(1864) Walter Martin: Or the Factory, the School and the Camp

8/9/2019 (1864) Walter Martin: Or the Factory, the School and the Camp

1/194


2/194

THE UNIVERSITY OFNORTH CAROLINALIBRARY

THE WILMER COLLECTIONOF CIVIL WAR NOVELS

PRESENTED BYRICHARD H. WILMER, JR.


3/194

Ktu.


4/194


5/194

U/y./^^^/r^/f-^r^


6/194


7/194


8/194

-Tr^J^i^

''-'. r^


9/194

WALTER MAETINOR

Sh^ inttmjf t\t^ 3tU^h M& tto d^^mp.

PUBLISHED BY THEAMEEICAN TKACT SOCIETY,150 NASSAU-STKEET, NEW YORK.


10/194

ExTEEED according to Act of Congress, in the year 18G4, by theAmerican Tract Society, in tlie Clerk's Office of the District Courtof the United States for the Southern District of New York.


11/194

This narrative, truthM in its facts andsimple in its style, is given to the boysand girls of our country by one who wellknows the persons described, and whohopes their history may be an induce-ment to others to seek early the paths ofpeace and true wisdom.

531940


12/194


13/194

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.The Wrestling ---- 7

CHAPTEE n.Studying and Improving - -- 22CHAPTER m.

The Moral Family 38

CHAPTER IV.The Conversion - 52CHAPTER V.

The Last Farewell 67

CHAPTER YI.From the Mill to the School 77

CHAPTER Vn.The Chastening-- 93

CHAPTER Yin.Progress - 106

CHAPTER IX.The Enlistment 122


14/194

6 CONTENTS.CHAPTER X.

The Camp 137CHAPTER XI.

The Mission 155CHAPTER Xn.

Walter's Conclusion - 172


15/194

WALTER MARTIN.CHAPTER ITHE WKESTLING.

Down tlie great stairs they went;down, down, one flight, two flights, threemen and women, boys and girls, with afew elderly faces mingled in the" motleycrowd ; but the great throng principallycomposed of youthful forms. These wenttripping along with buoyant steps, not-withstanding the labor they had beenperforming; for youth is elastic, and asthey stepped out into the open air, andthe fresh breeze fanned their cheeks,they laughed as gayly as though theirwork had been pastime instead of toil.


16/194

8 WALTEE MAETIN.The bell of the large manufactory told

them it was the hour for dinner, and herethey were, the operatives of the Moni-mock Mills, where great webs of cottonsheetings were each day prepared for themarket of the world. Two or three hun-dred women filed along, generally withthe sweet freshness of youth shining outunder their simple cape-bonnets or dilap-idated straws, with shawls of every con-ceivable texture and^hue, and dresses ofchintz or delaine, soiled or clean, tatteredor whole, according to the characteristicsof the wearers. Men were there too, ingreasy overalls, with slouched caps; orneat and tidy, because the unsightlyoverdress had been left hanging in themill, while they went home in a cleansuit with a manly air.How refreshing was the pure air.How glad was each one to escape thenoisy workhouse. And yet, labor there


17/194

THE WBESTLING. 9was more agreeable than in some situa-tions. Many a merry laugh echoed withinthose walls ; many a lifetime friendshipwas formed and cemented there.

But if a few characters of noble mouldwere there, it must be acknowledged thatthe main current of thought was low.The coarse jest, the rough words, and theworthless song all furnished proof of theuneducated and unsanctified state of thehearts within. To a person who reflectedthat each soul here was destined to livefor ever, when earth and its transientpleasures have passed away, it was pain-ful to witness the great want of seriousthought, or of desire to prepare for thelast great change.

There was one wish common to all whotoiled here, and that was, to receive thewages of their labor, the money due forcontinued diligence. For this they allwrought, the young and the old ; for this


18/194

10 WALTEE MAETIX.they spent their breath, and shut them-selves up with the scent of the oil andthe click of flying wheels.Xot that all used their money with

discretion, for some wasted it as snowwastes before a noonday sun ; but allwanted it. For it children were i^lacedhere; chi]dren who ought to haye beenin school were obliged to work their dailyround, compelled by avaricious fathers orpoverty-bound mothers, or because theywere orphans, and must earn their ownliving in the world.Down they come now, a band by

themselves, shouting, tumbling, trippingand jostling each other about with thewildness and abandon of the untrainedspirits of headstrong boys who had beencurbed for five hours, and now wereliberated for a brief season of freedom.Like young colts loosened from the stall,and permitted to caper and frisk in the


19/194

THE WRESTLING. 11green fields, these boys caiight the fresh-ness of the open air, and indulged theimpulsiveness of their untamed natures.

"I say, Jim, come on," shouted TomHardy; "let's have a rouser. Comeout here, and pitch into me, if you wantto. I '11 show you how quick I '11 layyou flat."

''That's right; go it, boys," said NedManson; ''any thing for fun. Stand backhere, boys ; give 'em fai play. Now takehim, Jim. You can beat him any time,"

"Beat me!" said Tom, drawing him-self up to his utmost height; "I shouldlike to see the boy that can do that."

"Hurrah then; I'm the one," saidJim, laying his hand upon the shoulderof Tom. Quick as thought they grasp-ed each other, and began manoeuvringwith efforts to put each other on theground; while the other boys groupedaround, cheering and shouting as the


20/194

12 WALTEE MAKTIN.game went on. For the moment, dinnerwas forgotten.James Clark, or ''Jim," as he wascalled, was a delicate, slender boy, theson of a pious father, and it seemed apity that so good a man should exposehis son to such influences for the sake ofgain. Better remain at home, even withprivations, than risk the temptations ofdangerous associations.Tom Hardy ^as strong and burly;and if he lacked the agility of Jim, hecompensated for it by sturdy strengthand firmness of compact limb. He hada fancy for trials of strength, and alwaysrejoiced when his rough challenges wereaccepted. Jim, Avith his sanguine tem-perament, agility, and suppleness, wasnot willing to yield the palm, and so thepresent contest became warmer than theyintended.

" Hurrah !'" cried Ned Manson, as one


21/194


22/194


23/194

THE WEESTLING. 13or tlie other seemed likely to fall; "betyou a treat Jim will beat him.''"Nonsense," cried another, " Jim a'n'thalf so stout as Tom. I '11 take your bet.Tom ']1 beat."

Thus the youthful contestants and theyouthful spectators were already sharingthose high excitements which, followedinto manhood, lead to the race, to cards,to high betting, and then to the treat, theflushed cheek, and the unsteady hand.At this moment another boy came

down the stairs, and stepped quicklyupon the threshold of the open outerdoor. He was a thoughtful-looking youthof thirteen, with a keen black eye, and apleasant, but resolute countenance. Hepaused suddenly at the sight of the nowalmost angry wrestlers, and gazed uponthem with a look of surprise.

"Take care there," said Ned, whoseemed to be chief speaker; " take care,


24/194

14 WALTEK MAETIN.Jim ; keep cool, or Tom will have you.See, Walter," turning to tlie new-comer,''don't they handle each other well?''

But Walter did not reply. He stillstood on the threshold, with an expres-sion of mingled pity, contempt, and dis-gust.

Poor Jim was growing tired. He hadthrown his whole energies into the firstefforts, with a determination to breakdown the big, blustering Tom; but nowhe was exhausted, and Tom, taking asudden advantage, laid him flat upon hisback, and then gave a shout of triumph.The boys scattered at once ; there wasno more time to lose, and Tom, giving aglance of triumph at his fallen adversary,started upon a run like the others.

Walter Martin, however, remainedwatching the defeated Jim ; and seeingthat he needed help, went to him andhelping him to rise, brushed the dirt from


25/194

THE WRESTLING. 15liis clothes, smootlied Ms hair with hisown pocket-comb, and then walked byhis side."How came you in such a scrape?"

said Walter; "I shouldn't think youwould meddle with such a fellow as TomHardy."

''Well, he dared me," said Jim, ''andthe boys would all laugh if I backed out,and say I was a coward.""I should let them laugh then," saidWalter.

"I suppose you would," replied Jim;"you can do different from anybody else.""Why can I do different?"

"Oh, because you don't care if theboys do laugh at you."

"Yes, I do care," said Walter; "I donot like to be laughed at ; but if they tellme I am a coward because I will notfight, I think it requires more courage toresist the accusation and persevere in the


26/194

16 WALTER MAETIN.right than it does to fight, and so I thinkI have more true courage than they.'"'''Yes," said Jim, "I know you have.You never fear to face the boys at anytime, no matter what they are doing ; butI can't do as you can.""Why not?" said Walter.

''Why, the boys would laugh at me.""Yes, there is the trouble," said Wal-

ter. "You fear the laugh, and so youfight. Try now, and see if you cannotshow moral courage, the true couragethat faces evil and conquers it ; and if youcannot at first resist the boys, keep awayfrom them."

