teacher merely, yet there were, in the mean
time, other trials attending his situation, which he was left to
experience, and which he felt none the less keenly, for being
compelled to endure them in silence. If the neglect and
lack of interest which the inhabitants had exhibited towards
his school had caused him so much chagrin and disappoint.
ment, it is natural to suppose that a still greater neglect of




THE SCHOOLMASTER.                  179
himself, in all those little courtesies and marks of respect
which are usually extended to all respectable members of
society, would not long escape his notice, or fail to make him
feel unpleasantly.
There had been in the village, during the winter, a con.
tinued round of fashionable parties, some for the lively dance,
but most of them for social converse, the occasional song, and
such other light diversions as are usually introduced on these
occasions. To these parties, all, of any thing like fair standing, had, in turn, been invited.  Spruce mechanics and their
journeymen frequently received their invitations; the pert
merchant's clerk was sure to be remembered; even Locke's
older pupils were not neglected, and sometimes, indeed, they
were sought out and invited before his face. But nobody
remembered the poor schoolmaster.  Nobody seemed to be
aware that he was born with social feelings, or that he had
any sort of claim to mingle in society, like other people; and,
throughout the whole, he was never complimented with a
single invitation.
At first he did not pay any attention to this circumstance;
or, if he did, he concluded it arose from some excusable inadvertence.  But, being generally apprised of these assemo
blages, the next day after their occurrence, when he was
often asked why he had not attended, the constant repetition
of the neglect at length forced itself upon his observation,
and caused him more pain than he would have been willing
to confess.  Let it not be supposed, however, that the unpleasant feelings he thus experienced arose from  the disappointment of any particular wish he had to mingle in fashionable society.  For, believing with his favorite poet, that
"- e'en while Fashion's brightest arts decoy,
The heart, distrusting, asks if this be joy,"
he felt conscious that he should have little relish for its friiv




180               LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
olities and amusements.  No, it was not this that disquieted
him; but it was the inference, the unavoidable inference,
which he drew from the circumstance, that caused the pang;
awakening reflections as wounding to his sensibilities, as they
were discouraging to his prospects, in the path of life he had
marked out for himself. And what was this inference?
Did it grow out of the narrow jealousy that there was any
thing relating to his manners, his person, or his poverty, that
had shut him out of society?  By no means; for his dress
was good, his person what few could boast of, and his man~
ners —he had no manners, he never tried to form  any,
but was wisely content with the unsophisticated demeanor
of his childhood, which let his native benevolence, his kind
and cheerful disposition, his strong sense and ready percep.
fion, shine out undisguised and clearly, and find their way,
as they did, to every heart not foolishly shut by the conventional restrictions of modern society; while they imparted to
his appearance an ease and dignity that fitted him for every
company. No, it was nothing of that kind. It was the low
estimation in which, he could not but perceive, the occupation
of the common teacher was held by the public; an estimation, which, besides depriving that teacher of half the very
influence he is expected to exercise over the minds of the
young, virtually ostracises him from society, and leads even
parents to place him whom they intrust to form the minds
and characters of their own children for life - to place him,
unconsciously, we hope - upon a level with the servants of
their kitchens and the grooms of their stables!
Such were the difficulties, such the trials, which our schools
master was doomed to experience.  But is the example,
which his case exhibits, a solitary one?  Let the public
answer; and, if in the negative, let them reflect on the conse.
quences of suffering this state of things to remain for evern




I'E  SCOOLMAdSTEo                       181
Iow well and justly was all this appreciated by the good and
charming Cowper:s4; Respect, as is but rational and just,
A man deemed worthy of so dear a trust.
Despised by thee, what more can he expect
From youthful folly than the same neglect 1
A flat and fatal negative obtains
That instant upon all his future pains:
His lessons tire, his mild rebukes offend,
And all the instructions of thy son's best frien4
Are a stream choked, or trickling to no end.'
la




CHAPTER X.
I'Ah b! Envy, how I love thee, never!
Let us wake the spiteful jest
And malignant sneer: how clever'T is to mar another's rest!
But this with rage I've often notede
When they let our shafts alone,
Back they bound all double-bolted,
And, except ourselves, hurt none."
MSalice and Envy, Poetic Dialogue.  PERMITN
TilE author's task now draws to its conclusion; and, from
what we fear will have been deemed by many as but the dry
and unromantic scenes of a schoolmaster's usually monotonous
life, we will turn to others, of a somewhat varied and more
exciting character, at once preluding the little denouement
of our story, and leading to an unexpected change in the apparent destiny of its hero, which called him from his present
limited field of laudable exertion, to one where the same
noble objects could be pursued with more extended usefulness.
One evening, while the situation of affairs remained as we
last described them, Amsden walked out, after supper, for the
purpose of visiting a sick pupil, the daughter of very poor
but worthy parents, living in a wretched abode, near the outskirts of the village.  On entering the house, he was no less
gratified than surprised to find his fair favorite, Mary Maveo
rick, standing by the pillow of the invalid, soothingly ministering to her necessities and comforts.  A  slight tinge of
color overspread her sweetly eloquent countenance, as, invite




THE SCHOOLMASTERI                 18$
ing him to a seat near the sick-bed, she expressed her happib
ness at seeing him  so mindful of the situation of their
suffering friend. We said a slight tinge of color —it was
so; but not the blush of shame at being found in a hovel, to
which, unknown to the proud and fashionable family of which
she was a member, she had come to bring some little delicacies of her own preparing for the sick girl. On rising to
depart, she proffered still further assistance to the girl's
mother, and requested to be sent for when she should be
needed as a watcher or otherwise. After witnessing the
broken but heartfelt outpourings of gratitude of the poor
woman to her kind benefactress, Locke offered to attend the
latter to her home; and, the offer being accepted, the couple
left the humble abode, and were soon at the door of the
princely mansion of the Carters. When {Mary left home,
MIrs. Carter and her two eldest daughters had gone out with
the expectation of spending the evening; and for that reasons
probably, she urged her attendant to go in, in a manner
which, contrary to his previous determination, he was unable
to resist; and he was accordingly ushered into the usual
sitting room of the family, where, to the surprise of Miss
Maverick, they not only found the supposed absentees, but
their self-styled professor, who had found the latter abroad,
and, as usual, gallanted them home. Although Mary felt
painfully conscious that the circumstances were inauspicious
for her friend's introduction to the family, she yet had the
firmness to perform her part in the ceremony with composure
and dignity. The professor, with a sneering air of mock
politeness, bowed very low to our hero, on the announcement
of his name. Mrs. Carter returned his salute with a freezing
nod; and her daughters just moved their lips, exchanging
with each other significant glances, as they were severally
introduced. Perceiving at once the character of his recepo
tion, Amsden felt at a loss to decide for himself whether




184              LOCKE -AMIDEN, OR
silence, speaking, or an abrupt departure, were the coursb
demanded of him; but, in his hesitation, he adopted the
former, and sat, as did the rest of the company, some moments, without uttering a word. At this embarrassing juncture, however, Miss Maverick fearlessly came to the rescue,
and, with the tact and well-timed effort which a just and dis~
cerning woman will alone use on such an occasion, and a
generous and discerning man alone appreciate, delicately
opened the way for a conversation where all could join, and
none offend, unless wilfully. But there was one present,
conscious perhaps that he had others about him to support
him in the course, who was not disposed to act the part which
even ordinary good breeding would have then dictated.
From the first, the professor had conceived the deepest aversion to Aimsden. He had been secretly nettled that Miss
Maverick, whose good-will, but for his interest to pay his
court in other quarters, he would have gladly obtained, - that
Miss. Maverick should leave his school for another which he
had so affected to despise. And his animosities, as is often
the case with base and contemptible minds, settled on the
person who had won, and, in spite of all the pains he
had taken to frustrate it, continued to retain his pupil. In
addition to this source of dislike, the growing estimation in
which his rival's school was held had lately begun to alarm
him for the safety of his hitherto undisputed dominion over
the wealthy and fashionable part of the village. And he
had therefore determined to lose no opportunity to disparage
the man who was now before him.
"6 Well, IMiss Maverick, what studies are you pursuing this
winter?" asked Tilden, thinking thus to pave the way for
his meditated attack on his hated rival.
6" My spelling-book, grammar, and arithmetic, sir," replied
Mary, playfully, yet with sufficient significance to apprise the




THE SCHOOLMASTER.                 185
interrogator that she understood the motive which prompted
the question.
" Ay!" said the professor, "' well, you seem to have been
advancing backward quite rapidly, since you left us; you
were upon rhetoric and select geometry, I believe."
s" True, sir," rejoined the other; "but when I found myself
unable to answer questions, not only in some of the first
principles of arithmetic, but even in those of orthography
and pronunciation, I thought it might perhaps not be amiss
for me to advance backwards a little, as you term it."
" O, it is all correct, doubtless," sneeringly remarked the
professor. "Your instructor, I presume, sees the propriety
of taking a young lady from the elegant and refining studies
of rhetoric and geometry, and placing her back upon the
school-boy drudgery of the spelling-book and common arithmetic."
"The propriety of this," replied Amsden, thus insolently
challenged to defend his course, " is sufficiently obvious firom
Miss Maverick's own acknowledgment, that she did not fully
understand some of the first principles on which the sciences
she had attempted are based. I cannot see how rhetoric,
which teaches the art of using language correctly and effectively, can be studied understandingly till the construction of
the language itself is first understood. And it is so with geometry and its correlative and basing study, common arithmetic,
which must be first mastered. When pupils have done this,
they may, with some hope of profit, enter upon geometry, in
which they need not then be limited to a few pretty problems
of this interesting branch of science; or they may enter
upon rhetoric without being confined for illustrations to the
stage-readings of Shakspeare, or the Melodies of Thomas
Moore."
The professor, whose superficial teachings and manner of
illustrating were known to Amsden, was touched by this re16*




1&86              &BH  %iLOCKS ATMSDEN, OR
ply even more nearly than the latter was himself aware. But
though evidently disconcerted, he contrived to conceal his
feelings, under an affected disdain to offer at this time any
rejoinder - leaving his fair worshippers now to take up the
discourse.
"I wonder," said Miss Ann Lucretia, s" what pleasure one
can take in common arithmetic: for my part, I always hated
it. And as for the spelling-book   why, I learned all there
is in that before I was seven years old."
" Well, I am willing all should follow their taste," observed
the next sister; "but as for myself, I have no notion of giving up the elegant pursuits of our select academy; at least,
not for a common school, I am sure."
" Nor I," said Miss Matilda Mandeville, as usual bringing
up the rear of this refined and accomplished sisterhood.
" 0  it would be so excessively vulgaire!  Now, do n't you
think so, Professor Tilden?"
"Why, I have only to say on the occasion, ladies," replied
the professor, who by this time had prepared himself for
what he supposed would be an annihilating discharge of his
spleen,  "I have only to say that there are those in the world
whom you would labor in vain in trying to impress with any
sense of the beauties of elegant literature."
" And there are again those, you might justly add, sir,"
promptly rejoined Locke, "whom you can never impress
with any sense of the beauties of the sound sciences, for the
reason that they do not understand them."
Upon this, the professor chose to consider himself insulted,
and so much disgusted withal, that he could no longer endure
the presence of Amsden. And, hastily gathering up his hat,
gloves, &c., from the table by which his rival had been sitting,
he moved towards the door with the show of departing, when
the three sisters with one accord rushed after him, and
begged of him, for their sakes, to remain. Mrs. Carter, also,




