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Then Another Man Named Thomas Took The Fatal Grazing License,  But He

Did Not Live On The Land.  He Placed His Brother In Charge Of It,  To

Be Out Of The Way Of Temptation,  As He Was Too Fond Of Liquor.  The

Brother Was Not Allowed The Use Of A Boat; He,  With His Wife And

Family,  Was Virtually A Prisoner,  Condemned To Sobriety.  But By This

Time A Lighthouse Had Been Erected,  And Watts The Keeper Of It Had A

Boat,  And Was,  Moreover,  Fond Of Liquor.  The Two Men Soon Became

Firm Friends,  And Often Found It Necessary To Make Voyages To Port

Albert For Flour,  Or Tea,  Or Sugar.  The Last Time They Sailed

Together The Barometer Was Low,  And A Gale Was Brewing.  When They

Left The Wharf They Had Taken On Board All The Stores They Required,

And More; They Were Happy And Glorious.  Next Day The Masthead Of

Their Boat Was Seen Sticking Out Of The Water Near Sunday Island.

The Pilot Schooner Went Down And Hauled The Boat To The Surface,  But

Nothing Was Found In Her Except The Sand-Ballast And A Bottle Of Rum.

Her Sheet Was Made Fast,  And When The Squall Struck Her She Had Gone

Down Like A Stone.  The Isle Of Blasted Hopes Was Useless Even As An

Asylum For Inebriates.

 

The 'Ecliptic' Was Carrying Coals From Newcastle.  The Time Was

Midnight,  The Sky Was Misty,  And The Gale Was From The South-East,

When The Watch Reported A Light Ahead.  The Cabin Boy Was Standing On

Deck Near The Captain,  When He Held A Consultation With His Mate,  Who

Was Also His Son.  Father And Son Agreed; They Said The Light Ahead

Was The One On Kent's Group,  And Then The Vessel Grounded Amongst The

Breakers.  The Seamen Stripped Off Their Heavy Clothing,  And Went

Overboard; The Captain And His Son Plunged In Together And Swam Out

Of Sight.  There Were Nine Men In The Water,  While The Cabin Boy

Stood Shivering On Deck.  He,  Too,  Had Thrown Away His Clothes,  All

But The Wrist-Bands Of His Shirt,  Which In His Flurry He Could Not

Unbutton.  He Could Not Make Up His Mind To Jump Overboard.  He Heard

The Men In The Water Shouting To One Another,  "Make For The Light."

That Course Led Them Away From The Nearest Land,  Which They Could Not

See.  At Length A Great Sea Swept The Boy Among The Breakers,  But His

Good Angel Pushed A Piece Of Timber Within Reach,  And He Held On To

It Until He Could Feel The Ground With His Feet; He Then Let The

Timber Go,  And Scrambled Out Of Reach Of The Angry Surge; But When He

Came To The Dry Sand He Fainted And Fell Down.  When He Recovered His

Senses He Began To Look For Shelter; There Was A Signal Station Not

Far Off,  But He Could Not See It.  He Went Away From The Pitiless Sea

Through An Opening Between Low Conical Hills,  Covered With Dark

Scrub,  Over A Pathway Composed Of Drift Sand And Broken Shells.  He

Found An Old Hut Without A Door. There Was No One In It; He Went

Inside,  And Lay Down Shivering.

 

At Daybreak A Boy,  The Son Of Ratcliff,  The Signal Man,  Started Out

To Look For His Goats,  And As They Sometimes Passed The  Night In The

Old Fowlhouse,  He Looked In For Them.  But Instead Of The Goats,  He

Saw The Naked Cabin Boy.  "Who Are You?" He Said,  "And What Are You

Doing Here,  And Where Did You Come From?"

 

"I Have Been Shipwrecked," Replied The Cabin Boy; And Then He Sat Up

And Began To Cry.

 

Story 9 (The Isle Of Blasted Hopes.) Pg 160

Young Ratcliff Ran Off To Tell His Father What He Had Found; And The

Boy Was Brought To The Cottage,  Put To Bed,  And Supplied With Food

And Drink.  The Signal For A Wreck Was  Hoisted At The Flagstaff,  But

When The Signallman Went To Look For A Wreck He Could Not Find One.

He Searched Along The Shore And Found The Dead Body Of The Captain,

And A Piece Of Splintered Spar Seven Or Eight Feet Long,  On Which The

Cabin Boy Had Come Ashore.  The 'Ecliptic',  With Her Cargo And Crew,

Had Completely Disappeared,  While The Signalman,  Near At Hand,  Slept

Peacefully,  Undisturbed By Her Crashing Timbers,  Or The Shouts Of The

Drowning Seamen.  Ratcliff Was Not A Seer,  And Had  No Mystical Lore.