"But how can- I keep away fromthem.""Do as I do. Wait a little when the

bell rings, and don't get into the rush.Stay behind, take off your overalls, washyour face, comb your hair, and brushyour clothes, then you can go home look-


27/194

THE WRESTLING. 11ing like a gentleman. Then don't goback a minute too soon, so that the boyscan't have time to tempt you; and byand by you will like my way much bet-ter than your old way. Besides, whatwould your father* say if he saw youwhere I did?"By this time they had reached Jim's

door, and he went into the house, pon-dering Walter's last question, "Whatwould your father say?" His father didnot live in the village, but three milesout, on a small farm. He was a goodman, but as his farm furnished him littlemoney, he sent his son to the factory toearn more, not thinkihg that possiblythis might lead to vice and ruin. ButGod, who "seeth not as man seeth," hada watchful care over the son of the hon-est, praying parent.Jim ate his dinner silently, still con-

sidering Walter's advice and his last


28/194

18 ,VALTEK MAETIN.question. Then putting on his cap, hewaited at the door till he saw Waltercoming back, when with a bright smilehe ran out to meet him.

"Walter/*' said he, "may I go andcome with you, so that the boys need notlaugh at me?''

"Yes," said Walter, " I should be gladto have you."

"Thank you," replied Jim. "I havebeen thinking of the question you askedme, and I want to quit the company ofthose rude boys ; for I know my fatherwould feel bad if he thought I was doingwrong. I should not like to have himknow how I behaved this noon.''The bell had ceased its working call,

the men and boys were in their places,the long, steady mules were just recom-mencing their patient roll, back and forth,back and forth, bearing as they wenttheir long rows of spools, from which the


29/194

THE WliESTLIXG. 19fme cotton threads spun out their evenlength, twisting, whirling, buzzing, andsometimes snapping, requiring the agilemovements of nimble fingers to join themagain and keep the machine in runningorder.The overseer had just hung up his

coat and stepped out into the room asWalter and James entered, so the boyshad but little chance to begin any sportwith the discomfited wrestler. Theycould only wink, twist their faces intomeaning grimaces, cough with a peculiarsound, and extend such sly hints to himas they were sure he would understand.He went quietly to his work, taking nonotice of these manifestations, and theroom assumed its customary activities.The boys who assisted the spinners

were called "back boys,'' because it w^astheir duty to go back of the mules, andtaking away the spools which had been


30/194

20 WALTER MAETIX.emptied of the cotton roping, replacethem with full ones, from which to spinthe fine threads. They also assisted inkeeping the machinery clean, and weregeneral waiters for the men who employ-ed them, each man having a boy assign-ed him.

Sometimes the boys took a cloth, andwhile the heavy machine rolled its wayforward to the spools, they stooped to thefloor on the other side, and rubbing thecloth on the straight beam, slipped rap-idly through underneath the low rails,coming out safely on the other side beforethe machine rolled back, with a forcewhich would have crushed the lucklessone who had been caught lagging. Aspectator, unaccustomed to the sight,would have shuddered for the fate of theboy, who himself had no fear.Tom Hardy having a great desire to

know the mind of Jim, dusted his mule,


31/194

THE WEESTLING. 21filled his spools, and seeing that everything was right, took a trip across theroom, 'Ho see if Jim was sore," he said.

"I say," said he, coming up to him;"do you feel good after it? If you do n't,I '11 give you a little more to-night ; justfor fun, you know."

"Halloo, here," said Walter, who hadseen Tom's movement, and followed him;"do you see the old man there, Tom?"Tom looked around, and saw the manfor whom he worked, and whom he usual-ly designated as "the old man," in atowering passion. He was a man of animperious temper, and not pleased tohave his "back boy" running off withoutleave; so without stopping for morewords, Tom made haste back again to hiswork, receiving a kick for leaving, be-sides knowing that the boys were alllaughing at his discomfiture. There wasno more trouble for Jim that day.


32/194

22 WALTER MARTIN.

CHAPTER II.STUDYING AND IMPROVING.

Night came, suspending the day's la-bors, and again the bell jingled its wel-come summons ; welcome always when itwas a release from toil, but sometimesgreeted with a sigh when it called backthe half-rested ones to a renewal of theirduties.

"Wait a little, James," said Walter;"let the crowd go. I have somethinghere for you."

So James loitered behind, and then heand Walter preparing themselves tidily,followed the other operatives down thebroad stairs.

"I have a book here," said Walterwhen they were out in the street; "some-times I get a little time to read in the


33/194

STUDYING AND IMPEOVING. 23mill, and if you would like it you canliave it this evening. You may be lone-ly if you stay at home, and I hope youwill not go out. If the boys are to havea high time^ let them have it withoutyou."James accepted the book, gave therequisite promise, and Walter ran for hishome. It was always a j^leasure for himto get home. The sight of his dearmother's face, the evening reunion of thefamily circle, the well-spread board, thebooks, the papers, the few minutes' pri-vate consultation concerning the nextday's family arrangements, all these homescenes were dear to the loving boy.The youngest of a band of six brothers,

delicate, thoughtful, and domestic in hishabits, it was not strange that Walterwas the pet of his mother, and was re-garded generally as the household baby.Some of his older brothers worked in


34/194

24 WALTER MAETIN.otlier departments of tlie same mill ; andthough in their own private circle theysometimes jested the young boy tooroughly, they were very careful thatothers should not do so. -So his elderbrother Frank, finding that Walter mustgo into the mill, and that this was hisfather's firm decision, went to the over-seer and exerted his influence to procurehim a situation under an honest, soberman, who treated him always with con-sideration and kindness.

It was well for Walter that he wasthus protected. It is a wise saying, that"God tempers the wind to the shornlamb ;" and in this case the great Fatherwas not unmindful of the fragile lad, butthrew around him the arm of his protec-tion.Books were Walter's unceasing com-

panions. He carried them to the mill,he sat up late to read them, he walked


35/194

STUDYING AND IMPEOVING. 25the streets with them in his hands, andhe even carried them to the table withhim; though the laugh of his largerbrothers, and the name of "bookworm,''prevented tke repetition of the last actas often as he would have liked.He did not read trashy novels, but awell-selected assortment of histories andbiographies, even ascending the scale toa few scientific works and an occasionalpoem. Deprived of the benefits of school,and shut up to the routine of daily labor,he yet contrived to keep pace with thoseof more abundant privileges, and hiscountenance assumed the intelligent ex-pression of the young scholar, instead ofthe vacancy of the mere drudge.

"I never see that boy," said one gen-tleman to another as Walter passed themon his way to the mill, "but I thinkhe will not always plod in this factorypath."


36/194

26 WALTER MARTIN.''He is a fine-lookmg boy, certainly,"

replied the otlier."He is more tlian fine-lookingv' con-tinued the first speaker. ' ' His fine looksare the result of noble thoughts ; it is notmere jDhysical beauty he possesses. Stu-dious, truthful, diligent, respectful, hebids fair to become one of our best andtruest men.''

Thus the good conduct of boys is ob-served by men oftener than boys thinktheir characters, good or ill, becomestamped in the eyes of the world as wellas in their hearts and countenances. In-dolence and vice leave sure marks on thecountenance and demeanor, as well as in-telligence and virtue.

That factory bell, how punctually cameits notes through the still morning air,pealing on the ears of all who followedits behests. Some started slowly, andwith many groans and yawns, being jad-


37/194

STUDYING AND IMPEOVING. 27ed out witli late hours and dissipation,and not refreshed by slumber. It wasotherwise with Walter and his brothers."A person feels paid for early risingsuch a morning as this," said Walter, gaz-ing upon the gorgeous clouds of the east-ern sky. "Come, let us hurry, Nat, andtake a run down the bank before thesecond bell rings. We shall feel the bet-ter for it."

"Agreed," replied Nat, who was twoyears older than Walter ; and speedingdown the back stairs, they were goingout at the back door, when they met theirmother."Why, mother," said Walter, "I be-

lieve you are always up ; I can't get upfirst if I try.""Why shouldn't I get up?" she re-plied; "my children are obliged to getup, and it is right that I should.""Oh no, mother; we are young, it


38/194

28 WALTER MAETIN.does not hurt us to see the early dew,but you ought to rest/'"I could not rest if you were up,'' saidshe; "it is my happiness to share the la-bors of my boys," laying her hands uponthe heads of the two. "Long may I bespared to rise in the morning and carefor you, my industrious, faithful sons."How the touch of her gentle hand, andher kind words, strengthened their younghearts, as bounding down the bank, theytook a run by the side of the swiftly flow-ing river, coming out by a circuitous pathnear the mill. Here they found flocks ofwomen, men, and boys hurrying to theirdaily toil.