THE SCHOOLMAS6TER.                187
muttering something about its being very strange that some
folks could not under stand  their true position in society, ear.
nestly joined in the request of her daughters. The soothed
professor, being thus over-persuaded, returned to his seat.
And Anisden, to relieve the company firom his presence, rose
to depart.  Miss liaverick, whose pride and high sense of
honor and justice had alike been deeply offended by this wanton attack on her friend, waited on him to the door with the
most marked respect; and then, returning into the room with
a face flushed with indignation, replaced the light she had taken, and instantly left the apartment without uttering a word.
Previous to the entrance of Amnsden and Miary, the professor had been showing the ladies a guinea, upon the centre
of which had been stamped, by some mechanic through
whose hands it had passed, probably, some enigmatical letters
and other signs. And this coin, when the former came in,
had been left on the table at which the professor and his fair
friends had been sitting, and by the side of which, when the
position of the company became thus changed, Locke happened to be placed.
"What are you looking for, Professor Tilden?" blandly
asked Mrs. Carter, as she observed the former turning over
the books and other articles on the-table, as if in search of
something missing.
" O, merely the little coin we were amusing ourselves with,
when our refined visiter, who has just left, entered the room;
but it is no matter; it is somewheres about here, I presume,"
said the professor carelessly.
This announcement brought all the ladies round the table.
A thorough search was made; but the coin was not to be
found.
"Let me see," said the professor, musingly, pretending not
to remember the fact;'" who sat down by the table when we
rose, on the entrance of this visiter? "




188              BLOCKE AMSDEN, OR
"Why, it was MIr. Amsden himself," replied Mrs. Carter.
"So it was -to be sure it was —it certainly was; and
the gold piece was lying on the table after he came in and
took that seat," severally responded the sisters, exchanging
surprised and significant glances among themselves and with
their mother.
"I perceive what you think, ladies," said the professor,
after permitting them to look at each other long enough to
reach the conclusion to which he had artfully led them; "I
perceive what you think; but I beg of you," he continued,
with an air of generous forbearance, "I beg of you not to
mention the circumstance. The little coin is really of no
sort of consequence to me."
" Why should we keep it secret? I think the fellow should
be exposed," said Mrs. Carter, indignantly.
"I highly appreciate your indignation, madam," replied
the professor, loftily; "I wonder not that you should feel
such a bold insult on your house and family, to say nothing
of the requirements of justice. But what proof could we
make?  Nothing that would answer the law. I must therefore insist that no public charge of the kind be made."
"It is just what I should expect of a vulgar pedagogue,"
exclaimed Miss Matildaiandeville.
"And to think that Mary should have suffered him to
come here' " said another sister.
"Yes, and the girl is still attending the fellow's school!
but that must be stopped," added the mother.
" Perhaps that were unwise," said the professor, here interposing. " By taking this step, you must give her the reason;
and I really ask it as a great favor that not a syllable of the
unfortunate affair be named to her, as it would be so very
mortifying to her feelings. Whatever opinion you may consider it your duty to give your confidential friends respecting
the man's true character, nothing must be named to her,




'TE  SCROOLMASTER.                189
Indeed, for my part, I could wish that the transaction should
be kept a secret from all; for I really cannot but pity the
fellow."
The professor, having thus arranged the affair to his liking
with his willingly duped worshippers, departed; secretly exulting in the thought that lie had now struck a blow which
must result in removing from his path the man whom he no
less feared than hated. And, for a while, every thing seemed to promise fair to operate as he had designed it should.
The story was studiously kept from AMary, and, in the shape
of dark hints at least, confidentially whispered to others,
who, in their turn, imparted it to a second round of friends,
till it thus passed, in constantly widening circles, to the
public.
Meanwhile the intended victim of this suddenly-devised
and detestable plot to destroy his fair fame, continued diligently to discharge the daily duties of his fast improving
school, having not the least suspicion of the withering whispers of detraction that were in progress around him. He
was not permitted, however, to remain long without perceiving indications that something intimately affecting his interests was secretly operating to his disadvantage; but what
that something could be, he was wholly unable to conjecture.
lHe at first noticed a certain air of coldness and distrust
towards himself among many of his village acquaintance, by
whoml he had been before met with respectful cordiality.
His feelings were next tried by a withdrawal by their parents,
on different pretexts, of some of the best pupils of his school.
And, among the rest, his lovely friend, Mary Maverick, was
unconsciously made to add poignancy to his regrets, and increase his growing uneasiness at the inauspicious appearances
that seemed to be gathering over his path. She had been
requested by her aunt to leave her school to assist in some
business in the household line, which, as it was pretended,




190               LOC'tE  AATMDEN,  oF
had unexpectedly arisen, but which, it was also urged, nmust
immediately be executed.  And, feeling herself under obligations to comply, she had left the school, without giving her
instructer, or deeming it necessary to give him, any definite
reasons for so doing, since she then had as little suspicion of
the true motives of the hypocritical request that had induced
her to forego the pleasures of her pursuits at school, as she
had of the existence of the -contemptible plan laid for undermining the influence  and character of her respected
instructer.
But, although Amsden was made, for a while, to suffer, in
the minds of many, by this pitiful conspiracy, intended to
put the finishing touch to the other means which had been
used to disparage and destroy him, he was yet destined soon
to be exonerated from every injurious impression, in a manmer, which, had revenge been any part of his nature, would
have afforded him all the triumph he could have desired over
his despicable foe.
One evening, as Dr. Lincoln sat in his study, a boy entered, and, handing him a closely-sealed billet, disappeared. On
opening it, he was surprised to find it a confidential note
from Mary Maverick.  lHe had before heard several vague
hints relating to Amsden, which, owing to his unlimited confidence in the man, he had not understood.  Some of the
multiform aspersions, indeed, which had grown out of the
professor's notable scheme of ruin, had lately reached his
ears; but he had considered them so little worthy of notice,
that they had passed from his mind. The note before him,
however, brought the subject again to his thoughts, and he
naused in its perusal to try to recall what he had heard.
The writer commenced by mentioning the various attempts
of the professor to asperse Mir. Amsden, related briefly what
took place at Carter's while she was present, described the
coin which she herself had noticed lying on the table, and




,THE SCHOOLMIASRTER.               91
concluded by divulging what she had that day accidentally
overheard in the family -the whole circumstance attending the pretended loss of the piece, which she so much feared
was being made use of to injure one whom she believed
innocent, that she would not rest till she had taken the present step, though by the act she run the risk, she said, if her
name should be brought in question, of making still more
unpleasant her present not over-happy position in the family.
"  Well, well, my dove among jackdaws, you shan't be hurt
for the noble act you have here performed," said Lincoln
to himselfi "But that insufferable puppy -ay, villain, as
he has now proved himself! Why, there's not a doubt
that he slyly caught up this guinea with his gloves, and
pocketed it himself, as she evidently suspects.'Well, he will
be a lucky fellow if he do n't eventually find himself in the
pit he has been digging for another. If I could get hold of
that same coin! -stay, what is the reason I have not seen
one with similar marks on it lately, somewhere? - yes,
somewhere —let me think. Ah! I have it - and if I am
righflt, no time should be lost," he added, springing from his
chair, seizing his hat and cane, and hastily leaving his office
for the destination to which his conclusions had directed him.
Prompted by his hatred, rendered more inveterate by the
conscious defeat he had received in his insolent attack on
Amsden at Carter's, the professor had taken a bold step, and
one which, to be successful, required, on his part, no little
management and caution. But, having seen the story, or
rather the odium of the charge put afloat in the shape he
had contrived to make it, intangible to his opponent, and
having already exultingly witnessed many- flattering results
from his scheme, he soon became unmindful of one point
which he should have particularly guarded. With the infatuated blindness with which Providence seems often to
visit the secret perpetrators of crime, to make them  become




192              LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
the instruments of their own detection and punishment, he
had recently put away the coin, and thus thrown within the
reach of his intended victim a weapon which the latter
could not only wield triumphantly in his own defence, but
hurl back upon the head of the aggressor with fatal effect.
The professor had put off the coin in question at the shop
of a jeweller in the village, where he often made purchases
in the line of trinkets. And it was to this shop that the
aroused and indignant Lincoln was now directing his steps;
having, the day previous, accidentally had a glimpse of the
important piece, as he was receiving change for a bank-note
offered in payment for some surgical instrument. The doctor
was completely successful in his object. He not only obtained the desired coin, in exchange for an equal amount of
his own money, but ascertained that it came from Tilden's
hand but two days before. And having effected this, without
making known to the jeweller his purpose in so doing, he irnmediately returned, with the prize in his pocket, to his office,
compared it with the description in Mary's note, and found
it must be the identical piece that Amsden had indirectly
been charged with purloining. Amsden was instantly sent
for, and in a few minutes made his appearance.
~" MNy temper has been sadly ruffled, Mr. Amsden," said the
doctor, pointing the other to a chair beside him.
"T Indeed, sir? " inquiringly replied the former, in surprise;
for he knew not for what purpose he had been summoned.
" Ay; but here, read this note from that paragon of a girl,
Mary Maverick, and heed her request about bringing her
name in question. The necessity of the case must be my
excuse for showing it, even to you."
Locke read the billet, part of it, at least, with the utmost
astonishiment.
"And what do you think now, sir?" asked Lincoln, as the
other finished the perusal of the paper.




THE SCHOOLMASTER.                193
"As I judge she does. I was aware of Tilden's disposition to injure me; and I have been conscious, for a week or
two past, that some secret influence was operating against me
and my school, in which I suspected the fellow was exercising an active part. But I little dreamed that he would resort
to a measure so base and reckless. Why, sir, what would
you make of a man who could do this?"
"An arrogant, but mean and revengeful puppy. He has
not wit enough even to dignify him with the name of villain.
Look here! did you ever see that coin before?" said the
speaker, taking out the piece he had just obtained from the
jeweller, and handing it to Amsden.
" I have," replied the latter, as he inspected the piece with
a look of joyful surprise. "I saw it lying on the table at
Carter's, on the evening in question, and noticed these marks
on the face of it. It is the same, and lucky the chance that
has brought it to the hands of a friend. I should not fear
this story with those who know me; but with others, this
would furnish the only testimony that would save me from
disgrace. Where did you get hold of it?"
The doctor then related the circumstances we have already
mentioned, and concluded by saying, -
"; Well, Mr. Amsden, what do you propose to do about this
despicable business?"
"' I shall not suffer it to rest here, sir," replied the other,
decidedly.
" Nor I; but what course are you thinking to pursue?"
asked the former.
" To arrest the mischief at the fountain-head," answered
Amsden, with increasing energy. "I had heard of the
course of this pitiful traducer towards myself, previous to
encountering him at Carter's; but I was not much troubled
by it. And even when I there met him, and received from
him what I felt was most ungentlemanly treatment, it did not




1l                 tC94'xE  AMrns,   u
disturb ime so much as some other circumstances thlat have
occurred since my residence among you.  But this subsequent attempt is of a different character.  And in justice to
my school, and to you, sir, my employer, as well as to myself,
I shall take prompt means to clear myself from lthe aspersion.  lHe shall bring me betiore some legal tribumal, or, if
possible, I will bring him."
"' Well, said Lincoln, musingly, walking the room with his
hands in his pockets; w' ell, I do n't see why you have not
now the staff inl your own hands.  But have you thought of
all the results that may flow from the measures you propose?
If I predict right,i your course will end in driving him  from
the town.  Where then," continued the speaker, assuming a
look and tone o-f sarcatstic irony, "where then will be our
Select, Aeademy of Elegant Liter ature,'so very distinzqgue'
where, ti:ien will be robtained the accomplishments it affords,'so er'ty re  rcA?  Think, sir, of -the luckless situation in
whiieh tile ifaR ionlable society of Cartersville would then be
lef't tllilk of the half-drawn landscapes which must be
thrown aside - the unstrung harps and pianos that will have
been purchased at such cost but to be abandoned - think of
the public elmamity that must ensue from compelling the sons
and daughters of the wealthy and genteel to depend only for
their accoimplishmients on those old, worn-out, unfashionable,
and vulgar studies which you still persist in teachirng - and,
above all, think of the deplorable condition of our young
ladies, if they were thus driven from their French, and could
only converse in nothing but common English."
"Ay, ay," said Locke, laughing; " but we will leave it to
the professor to chant the elegy, if such sad consequences are
to follow from his own acts. In the mean time, let me ask
you to furnish me with pen, ink, and paper."
"What! are you going to send a note to the professor, to
set before him. the alternative yot ma.entioned -tht of pros




ecuting or being prosecuted?" asked the other, handing tlhe
requiredi  mterials.
6I amili, sir,"' replied Amsden, beginning to write.
"Do so," 1rejoined Lincoln, approvingly.  Andl  I anim glad
to see you act with so much spirit and promptitude on the
oc(casion. Tou shall not want for one fi'iend to stand by you.
But perhaps you had not better let him know that we hlave
got possession of the guinea.  And, further, I think I would
give him  some little time — say a fortnilght, to undo ali the
mischief lhe has clone; that i., to retract, confil.ss, and follow
his slanders throulgh every channel where hle has sent them,
and honestly refute them, if he prefeis that course: if not,
theil let him  take one of the alternatives you lhave just
named."
"I will follow your suggestions,"  answered Amsden. "The
first may be a wise one; the last is certaihly mercifill, and if
h1e will profit by it, I shall hlave no disposition further to
molest him."
The note was completed, and immediately sent off to its
destination by one of the servants of the house; when Locke
and his friend separated, to avwait with patience, and silently,
the result of their rnovement.
Ve will now turn to the soi-disant professor, with whom
we shall have but little more to do; for his career, in this
place, as Dr. Lincoln had shrewdly predicted, was now a
brief one.  hIe was alone in his room when the doctor's servant entered and delivered Amsdenr's letter', which, as he
knew  the servant, he received with rather a doubtful and
uneasy expression.  And no sooner was the messeng er's
back turned, than he tore open thle note, ancd eagerly ran
over its contents, at which his usual air of swaggering   assurance instantly forsook himi.  Crumpling up the paper, and
thrusting it into his pocket, he rose, and for some momnents
paced the floor in visible agitation.