He Was A Einingen," Written In The Year 1827,  But Never

Completed,  And In All Probability Never Sent To The Sovereign Whose Name

It Bears. That This Is The Course Froebel Would Himself Have Preferred

Will,  We Think,  Become Quickly Apparent To The Reader. Besides,  In The

Boyhood And The Earliest Experiences Of Froebel's Life,  We Find The

Sources Of His Whole Educational System. That Other Children Might Be

Better Understood Than He Was,  That Other Children Might Have The Means

To Live The True Child-Life That Was Denied To Himself,  And That By

Their Powers Being Directed Into The Right Channels,  These Children

Might Become A Blessing To Themselves And To Others,  Was Undoubtedly In

Great Part The Motive Which Induced Froebel To Describe So Fully All The

Circumstances Of His Peculiar Childhood. We Should Undoubtedly Have A

Clearer Comprehension Of Many A Great Reformer If He Had Taken The

Trouble To Write Out At Length The Impressions Of His Life's Dawn,  As

Froebel Has Done. In Froebel's Particular Case,  Moreover,  It Is Evident

That Although His Account Of Himself Is Unfinished,  We Fortunately

Possess All That Is Most Important For The Understanding Of The Origin

Of The Kindergarten System. After The "Letter To The Duke Of Meiningen,"

We Have Placed The Shorter Account Of His Life Which Froebel Included In

A Letter To The Philosopher Krause. A Sketch Of Barop's,  Which Varies

The Point Of View By Regarding The Whole Movement More In Its Outer

Aspect Than Even Froebel Himself Is Able To Do,  Seemed To Us Also

Desirable To Translate; And Finally We Have Added Also A Carefully

Prepared "Chronology" Extended From Lange's List. Our Translation Is

Made From The Edition Of Froebel's Works Published By Dr. Wichard Lange

At Berlin In 1862.

 

                                                       Emilie Michaelis.

                                                       H. Keatley Moore.

The Croydon Kindergarten,

_January 1886_.

 

 

 

 

Story 10 (Autobiography Of Froebel.) Pg 161

I Was Born At Oberweissbach,  A Village In The Thuringian Forest,  In The

Small Principality Of Schwarzburg-Rudolstadt,  On The 21st April,  1782.

My Father Was The Principal Clergyman,  Or Pastor,  There.[1] (He Died In

1802.) I Was Early Initiated Into The Conflict Of Life Amidst Painful

And Narrowing Circumstances; And Ignorance Of Child-Nature And

Insufficient Education Wrought Their Influence Upon Me. Soon After My

Birth My Mother's Health Began To Fail,  And After Nursing Me Nine Months

She Died. This Loss,  A Hard Blow To Me,  Influenced The Whole Environment

And Development Of My Being: I Consider That My Mother's Death Decided

More Or Less The External Circumstances Of My Whole Life.

 

The Cure Of Five Thousand Souls,  Scattered Over Six Or Seven Villages,

Devolved Solely On My Father. This Work,  Even To A Man So Active As My

Father,  Who Was Very Conscientious In The Fulfilment Of His Duty As

Minister,  Was All-Absorbing; The More So Since The Custom Of Frequent

Services Still Prevailed. Besides All This,  My Father Had Undertaken To

Superintend The Building Of A Large New Church,  Which Drew Him More And

More From His Home And From His Children.

 

I Was Left To The Care Of The Servants; But They,  Profiting By My

Father's Absorption In His Work,  Left Me,  Fortunately For Me,  To My

Brothers,  Who Were Somewhat Older Than Myself.[2] This,  In Addition

To A Circumstance Of My Later Life,  May Have Been The Cause Of That

Unswerving Love For My Family,  And Especially For My Brothers,  Which

Has,  To The Present Moment,  Been Of The Greatest Importance To Me In

The Conduct Of My Life. Although My Father,  For A Village Pastor,  Was

Unusually Well Informed--Nay,  Even Learned And Experienced--And Was An

Incessantly Active Man,  Yet In Consequence Of This Separation From Him

During My Earliest Years I Remained A Stranger To Him Throughout My

Life; And In This Way I Was As Truly Without A Father As Without A

Mother. Amidst Such Surroundings I Reached My Fourth Year. My Father

Then Married Again,  And Gave Me A ,  Fond Of Order,  And Determined To Improve Their Dwelling

In Every Possible Way. I Had To Help Them According To My Capacity,  And

Soon Perceived That I Thereby Gained Strength And Experience; While

Through This Growth Of Strength And Experience My Own Games And

Occupations Became Of Greater Value To Me.

 

But From My Life In The Open Air Amongst The Objects Of Nature,  And From

The Externals Of Domestic Life,  I Must Now Turn To The Inner Aspects Of

My Home And Family.

 

My Father Was A Theologian Of The Old School,  Who Held Knowledge And

Science In Less Estimation Than Faith; But Yet He Endeavoured To Keep

Pace With The Times. For This Purpose He Subscribed To The Best

Periodicals He Could Obtain,  And Carefully Examined What Information

They Offered Him. This Helped Not A Little To Elevate And Enlighten The

Old-Fashioned Truly Christian Life Which Reigned In Our Family. Morning

And Evening All Its Members Gathered Together,  And Even On Sunday As

Well,  Although On That Day Divine Service Would Of Course Also Call Upon

Us To Assemble For Common Religious Worship. Zollikofer,  Hermes,

Marezoll,  Sturm,  And Others,  Turned Our Thoughts,  In Those Delightful

Hours Of Heavenly Meditation,  Upon Our Innermost Being,  And Served To

Quicken,  Unfold,  And Raise Up The Life Of The Soul Within Us. Thus My

Story 10 (Autobiography Of Froebel.) Pg 162

Life Was Early Brought Under The Influence Of Nature,  Of Useful

Handiwork,  And Of Religious Feelings; Or,  As I Prefer To Say,  The

Primitive And Natural Inclinations Of Every Human Being Were Even In My

Case Also Tenderly Fostered In The Germ. I Must Mention Here,  With

Reference To My Ideas Regarding The Nature Of Man,  To Be Treated Of

Later,  And As Throwing Light Upon My Professional And Individual Work,

That At This Time I Used Repeatedly,  And With Deep Emotion,  To Resolve

To Try And Be A Good And Brave Man. As I Have Heard Since,  This Firm

Inward Resolution Of Mine Was In Flagrant

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