Our two boys placed their hands uponthe rails of the fence separating themeadow-path from the street, and with abrisk leap came over into the road, justas Tom Hardy and his band came outfrom their boarding-house doors.


39/194

STUDYING AND IMPEOVING. 29"Hallo, Natl" said Tom, "why didn't

you come down to Conant's last night?Had a high time down there, I tell you.""Had something else to do," replied

Nat drily."Wonder what?" said Tom. "Coopedup with Walter, under mamma's apron

strings ?""Couldn't stop for that," replied Nat,

"hurried to bed so as to get up in sea-son this morning to wash the bed-feath-ers off my face."

Tom's anger flashed, as involuntarilyputting his hand to his forehead, he rub-bed thence some of the down which hadclung to it from his landlady's leaky pil-low. But it was useless being angrywith Nat. He was proverbial for hiscoolness ; and his dry sarcasms, cut wherethey might, or hit as they would, werecommonly endured by the boys withoutretaliation.


40/194

30 WALTEE MAKTIX.James waited till he saw Walter and

Nat, and then joining them, went quietlyalong in their company. Nat worked inthe card-room, so Walter and James en-tered their own room together, as theydid the day before.

"Hurrah!" said Ned Manson, "I be-lieve Jim has got under Walter's wing.Poor fellow; got so whipped yesterday,he is afraid to go alone. Halloo, Jim;have you tied yourself to Walter with abed-cord ?''How Jim burned at the taunt; but a

wink from Walter prevented his reply,and the starting of the machinery pre-cluded further conversation.

Walter was never very happy in themill. He longed for more time to read,more time to study and to think; hewanted different associates, companionswhose thoughts sometimes soared abovethe spindle and the loom ; for he looked


41/194

STUDYING AND IMPEOVING. 31upon life as a gift too sacred to be trifledaway in thoughtless jests or light amuse-ments, or bartered for sensual enjoy-ments. Something in the boy looked up-ward, and though his hands were tied todaily toil, his brain was busy with flyingthoughts, and his heart was every daylearning lessons of patience and love.

In his eagerness for knowledge, he oftenlaid upon the window-sill near his workhis open bookgrammar, history, alge-bra, or geometryand as he flitted backand forth at his labor of dusting, remov-ing spools, carrying boxes, or mendingthe frail, snapping threads, he would pausefor a moment at his window, read a sen=tence in his book, and then revolve it inhis mind as he darted back to his work.He was so faithful, diligent, good-tem-

pered, and obliging, that he was a greatfavorite with his master, who carefullyavoided harshness or unkindness in deal-


42/194

32 WALTER MARTIN.ing with him. The other boys regardedhis situation with envy, and thought allthe men were partial to him on accountof his brother Frank, who was the secondoverseer of the room and a general favor-ite.

It was true, Frank had used his influ-ence in the selection of Walter's masterbut beyond that, the good conduct of theboy himself had won all the kind treat-ment he received. This was a point theother boys overlooked. They did notconsider that their own "shirking," care-lessness, and ill-temper, brought uponthem the kicks and abusive language sofrequently and plentifully showered uponthem by the impulsive men who employedthem.But Walter's kindness to James hadawakened new feelings in the heart of thewayward boy, and he watched his kindfriend with a lively interest. He wanted


43/194

STUDYING AND IMPEOVING. 33to know how he found time to read andstudy so much, without neglecting hiswork; and he was surprised to see howdiligent and quick he was in performinghis work, how every thing seemed to bedone beforehand, never lagging, neverout of the way when wanted.

*'I don't wonder 'boss Abbot' is kindto him, " soliloquized James. ' ' There is n'ta bit of chance to find fault. I wonderhow it would operate if I should try hisway. I might as well try it, any way.It isn't very pleasant to have my earsboxed and my hair pulled just when'boss' has a fancy;" and brushing backhis hair with his hand, he flew aboutwith such a bright smile and buoyantstep, kept up the threads so nicely, andpolished every thing so beautifully with-out being asked, that ''boss Wyman"looked on with amazement."What's got into the boy?" thought


44/194

34 WALTER MARTIN.he; "it is perfectly surprising. Someremarkable fit has seized him. I did n'tknow he could do so much."

'' That 's firstrate, Jim," said he ; "youhave made the old machine look like new.You can rest ten minutes, if you wantto. There 's nothing to do now."

It was James' turn to be astonished." Boss Wyman, of his own accord, tell

a fellow he may rest! I didn't knowthere was a streak of kindness in him.That 's because I tried to please him. Iwonder if the other boys wouldn't suc-ceed as well, if they should try. I'llrun over to Walter's window, and seewhat that book is."The book proved to be an elementary

work on natural sciences, and was openat a page on the laws of light."Do you read such books as this?"

asked James. "I thought, they weresuch as are studied at school."


45/194

STUDYING AND IMPEOVING. 35''So they are," replied Walter; ''but

you know I cannot go to school, and haveto study as I can.""But what^s the use?" said James;

"it isn't of any use for us to be greatscholars, and trudge around the old millall our days. If we learn ever so much,nobody will know it."

"But," replied Walter, "we need notstay here all our days, if we can knowenough to do any thing else. Or even ifwe stay, we shall be more respected, andbecome overseers or something else."

" But we do not need to be extra schol-ars to be overseers," replied James.

" The more we know, the better over-seers we should be ; or we could go intothe counting-room, and keep books ; orat least we can have the pleasure of know-ing, and of being respectable men. Buthow came you over here ? Boss Wymanwill scold you when you go back."


46/194

86 WALTEK MAETIN.''No/' replied James; ''he gave me

ten minutes. I had done up the workso close there was nothing to do. I tellyou, I begin to think it 's better to pat-tern after you than after Tom Hardyand Ned Manson. But I must go backnow;'' and James returned to his workwith a smile on his face and a smile inhis heart.

"Wake up here, Tom," said Tom'smaster. "Don't you see the roping isall out there? Fetch on some boxeshere, or I '11 make you tingle."Tom started suddenly. Burly as hewas, he dared not disobey these sharp-

toned orders, though his head ached fromthe last night's dissipation, and he feltmuch more like sleeping than he did likebringing heavy boxes of roping.

The ringing of the bell once more sentall hands home from their work; andNed and Tom dropped their occupations,


47/194

STUDYING AND IMPROVING. 37and ran as rapidly as possible. "Walterand James followed behind, as usual.

'' Let 's wait a little/^ said Ned ; '^ 'mgoing to get Nat to give us a treat .to-night.''The boys paused at the card-room

door to wait for Nat, and as he cameout, Ned caught him by the shoulder.

'' Halloo here, Nat," said he, '' you arejust the fellow we want. Go down toConant's with us to-night.'^

'' Start along there, boys," said a voicebehind, and Nat's brother Frank steppeddown the stairs. ''Go home to yourdinner, and be back in season.'^Frank was their second overseer, and

the crestfallen boys were obliged to obey.


48/194

^8 WALTEE MARTIN.

CHAPTER III.THE MORAL FAMILY.

In Mr. Martin's family, morality, astrict observance of the proprieties ofsociety, and honorable, fair dealing withall men, were accounted among the firstduties of life. Never were six boys morethoroughly instructed in the portion ofthe commandments relating to the dutiesof man to man than they.

Profanity in all its multiplied formswas strictly forbidden, and the smallestchild would have been punished for theutterance of a profane or vulgar word, orfor any substitute for swearing so com-monly adopted by those whose conscien-ces will not venture really to take thename of the great God in vain.

Lying was as strenuously prohibited,


49/194

THE MOBAL FAMILY. 39and "the truth, and nothing but thetruth," was the motto for the youthfulband, enforced by parental authority andparental example.Temperance too was a ruling feature.

Mr. Martin himself was a devotee in thecause of temperance. He lived it, andhe talked it. In temperance meetingshis voice was often heard; and not aboy of his, from Frank down to Walter,ever dared to sip a drop. Their even-ings were especially guarded against thistemptation, and they were required eitherto remain at home or give a reasonableexcuse for absence. They did not wantstrong drink, because they had not learn-ed to love it, or to like the class of boyswho frequented the haunts of dissipation.Every boy must be in at an early hour

not in a barren home, devoid of interest-ing pursuits, but in a home where books,periodicals, newspapers, and music fur-


50/194

40 WALTER MARTIN.nisliecl abundant occupation for leisurehours. So the boys grew up intelligent,virtuous, and respected.But here the father's influence paused.