196,OCE AMDE9, Oa
" Perhaps it is not too late to defeat him now," he at length
began to think aloud. "But that guinea must be secured,
and the nman must be bribed to hold his tongue.  I wonder I
was so thoughtless; but these shopmen are so clamorous for
their debts. Yes, I must have that before I sleep, and luckily
I now have what will bring it."
So saying, he threw  his gaily-tasselled cloak over his
shoulders, and took his way to the shop of the jeweller,
whom he found preparing to retire for the night.
"You recollect that curiously stamped gold piece I paid
you the other day?" said the professor to the man.
"; Yes."
"Well, it being a present from a friend in town, whom I
would not for the world have know that I had parted with it,
I have brought the amount in other money to get it back
again."
"Why, sir, I'm sorry, but you are a little too late."
"' ow so?"
"' I parted with it this very evening."
"To whom, pray?"
" To Dr. Lincoln,"
The professor actually turned pale-at the announcement;
but he made shift to stammer out, with an effort at indifference, " O, well, it's no sort of consequence, sir," and ab.
ruptly departed.
He was now in a dilemma, from which he could see no
way to escape without disgrace to his character, or ruin to
his prospects. Turn which way he would, the difficulties
seemed equally insurmountable. Whether he prosecuted or
was prosecuted himself, an investigation must ensue, which
he well knew would place him in a light alike fatal to his
pretensions and prospects.  Should he take the other alternative, confess, and try to recall his slanders, he must not
only virtually proclaim  himself a liar and a cent nmptibla




THBE SCfOOLIASTER.                 197
calumniator, but at the same time elevate his rival at the
expense of his own degradation. In short, lie plainly obresaw
that the days of' his g!ory in Cartersville were numbered.
And he soon concluded to shape his course accordingly.
It was among the very last of the unimproved days of
grace that had been allowed the professor, when one morning, as the Carter family assembled for breakfast, 1Miss Ann
Lucretia, the eldest daughter, failed to make her appearance.
A search was made through the house; but she was still
amongo the missing.  All was now  confusion and alarm.
Miessengers were despatched to all those places about the
village, to which it was thought possible she might have
gone out before the family had risen. No tidings, however,
of the object of the search could be obtained; and one of
the messengers, on his return, further reported that Professor
Tilden was also missing. A  painful suspicion crossed the
minds of the weak and blinded parents.  They now recollected that their daughter, for the past week, had been much
of the time alone with her instructor; and that she had also,
during the time, found some excuse for sleeping in a room
by herself, from which an easy access could be had to the
outer door. And they ran instantly to the apartment she
had occupied.  Her bed had not been used the past night,
and all her best apparel had disappeared. The whole truth
was now disclosed.  She had eloped with the professor.
MIrs. Carter was deeply chagrined, though she said little,
except to express her surprise.  But Mr. Carter, who now
saw his folly in leaving every thing relating to his dauLghters to
his wife, was loud in his denunciations of the conduct of both
of' the absconding couple, and at first declared his intention
to pursue them.  But, reflecting that before this time they
were probably married, and thirty miles distant, on their way
to one of the cities, he soon gave up the thought.  There
were others, however, in the village - in which the occurs




198                LOOCKE AMSDEN;   OR
rence made mnuch stir - who, for a different reason, actually
made'prparations for pursuit.  Tlhese Aere tile me'Cllhnts,
tailors, shloemakl:ers, &c., who hiad been fkavored by the liberal
patronage of thie professor, during his year's residence in town.
But they, too, soon discovered, on recuirring to their claims,
that their man hlad prudently placed himself out of their
reach for the present.  It appeared that, during the past
fortnight, he had not only obtained all that was due him firomn
his patrons, but had taken the precaution to settle with all
his creditors, paying off some of the least, and giving his
notes to the rest, payable in one or two months.  And, it.
being thus fbound that pursuit would be alike useless to all
parties concerned, the measure was at length abandoned, and
the distinguished pair left to pursue their journey unmolested.:During the forenoon, the following note, which had beenoverlooked in the first search, addressed to the oldest remaianing sister, was found in the room last occupied by the fair
fugitive:
" DEAR ANGELINE,
6" Before you receive this, I shall be Mrs. M3anlius C..W
Tilden. We have engaged a fleet pair of horses and a rapid
driver to take us to -----—, where a magistrate will be ili
waiting to tie the knot, and where, having been joined by a
friend of AMr. T. as bridesman and compagnon da voyage, we
shall take the stage at four o'clock, A.M., for New York -
Br. T.'s former residence, you know.  He has been for some
time getting disgusted with the petty annoyances of a country village, which, besides, he says, is no field for his talents.
But he could not bear to leave me.  I-e offered his hand;
and, fearing papa would object, especially to so sudden a
match as he was resolved to make, or none -lie proposed
the present romantic manner of making our adieus to Car.
tersville -it is so like him!   We1l Angeline, what would




THE SCHOOLMASTER.                199
you have done? But if you had felt the tender sentiment,
Ii know what you would have done. And then think of the
enviable station I[ shall fill among the very elite of city
society, surrounded by all the elegancies and refinements of
city life! All this he feels free to promise me; and I do
suppose he is soon to come in possession of a splendid fortune,
though he is so modest about it that I only obtained the secret
from him by some inadvertent hints he has dropped. I
anticipate how surprised you will all be, and I hardly expect
papa will fully approve my course at first -perhaps mamma
will not; but I know you will appreciate me, and so will Matilda Mandevelle. I will write you again when we reach the
city, till which,
"With all the sensibilities of a refined nature,
"I remain affectionately, your
~s ANxN LUCRETIA."
The name and character of the friend and compagnon du
voyage, mentioned in the foregoing epistle, was more fully
disclosed the next day, by the following editorial notice in
The Blazing Star, which came into town, all damp from the
press of Mill-Town Emporium:
"C BASENESS EXPOSE D!
"Our flourishing village was thrown into confusion this
morning, by the discovery that our village schoolmaster,
Blake by name,-if that be his true name,-had decamped,
having artfully obtained the wages for the full term of his
engagement, but a little more than half of which he had
fulfilled. Some fears are also entertained respecting the
value of a pretended jewelled watch which he lately sold to
one of our citizens for fifty dollars; but enough has been
said to caution the public, which, as faithful journalists, was
our duty to do. There can be but little doubt that the fellow"




200              LOCKE AMISDEN, OR
was an impostor. And our political patrons will not be sure
prised to learn, that his politics, though he at first professed
to hold to our true doctrines, turned out to be in unison with
those of that party from whom such things are to be expected.- Ed. Blazing Star."
It was now evident that the dashing professor, and his less
accomplished, though scarcely less superficial fiiend, Blake,
who, as the reader will remember, was Amsden's successful
rival in the competition for the Mill-Town school, were confederate impostors. But what had been the nature of their
previous connection, or whether their career had been marked by outright villanies, or merely by petty impositions on
the public, was not known for nearly a fortnight; when a
young merchant from New York, arriving on a visit to his
relatives in the village, reported that he had encountered,
soon after leaving the city, the bride, her husband, and his
friend; and soon recognized the two last-named worthies as a
couple of fourth-rate actors, or some other unimportant adjuncts of one of the city theatres, from which they had both
been driven in disgrace about two years before; after which
they had occasionally been heard from, perambulating the
country in the same direction; one - that is, Tilden - pretending to lecture on elocution, the art of reading, &c., and
the other obtaining unauthorized subscriptions for periodicals.
And these important and honest employments, it was thus
made probable, they had pursued, till the former found an
inviting opening for his versatile talents in a new character
among the would-be fashionables of Cartersville, and afterwards another, for his congenial friend, in Mill-Town Emporium.
This was indeed a mortifying development for the proud
Carters; and the females especially, who had never dreamed
of any of their number marrying any thing short of counts




THE SCHOOLMASTER.                201
congressmen, or something equally high-sounding, could
hardly hold up their heads, under the keen sense of the disgrace which they conceived had been brought on their family.
Mr. Carter, however, who cared little for any other family
distinction than what property, or at least the certainty of a
good living, would confer -still had some hopes that his
daughter, rash as she had been, might after all have married
a man of enterprise, integrity, and capacity sufficient to
maintain her respectably from his own resources. But the
solace of even these faint hopes was soon taken from him.
In a few days more, he himself received a letter from his
deluded child, the main points of which were evidently dictated by her husband.
After excusing herself for the step she had taken in the
best way she could, and speaking of her prospects in a much
more moderate tone than that which pervaded her letter to
her sister on her departure, she told her father that she felt
very sure, whatever might happen, that he would never let her
want money to support her in the style in which he had brought
her up; and then she added, that Tilden-it was now plain
Tilden -lhad met with a chance to invest her portion to
very great advantage, and was very anxious, for her sake, to
have it sent on, in drafts on some bank or commercial house
in the city. The amount, she said, could not be less than
twenty thousand dollars; but she would be content, at present,
with ten thousand. This she begged of her father not to
neglect sending in a few days, as it would make her husband
so much happier. And in a postscript she repeated, "Do
not fail to send on the drafts."
This was too much for the old gentleman, who, being by
no means wanting in sagacity, now at once read the true
character of Tilden, and the base motives which had governed him in drawing the weak and unsuspecting girl into
this clandestine marriage.




