Satan or Beelzebub, disguised as a man? The stranger seemingly understood his bewilderment; for he smiled again, and resumed: "Be not troubled or amazed, if your name has reached me; if I have learned whom you are by the description given me of your person and your eccentric habits, what is there surprising in all that? It is not without reason that renown has a hundred eyes and a trumpet. Yes, my dear Mr. Sebaltus, you are well known to me. To see you and to sympathize with you, I have come here; this is the sole object of my journey." The scholar stammered out those sentences: "You are very goodyou are very kind." His interlocutor had the charity to spare his confusion by asking him: "What book have you there?" At this question Master Sebaltus's countenance lit up with enthusiasm; for it was a subject that afforded him more charm than aught else. "This book," exclaimed he, "is the master-piece of all historical master-works. It is a Tacitus, editio accuratissima. It cost me a great sum of money, but what satisfaction it gives me; how those pages, overflowing with true eloquence, delight me! Never was human thought expressed in language more concise, more deep, more sublime. O! venerable Roman! I am happy with thee; tribulations, the universe, all vanish. I am thy contemporary, thy friend. I adore thee as an everlasting genius." The stranger judged it time to interrupt the enthusiasm of Sebaltus, the expression of which might be indefinitely prolonged. "I admire the intensity of your feelings," said he, "meanwhile, you must not shun modern genius. The present time has produced men of true merit you, for instance." 5 At this significant and abrupt flattery, the scholar was stung with an indignation, to which he gave utterance by "Indeed, sir. what is your name ?" "Hanz." "Indeed, Mr. Hanz, if you had not the demeanor of a grave and respectable looking man, I should be inclined to think you had come here with the intention of jibing me, however, I excuse you. But how could you conceive the idea of naming me, poor miserable being, after a man of the colossal fame of Tacitus." "Pardon me, my dear Mr. Se- . baltus; do not take things so seriously, and excuse me if I have offended you." "Well, no!" cried Spurdzer with bonhommie, "you did not offend me, you frightened me, that's all. And to give you a proof that I am disposed to answer your questions, I beg of you to accept part of my frugal breakfast." "I cannot think of refusing your kind invitation." "You accept, then ?" "Thanks! oh a thousand thanks! how pleased my wife will be. Then I shall show you my two sons, both clever Latinists." "Well, let us go." "Patience, Mr. Hanz, it is yet too soon, and whilst we await the hour, let us enjoy the beauty of this spot; I shall sit here on this mossy bank and read the life of Julius Agricola; you can fish, and thus while away the time." This ingenuous proposition excited in Hanz a Homeric laughter. "I speak seriously," added Spurdzer, without seeming to notice the loud hilarity of his new friend, "fishing is a wholesome exercise which does not disturb the current of one's thoughts. There, in the hollow of that tree, are all my implements-will you have them?" "Well," said Hanz, "let us attack the gudgeons." There, now, are our two interlo cutors occupied; Hanz, apparently with his fishing: master Sebaltus in reality with his Tacitus. Hanz had rested the top of his rod in the sand of the shore, and cast, with curiosity, a furtive glance towards the scholar, who, absorbed in the depths of his folio, repeatedly exclaimed, "beautiful! admirable! prodigious! Where are those modern men who write like this? Hanz, my friend, you are mad." We could not quote the quarter of all the incoherent phrases to which Spurdzer's enthusiasm gave utterance. Hanz, who was much amused with this scene, turned abruptly towards the water, that seemed suddenly agitated. "Master Sebaltus," said he, come, come, I think I must have taken a carp." "That is so. Let me draw it out. It requires caution. What a fine fish! Beyond all doubt Thecla will be delighted. Now, then, Mr. Hanz, to you the honor of carrying the fruit of your pastime." Thus did the scholar, with his book under his arm, and the stranger, with basket in hand, enter the village and knock at the school door, where about thirty children were boisterously shouting and playing. Thecla appeared. Her face, formerly pretty, was now coarse and flushed, and expressive of the ill-humor which was the principal trait of her character. The peevish manner with which the housewife received her husband and his guest, did not belie the expression of her face. The fish, however, was a means of silencing her, making up for the dissatisfaction she felt at the sight of a stranger. During breakfast Master Sebaltus more than once tried his wife's patience by calling out, "bring us some of your best wine. . . . There is better wine than that in the cellar... You forget, too, that fine smoked ham that is hanging on a beam in our bedroom. Go, make more haste, and be more hospitable." Hanz, who noted everything, felt pleased at Madam Thecla's displeasure, and the more she showed regret at the sight of so large a consumption, the greater was the guest's appetite. The two little Spurdzers, Ovid and Cicero, placed on the right and left of the stranger, had