Having inculcated this outward morality,he seemed strangely to forget the highercommands. The first and greatest, "Thoushalt love the Lord thy God," was for-gotten in the mind of the worldly man.The love of Jesus, faith in his name, thebeauty of his life, the necessity for achange of heart, eternity, and the greatunknown future, all were subjects unmen-tioned in family conversation.How blind is the human heart; howforgetful of the requirements of Him whohas made the world and all that is in it

There were two sisters mingled withthis band of brothers, to give freshnessand life to its evening gatherings. Itwas a happy family ; but with the excep-tion of the elder sister, the requirements


51/194

THE MORAL FAMILY. 41of religion had as yet met witli no re-sponse. She alone had learned to pray,and to draw sweet waters from the foun-tain of Jesus' love.Under these circumstances, there was

one point of true morality which occu-pied a doubtful position in the familyregulations. The observance of the Sab-bath stood on a poise ; it might be wellkept or it might not, as circumstancesoccurred.

"Don't go to church to-day, Ellen,"said Frank one Sabbath morning as theywere at breakfast. ' ' I borrowed a copyof those new poems last night, and I wantto read them to you to-day."

'' Cannot you read them after I comehome?" asked Ellen. "You know I donot like to be absent from my place inchurch. Come now, go to church withme, and then you can read to me whenwe come home."


52/194

42 WALTER MAETIN."I think it will storm before noon,

Ellen," said Mrs. Martin; ''perhaps youhad better not go to-day."

" A little storm wont hurt me, motherI can dress for it, and take my umbrella.Come, Frank, go with me," said Ellenpleadingly; for she loved her brother,and she loved the house of God, the soundof prayer, and the faithful pastor's words.Frank looked out at the window, pon-

dered a minute, and then replied, "Idon't feel like it to-day. What is theuse for me to go there, when I want toread this book? I shall not have muchtime to read this week, and I wanted toread to you to-day."

Poor Ellen; she was a young Chris-tian, loving Christ in the depths of herheart, but not very well fortified withreasons for the observance of the Sab-bath, except that she knew God hadcommanded it. She had none at home


53/194

THE MOKAL FAMILY. 43to teach lier the way of life ; and thoughthe Spirit of God, like a little lamp, threwlight upon the dim chambers of her soul,she offered to compromise with her broth-er, and join him in reading the poems, ifhe would first accompany her to church.She did not yet realize that every hourof the day is holy to God, but was firmin her determination to go to church.

''Who will go with me?" she asked,looking around the group. But the youn-ger boys were all imitators of Frank, andpleaded other occupations.

"I do n't see any use in going to meet-ing,'' said the rattling Herbert. "Peo-ple that go to meeting are no better thanthose who stay at home. Xow there isNed Manson, as wicked a fellow as thereis in the mill, but people say his father isa church-member. And there is Wheel-er, who prays in the evening meetingsand is terribly pious every Sunday, and


54/194

44 WALTEE MAKTIN.yet he will cheat every man he tradeswith."

"That is the way it is," replied Mr.Martin. ''Professors are no better thanother people, nor ministers either. Thebest way is to do about right, avoid ev-ery thing bad, and we shall come outwell enough. 'Pure religion and unde-filed before God is, to visit the fatherlessand widows in their affliction.'"

'' And to keep yourself unspotted from

the world," added Ellen."Yes," said her father; "that is, to

do right, and keep yourself from badcompany and bad deeds, which I hopemy boys will ever do."The explanation fell far short of Ellen's

ideas of the meaning of the word "unspot-ted." She pondered it as she walkedalone to the house of God. "Unspotted.Perfectly pure. If we gaze at a sheet ofnew-fallen snow, how dazzling and white


55/194

THE MOKAL FAMILY. 45it appears. The unspotted heart mustbe just so pure; aud it cannot be so, un-less we live very near to God, and haveour hearts washed in Christ's blood."But Ellen found little courage to ex-

press her thoughts at home. She metwith so many antagonisms, so many ar-guments, and so much reliance on goodworks, or "living about right" as theyexpressed it, that it was a wonder shekept within herself so much of the lightof faith as was found there. Ah, Christwas true to his promise ; and while Sa-tan threw water on the fire to quench itslight, the loving Saviour drew near, andsecretly fed it with the burning oil of hisgrace. So he ever does to those whotrust in him. Grlorious Saviour, holy isthv name.t/

Walter had been an attentive listenerto the morning's conversation. In themind of the young boy there was a rest-


56/194

46 WALTER MARTIN.less longing, a seeking for somethingwhich he had not. There was an up-ward looking of the soul, which he him-self did not understand. He plungedinto his studies and his reading, but wasnot satisfied. The book which alonecould satisfy him was yet unread.

True, there was a large Bible on ashelf by itself in the library ; but he hadseldom seen it read, except by his moth-er on a Sabbath-day. There were otherBibles in the house, and he knew thatEllen always had a pocket-Bible withher ; but it had never entered his mindthat this book contained the secrets ofthe heavenly and true wisdom, and wasa balm to the weary soul, a refreshing tothe thirsty heart.

Ellen could have pointed him to thisbook, but she had no thought that hewas seeking for the pearl of great price.There was so strong an opposition to real


57/194

THE MOKAL FAMILY. 47religion among her brothers, that she didnot speak of the subject to them ; and shelived among them without thinking thatin their minds there might be a restless-ness which mere morality could not sat-isfy.The breakfast being finished, and the

house still, Walter wandered around forsomebody to talk with. Frank wasstretched on the sofa, absorbed in hispoem, Mr. Martin and the boys werescattered about reading, and Ellen wasat church. At last Walter found hismother in the kitchen, sitting quietlyalone, with the large Bible on her lap.

This was just what he wanted. Hethought his mother must be a Christianhe was sure she could not live such abeautiful life, unless she had something inher heart to guide her footsteps ; yet shehad never spoken to him on this subject.

"Mother," said Walter, ''what makes


58/194

48 WALTEK MARTIN.Ellen so particular to go to meeting everySabbath?''

''Because she enjoys going, and shethinks it is right to go," replied hismother.

"Well, mother, you seem to like to gosometimes ; but you are not so particularabout it. If it storms, or any thing oc-curs to prevent, you stay at home. ButEllen will not stay for any thing. Shewould not even stay to please Frank thismorning. Was that right, mother?"

"I think it was," replied his mother.''It certainly is right to sustain the wor-ship of God. We are all dependent onHim ; he is the great Author of all things,and it is right that people should serveand honor him."Never before had Mrs. Martin said somuch as this ; but the inquiring expressionof her child had drawn out her thoughtssurprisingly.


59/194

THE MOBAL FAMILY. 49*' Then I am sure," said "Walter, "we

are very far from doing right. There isnot one in the house, except Ellen, thatever feels the least responsibility aboutgoing to church. Father and all theboys think it quite a burden to go, unlesssome remarkable man is going to preach,or some special topic is to be introduced.Temperance meetings, lyceums, politicalmeetings, and all such gatherings theyattend if it does storm."

Mrs. Martin was puzzled. She hardlyknew what to say. Her own examplehad not been perfect in this respect, andher conscience was too busy to permit aready reply. But she was relieved fromher difficulty by the merry sounds of feetand tongues coming down the back stairs,eagei to pop corn at the kitchen fire.The corn was popped and eaten, and

the whole family were still collected inthe kitchen when Ellen came in from


60/194

50 WALTER MAETIN.church. The sight touched her heartpainfully. They were all tidily dressed,and seemed vieing with each other inkindness ; but Ellen remembered it wasthe Sabbath, and she wished that herbrothers loved the house of God, and herfather too. If he would only go to churchoftener, what an influence it would have.Then there was the Sabbath-school en-tirely neglected, and Ellen almost doubt-ed whether they were truly a moral fam-ily. " Is it really morality," thought she," to neglect the church, and break thefourth commandment by doing our ownpleasure on God's holy day?"

Walter had, for the time, forgotten thebrief conversation he had held with hismother that morning; but Mrs. Martinwell remembered it. Why should Wal-ter ask such questions? She dwelt muchon the matter, revolving it in her mindwhile she prepared the dinner.


61/194

THE IVrOEAL FAMILY. 61The keeping of the Sabbath was indeed

a test- point in the family. She knewmany families whose heads were profes-sors of religion, that had no family altar,and in that respect she thought they wereno better than their family. But those,people went to church, at least when itwas pleasant, while her boys did not liketo attend church at all. And when itwas pleasant, they sometimes walked out,either in the street or rambling in thefields ; arguing that as they had so littletime for breathing the fresh air during theweek, it was necessary for their health touse the Sabbath for this purpose.At her suggestion, Walter went to

church with Ellen in the afternoon.Frank continued reading his poems ; Mr.Martin tried an afternoon nap ; the boysfound something to read, and the Sabbathwore away, leaving its record to be re-viewed at the final day.


62/194

52 WALTEE MARTIN.

CHAPTER lY.THE CONVEESION.