202               LOCKE AISDENi, Or
"Ten thousand!" he exclaimed to himself, as, hurling the
letter into the fire, he hastily strode round his counting-room
in a paroxysm  of exasperated feeling,-" ten thousand!
Quite modest, truly!  0! the worthless, fortune-hunting
scoundrel!  Ten thousand! HIe will be apt to get it, I
think. But what will become of the poor, deceived, ruined
girl?" he continued, his indignation softening into pity. " If
she ever gets rid of the villain, I hope there may be that
sum left for her. But the rig these women have run! And
I, like a fool, have yielded to it! I fear —I fear, that this
disaster to my family will prove but the forerunner of worse
ones. Heaven help me!"
The words of the distressed and foreboding father were
but too prophetic; for this was the first of a series of misfortunes which were destined to fall, in rapid succession,
upon this house of folly, and level its vain-glorious pretensions with the dust. But, as this will appear by pursuing
the main thread of our narrative, we will now return to our
hero.
As the reader may have perhaps already anticipated, the
disgraceful flight of Tilden, and the disclosures that followed,
respecting not only his character and false pretensions, but
the base slanders he had originated, operated as a proud
triumph to Amsden and his school. Many a man is indebted
for his character almost wholly to contrast. And if such be
the effect - as under favoring circumstances it often is - of
a contrast between the demerits of one, and the mere negative qualities of another, in conferring character on the
latter, it would be strange, indeed, if the operation of this
principle, under circumstances so well calculated to call it
into action, did not greatly tend to bring one of Amsden's
high desert into notice, and place him on the elevation to
which his merits entitled him. It did so. The very measures that Tilden had taken for the disparagement and ruia




Trm SCIoOOLMASTEt.                 203
of his rival were now the means of turning the minds of
the public to a comparison between the two, and of causing
thereby to be done to the latter that justice which he otherwise might never have obtained. All the pupils that, onl
different pretences, had been withdrawn from his school, were
at once permitted to return.  The professor's Academy of
Elegant Literature became, by the association with its
doughty projector, a theme of ridicule; and the empty, and
worse than empty, accomplishments it afforded, soon began to
be accounted-as the miserable scientific tinselings imparted
by hundreds of other similar establishments in our land
under the name of accomplishments deserve to be accounted -
less a term of honor than reproach.  Even those ultra genteel families who had only patronized the select or private
school system, now sent in their children, arid began to open
their eyes to the solid advantages to be obtained from common schools, under wellqualified instructers. The remainder
of our hero's term  of engagement, therefore, was marked
with a success that amply repaid him  for all his previous
toils and vexations; and his labors now became as pleasant
for himself as they were profitable to his pupils.
It was now past the middle of April.  The period for
which Amsden had concluded to continue his instructions
had at length drawn to a close; and the time had arrived
when he was called to that interesting yet mournftl task for
a teacher - the parting with his pupils, on the last day and
hour of his school.
The tie that obtains between instructer and pupil, where
the right feelings have been cherished and reciprocated, is
one of peculiar interest.  It consists, in the bosom of the
one, of that tender regard, that disinterested affection, which
is made up of several of the best and strongest propensities of
our nature -the compassionate and kindly inclination which
the conscious strong are prone to entertain towards the weak




204                 OCOKE AMNSIDEN,
and dependent; the retard which is engendered towards
thlose with whomon lhabit has made us tamiliar, and the peculiar
favor with which we are wont to view our own creations, as
the minds, manners, and characters of those we have successfully taught, may be considered; - in the bosom of one,
it consists of' this. In that of the other, the tie is composed
of that reverential esteem which is founded in the blended
principles of gratitude for benefits received, and the inherent
respect which is ever felt for superior powers, all combining to
form the purest and the most exalted friendship that ennobles
the human heart.  The connection, indeed, has about it a
beautiful patriarchal character, owhich renders it one of the
most interesting relations in the world.  And few can look
back to the final parting with a respected and beloved instructer, without the most grateful emotions.
The parting hour, as we have said, had come -too soon
come.  The farewell address, fraught witlh many an allusion
to all that could be remembered for praise in the past, many
a kind word of advice for the future, and many an affectionate wish for the individual prosperity and happiness of each
and all of the eloquently silent and often tearful little auditory, was spoken, and the word of final dismissal reluctantly
pronounced.  Wlith a thoughtful and solemn quietness of
manner, little resembling the noisy glee of other occasions,
the books were gathered; and one by one the dispersing band
came up, took the proffered hand of their loved instructer,
uttered the subdued good-bye, and departed.  But why was
that hand, as if too busy with other occupations, so long
withheld fr-om one more tenderly regarded than al1 the rest?
And why did she, without concert or request, still linger, till
the last adieu had been spoken, and the last retreating form
disappeared from the roon  still linger to receive it?  And
why, in the hesitating, trermulous, and prolongued grasp that
then followed, was no farewell, no word, no syll.able, or




THEX  SCHOOLMASTEao                205
sound, uttered?  Why were these two, whose thoughts on
science, literature, the sentiments, or other general topics,
ever seemed to flow togetllelr, like two uniting streams fiom
fountains of kindred purity and clearness, and whose tongues
ever before grew eloquent in the converse which was sure
to spring up between them, and which never wearied,- i-why
were two like these dumb now? There are states of feeling,
when the strong, deep-laid elements of the heart are stirred,
which seem wholly to reject the utterance of language, —sometimes because words must fail of an adequate expression,
and sometimes because those feelings are so consciously
sacred, that they involuntarily shrink from  the conceived
profanation of such a medium.  Both of these cases might
have been combined at this parting between Locke Amsden
and M3ary Mtaverick.  Be that as it may, the quivering lip
and the agitated countenance of the one, and the quick-heaving bosom. and the gushing eye of the other, as, fiom the long
mute grasp they turned hurriedly away, constituted the only
language that told the sensations of their hearts.  It had
never spoken before; but it had spoken distinctly now, revealing to them, for the first time, their own and each other's
secret, and apprising them that the deep, unanalyzed, unacknowledged feeling, that had been sleeping and gathering
strength in their attracted bosoms, had a name; and that
its name was only to be found in the magic word, Love.




CHAPTER XI.
"A long-lost friend, or hapless child restored,
Smiles at his blazing hearth and social board;
Warm from his heart the tears of rapture flow,
And virtue triumphs o'er remembered woe."
CAMPBELL.
BIDDING adieu to the now deserted and lonely mansion
which to him had been, for the four past fleeting months, the
scene of so many mingling pleasures, toils, and trials, our
hero, with slow and pensive steps, returned to his lodgings.
He had contemplated making several calls that evening, both
for the transaction of business, and the reciprocation of
courtesies received, preparatory to leaving town the next
morning.  But the strong and varied emotions which had
been excited in the scene he had just passed through, added
to the state of his health, that, for several days, he had felt
to be giving way, had so much disinclined and unfitted him
to meet company, that he soon concluded to defer his visits
till the following morning, and retire, as he early did, to the
more congenial seclusion of his own room, where he could
indulge the moody reveries of his mind, and the physical
languor of his feelings, unrestrained and unmolested.  Here
his thoughts reverted to the past.  He recalled the interest~
ing incidents described at the opening of these pages, forming, as he was ever sensible, the first marked era of his life.
He recurred to the unconsciously prophetic intimation then
given him  of his subsequent career by her whose image,
while she thus indicated the way, imparted an ever-during




Tnr SOCOOLMASTIL                 207
impulse to pursue it. And with pleased and curious thought,
he ran over the events that followed: the persevering exerv
tions which had resulted in bringing him before the public as
a teacher; the engagement in his first school, attended by
the singular circumstances that led to an acquaintance with
the only man who would have brought him to Cartersville,
and the only man, who, when this was effected, would or
could have placed him and the fair prophetess and seeming
maker of his fortunes together in the relation they had lately
sustained to each other. IHe saw, or thought he saw, in all
this, a train of circumstances which formed the connecting
links of a chain of destiny, which, from the parts disclosed,
the ministering sisters, Hope and Fancy, now tempted him
to trace onward into the dim confines of filturity, gilding the
way for him, as usual, with many a bright illusion, and
opening to his enchanted view many a fairy scene of love
and happiness for him and the fair cynosure of his waking
dream. But Reason and Conscience, here interposing, checked the lured heart in its rising anticipations, and coldly whispered of present destitution, —of the distant prospect of
worldly means, on the one hand, and, on the other, of orphan
innocence, inexperience, and perhaps love, that might listen
to a connection involving circumstances which must defeat
its own object, and bring poverty and its attendant miseries
upon one who was worthy of, and who would otherwise meet
with, a happier destiny.
Such were the conflicting emotions that now strangely
agitated the usually tranquil mind of Amsden, as, for hours,
he slowly paced his solitary apartment, sometimes cheering
himself with the visions of Hope, and sometimes, as he
looked upon the stern realities of his present situation, and
those which his judgment told him would be likely to succeed,
sinking into despondency. The latter feeling, however, as
little good cause as he could assign for it, in any thing relat




2O8               LOCKE AMSnDE,  ON
ing to the past, or the rational prospects of the future, seemed
more and more to predominate. And, as the evening wore
away, he became conscious of an unusual depression of
spirits, a certain boding solicitude and restlessness of mind,
for which he could not account, but which he could not but
feel to be vaguely suggestive of some jeopardized interest,
or some approaching crisis of his fortunes. After endeavoring awhile, in vain, to shake off these constantly intruding
fancies, he betook himself to his pillow, and soon fell asleep.
But sleep brought no repose to disturbed sensibilities.  The
sweet restorer had lost the power of tranquillizing.  It is
Dryden, we believe, who says, in a couplet alike remarkable
for neatness of expression and condensed poetic thought,
"Dreams are but interludes that Fancy makes; -
When Reason sleeps, her mimic monster wakes."
But whether this contains the true philosophy of dreams or
not, it is certain that the idea here conveyed seemed to be
strikingly exemplified in the visions of the sleeper, that now
succeeded. While the same dark current of thoughts and
undefined solicitudes which occupied his last waking moments
continued to run in his mind, those thoughts, as reason ceased
to control and regulate, soon began to shape themselves into
a succession of wild and mysterious fantasies.  In all of
these, however, one characteristic prevailed. They all presented MIary Maverick as the principal figure, and always in
circumstances of difficulty or danger. In the last mimic
scene that was conjured up by the changing fancies of the
troubled dreamer, he at first seemed reclining on the flowery
bank of a sun-lit lake; a light boat came wafting before the
ruffling breeze towards the spot where he lay; as it approached, he distinguished, seated within, the same angelic form
and face which, in different situations, had been constantly
rising on his vision. She raised her white hand in token of




THE SCHOOLMASTER.                209
gratulation. Hle even thought he could trace the sweet
dimpling smile with which she was wont to receive him,
playing upon her countenance. "In one moment more," he
thought, "she will be safe and happy, and all her fearful
trials and perils will be over." But while he yet spoke, the
sun became suddenly hid by doubling racks of dark and
angry clouds, that seemed, with magic quickness, to have
been gathered from every part of the horizon to a point
dieectly over head. In another moment, the black convolving mass burst downward, and fell, in hurricane blasts, upon
the lake; converting at once its mirror-like surface into a
wild waste of tumbling, breaking, and raging billows, upon
which the frail little bark of his fair friend -by this time
almost within reach of his hand, now eagerly extended to
grasp it as it  came — began to pitch and whirl with a violence that threatened instant destruction. Now it was borne
off on the eddying surges, and lost to his sight in the clouds
of wind-driven mists and mingling atoms, that were sweeping
over the face of the agitated waters. Now again it appeared
on the refluent billows, and again it was lost. Once more it
was revealed to the eager and strained vision of the distressed lover; but it appeared now only to complete his
despair. It was foundering amidst the raging waves; and its
lovely freight, with an imploring look, was stretching forth
towards him her arms for aid. With a cry of agony, he
plunged into the angry flood for the rescue, and awoke -
awoke, and thanked Heaven that it was but a dream. But,
although the illusion was dissipated, and the particular excitement it had caused soon allayed, the same feelings with which
he fell asleep, the same boding, undefined solicitude which had
attended, and probably given character to all his dreams, still
continued to haunt and disturb him. The feeling grew even
more painfully oppressive, and, after trying awhile in vain to
sleep, he arose, lighted a lamp, and dressed himself. He con18*




210               LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
suited his watch, and found it past midnight. He listened for
some sounds from without; but all, for a while, seemed hushl
ed in repose. The silence, however, was at length broken by
the noise of heavily-rolling wheels and the splashing of horses'
feet, proceeding, as he soon concluded, from the southern
stage, which, owing to the bad travelling, had but just arrived,
and was now passing on its way to the post-office or stagehouse, at the other end of the village. As these sounds receded, he turned from them with indifference; for they were
not those which he seemed to have expected. But what did
he expect?  He knew not; and yet he felt a strange consciousness that something unusual was about to happen. And
in obedience to an impulse which now seized him, he took
his hat, descended to the door, and gained the street, without
being able to tell why he did so, or where he was going. As
he stood hesitating, a distant voice, in the earnest tones of
one calling for aid, reached his ears; he sprang round a corner; in the direction of the sound, and the next instant heard
repeated, by a nearer and more startling voice, the appalling
cry of fire!  "UCarter's house is on fire, and the family perishing in the flames!."  Heeding not the inquiries that now
assailed his ears amidst the creaking of the opening doors,
or hastily-raised window-sashes of almost every house around
him, Amsden bounded forward by the lurid light that now began to glimmer along the street, with the speed of the wind,
towards the spot indicated by this awful and, to him, agonizing announcement. The turn of another corner brought the
eaerly-sought building into plain view. It was completely
enveloped in one black, eddying cloud of swiftly-mounting
smoke, through which the flickering flames began fiercely to
gleam, as they burst successively from the windows along the
lower story. The domestics, who slept in this part of the
house, had just escaped. At that instant, a window was
dashed out from the second story; and Mr. Carter, his wife,