answered in a satisfactory manner all questions addressed to them. They clearly understood syntax, and were well versed in all the beauties of prosody. They did not know one monument in Dresden, but on the other hand they could number on the top of their fingers the obelisks and the pyramids of Egyptian Thebes; they ignored the events of the present time, but retained wonderfully the numbers of Xerxes' soldiers. Spurdzer's eyes glowed with the fire of paternal pride. After breakfast the stranger took leave of his hosts, and then the conjugal storm commenced. At the approach of night peace was not yet restored, but Sebaltus resisted his wife's attacks by stoically following the example of Socrates towards Xantippe. Suddenly a carriage was heard to stop before the door. A man dressed in black silk, and carrying a sword, alighted, entered, and asked for Mr. Spurdzer, who stood amazed as the stranger gave him a large letter, stamped with the seal of the arms of his majesty, the Elector of Saxony. "If you please, sir," said the Chamberlain, " read that letter." Master Sebaltus glanced at the epistle, and no sooner had he read the first lines than he uttered an exclamation and called his wife and his sons. "Come, come, my children," said he; "come! if you knew! . . . . His highness has written to me; his highness in per son. . . . . But how can our august sovereign know me?" "Read attentively, Mr. Spurdzer," said the Chamberlain, and you will understand the contents." With difficulty did the emotioned pedagogue read what follows: "MY DEAR SEBALTUS: Long since has your literary and scientific reputation reached me. Your works, successfully published, have placed you high in the esteem of the public.. "My works! . . . . My reputation! . . . . Which of us two is dreaming, the prince, or myself? My works, stowed away in a port folio. My reputation as schoolmaster! . . . Let us continue." "They vouch for your deep learning, your simplicity, your modesty, and that you aspire to no other title but that of village schoolmaster. I went myself in search of the truth. I desired to become personally acquainted with the philosopher of Lauterbruck. This will explain to you the visit you this morning received." "Heavens!" exclaimed simultaneously Spurdzer and his wife, "Mr. Hanz was the prince!" "Having heard of your habits, I met you at your favorite spot near the borders of the Elbe. We conversed, and while I breakfasted with you, I studied you. . . . "Who would have thought? Mr. Hanz... A fine, brave fellow! Wife, were you disrespectful towards him ?" 66 No, no; continue. I'm impatient to hear all." "In a word, my dear Sebaltus, you are the man whom I think suitable to educate my sons, Otho and Frederick." "Heavens!” cried Madame Spurdzer, clasping her hands; "read on." "I cannot," murmured the schoolmaster, trembling with emotion. "Well, then," replied Madame Spurdzer, "give me the letter and I'll finish it." . . . " to educate my sons, Otho and Frederick." "Worthy Sovereign!" "I have tried ten tutors. Not one was equal to the task which demands so many noble qualities science, resolution, and disinterestedness. The acquaintance of a few hours has sufficed to assure me that I can in confidence choose you as the tutor of my two sons. Come, without delay; the Count de Pilnitz is charged to offer you my carriage. Your apartments in my Chateau are at your disposal. Come, then; later I shall place your sons in college. I send to your wife a sum necessary for her household wants-a sum apart from your own salary. Answer me in confidence, and have no cause of regret. you will "Yours, affectionately, "LOUIS FREDERICK." It was curious to observe in the countenance of Thecla, and in that of Spurdzer, the double effect of this letter. Thecla could not believe in such happiness; Spurdzer was stunned; the one considered fortune, honors; the other feared the ennui of dependence. However, as Madame Spurdzer's will generally predominated, it was to be supposed that Sebaltus would sacrifice his own happiness for hers. In face of the brilliant position now offered to him, he stood as the accused before his judges, mute, fearful, abashed. He would have gladly resigned his Latin for the displeasure of the prince; and he had to yield to a superior will manifested in so friendly a way! 66 "What!" said Thecla, sharply, can you hesitate a moment to accept such a splendid offer? Think well, that our children's welfare depends on your decision. If you are a good father, you will not hearken to vain scruples of unfounded fear, and you will hasten to thank our prince for his goodness." "Do you really wish it ?" said Sebaltus, with a mingled sadness and timidity. "It is not my wish, but it is your duty that should impel you." "Then, if that be so," resumed the pedagogue, "I resign myself." And turning towards the Count de Pilnitz, he added: THE AN AMERICAN KINDERGARTEN. HE subjoined sprightly account of the scenes and events of "A Day in a Kindergarten," is compiled from a letter of the Boston correspondent of the N. Y. Evening Post. The narrative refers to the institution established by Miss E. P. Peabody, in 1861, and now so successfully conducted by that estimable bythat lady. It cannot fail to be very suggestive to parents and primary teachers. THE PRINCIPLE OF A KINDERGARTEN-literally a children's