MoxTHS passed on, leaving little traceof their footsteps in the band under Mr.Martin's roof. All were still there, tread-ing the usual round, save the second sonJames, who had gone to the Saranac wil-derness of New York. He was missedfrom the group, but frequent letters toldof his prosperity, and already some ofthe brothers were expressing a desire tofollow him. Mrs. Martin was glad theydid not want to go farther west ; she could,not spare them for that, for her sons wereher hope and her joy.Walter still went daily to the mill, andthere too were Tom and Ned and James.A bright but cold day had come, andWalter's overcoat was buttoned to his


63/194

THE CONVERSION. 53chin, as lie ran back to his work afterdinner. James, as usual, came out to joinhim.

"Walter," said he, "I have heardthere are to be special meetings down inthe lower church. They commence to-day. Don't you want to go?"

''I don't know," said Walter, "wedon't have time.""We can go in the evening," repliedJames. "I want to go down to-night,

and I wish you would go with me.""Well, perhaps I will."In the mill, Walter found the meetingswere the general topic of conversation.

Large numbers of the men expressed theirdetermination to go ; and so did many ofthe boys, laughing and jesting however,as they told their various refisons for go-ing.

"I wish you would call for me thisevening," said James, as he and Walter


64/194

54 WALTER MAETIX.left the mill at night. "I had rather goto the meeting with you than anybody.You saved me from becoming like thoseboys, and have been my protector andfriend ; and I want you to teach me theway to heaven."'The way to heaven !''

Walter repeated the expression tohimself as he walked slowly home. "Theway to heaven! Why, I do n't know theway myself. How can I teach him?What made him say that to me?''Then Walter recollected how pale

James had recently looked, how thinand delicate he was ; and he thought,"Well, perhaps he will go to heaven byand by; who knows? I '11 call for himto-night, certainly."The eveni-ng was clear and beautiful,and the church was already crowdedwhen Walter and James entered; sopassing up the aisle, they took some low


65/194


66/194

56 WALTER MAETIN.own blood. The congregation meltedunder the fervor of his words, and eyesunused to weep shed tears that night.

Walter had heard impressive sermonsbefore, but never one that moved himlike this. Every sentence was fraughtwith meaning to his awakened sensibili-ties. He saw. his heart in a new light,and the blackness of its guilt opened tohis consciousness. No longer did he feelhimself removed by good works from thevilest sinners who lived. Convictionfollowed conviction with deeper thrust,and he went home with the barbed ar-row deep within him. James was sadand depressed; but so absorbed wasWalter in himself, that he scarcely no-ticed his companion at all. He wantedto do something for his own salvation;but coming to Jesus, believing on himalone, seemed so simple, that his self-righteousness could not understand it.


67/194

THE CONVEKSION. 57Surely there must be something for himto do somewhere.

That night he found a Bible and readlong before he retired ; but everywherehe found threatenings and condemnation.True he read, "Come unto me, and I willgive you rest;"' "He that believeth shallbe saved;" and, "Him that cometh untome I will in no wise cast out;" but hisexcited mind seized hold upon none ofthese promises. He did not think theywere for him. Everywhere was doubtand gloom.The next morning he went to his work

as usual, but there was no peace in hisheart. He did not speak of his feelings,and none knew the struggles and conflictswith which he was contending.

James too was occupied with his ownthoughts, and though sure that Walterwas under deep conviction like himself,he dared not mention it.


68/194

58 WALTER MARTIN."I wish I dared speak to him," said he

to himself; "I want to tell him that weought to love Jesusthat I think thatwould make us happy, and would fill thatunsatisfied longing he sometimes talksabout. But he does not look at me to-day.I do n't know what to think of him."

Neither of the boys said much aboutthe meeting; but in the evening, whenWalter went again, he stopped beforeJames' door and found him ready.

Again the preacher presented Christ,for Christ was his favorite theme; anddeeper yet went the sure arrows of con-viction which accompanied his words.The house was pressed to its utmost ca-pacity, and the preacher seemed to swaythe hearts before him as the heart of oneman. Could any steel themselves againstsuch searching appeals? He drew him-self down to his audience as though hewas one of them ; could any resist?


69/194

THE CONVEESION. 59The third night found Walter and

James again there ; and this time, whena request was made that those who de-sired prayers should signify it, Jameswas the first to go. Walter was sur-prised. In all his anxiety he had notthought of doing that; it would be so pub-lic. No, he was going to God by himself;or if he perished, he would perish alone.

But James' bold step startled him, andhe began to consider what he should do.That night the young soul of James drankof the waters which his Saviour gavehim. He had yielded. He laid himselfat the foot of the cross, he acceptedChrist for his salvation, and henceforthhis trust was in Him. The next morn-ing he waited for Walter as usual, andthe light of joy beamed in his eye as hemet him. All fear of him was gone, forthe Saviour's love had taken away thefear of man.


70/194

60 WALTER MARTIN."Walter," said he, "I am so happy."

Walter started as if stung by some pierc-ing thought."Happy, happy!" the very words

jarred upon Walter's ear. What washappiness ? Theij^ was certainly no suchthing for him, and he did not reply.

"Walter," continued James, "I havefound Jesus. My heart is so light, andI have such joy. Do n't you want to findhim too?"

Walter looked at him earnestly a mo-ment, and then replied, "Yes, James, Iwant to find him, but I can't; I knownot where he is.""Why, he is everywhere. His love

fills every place. You have only to say,'Here, Lord, I give myself to thee,' andyou can find him at once."What a sudden change passed through

the soul of the stiff-necked boy. The icewas broken, he had spoken his thoughts,


71/194

THE CONVEKSION. 61and now his pride broke down, and liepoured the feelings of his heart into theears of his young friend.

''You must pray,'' said James."I do pray, but it does no good.""Oh, it will do good. God will hear

you ; he always hears. You must askfor the prayers of Christians to-night."

''Oh, I can't do that. The boys athome will laugh at me. They thinkthere is no need of going to church."

"I thought you didn't care for people,if they do laugh."

Alas for Walter ; he knew not what tosay. He who had walked with such a fear-less air, feared to show himself amongthose who prayed. The boaster had fall-en, he had acknowledged himself afraid."Where is Ellen?" said James. "Why

do n't she go to these meetings?""She is out of town this winter. She

is teaching."


72/194

62 WALTER MAETIN.**If she was at home she could help

you now, and tell you what to do.''"Yes," said Walter, "perhaps I should

have told her before this. She wouldunderstand me."

"Well, go to meeting with me to-night;let the world know that you seek Jesus,and he will come to you just as he hascome to me. He will fill you with joyand peace ; you will see his glory, andwe '11 praise him together, both here andhereafter."

James had taken Walter's hand with afirm grasp, and looked earnestly in hisface, till he promised that he would comeout publicly that evening, as an inquirerfor the true and living way.He did so, and as Christians pleaded inhis behalf at the throne of grace his heart

throbbed. He felt as though bound witha thousand chains ; his pulse quickened,and he said to himself, "I will yield. I


73/194

THE CONVERSION. 63will give myself to Christ." Then hiswill came up again in all its obstinacy,and said, "You can't; where is the usein trying? Besides, how do you know,after all, that there really is any Jesuswho hears you? Perhaps it is all afarce?". Near him stood an elderly Christianwoman, who had noticed the changes ofhis countenance, and turning to him, shegave him such a look as caused everynerve of his body to thrill.

''I never saw such a look," said heafterwards to a friend; ''a look of pain,of anxiety for me, of yearning love ; alook as from eternity. It revealed to methe day of judgment ; it flashed into mysoul a crucified Saviour, and exhibitedmy sin in disobeying him. I saw thatshe at^least believed without a doubt, andmy own doubts instantly fled. Should Irebel against God ? Could I endure his


74/194

6i Y^ALTER MAETIN.wrath if I did? No. 'Blessed Jesus/ Isaid, 'take me now. Save me; I rebelno longer. I am thine. Henceforth Iam thine, forever thine.'"

'' Oh, Walter,'' said James, as theywere walking home, "I knew when youbecame a Christian.""How did you know?" asked Walter."By the light of your eye and the hap-

piness shown in your face. Let us blessGod together. Come in to my room be-fore you go home, and let us thank Godtogether."And there the two new-born souls firstknelt together to praise Him who loved

them and bought them with his blood.How sweet are such praises in heaven.We know they are heard there, for doesnot the word of God say, "There is joyin heaven over one sinner that i* pent-eth?"The next morning Walter and James


75/194

THE CONVEKSION. 65were at their places as usual, but a newlight shone in their faces, and they hadprayed that it might shine in their lives.Many of the mill hands had attendedthe meetings, and a close watch hadbeen kept over all who seemed interest-ed. It was soon known that James andWalter were among those hopefully con-verted, and significant looks and whis-pers passed around among their old ac-quaintances, David Nealy, Tom Hardy,Ned Manson, and the rest. They too hadattended the meetings, and been some-what impressed by the services; but attheir close each evening they had goneto their usual resort, Conant's, and dissi-pated whatever feeling they had, amidstrong drink, cigars, and profanity. Al-ready they were learning to love thefatal cup, and to take a glass ; while thefumes of strong drink and tobacco weretheir especial delight. How fearful in


76/194

66 WALTEll MAETIN.the last great day will be the woe pro-nounced on the men whose vicious ex-ample and ridicule of religion closed theeyes and hearts of these youth while theSaviour was passing by.