THE SCHOOLSIASTER.                 211
and daughters, were heard shouting and screaming for aid.
Arousing the stupefied scrvant., A-msden, by their aid, and
that of' one or two others, who by this time had reached the
spot, procured a laddcer, and placed it to the window  from
which the cries had been heard; when, one by one, the family were seen emerging, half-suffocated, fiom the thick smoke
that enveloped the upper part of the ladder, and hastily descending to the ground; the last one having barely time to
avoid the broad gush of flames that now burst friom the window below, and cut off all further chance of egress by the
avNenue tlhrough which they had so narrowly escaped. Standing at the fbot of the ladder, and eagerly examining the disfigured persons of' each of the females, as they came down,
Anlesden uttered an exclamation of despair, on findcling, as the
last one reached the ground, that she whorm  he most anxiously sought was not there!
" Where is Mlary?  0! where is Mary?" burst from his
agonized lips, as he cast a wild and frenzied look on those
around him.
"Yes, where? " responded Carter, throwing a startled and
agitated look upon his wife and daughters, as he now for the
first time discovered that the object of inquiry was not among
them.
"She ran back to add another article to her scant dress,
just as the ladder was raised for our escape," now recollected
one of' the females.
" Her retreat then was cut off by the flames," said the former;  11mount at some other place and find her, or in another
moment she is lost!"
Waiting only to catch the import of these replies to his
question, the mnaddened youth flew to the ladder, planted it
against another window, sprang up the rounds, and with a
billet of wood before caught up for the purpose, cleared both
sash and glass at a blow, and leaped in, to rescue his perilled




212              LocKE ADMSDEN, OR
friend, or perish with her. While this was transpiring, a
well-dressed gentleman, whom no one appeared to recognize,
came rushing, with distracted looks, through the crowd. He
had evidently been apprised, on the way, of the peril and
probable situation of the lady left in the burning building;
for, calling aloud for assistance, he seized a spare ladder, and,
with such help as was at hand, bore it round to an opposite
side of the house, reared it, ascended, beat in a window, and
quickly disappeared in the smoke that came pouring throull
the breach he had thus effected. For many minutes, nothing
was seen or heard of the two individuals who had thus
bravely hazarded their lives in the search. And as the fire,
which had commenced on the lower floor, was plainly seen
to be rapidly making its way upward, the spectators, now
equally alarmed for the fate of all within, awaited, with
breathless anxiety, for their reappearance.  Suddenly, the
crash of a breaking window, in a different room from those
which either of the two bold adventurers had entered, was
heard; and they were seen, in the flying fragments and out.
pouring smoke, throwing themselves headlong through th6
opening, to the ground. They had rushed through the halffired chambers in the fruitless search for the supposed perishing girl, till, their retreat being cut off, they met, nearly
suffocated by the vapor, and took the only course left them
to save their lives. The stranger, though not materially injured by the fall, was yet so much stunned, that he was taken
up and borne off nearly senseless, out of the crowd. Amsden almost instantly gained his feet, and rushed, convulsed
and gasping for breath, out of the stifling smoke and heat
that encircled the spot, into the firesh air. The eyes of all
followed him, and many gathered round to hear if he brought
hope or information on the subject of the general solicitude.
He did not, could not, utter words; but his woe-speaking
countenance, as he looked upon the burning pile, and turned




s CHOoLMAstER.                   213
hopelessly away from tile overpowering sight, told the sad tale
that his tongue would have uttered. And the next moment
brought confirmation, to the minds of all, of the dreadful supposition. A general burst of flames through every window
below the roof of the building, disclosed the whole interior
in a mass of flames, glowing with the bright heat of a furnace. "She is lost! she is lost! " now rose, in the low, deep
murmurs of grief, from the shuddering throng, who stood
appalled at the thought of a fate so awful, for one so good, so
loved, and so lovely. With the subsidence of this burst of
anguished sensibilities, a funereal silence for some moments
pervaded the whole assembled multitude. The tumultuous
shouts and varied commotion that had marked the scene,
seemed hushed into awe; and nought was heard but the
ceaseless crackling of consuming timbers, and the dull, farsounding roar of the mounting flames. The gloomy silence,
however, was soon broken by a cry of mingled joy and horror which now arose from a new and unexpected spectacle.
She, whom all had given up as lost, was discovered, emerging from the scuttle, on to the nearly flat roof of the building,
and advancing, with hasty, agitated steps, to the low terrace
that ran round it at the eaves. Here, in the occasional openings of the eddying smoke that was swiftly whirling over
and around her, she was seen, looking hopelessly down from
the dizzy height, upon the anxious throng of friends below,
who saw no way to rescue her from the fiery tomb, in which
the already trembling fabric gave token she must soon be
engulfed. In a moment she appeared to single out her distressed lover from the crowd; and she stretched forth her
arms towards him, with the same imploring look with which
he had seen her in his dream. Aroused by the mute appeal
from the stupor witll which his overmastering emotions had
chained him to the spot where he stood, at the thrilling sight
that had been so unexpectedly revealed, Amsden sprang for.




A 4A              LOC hn AM DEN 1. on
ward to the very verge of the flanmes, and, calling aloud for
assistance, looked distractedly round for some means by
which she might yet be snatched from the fearful doom that
hung over her. But how was any effectual assistance to be
rendered?  The body of the building, which was isolated
from all others, was now but a bright mass of fire; while the
whole compass of its exterior, on every side, from the base
nearly to the eaves, was wrapped by the flashing gusts of the
same fearful element.  There was no ladder to be had long
enough to reach the roof, or near it, if placed at an inclination in which it would be out of reach of the flames.  Other
expedients were, indeed, hastily suggested; but each in its
turn, was quickly rejected, as wholly fruitless.  And the
seemingly fated girlM was again -about to be given up as beyond
the reach of all human assistance, when an encouraging
shout, as of' approaching aid, was raised by those standing in
the outer circles of the crowd.  Eager to grasp at every appearance of hope, Amsden turned his eyes to the quarter
from which the sounds proceeded, and beheld a small party
rapidly approaching, with a long spliced ladder on their
shoulders.  As they drew near, the former unexpectedly recognized, in the burly frame and energetic manner of the
foremost, his old fiiend Bunker, who, it appeared, having
been aroused by the alarm from  an inn nearly two miles
distant, reached by him on a journey, a few hours before, had
arrived just as the present emergency arose, and, with a
quick glance at the means of relief, ran back to a neighboring
barn, where he procuredQ and hastily lashed together, the implements with which he and others were now rushing forward
to the rescue.
" Be ready there with pike-poles and pitch-forXls to raise
it," he exclaimed to the receding throng, as with long, rapid
strides he came sweeping with his end of the load to the
spot.  "She may be saved!  Now up with this ladder; aund




5E MCHOOLMASATFr-.195
hu! there, you firemen! bring round your engine to bear
on this side of the building to deaden the flames! What!
can you neither think nor act?  I tell you she must be
saved!"
With that sort of half-mechanical obedience which superior energy and promptitude will always command, in a crisis
of difficulty and danger, the before uncertain and paralyzed
crowd, now aroused by the startling and authoritative tones
of the speaker, began to move with alacrity to do his bidding.
While the fire-engine, soon adjusted for the purpose, was
pouring its torrents upon the space of flames immediately
required to be held in check, the tall ladder was hurled into
the air, and carefully lowered, till its upper end was brought
on to the roof, almost at the feet of the perilled maiden.
N"N ow, young lady," shouted Bunker, in a voice that rose
distinct above the noise of the multitude and the roaring of
the flames, "if you have a head and hand steady enough,
come down; for you have not a moment to lose!"
Evidently understanding the words that had been thus addressed her, the agitated girl instantly advanced, and stepping over the verge of the dizzy pinnacle, placed her foot
upon one of the first rounds of the ladder - when, at the
sensation which appeared to come over her, as she glanced
down from the fearful height to the earth, partially disclosed
to her recoiling senses in the disrupturing clouds of smoke
and flame that were seething and raging beneath her, she
suddenly stopped, put her hand to her head, and, with a
shudder, sunk back unnerved and prostrate upon the roof.
"M Way the Lord have mercy on her!" cried Bunker, in
tones of distress. "She has not the nerve to do it, poor
thing! And this ladder may give way under the weight of
two. But I cannot stand and see her die so. No, it must
be tried," he added, turning to those around him, and prepar



216               LOCKE AMSDEN, ON
ing to mount himself. "So, under there with your longest
poles to sustain and steady the ladder, as well as you can
when we come down; for I will save her or go with her."
He was anticipated, however, in his intended: ascent.
Amsden, who had stood by, watching every movement with
an intenseness of anxiety that had deprived him of the power
of utterance, now rushed past his brave old friend, and, with
a look of mute desperation, rapidly mounted the ladder, and
soon disappeared in the smoke, on his perilous destination.
The eyes of all were now turned upwards, with intense
and eager gaze, to the vapor-screened roof, as they stood
awaiting, in silent and trembling suspense, the result of the
last effort which they felt could be made to snatch the luckless girl from her doom. But more than a minute elapsed
before their senses were greeted by either sight or sound
from the objects of their common anxiety; when "They
come! they come! " burst from a distant part of the crowd.
And the next instant the heroic young man was seen by all,
sliding slowly and cautiously from round to round, down the
ladder, with one arm firmly grasping his lovely burden, as
she lay shudderingly clinging to his bosom, and the other
employed in aiding his difficult and dangerous progress.
The first fifteen feet of their descent was luckily accomplished without disaster or alarm. And this brought them so far
out of the upward current of smoke and heat, that they now
could breathe with comparative freedom. But the most perilous part of their passage still remained. And this became
so frightfully manifest by the bending and cracking of the
frail implement, as they approached the middle, that it was
apparent the over-strained sides were about to give way,
and precipitate them to the earth beneath or hurl them back
among the blazing ruins of the tottering fabric from which
they had so far escaped.