garden, is the training of the infant mind as the gardener trains his plants or cultivates his flowers; it is the organization of what is prettily called a commonwealth of children, where the imagination and the moral and physical nature of the young are equally subjected to careful culture, gradually developing under the warmth and sunlight of a watchful sympathy, until the grosser qualities become refined into the essence of beauty. The secret of this training lies in the faculty of "developing a child from within outwards, by plunging into its peculiarity of imagination and feeling" realizing the child's idea until. it seems to become a fact tangible and present. If the little one conceives an imaginary railroad, the Kindergarten teacher accepts its rude blocks as veritable cars and engines, and the child gets a practical lesson. If it learns the gamut, there is an illustration which teaches the theory of music; and all through the system of instruction, there is not only this sympathy between teacher and pupil, but also a similar sympathy among the pupils themselves. "Children," observes Miss Peaand she has added from the stores body, "begin with loving others;" of her own experience among the young, this aphorism of a wise philosophy: "Children begin with loving others quite as intensely as they love themselves-forgetting themselves in their love of others if they only have as fair a chance of being benevolent and self-sacrificing as of being selfish. Sympathy is as much a natural instinct as self-love, and no more or less innocent, in a moral point of view. Either principle alone makes an ugly and depraved form of natural character. Balanced, they give the element of happiness, and the conditions of spiritual goodness and truth, making children fit temples for the Holy Ghost to dwell in." KINDERGARTEN CHILDREN IN SCHOOL-ROOM. THE The life of a child in a Kindergarten is certainly very pleasant. Of the thirty-six little pupils row belonging to this school, thirty were 1864.] An American Kindergarten. present on the day of my visit. The youngest was three and a half years old, and the oldest seven. The average age was probably five years. They were evidently the children of cultivated parents. Large-brained, quick-eyed and intelligent, their manner was full of animation, and their interest in the things taught them never flagged for an instant. Unlike children in the old "infant schools," these little creatures had comfortable armchairs to sit in, and were not wearied by constrained postures, or by long continuance upon one subject; for no lesson is permitted to exceed fifteen minutes, except one, to be hereafter mentioned, where work and play together occupy half an hour. Every morning the exercises commence with music. A teacher, sitting at a grand piano, placed in a corner of the principal school-room, strikes the notes of the gamut, while another draws upon a blackboard the figure of a ladder with eight rounds numbered from one to eight. "Now, children, let your voices go up this ladder-one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight!" and the scale is sung. The little ones hear and see what music means. Those who are more advanced learn to sing simple little lays; such as "The Fisher," "The Cooper," "The Sawyer," "The Weathercock," "The Bees," and "The Rover," one of which is a carol like this: We like to go a-roving, From place to place a-moving; We hear the warblers singing, It is amazing to see the enjoyment of the little folks while this morning musical exercise is going on. Their eyes gleam with delight, their shrill little voices tone down to a melodious rhythm, and when the music teacher rises she is evi dently regarded as a person bent upon disappointing reasonable expectations. But the quarter of an hour is up, and the classes must be formed. The smallest children are taken into a room where long low tables flanked by little wooden armchairs, afford space for the operations incident to a course of instruction in object-lessons. In developing this branch of her system, Miss Peabody acknowledges her indebtedness to the excellent works of Mr. Sheldon and Mr. Calkins. The study of natural forms, the copying of rudimentary figures, and the general cultivation of the artistic element, which form part of the plan of a Kindergarten, are attended with the happiest effects. The child, even if naturally dull, receives impressions which stimulate its ambition, and those who are quick to learn get on so fast that it is often necessary to apply the checkrein. DEVICES FOR AMUSEMENT AND IN STRUCTION. One of the ingenious devices introduced here is the "pricking" of the forms of birds and animals. Half-sheets of tinted paper, with embossed borders, bearing a colored pattern, are given to the children, with a needle attached, and the little one is very proud when it is permitted to take home the punctured copy which it has made by carefully following the outlines of the object represented. Another amusement, which cultivates the sense of harmony in colors, while it teaches precision of touch, is "weaving." Narrow strips of card-board of different colors, are handed to the children to be woven into patterns according to their fancy; and sometimes very pretty little devices are the result of this play-work. Still another pastime is "mould |