77/194

THE LAST FAEEWELL. 61

CHAPTER Y.THE LAST FAEEWELL.

That was a happy winter for theyouthful converts. Many besides Wal-ter and James had passed from deathunto life. The voice of prayer and hymnsof praise were heard in many rooms, themeetings were full of young worshippers,and all through the mill were scatteredjoyful hearts, triumphing in Christ's love.

Walter no longer regarded the boyswith the pride he had formerly mani-fested; he spoke to them kindly, andsometimes walked with them, convers-ing so pleasantly that the hearts of somebegan to warm towards him. Uncon-sciously the oath and the rough jestwere suppressed in his presence, and hetried to induce them to join the Sabbath-


78/194

08 WALTER MARTIN.school. Thus lie honored his Master evenamong those who could not understandthe change, and who yet discerned thepower of Christ in their young compan-ion. Happy are those, young or old,who live so near their Saviour that he isreflected in all their conduct and honoredby their daily life.When the spring came, with its chill-

ing winds, Walter noticed that Jamesdid not seem so strong as usual. Therewas a flush on his cheek, a short breath,and a frequent cough that increased daily.

''James," said Walter one morning,"I don't think you ought to work; Ido n't believe you are able."

'*I do feel weak," replied James ; "butyou know I have to pay my board, andif I do n't keep busy, I shall fall behind ;and I do n't like to send word to fatherhe cannot afford to keep me at homelong."


79/194

THE LAST FAREWELL. 69''Well, come up and stay with me a

week. Mother will be glad to have you,I know, and she will cure you."'' I should like to," said James, '' if the

overseer is willing."Walter made haste home, and in afew minutes was back again with his

mother's consent. All was readily ar-ranged at his boarding-house and at thefactory, where all pitied the gentle andpatient James, and were ready to dividehis work among them.

That same forenoon James was wel-comed to Mrs. Martin's hospitable andmotherly care. Lizzie brought pillowsand a warm spread for the sofa; andas he stretched himself upon the softcouch he gratefully said, "This is so com-fortable, I shall get well soon, I am sure."

Walter, at his mother's request, boughtsome slippery-elm to carry home at noon.He had great faith in his mother's med-


80/194

70 WALTER MARTIN.ical powers. " She is better than a doc-tor," he used to say.

'*But your mother can't save him,"said bossWyman, "nor the doctors either.I have known this good while, that he wasgoing to die. He is a good boy, and Ihate to spare him. When he first camehere he did n't do very well, but thisreligion of his brought him right round."

"So you see," said Walter, "religionis a good thing. Sometimes you think itis worse than nothing."

"Oh, the true, genuine religion is agood thing, I suppose ; but I do n't thinkmuch of this 'cant,' that is all talk andno practice."

"That isn't religion," replied Walter." Folks think it is," said Wyman, " and

they '11 pray, and pretend to be verygood, when they are no better than I am,and do n't try half as hard to do right asI do."


81/194

THE LAST FAREWELL. 71'' Trying to do ' about right ' never can

save us," said Walter; "Jesus Christsaves us. He died for our sins, and wemust believe on him as our Saviour, andlove and serve him."

"Oh, I don't know any thing aboutthat," replied Wyman ; "somehow I can'tunderstand it ; but I am glad James does,for when a person is going to die, I sup-pose it 's a good thing."" Yes," said Walter, " and it is a goodthing to live by too. It will make youhappy every day."

Walter was saddened at the thoughtthat his friend was going to die, but herejoiced that the beauty of his every-daylife had borne testimony to the truth asit is in Jesus ; and he knew that thissame loving Jesus was in heaven, andwould surely receive one who loved himso well.

"It is only passing through the valley


82/194

72 WALTER MABTIN.a little sooner tlian I do, that is all,"tliouglit he. ''I shall follow him whenmy work is clone. Mav I be as ready togo as he is.*'

Three days passed, when Mrs. Martinsaid the}^ had better send for James'father. His father came, and the bestefforts were made for his restorationbut still he faded, and at length he waswrapped in overcoats and blankets, andkindly carried home.

''Haye you heard from Jim to-day?"said Tom Hardy to Walter, a fortnightlater.

"Yes," replied Walter, "I saw thedoctor this morning. He thinks he isfailing, and will not liye many weeks. Ishall go out Saturday night, and stay allnight with him."

'' I wish I could go, " said Tom. ' ' May

I go with you, Walter ?""Yes," said Walter, "I should be


83/194

THE LAST FAKEWELL. 73glad to have you. We will buy someoranges and such things, and carryout;'So the reckless Tom took the Saturday

night, which was generally spent at thetavern, for visiting the sick young Chris-tian. It proved a blessed Saturday nightto the wayward 3^outh.James was glad to see them, and ex-

tended his thin hand as cordially to Tomas to Walter, though a look of surprisepassed over his face when he saw him.James was very feeble, so that it was

necessary some one should sit up withhim through the night. Walter imme-diately offered his services.

"No,'' said Tom, "you stay to-mor-row, and sit up with him to-morrownight. I must go back in the morning,and I will take care of him to-night."Then recollecting himself, he added,"Perhaps you think I can't take care


84/194

74 WALTEK MAETIN.of yoii well, I am so rough. But Ican, and I will. I will be gentle as alamb."The two friends looked at each other

for a moment, and James replied, "Ishould be glad to have jou, if you arewilling;."When all had retired, and thev were

left alone, Tom felt awkwardly. Hesmoothed down the pillow and arrangedthe clothes, but still did not speak. Thetruth is, he had come all the way outthere to confess to James, and to ask hisforgiveness, but he did not know how tobegin. James spoke first.

"Tom," said he, ''the doctor says Imust die, and I feel it too."

Tom's firmness gave way, and tearsfell from his eyes as he grasped the wanhand. "I know it," said he; "will you,can you forgive me ?"

"Forgive you!"saidJames J "forwhat?'^


85/194

THE LAST FAEEWELL. 75'For treating you so, ever since we

had that fight."'"That fight/' said James ; ''why, I was

just as much to blame as you. Howwicked I was.""Not so bad as I was," replied Tom.

"And how many times I have laughedat you since about your religion."

"That was only because you did notunderstand such things. Let me askyou now to become a Christian, and giveup your wicked ways."Then followed a long talk, at the close

of which James gave Tom his Bible, andTom promised to read it faithfully.A month passed by, and James wasyet alive. Every day his faith grewstronger, and the light from his dying-bed was aiding to accomplish that whichthe meetings had begun ; it was workinga revolution among the men and boys ofthe spinning-room. Some of them visited


86/194

76 WALTER MARTIN.him, carrying their little tokens of good-will, and receiving in return his testi-mony of the sweet peace which he foundin the Redeemer, and earnest entreatiesto seek his love.

His serene state of mind was a generaltopic of conversation among his friendsand when evening came, Tom and Nedwere no longer seen at the tavern. Theybegan to think they too must some timedie, and they wanted to be prepared.Frank Martin too, often spent the hoursof the night by the side of the happysufferer, each time getting a clearer viewof the realities of another world.

The last day came at length, and theloving spirit was gently released, andreturned to God who gave it, and to theSaviour who redeemed it.


87/194

LEAVING THE MILL. 7t

CHAPTER YI.FROM THE MILL TO THE SCHOOL.Surely and steadily the leaven of

reform was working among the band ofboys in the spinning-room. The effectof the glorious departure of the youngChristian lingered like the departingtwilight of a radiant summer's evening.The boys were more faithful at theirwork; the men became more lenient;there was less profanity, less kicking,and less scolding.

Tom's reformation had produced awonderful influence. When he com-menced reading his Bible, and threwthe weight of his strong will on the sidewhich Walter defended, there was ageneral surprise ; but though his old inti-mates sneered at him, and though his


88/194

78 WALTER MARTIN.love for liquors and cigars strong!}" tempt-ed liim, lie firmly resisted every foe, bothinward and outward, read the treasuredBible, the gift of the departed, and faith-fully kept the promise made in the stillhours of that long -remembered night.Xed and David too gradually changed,under the strong influence of Tom andhis urgent appeals.

Thus a year escaped into the past."Walter had grown to be quite a tall boy,and had been promoted from back-boyto become himself a spinner, in charge ofa mule. And then came other changes,to Walter agreeable, and important intheir results.

There was a depression in the times,mercantile houses failing, money hard tobe obtained, and the manufacturing com-pany decided to suppress a part of theirworks. A portion of the mill was to remain unused, and consequently many of


89/194

LEAVING THE MILL. 19the operatives must be dismissed fromemployment.