THE SCHOOLMASTER.                217
"Hold! hold there, above, or you are lost!" shouted
bunker, from beneath the ladder, as he and others were
endeavoring to support it with their poles.
A moment of awful suspense followed. But while all
others seemed to be deprived of the power of thought and
action, by the awful spectacle of two human beings suspended, as if by a hair, over certain destruction, the coolness and
presence of mind of the man who had already effected so
much were again conspicuous. Casting an uneasy and hurried glance around for some means of averting the fearfully
pressing evil, his eye fell upon an old carriage, standing in a
distant part of the yard. This, by the loud and rapid orders
which he then instantly gave, as he still stood, straining
every nerve, at his post, was hastily rolled forward, and run
so far within the line of the fire beneath the ladder, that it
at once became nearly enveloped in the flames. Then calling on the firemen to turn their engine full Upon himself, he
mounted the top of the carriage with his pike-pole; and,
while a drenching column of water was pouring directly
upon his person, he soon gained a hold upon the ladder
above, at so high a point as to secure it from any further
danger of giving way, so long as he could remain in the hazardous and nearly insupportable position in which he had
thus placed himself.
"Now be on the move there, above!" he exclaimed, in
tones which plainly told what his effort was costing him.
" The house is on the point of falling in; and, for your own
sakes as well as mine, I warn you to be lively! "
Before these ominous words were out of the mouth of the
speaker, Amsden, who had remained, in the mean time, stationary on his weak and failing support, without stirring a
muscle, was rapidly gliding downward, with his still uninjured charge. In a moment the point of danger was passed.
In another, Bunker was seen leaping from his stand to avoid




218 rLCK.                        0o
the falling ladder, which, with the crashing roof above, now
came down in a blazing mass together. But the irrepressible
shout of joyful exultation that the next instant burst fiom the
assembled multitude proclaimed to the ringing welkin around,
that both the delivered and the deliverer were standing upon
the earth in safety.
At that moment, a gentleman, hastily making his way
through the crowd, rushed up to the rescued party, exclaiming, n "My daughter! my daughter! " and, clasping the bewildered girl in his arms, and murmuring an ejaculation of
thanks to Heaven for her deliverance, he led her away fiom
the spot.
Amsden cast a surprised and inquiring look at the person
who hiad thus unexpectedly appeared with the claims implied
by the exclamations just uttered, when he recognized, in his
general appearance, the stranger with whom  he had so
nearly perishled in the burning house. But the condition in
which lhe now found himself precluded all further thought or
inquiry on the subject. A strange, giddy, and sickening sensation came over him; and, staggering, and grasping for
something to support him, he was caught by Bunker, who
immediately conveyed him, sick and helpless, to his lodgings.
The unwonted exertions, and the fearful excitement of the
night, had been too much for his already debilitated system;
and his failing strength and overtasked nerves had given
way together. lie rapidly grew worse, and, before morning,
was delirious with a raging fever.
0! who can follow the here confused and tangled thread
of the sufferer's intellectual existence?  Ay, who can give
an adequate description of the aimless operations of a mind
unsettled by disease -the dark and ceaseless turmoil of
ever-changing, yet ever-recurring images -the vague, fleeting, mysterious, half-formed shapes, that are constantly rising
on the troubled vision, passing through a thousand rapid and




T  HE OCC LHATAI'5;TAGT    -       219
startling  mutations, and sinking away to make room for others, seemingly different, yet felt to be the same -the haunting, hurrying, impelling consciousness of objects to be sought,
but never obtained, and the deep and distressing sense of
perplexity and helpless wretchedness that continues through
the whole oppressively to brood over the distracted mind?
Wrho, we repeat, can describe operations like these?  No
one.  No pen, though guided by one who speaks from experience, can draw a picture bearing even the stamp of resemblance; and yet every one who thus speaks, feels that, while
in that state, he was conscious of the passing of incidents
enough to compose the varying scenes of a whole life.
For more than a fortnight, in despite of the daily, and often
hourly attendance of the assiduous and skilful Lincoln, and
the unwearied ministering of the kindest of friends, lay
Locke Amsden; his prostrate body the helpless and almost
hopeless prey of disease, and his sympathizing mind the
sport of those troublous and distressing fantasies of the fevered brain, which we can name as such, but never describe.
The taper of life, however, though often seeming but to flicker
in its socket, continued to burn on; and, at length, nature
began slowly to rally, and the invading enemy to retire from
the long-disputed field of contest.
It was the beginning of the third week from the night
which proved so eventful to the leading personages of our
story, that Amsden, after several hours of calm and refreshing slumbers, awoke in full possession of his reason.
" What a lon-g, long, troubled dream! " at length he faintly uttered.
A slight rustling in the room now attracted his attention;
and, turning his head, he caught a glimpse of a female fing
ure, quietly gliding out through the door. In a moment
more the door was reopened, when a matronly-looking wo-.




220   BLOCKYE AMISDEN, OR
man entered, and, and, approaching the bedside of the evidently
surprised invalid, gently asked, —
" Locke, do you know me? Ay, you do now, do n't you,
my son?"
"My mother - but how came you here?"
"I came nearly ten days ago, to nurse you, Locke. You
have been very sick, though for the last two days you have
grown much better; and you would have known me before,
probably, had we thought it best to arouse you so thoroughly
from your sleep as we might have done."
" Then my mind has been wandering the whole time, I
suppose —perhaps it is all a dream. When you came in, 1
was trying to recall, and to distinguish what might be reality
from what was not."
"It may be you are mingling reality and your disordered
fancies together. People will do so, on coming to their reason, it is said. But what do you allude to, in particular?"
"The burning of Carter's house, - our escape, -and then
a great many other confused scenes, which I thought at first
I could recall."
"The house you name was indeed burnt; and the same
kind Providence that has preserved you through this distressing sickness, permitted you, and all that were endangered, to
escape from the dreadful element. It must have been an
awful scene. It made me shudder to hear Captain Bunker
describe it."
" Captain Bunker? Did he remain with me till you arrived."
"Why, he came after me, my son, brought me here, and
continued with us several days afterwards, watching over you
with all the seeming anxiety of a parent. And, on taking
his leave, and looking on you, as he believed, for the last
time, it was a moving sight to see that strong man weep."




THE SCHOOLMASTER.                 221
The patient now, at the suggestion of his careful nurse,
refrained from further conversation, took some nourishment,
and soon fell again into gentle slumber, firom which, at the
end of an hour or two, he awoke, much refreshed, and evidently less feeble than before.
" Mother," he said, after lying awhile in thoughtful silence,
"mother, who was that lady that left the room just before
you entered, the first time I awoke to know you?"
"' Why, it was Miss Maverick," replied the other, hesitatingly, as she cast a surprised and rather searching look at
the countenance of her son. "She has been here almost
every day since I came; and so, indeed, has her father, who
expresses -"' "Her father?" interrupted Locke; "0 - why, I now
recollect. Then that was in truth her father, whom all supposed dead?  He arrived the evening before the fire, I
presume?"
"No: he arrived in the belated stage, I understood, about
the time the alarm was given, and, hurrying to the spot,
rushed into the building, where he heard, as he drew near,
his daughter was left to perish. The rest you remember, I
suppose."
" I do now; but where has the Colonel been, these many
years, that nothing should have been heard from him?"
"In  Brazil, South America, I think  Mary told me,
where the country was in such commotion that his letters
miscarried. He was at first made a prisoner, and carried
into the country, when, effecting his escape, he was drawn
into the wars, became an officer, and acquired wealth from
his pay, and the services he rendered some rich Spanish
families, in saving their lives and estates.  lIe came away,
he says, as soon as he could turn his property, and get out of
the country with his money, which he has brought home
with him, to a large amount, it is generally thought. And it
19*




222              iL OCKE  AMSDrEN, OR
certainly seems like it; for he immediately bought back, of
the agent of his old creditors, the beautiful house and farm
he formerly owned, and has already moved into it. He has
also very generously bought another comfortable house for
the Carter family."
" Indeed! but why should he do that, mother?  Mr. Carter, notwithstanding the loss of his house and furniture, must
have been abundantly able to purchase another, himself."
": Why, did n't you know - but of course you could notthat Carter had failed? "
" You surprise me, mother."
"Yes, he has totally failed. And it is now said he has
been a bankrupt for some time, though most people supposed
there was scarcely an end to his wealth. His losses by the
fire in some way brought his true situation to light. His
creditors - and it was found that, besides his immense city
debts, he owed almost every body here - his creditors struck
on him a few days after, stripping him of every thing that the
fire had left; and he is now a poor man, owing thousands, it
is said, which he can never pay, and still having the same
unprofitable and helpless family on his hands, whose extravagant habits have been the chief means of his ruin. Every
body pities him, but nobody his wife and daughters."
"' What a striking concurrence of events has been here!"
observed Locke, thoughtfully; 6" and what a strange reversal
of fortunes has a few days brought about between the dependent, and I fear misused, Mary Maverick, and the vain
and haughty Carters! Well, Mary, I suppose, is considered
a wealthy heiress now," he added, with a sigh.
"She may be, and justly, too, I presume," rejoined the
mother, seeming instinctively to comprehend what was passing
in her son's mind;'" she may be thought so, and really be
so; but let me tell you, that, although the Carters are humbled, she is not exalted.  0 Locke!" she continued, with




Tllt   SCHIOOL-MASTER.           223
earnestness and rising emilotion, " I cannot express how much
I think of that good, good girl! But I am wrong to lead
you to such agitating subjects," she added, suddenly checking
herself, as she glanced at the other, and saw him grasping
for a handkerchief to conceal his starting tears. "We will
converse no more now; and in a few days you will be out, I
hope, to see and judge about all these things for yourself."
Amsden possessed a sound and vigorous constitution; and
so rapid was his recovery, that, in one week from the time at
which the delirium left him, he was able to leave the house.
During the whole period of his convalescence, he had seen
nothing of Colonel Maverick or his daughter; the former
having recently become too much indisposed to appear abroad,
and the latter making that circumstance an excuse for the sudden discontinuance of those calls which were so frequently
repeated so long as her friend was considered in danger.
These facts Amsden learned from Dr. Lincoln, who, gracefully sinking the physician into the companionable friend,
still continued his daily visits. And the former was the
more concerned at the information thus obtained, as the doctor began to express some apprehensions, that the colonel's
indisposition, though appearing like an ordinary cold merely,
was the effect of a permanent injury to his lungs, which he
might have received from the smoke and heat encountered
at the fire, and which, though but slightly developing itself
at first, might yet assume a serious aspect. But although
Colonel Maverick for the reasons just named, and his daughter for those she had assigned, or others which we will not
be very particular in scrutinizing, had not called on the recovering invalid, yet they took means to apprise him that
he was not forgotten. A freshly-installed domestic of the
new family establishment now regularly made his appearance
every morning to inquire after Mr. Amsden's health. And,
before the latter was permitted to leave his room, he received




224              LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
a note from the colonel himself, insisting on a visit as soon as
his health would possibly allow. There was a roguish postscript to the note, in another hand, which made it none the
less welcome to the receiver.
The season of the violet and the opening leaf had come;
and the spring-tide of returning health, as if responsive to
the action of reviving nature, now everywhere bursting into
young life around, began to mount, and course with quickened
impulse in the veins of him who was so lately the pale and
helpless victim of disease, bringing with it that peculiar
buoyancy of spirits, that sort of spontaneous joyousness of
animal sensation, which is experienced only by those recovering from long and wasting sickness.
And throwing aside the loathed habiliments of the sick
chamber, and spurning the further restrictions of prescribed
diet, and confinement within, he now came forth from his
prison-house, rejoicing in the conscious glow of physical
regeneration, and seemingly sucking in happiness at every
grateful inhalation of the open air. Finding himself daily
revived and strengthened, instead of harmed, by the exercise
of his new-found privilege of wandering abroad, he set out,
on the first pleasant afternoon that occurred after his release,
for the charmed residence of the two beings who not only
for years before had occupied the conspicuous place in his
mind, but who now seemed the centering points to which his
every thought and inclination irresistibly tended.
On arriving at the gate, he could not but pause a moment,
to admire the neat and effective arrangement of the surrounding grounds, the ornamental trees, and every thing
connected with this beautiful establishment, all of which
seemed to have remained in the form originally laid out by
the tasteful owner. He then glanced within the enclosure,
in the thickly budding shrubbery of which the not large, but
elegantly constructed mansion was nearly embowered; when




THE  SC''OOLIMASTERo             225
he caught a glimpse of a female figure, which a second
glance told him was Mary, unobservantly bending, with busy
and fostering hand, over her geraniums and violets,
"' Herself the sweetest, fairest flower of all."
With a beating heart and tremulous hand, he opened the
gate and entered. The next instant she came bounding to his
side with the graceful lightness of the young fawn; and, with
an extended hand, and a countenance all eloquent with
blending smiles and blushes, exclaimed,
"0  Mr. Amsden, Mr. Amsden! how happy am I to see
you looking so well - and how gratified to see you here
here, where I can welcome you to a house of my own, - or
rather, and what is better, to the house of a father, -who
will be no less pleased to see you than myself. Come, come,
let me lead you to his room."
The joyous girl immediately ushered her friend and late
deliverer into the house and apartment where her father
was setting. As they entered, Colonel Maverick, who was
reclining on a sofa with a newspaper in his hand, instantly
rose, and greeted Amsden with a warmth and cordiality
which abundantly made good the assurance that his daughter
had just uttered. The colonel, though thin and sallow, from
the effects of his long residence in a tropical climate, and
though troubled with a bad cough, to remove which, he was
now confining himself within, under a course of medical
treatment, appeared so much better than his visiter expected,
that the latter soon forgot the apprehensions which Dr. Lincoln had excited, relative to the situation of the former, and
gave himself up to the delights of a conversation which now
ensued among the happy group, and to which the pleasant
remembrances of the past, the grateful and gratified feelings
of the present, and the congenial tastes of the parties, all
combined to impart a reciprocal interest. To Amsden, inm