"I suppose/' said Mr. Fiske to FrankMartin one morning, ''that we shall stopabout half the mules in our room, andone or two in the lower spinning-room.It is hard to say who must leave ; the menwill hardly know how to find employ-ment, and I dislike to say who shall go."

"I heard Walter say he hoped youwould send him away," replied Frank." Ah, why does he want to go ?""He wants to go to school; and he

says father will never be willing as longas he can have work to do here. Fatherlikes to see us all earning.""Very well," said Mr. Fiske, "let

Walter be one to go then."Presently Harry Martin came runningup the stairs from the lower spinning-room, where he had so quietly workedhitherto.


90/194

80 WALTER MARTIN.''Mr. Fiske," said he, "I understand

there is to be a mule stopped in ourroom.""Yes,"' said Mr. Fiske, ''I suppose

there must be.""Well, I have come up to ask you if

I might be the one excused?""Why, I have just excused Walter.

Do YOU want to go to school too?""No, sir, I want to go to New York,where my brother is. I have wanted to

go for a long time, and this is just the sea-son to suit me. Up in the Saranac regionwhere he is, there is plenty of game, andsplendid fish, and big forests. He is tak-ing deer now all the time, and I must go."

"Yery well then," said Mr. Fiske;"you are a prime workman, Harry, andI should like to keep you ; but it is bet-ter to send away those who want to gothan those who do not, so you can go."

Mr. Martin was in great consternation


91/194

LEAVING THE MILL. 81when it was announced to liim at the din-ner-table that Walter and Harry had.both left the mill.

''I don't know how we shall getalong, " said he, ' ' if you all do so. Timesare hard, and you can't find so profitableemployment anywhere else."

''I do n't want employment," said Wal-ter, ' ' I want to go to school ; and the oldmill is in trouble. I am glad I can getaway. If the work had not stopped Ishould never have dared to ask to beexcused."

"If yoi: go to school a while," saidMr. Martin, ''what then?"''I do not know what then," replied

Walter; ''we will see if I know anything first. '^"I think he had better go to school,"said his mother; "he has wanted to gofor a long time."

"Well," replied Mr. Martin, "I sup-W. Martin. Q


92/194

82 WALTER MARTIN.pose lie must then. But what are yougoing to do, Harry?''

'* Why, sir, I think I '11 go up to theSaranac region. They are bagging thegame there, and sending it down theHudson rapidly."

''Oh, Harry," said his father, "it isbad enough to have one son off there inthe woods. I do n't want another there.I want my boys to stay with me."

'' I do n't know but he had better go,"said Mrs. Martin. "I have many anx-ious days and nights about our lonely onethere, and if Harry is with him they canbe company for each other, and take careof each other if they are sick."

Mr. Martin yielded; and then Nat,who was almost eighteen, put in his pleafor a few months' visit to the Saranacwith his brother. This too was allowed,and only Frank and Herbert were left tofollow the routine of the mill.


93/194

LEAVING THE MILL. 83Wajter felt like a new being. The bur-

den of an uncongenial mode of labor wasremoved from his shoulders, and his spir-its rebounded with an elasticity he hadnever felt before. He collected his bookstogether, and kneeling in his chamber,thanked God for opening to him this op-portunity of improving his mind, andprayed that he might have grace andstrength to improve it aright, and mightbecome an honor to his Saviour and ablessing to the world.

Walter hardly knew where to placehimself, or what rank he could take inschool. His studies had always been somuch by himself, that he felt a diffidenceabout comparing himself with those ofmore favored opportunities. He expect-ed to be far behind them, but determinedto exert himself and keep as near themas possible.He was agreeably surprised therefore


94/194

84 WALTER MARTIN.when the teacher, after a brief examina-tion, assigned him to the first Englishclass in his school. He feared Mr. Trainwas mistaken, and had placed him toohigh.

"I have never been in school much,sir," said he; *'I am afraid that is too highfor me.'^"You have studied by yourself, you

told me."" Yes, sir," said "Walter, '' I have had

no teacher."''But you have been a thorough stu-

dent. In whatever branch I have ques-tioned you, I find you have a perfect un-derstanding. I should advise you tocommence on Latin. You have notstudied the language, you say ?"

" If you please, sir," said Walter, '' Ishould prefer a term under you in thecommon 'branches first. I should likeyour instructions in English grammar,


95/194

LEAVING THE MILL. 85and such branches as are pursued in dis-trict schools. If I can become fitted forit, I should like to teach.''

'' As you please/' said Mr. Train. '' Ihave no doubt but you are as well fittedto teach now as half our teachers; andhalf of the other half," he added, smiling.

Walter seized upon his studies withavidity. As the parched earth absorbsthe falling rain, his thirsty mind drankin the instructions of his teacher.

''I never saw any thing like it," re-marked he; '' if he should teach with thesame avidity that he studies, he wouldbe the best teacher in town."

This remark, was made in the hearingof a gentleman who, a few days after, wasin a district three miles out from the vil-lage where they were wanting a teacher.

"Our means are not large," observedMr. Brown, one of the committee; "wecannot afford the highest price for one of


96/194

86 WALTEPw MAETIN.the first teacliers, and yet we want agood one."The gentleman told him of the remarkwhich Mr. Train had made with regardto Walter Martin.

'' Walter Martin," replied Mr. Brown*' I know him very well. He is a finelittle fellow, but I didn't know he wasqualified to teach."

" It seems he has qualified himself,"replied the gentleman. "Mr. Trainplaces him in the front rank of his Eng-lish scholars, and is anxious he shouldhave a school, to prevent his going backinto the mill."

''I tell you, wife," said Mr. Brown,"he is just the one for us. He can boardin our family. I *11 ride out and see himthis evening. Don't you want to go andcall upon Mrs. Martin?"

"Yes, I have been wishing all daythat you would invite me to ride."


97/194

LEAVING THE MILL. SiThat evening the agreement was com-

pleted, and Walter was so moderate inhis price, that it was found they couldhave four months of school, which sent

Mr. Brown home in high spirits. He lostno time in communicating to his neigh-bors the rare bargain he had made, andthe long school they would have ; beingcareful to add that he boarded the teach-er a little under price, which would alsohelp to lengthen the term.

Walter sought his pillow that eveningwith new feelings in his heart. He hadwanted a school, but now that it hadcome he almost shrank from the under-taking.

''I am so young," he thought, "willthe scholars fear and respect me?'^Then he remembered the Saviour whohad so often been his refuge, and kneel-ing before him he thanked him for giv-ing him this school, and prayed for assist-


98/194

88 WALTEK MAKTIN.ance and a blessing in the discharge ofits duties.The fall term of the academy closedthe week previous to the annual Thanks-giving. Nat had just returned from hisSaranac tour, and Ellen came home, sothat all but two gathered round theThanksgiving board.The Monday after Thanksgiving, Wal-

ter entered upon his new scene of labor.Mr. and Mrs. Brown gave him a cordialwelcome, and in the school-room he wasgreeted with smiling eyes from the youthof the district, who were already in theirseats, awaiting him. He opened theschool with prayer, and soon found him-self quite at ease.He had his own ideas of teaching, de-

rived perhaps from studying so muchby himself. He determined that what-ever he taught should be thoroughlytaught, and he threw into his school so


99/194

LEAVING THE MILL. 89mucli zeal and earnestness of purpose,that the scholars, catching his spirit, stud-ied and learned as they had never donebefore."You are doing wonders in our school,'^

said a farmer to him one day. "Mychildren never learned so before. Whatdo you do to them ?"

" Come in some day, and see," repliedWalter."I will," said he, pleased with the in-vitation ; and soon the scholars were sur-prised to see the farmer and his wifewalk into the school. The invitationwas extended to others so cordially thatthey could not refuse ; and one after an-other, the staid farmers found their wayto the school, where everybody was sowide awake. The fame of these thingsreached the village."You are succeeding finely, I hear,"

said Mr. Train, as Walter called upon


100/194

90 WALTER MAETIN.him one Saturday evening. * ' How is ityou do it?''

''I hardly know, myself," replied Wal-ter, ''except that I feel so much interest-ed in my school, that I interest my pu-pils. I have tried to teach them self-respect, and that it is of the utmost im-portance that they not only learn theirlessons, but learn them thoroughly ; andthat they strive to become useful in theworld, and to be noble men and women,remembering that they are accountableto God.""You have struck* the right chord,"

said Mr. Train; "it is far better thanscolding and whipping. May Grod giveyou grace to persevere."

"Thank you," replied Walter. "Icalled to ask you to lend me yourphysiological charts; I have promisedmy first class some lectures on physiol-ogy.''


101/194

LEAVING THE MILL. 91"Certainly/' said Mr. Train, "I am

happy to lend them."Walter thanked him, and hastened

home to his mother."Mother," said he, " are not the weeks

long without me ?""They would be, my son, only Tknow you are happy in your occupa-tion ; and what is your happiness ismine. I hear that you are succeedingfinely," said she, " and I am very happyto know it."