226               LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
deed, that afternoon was one of those halcyon spots of moral
sunshine to the heart, which, in this world of care and cloud,
occur but once or twice in the course of our lives, when the
soul, unconscious of a single ungratified wish, neither turns
to the past nor reaches forward to the future, but is fully
content with the happiness of the present. And when, with
a feeling of surprise, he perceived the unwelcome shadows
of evening stealing over the landscape, and warning him
that the time at which he had proposed to return had arrived,
he wondered how the winged hours could have flown so
quickly.
Now, reluctantly rising with the intention of bidding his
kind entertainers adieu, he proceeded to announce to them,
with an effort at calmness which he was far from feeling, his
previously formed determination of leaving town the next
morning, on his long-delayed return to his college studies,
upon the last term of which his class had, many weeks before, entered.  Colonel Maverick, though silent at first,
seemed evidently disappointed; and the countenance of his
daughter instantly fell at the unexpected announcement.
" Is such indeed your purpose, WMr. Amsden?" asked the
colonel, seriously.
"It is, sir," answered the other.
" But why this haste in leaving us? " resumed the former.
"Your health, which needs more firmness, will be gaining in
the delay; and a few days can certainly make no essential
difference with either your studies or your interests at
college."
"If those few," replied Amsden, 1" were not to be added to
the many already lost, it might vary the case. As it is,
however pleasant to me would be a further stay in town, I
think I can tarry no longer."
"I confess I can hardly reconcile myself to this," observed
the colonel thoughtfully.  "G I had counted on a week's inter




THE SCHOOLMAS'TER.               227
course with you, at least. I have much to say to you on
subjects connected with recent events, which, though it may
appear strange, I feel hardly prepared to say now. But you
will hear from me again. And, if you must go," he continued, advancing and offering his hand in a kind, feeling
manner, "I will bid you, with many good wishes for your
welfare, a good-bye for the present, but for the present only.
I must insist on your visiting us again, as soon as your term
of study is closed, and before you make any arrangement for
the future."
Reciprocating the kind wishes of his almost revered friend,
and bidding him, as he supposed, an adieu, at least for
months, Amsden left the room for another parting, in which
he felt far less prepared to act his part; for Mary, who had
not uttered a word during the foregoing dialogue, now attended him, in silent agitation, to the door.
M' iss Maverick " he said, with an effort, as he paused
at the threshold, and took her trembling, but frankly-offered
hand.
She raised her eyes inquiringly to his, but read there that
which caused her to drop them again instantly to the floor.
"Miss IMaverick! " he repeated, after a hesitating pause,
" your circumstances in life, since our last parting, have become much changed."
" They have, Mr. Amnsden," she replied, "and I feel very
grateful for the unexpected blessing-but," she continued,
with a half-blushful, half-challenging smile, " it do n't follow
that I should be changed also."
Another pause of delicate embarrassment succeeded.
" {Mary! " once more began Amsden; but as he glanced
in thought at his own situation in life, and her altered condition, he could not go on.
"I know what you would say," said she, looking up in
Mweet confusion; "but come, say it before my father, my




228              LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
confidant, my adviser. You have as little to fear from him
as from me - come, come!"  And she drew him, hesitating
and irresolute, back towards the room they had just left; and
the next moment they stood before Colonel Maverick, who,
though evidently surprised, yet welcomed their return with
an affectionate smile.
"I have returned, sir," said Amsden, diffidently, but with
manly firmness, " I have returned, at the suggestion of your
daughter, to say before you what I was about to say to her."
" I am much gratified at your course, my daughter," interposed the colonel; "but proceed," he continued, turning
encouragingly to the embarrassed lover; "'proceed, Mr.
Amsden."
" To say, sir," resumed the former, " that, however strong
have been the feelings and hopes I have secretly cherished
towards her, I will not presume, in the new and high position which she "" Stop, stop! Mr. Amsden," interrupted the father; " you
do inj/ustice both to us and yourself. We both feel, independent of the high estimation in which we hold you, we both
deeply feel how much we have recently become indebted to
you for those exertions which cost you so dear. And if this,"
he continued, advancing, and with much emotion placing the
readily-yielded hand of his daughter into that of her almost
overpowered lover, "if this is to you the most desirable
boon, then be it your reward. The gift, for me, is indeed a
great one; but who, by noble exertions, can ever better earn
it, and who, by intrinsic worth, more richly deserves it?
And now, Heaven bless you, my children!"
A few more words, and the task of the narrator is ended.
With a heart made light and joyous by the prospects which
had so unexpectedly and so brightly broken on the path
before him, Amsden returned to college. The few weeks
now remaining to bring him to the close of his collegiate




THE SCHOOLMASTER.                229
career. rolled rapidly away; when, with the highest honors
of the institution, and the distinguished esteem of his fellows, he left this spot of hallowed associations, and flew
back, as if on the fleet wings of love, to the scene where his
affections had learned to cluster; and where the wedded
felicity, that now speedily succeeded to the happy and deserving pair, who became its mutually blest recipients, was only
clouded by the event which had hastened their union, - that
of the still gradually failing health of the accomplished and
high-minded Colonel Maverick, whom his sorrowing children
were, in a few months, called on to bear to the silent tomb;
a bereavement for which they felt themselves but poorly
compensated by the ample fortune he left them, not only to
ensure the means of their own comfort and happiness, as far
as such means have effect, but to enable them to become, as
they soon did, the dispensers of comfort and happiness to
others individually, and of general usefulness to the society
at large, of which, ere long, they were the acknowledged
ornaments.
Pass with us, now, gentle reader, over a short period of
time, and we will bring to your view a brief picture of results, which involve at once both the conclusion and moral
of our tale, or, at least, so much of the latter as you may not
have gathered by the way-side, as, not unpleasantly, we
humbly hope, we have journeyed on together. A dozen
years have not elapsed since the events whose attempted delineation have occupied us through the latter portion of our
unworthy performance; and yet Cartersville, the scene of
their occurrence, is almost entirely a different place, in all
that should give character to a village community. The old
school-house, before described as constructed after the miserable fashion of the times, and situated on a busy streets
0




230              LOCKE AMSDEN, OR
amidst a clump of noisy shops, has been pulled down; and, to
supply its place, a neat little edifice, of interior construction,
as regards space, seats, means of heating, and ventilation,
calculated alike for the convenience, comfort, and health of
the pupil and teacher, is seen standing on a retired slope,
surrounded by shade-trees, fancifully grouped over a spacious
enclosure. This commodious and attractive establishment
was built and given to the district by the wealthy and liberal
Mr. Locke Amsden, now a member of Congress for that part
of the country. That gentleman and his amiable lady having, inll conjunction with their friend Dr. Lincoln, early been
the means of introducing adequate teachers at an adequate
compensation, have made it their rule to visit the school as
often, at least, as once every month, through the whole of its
continuance. Captain Bunker -who, as we must pause to
inform the reader, has been induced to give up his farm in
the "f Horn-of-the-Mbon " to his two eldest boys, and, with his
surplus capital, purchase, and settle down on a small farm,
adjoining that of his friend Amsden; through whose influence, with the aiding effect of a scurrilous attack upon him,
that, on his being announced as a candidate, appeared in' The Blazing Star," which, with this effort to extend its
political supervision over the affairs of Cartersville, soon
expired, he has been advanced to a seat in the State Legislature, where he has become the champion of the farming
interests - Captain Bunker, we say, has also lent efficient
aid to the common school, having become a convert to the
principle of high wages for teachers, since, as he says, he is
now satisfied that nobody who is a sufficiently "good thinker"
to be a good teacher, can be got at the old rate of wages.
Incited to emulation by the example of the now most wealthy
and influential family in town, the people of most of the neighboring districts in the village and country around it have built
new school-houses, and supplied them with good teachers;




THE SCHOOLMASTE.                  2381
while school visiting has become as fashionable as it was formerly the reverse; and whenever a select party is got up, the
master is now not the last to be invited. An entire revolution, indeed, seems to have taken place in the public mind on
these subjects. Ornamental education is now here never
thought of, till the solid and useful sciences are first secured.
The demand for piano fortes, water-color paint-boxes, drawing-paper, &c., is at a low ebb, while that of the standard
works of science and literature is daily increasing. Professors of Elegant Literature now find poor picking in Cartersville; and the race of fashionable fine ladies, who were once
their patrons, are lamentably in the back-ground. Fops,
formerly the leaders of society, are as scarce as owls in the
sunlight, the two last that remained of the tribe having gone
off some years before with the two younger Misses Carter;
who, finding themselves no longer appreciated, concluded to
emigrate, with the best offers they could obtain, to some more
congenial residence. Nor are the more general results flowing from these circumstances less observable. The village,
instead of a trifling, has become a reading and a thinking
community; doing every thing for the encouragement of
popular education at home, and now yearly sending off, to
the academies and colleges abroad, some half-dozen scholars,
where one, and oftener none, were sent before. The proportion of vice and crime has already very sensibly decreased;
while that of industry, general competence, and rational happiness, has still more sensibly increased. In short, the whole
tone of society has changed; and that change, kind reader,
great and beneficial as it is, has been effected by the nobly
begun, and, subsequently, the no less nobly sustained efforts
ef THE CoMMON  SCHOOLMASTER.








A LIST OF BOOKS
PUBLISHED BY
BENJAMIN B. MUSSEY AND COMPANY,
10. 29, CORNHILL, AND 36, BRATTLE STRCET, BOSTON.
MUSIC BOOKS.
THE MODERN HARP,
Or, BOSTON  SACRED  MELODIST.-A  Collection  of
Church Music, comprising, in addition to many of the most Popular
Tunes in common use, a great variety of new and original Tunes,
Sentences, Chants, Motets, and Anthems, adapted to Social and
Religious Worship, Societies, Singing Schools, &c. By EDWARD
L. WHITE and JOHN E. GOULD.
This Book, in the short space of twelve months, has passed through
no less than sixteen editions, and is now used in all the best Choirs and
Societies in New England, and is universally considered as one of the
best books of Church Music now in use., So far as we have been able to examine this work, we should judge
it to be superior to any modern work that we -have seen." -Skowheggan
Dmocsat.
"In bringing this work before the public, no time or pains have been
spared to render it not only a popular, but a useful Collection. More
than the usual number of new Tunes occupy a space in it. and most of
this new Music is of a high character, and possesses the true attributes
of Church Music. There is also to be found an unusual number of
Sentences, Select Pieces, Chants, &c., suitable for the opening and closing
of divine worship, among which the entire service of the Protestant
Episcopal Church is given in the order of performance.
"The whole Collection is judiciously arranged, and will undoubtedly
ake a rank second to none of the numerous publications of Churcg
Musie now in use" - Atla.




"This Book is composed mostly of Music new to tie American pubhh
Pand embraces every variety of metre now in use, with numerous Sen.
tnces, Chants, Motets, and Anthems, suited to particular occasions." -
Salem Observer
[Extract of a Letter from Rev. M. K. Cross, of Palmer, AMass.]
"I am free to acknowledge that I have been very highly gratified with
the musical taste and talent exhibited by the authors. It seems to me
that a larger proportion than is usual in books of,his kind, will be found
suitable and edifying for common choirs and congregations. The selection of words, set to the Music, is very chaste, and well adapted to devotional purposes; which gives an additional interest to the work. I am
happy to learn that it is soon to be introduced in our own congregation'
M. K. CROSS
THE OPERA CHlORUS BOOK,
Consisting of Trios, Quartets, Quintets, Solos, and Choruses,
selected and arranged from the most popular Operas of Von Weber,
Rossini, Meyerbeer, Bellini, Benedict, Donizetti, Mercadante,
Auber, Balfe, Verdi, and Bishop. By EDWARD L. WHITE and
JouN lE. GOULD.
[ We select the following from numerous Notices of tis Work
"SALEM, NOVEMBER 1ST, 1847.
"' MR. B. B. MussEY - DEAR SIR-I have examined the new publication which has lately come from your press, called the' OPERA CRORUIs
BooK,' and do not hesitate to commend its design and execution. The
Selections are well made and well arranged, and are, almost all of them,
gems of high musical value. The field from which they were gathered,
has not, until now, been explored.  It is rich in fruits, and it is to be
hoped, that such success may attend this first gathering, as to induce the
reapers again to try the sickle."
Your friend and servant,   H. K. OLIVER.
"On every page there is evidence of much patience, care, and industry,
on the part of the Editors, and we question if among all the volumes
of Secular Music that have been published in this country, there will be
found one that has more real claims to the admiration of the musical
public than this. The Work abounds in those delicious gems of the
Opera, any one of which is beautiful enough to tempt our readers to
the purchase of the whole collection." —Boston Daily Wlig.
[From Thomas Power, Esq.]
" BOSTON, DEC. 29TH, 1847.
" GESTLEMENE,- Having examined, with some care, the'OPE:Ra
TCoRus BOOK,' of which you are the publishers, I cheerfully give you
my opinion of its partieular merits. As the study and practice af




Seeltlar Part Music has been pursued with increased zeal and succes,
within a few years, it has been a leading object to find accessible advanied w;-rks of a good character. The practice of thile old standard Glees,
however excellent, has lost its novelty, and some of its interest.  A
higher grade of conmp)ositions has been re(quired - and the graceful and
chariming choruses of the modern Opera have given an increasing uesire
for that class of compositions.
"In selecting  from the standard works of the day, a knowledige of
the requirements of performers, and a good judgment as to what shall
meet these requirements, were imperative. The collection of the OrPEa
CHoRus BOOK has been made with good discretion, combining what is
in advance of the current standard, and, at the same time, affbrding t
social parties, for which it seems to be pariicularly prepared, the easy
mcans of studying gems of some of the best masters.
"Whatever motive of ambition or interest suggested the idea of this
Collection, the Book is exactly what is wanted at this time; and it will
be taken as a favor to the musical public, inasmuch as it cannot fail to
be a great acquisition for practice, and a mteans of creating a better
taste. A book got at with such good properties, cannot fail to be well
received."               Respectfully yours,
THOMAS POWVER
THE TYROLIEN LYRE,
A Glee Book, consisting of easy pieces, arranged mostly fbi
Soprano Alto, Tenor, and Bass Voices, with and without Piano
Forte A companiments, comprising a complete collection of Solos,
Duets, Trios, Quartets, Quintets, Choruses, &c., for the use of
Societies, Schools, Clubs, Choirs, and the Social Circle. By
EDWARD L. WHITE and JOH-N E. GOULD.
The sale which this Work has already met, is evidence that its merits
are well known to the public; but we extract the following from " The
}11orld of Music:" -'It contains many subjects from different popular
Operas, very beautifully elaborated, among which we recognize many
genms of melody fiom  Rossinr, Auber, Bellini, Balfe, &c. Also some
sterling Glee compositions from Bishop, Spofforth, Danby, &c., and a
large number of those Tyrolien melodies which Malibran and the'Rainer
Family' used to electrify their hearers. The Work will not only be a
pleasant social companion, but will be found extremely useful for Chuirs,
Schools, &c."
"It is a large and well executed volume of two hundred and thirty
pages, containing easy pieces, arranged mostly for Soprano, Alto, Tenor,
and Bass Voices, with and without Piano-Forte Accompaniments,
comprising a complete Collection of Solos, Duets, Trios, Quartets,
Quintets, Choruses, &c. The names of EDWARD L. WHITE and Joun
E. GOULD, by whom the Music is composed, selected, and arranged
is a sufficient recommendation of its excellence." - Olive Branch.




THE BOSTON MELODEON, VOL. I.
A Collection of Secular Melodies, consisting of Songs, Gle.,
Rounds, Catches, &c., including many of the most popular Pieces
of the day; arranged and harmonized for Four Voices. ByED.
WAND L. WHITE.
THE BOSTON MELODEON, VOL. II.
A Collection of Secular Melodies, consisting of Songs, Glee,
Rounds, Catches, &c., including many of the most popular pieces
of the day, arranged and harmonized for four voices, vol. 2, by E
L. WVHIT.
The above Books have been before the public some two years, during
which time, more than 23,000 of them have been sold, and their reputation is too well known to require any commendation.
THE WREATH OF SCHOOL SONGS,
Consisting of Songs, Hymns, and Chants, with appropriate Music,
designed for the use of Common Schools, Seminaries, &c. To which
wre added the Elements of Vocal Music, arranged according to
the Pestalozzian System of Instruction; with numerous Exercises,.ntcnded to supersede (in part) the necessity of the Black-board.
By EDWARD L. WHITE and JOHN E. GOULD.
"This Work is just the thing for Schools, Juvenile Concerts, &c.;
consisting of Songs, Hymns, and Chants, with appropriate Music, de.
signed for the use of Common Schools, Seminaries, &c., to which is
prefixed the elements of Vocal Music. In many of the Public Schools
out of the city, as well as in, Music has recently constituted a part of
the studies of the pupils. This we are glad to see, as many advantages
may be derived from such a course. And the experiments, as yet, have
proved quite satisfactory. For such purposes, we have seen no better
work than the' WREATH OF SCHOOL SONGs.' "- Olive Branch.
"WREATH OF SCHOOL SohNs."-" The above is the title of a
r1ew Music Book, just from the press, and is peculiarly calculated to
Interest the young singer and make him acquainted with the Elements
of Music." —Eastern 2Mail.
" It is a charming little volume, and we recommend it to all who have
bamilies." - Sgna




BAKER'S ELEMENTARY MUSIC BOOK,
Comprising a variety of Songs, Hymns, Chants, &c. Designed
for the use of Public and Private Schools.  By BENJAMIN  F.
BAKER.
" This little Work is designed for Children, as its title indicates. M.E
BAKERr is an accomplished and successful Teacher of Music in our
Public Schools; and his experience in teaching Children to sing, has
enabled him to prepare a work adapted to their wants.  The introduc.
tory part is simple and comprehensive; and, in the hands of a good
teacher, cannot fail to lead the learner to a thorough knowledge of the
science of Music. The Songs are for the most part lively and interesting,
containing just and moral sentiments; and the Music is admirably
adapted to them. We commend it to the attention of all those interested
in school education." - Atlas.'" The Book is prepared with knowledge and judgment, and is admirably adapted to the purposes for which it is designed; and our Committee, wisely regarding the interest of our Children, have authorized
its use in those Schools of which MR. BAKsER has the care." -Mercantile
Journal.
"We have examined this Work, and do not hesitate to recommend it
to all who are desirous of obtaining a useful book. The Elements of
Music are arranged in the most natural and convenient order for the
use of Singing Schools and Private Classes. After a few Introductory
Remarks, the Scale is introduced to the learner, and explained in the
author's peculiarly plain and happy style. Next in order is the Staff,
Clefs, Notes, Rests, &c. The whole Work is regularly laid out in the
most comprehensive form, illustrated with appropriate Remarks and
Examples. The Examples on the transposition of the scale, are the
most plain and the easiest for the pupil to understand of any we have
ever seen.  The Book also contains about one hundred and twenty
pages of Music,'designed for the use of Public and Private Schools.'
Teachers of Music will find this a very useful text-book, as it will enable
them to go through with the Elementary department of instruction in
one half of the time which it usually requires." - World of MIusic.
THE SABBATH SCHOOL LUTE;
A Selection of Hymns and appropriate Melodies, adapted to the
wants of Sabbath Schools and Social Meetings. By E. L. WHITE
"nd J. E. GOULD, authors of the "Modern Harp," "Tyrolien
Lyre," "Wreath of School Songs," "Opera  Chorus Book,
&oe, &e




SCHOOL BOOKS.
itcllecock's Bookkeeping. -A New Method of teaching
the Art of Bookkeeping, by J. IRVIN I-ITCHCOCK.
31Iitcemcock's K;ey. —A  Key to Hitchcock's Method of Book
keeping.
lFrenclt Spoke&in. -A New System of Teaching French, by
EDWARD CHURCH.
Cutterss Physiology. - Anatomy and Physiology, designed for
Academies and Families, by CALVIN CUTTER, M.D., with over 206
Engravings.
Cnlt-teir's Fi'rst Book. - First Book on Anatomy and Physiology,
by CALVIN CUTTER, M.D., with 84 Engravings.
Colbitan's Seqvael. - Arithmetic, upon the inductive method of
Instruction, being a Sequel to Intellectual Arithmetic, by WARREN COL,.
BURN, A.M.
BioyeaI's Freznel DKictioEnaty. - Boyer's French Dictionary,
comprising all the Improvements of the latest Paris and London editions,
with a large number of useful Words and Phrases, selected fiom the
modern dictionaries of Baiste, Mailly, Catineau, and others, with the pronunciation of each word, according to the dictionary of the Abbe TM dy:
to which are prefixed Rules for the Pronunciation of French Vowels,
Diphthongs, and final Consonants, with a table of French Verbs, &c.
S$erwin's Algebra. — An Elementary Treatise on Algebra,
for the use of Students in High Schools and Colleges, by TuoxAs
SHERw IN, A.M.
S  esr in'ls HKey. -A Key to the Elementary Treatise on Algebra, by THOMAS SHERWIN, A.M.
W~orcester's Dictiona-ry, in 1 vol. 8vo.
Websteirr's Dictionalry, complete, unabridged, crown quarto
F. A. Adams's Aritln metic and Key.
PRONOUNCING BIBLE.
Just Published, a new edition of Alger's Pronouncing Bibleo, in
I vol. octavo.
" This is an invaluable edition cf the Bible, and should be in ev7M
&miily where there are children."




7
CLASSICAL BOOKS.
Crosby's Greek  Grammar. - A  Grammar of the Greek
Language, by ALPHEUS CRosBY, Professor of the Greek Language and
Literature, in Dartmouth College.
Crosby's Greek Tables.
Crosby's Xenophotn's Anabasis.
Pickering's Greek Lexicon. -This is the best Greek Lex
on in use.
Leverett's Latin Lexicon,  1 vol. 8vo.
Gould's OvidL - Excerpta exscriptis Publii Ovidii Nasonis, accedunt Notulas Anglicm et Qusestiones, in usum Scholhe Bostoniensis. Cua
B. A. GoULD, A.M.
Gosild's Hiorace. - Quintii Horatii Flacci Opera, accedant
Clavis, Metriha, et Notm Anglice Juventati Accommodatne.  Cura B. A
GOULD, A.M,
Goalfis Virgil. - Publius Virgilius Maro's Bucolica, Georgica
et -XAneis, accedunt Clavis, Metrica, Notula Anglicem, et Quoestiones.
Cura B. A. GOULD.
Xsenophon's Anabasis. - Xenophon's expedition of Cyrus,
with English notes, prepared for the use of Schools and Colleges, with a
Life of the Author, by CHARLEs DEXTER CLEVELAND.
Greek Delectus. - Delectus Sententiarum Graecarum ad usam
tironum accommodatus; cum Notulis et Lexico.
MISCELLANEOUS BOOKS.
Encyclopedia Americana. - A popular Dictionary of Arts,
Sciences, Literature, History, Politics, and Biography, a new edition.
including a copious collection of original Articles in American Biography; edited by FRANCIS LIEBER, assisted by E. WIGGLEswoRTH
14 vols., library style.
A General Biographical Dictionary, comprising a sammary account of the most Distinguished Persons of all Ages, Nations,
and Professions, including more than One Thousand articles of American
Biography, by the Rev. J. L. BLAKE, D.D., author of the Family Encv.
clopedia of Useful Knowledge, and various other works on Education
and General Literature. Eighth edition, revised.
Tappaan's  Poems. — Sacred  and Miscellaneous Poems, by
W. B. TAPPAN.
The Green  Mountafin  Boys.- By the author 3f Lock
Amsden, or the School Master; May Martin, &c. Revised edition.'This is one of the  o, bst stirring Tales of the day."