" I have tried to do well, mother.God opened the way for me, and I oughtto do all I can."At the annual town-meeting, a brief

notice of each school was usually readin presence of the assembled voters ofthe town. Walter was anxious to knowwhat was said of his school, and hecrowded in among the men, that hemight distinctly understand the reader.


102/194

02 WALTER MARTIN.He found that his school was ranked asthe second in town."Only one teacher better than I am,and he an experienced teacher," saidWalter to his mother, in reporting toher what he had heard. "Now I caneasily get a school another winter."

"I am very glad," she replied, "bothfor your sake and m}^ own."


103/194

THE CHASTENING. 93

CHAPTER YII.THE CHASTENING.

Walter had now earned enough tokeep him at the academy until anotherwinter, and the consent of his father andmother was easily obtained to this plan.Both were pleased with his success, andwere anxious he should have all the ad-vantages they could secure for him. Histeacher, and others who had become in-terested in him, advised him to preparefor a college course.He was in doubt respecting this plan.

It seemed to him a great undertaking,with no available resources except win-ter teaching. He must have clothes andbooks ; even his preparatory studiescould not be completed in his own vil-lage, and if he went away there would


104/194

94 WALTER MAETIN.be the expenses of his board in addition.He could not see how he could even pre-pare for college, or how go through it ifhe was prepared.

Mr. Train advised him not to look for-ward so far as that, but to commence,and God would open a way for him inhis providence. He accordingly enter-ed upon the study of Latin and thehigher mathematics, and so continuedthrough the season, until another winterapproached.

There was another subject upon whichhe had not yet decided, and which troub-led his mind with a continual anxiety.He had not yet made a public professionof religion. He was anxious to form anopinion upon the respective merits ofthe several denominations ; and he readvarious authors, examined articles offaith, and studied inquiringly into thedifferences which separated the many


105/194

THE CHASTENING. 95churches. But the more he examined,the more puzzled he became. The pastorupon whose Diinistrations he attended,conversed with him on the subject. Headvised him to put away every theologi-cal book but one, and that the Bible."Read that," said he, "and that alone.It is simple in all the ideas necessary forour lives here, and presents the greattruths fresh from the Creator. Aboveall, pray. Pray for enlightening wis-dom, pray for the Holy Spirit, whichwill guide you into all truth.''

Walter followed his pastor's advice;and Grod, who saw his struggles, led himinto paths of light and peace.

In another part of the town there wasa small but beautiful village, containinga school-house, a few dwellings, one ori:wo stores, and a church. The citizenswent to the main village to vote ; and herein town-meeting they had listened to


106/194


107/194

THE CHASTENING. 91In the midst of these occupations he

was brought to a sudden pause. In thechamber of feverish agony lay his dar-ling brother Frank, the first-born of thesons.

Every heart was hushed, and every la-bor suspended, while the band of broth-ers united in care for the sick. Butthe fearful day came, the last day, andtlie twilight of an autumnal eve threw itsdreary shadows into the room, where,amid the assembled family and friends,the sufferer lay, with his head upon hismother's shoulder. The eyes of the dy-ing young man glowed with unwontedbrightness, when, meeting the gaze of hisbrother Kat, he said,

''Xat, this is a hard spot, the hardestin which a man can be." Then lookingwistfully np to his mother, she repliedwith the words,


108/194

9S WALTER MAETIN." Jesus can make a dying bedFeel soft as downy pillows are,While on his breast I lean my head,And breathe my life out sweetly there."

He bowed his head in assent to thetruth of the precious verse, and wasgone, for ever gone.

There was sadness in the hearts of thestricken family. This was the first deathin the cemented circle. After-break-ages might follow, but they would toucha fractured ring, tremulous with the lin-gering vibrations of the first shock.The young teacher returned to his

school with new views of life. Death hadcome very near to him, and at its callhe renewedly consecrated himself to God,praying for grace to live the good man'slife, that he might die the good man'sdeath.He found in his school plenty of labor

to occupy his time, and break up any


109/194

THE CHASTENING. 99lethargy which might steal over him.There were a large number of pupils,many of them quite advanced in theirstudies ; and he was obliged to be activeand industrious, that they might be prop-erly instructed in the variety of branchespursued. Thus he was compelled tobanish the inertia consequent upon hislate bereavement, and resume the elas-ticity so necessary to success."The selection of my boarding-placemust have been by a higher power," heremarked to a friend visiting his school,"for my especial benefit. My host is'a host in himself,^ and I find myselfstrengthening and improving daily underhis care. He is just the guide I needed.""You must be spending a pleasant

winter then," replied his friend, "for Isee your school is very agreeable. I amglad of your success."When Walter returned to tea, his wel-


110/194

100 WALTEK MAETIN.come was cordial. Mr. Cliilcls, who wasthe pastor, had completed his prepara-tion for the next Sabbath, and was justin the mood for an evening's chat.

"So, YOU have finished another day'swork," he remarked, as Walter enteredthe sitting-room. "So have I. I havebeen pressing on to-day, to be ready forthe Sabbath; and I think this eveningyou and I will spend with the ladies.

"Thank you,"' said Walter; "I shallbe happy to do so."

"Yes; I knew you would. It is notwell for you to shut yourself up in yourroom all these evenings, poring over yourbooks. It will make you morbid ; and aman with 'the blues' cannot live as aChristian should."

"I see," said Walter, "you do notbelieve in a dull and gloomy Christi-anity."

"Indeed I do not," replied he warmly.


111/194

THE CHASTENING. 101"Christ did not come into the world tomake us desponding and sad. He cameto make us happy ; and how can we behappy unless we are cheerful? Whenwe realize the bounties of our heavenlyFather's bestowing in this life, and con-sider that beyond it we have the promiseof eternal life, how can we be otherwisethan joyful? I think you told me youlearned to love Jesus long ago, but havenot yet united yourself to his church.''

"Yes, sir,'' replied Walter, "that isthe case. There are some points whichI am unable to decide, and I'm waitingto see more clearly."

"Don't wait too long for that, myyoung friend. You must not stay out inthe cold, freezing your heart for the wantof Christian sympathy. Decide uponsomething, and get where you can feel athome. It will do you good. As a manis happier for a loving home in this world,


112/194

102 WALTER MAETIX.SO a Christian is happier to have a lov-ing home in the bosom of Christ's church.It is the command of our Saviour. Oneof his last acts was the institution of theLord's supper ; and he who neglects this,neglects one of his greatest earthly priv-ileges."

"I am aware of it," replied Walter;"but there are conflicting views held bythe different churches, between which Iam unable to decide."

"This is probably the result of yourearly education," said Mr. Childs. "Nothaving been accustomed to attend achurch regularly in your early days, youhave not learned to love one more thananother. But I hear the tea-bell. Theladies are expecting us, and after tea wewill have some music."

Mr. Childs led the way to the tea-table, followed by the young teacher ; andas his genial smile shed its lustre over the


113/194

THE CHASTENING. 103bountiful board, and his voice invokedthe blessing of the Most High upon thefood before them, Walter felt how beau-tiful were the Christian virtues, when dis-played in the every-day duties of life.

"Besides claiming you for this even-ing," said Mr. Childs as he filled Wal-ter's "iDlate, "I must speak for you to-mor-row, as I believe you have no school. Iwant to take you round among the peo-ple.*'

"Thank you," said Walter; "but Isuppose my mother will expect me hometo-morrow.""Ah, well, you ought to go home, tobe sure, for your mother's sake. Butwe'll make a few calls first, and thenWillie shall take the pony and drive youout home, if you please."

Walter accepted the proposal, andfound his heart growing warm and cheer-ful, in social contact with the generous,


114/194

104 WALTER MAETIN.open-hearted, hospitable home scenes bywhich he was surronnclecl.''Now, Ada," said Mr. Childs to hisdaughter, "we hope you will furnish ussome music. Our young friend here willsupply the tenor, Miss Abigail," noddingto the sister of his wife, "will give thesoprano, and I think I can add a littlebass."The piano was rich in its tones, the

music selected of a choice character, andWalter enjoyed an hour or two of min-gled conversation and music with a keenzest.

"These evenings are my recreation,"said Mr. Childs. ' ' They give me a pleas-ant relief when I am wearied with thelabors of my calling."Thus the wise pastor sought to dispel

the morbid gloom of the young teach-er, and to prepare him for a candidand healthful examination of the truths


115/194

THE CHASTENING. 105which he did not fail carefully to incul-cate.

Before spring Walter had united him-self to the visible church of Christ; andsoon found, in his growing love for thepeople of his choice, that minor differ-ences of opinion vanished be

Documents

(1864) Walter Martin: Or the Factory, the School and the Camp