Chapter IX.

Law, conscience, honor, all obeyed, all give The approving voice, and make it bliss to live; While faith, when life can nothing more supply, Shall strengthen hope and make it bliss to die.

The boys at Mettray are divided into families, each inhabiting a separate house inscribed with the name of certain towns, or of the generous giver. There is the "House of Paris," the "House of Limoges," the "House of the widow Hébert," and one is called the "House of Mary," in which the youngest children are placed. There were more than a dozen of these dwellings when our two culprits entered the colony, each directed by a Father and an Elder Brother, the inmates of each one emulating the inmates of the others in their progress to reformation, and every family considering itself a distinct brotherhood.

It was to the "House of Paris," that Marcel and Polycarpe were consigned; and what a new life began for these poor children when, after a short sequestration, so that at least the first elements of religion, order, and honesty might be instilled into their minds, they were permitted to associate with the older colonists, and take full part in their lessons and labors. Strange but sweet did it seem to Marcel when he first felt himself a member of a family, one among many brothers, where he was to find those ties and that affection refused to him hitherto. How soon he came to love his superiors, the Father and the Elder Brother, and how easy obedience was to him, can be readily imagined by those who have followed his fortunes so far. How fond and proud he grew after a while of his home--his saving ark--can only be conceived by those who have visited Mettray, and who have seen and heard with their own eyes and ears that every child there considers himself honored by the title of colonist, and bound in his own person to prove the worthiness of the community.

One of the first tasks of the newcomers was to learn the duties and discipline of the house.

"The colonists' duties are honorable," said the Father of the family to them the day after their arrival; "they resemble the soldiers; obedience to superiors and submission to discipline. Without discipline no association of men is possible. With it a nation may become invincible!"

To Marcel the discipline of Mettray was not only easy but even agreeable, and none could be more scrupulously observant of the regulations than he. At the first sound of the clarion which awoke the family each morning, he was out of his hammock and dressing himself with silent haste. Then, folding his bed and putting it away, he was ready to march with his companions to the wash-house. Here the ablutions were plentiful and thorough; for the boys at Mettray are taught that not only is cleanliness absolutely necessary to health, but that we are also more worthy to come in prayer before our Maker when purified and refreshed by his blessed gift of water.

The washing and combing finished, he returned with his brothers to the dormitory, to render thanks for the peaceful rest of the past night and to beg God's blessing on the labors of to-day. Then the clarion sounded again, and each ran to take his place in the ranks of workers about to march to their daily labors out of doors. Scarcely would they have been recognized by those they had left behind them in their old Paris haunts, as, clothed in their dark-blue blouses, their feet warm and dry in good sabots, their cheeks glowing with cleanliness and health, they marched in step, light and brisk, to their respective tasks. Some proceeded to the fields, where, superintended by an intelligent superior, they worked with a willing spirit, encouraged and strengthened by the sight of their teacher laboring with them. Some entered the out-houses fitted up as work-shops, where, while one learned tailoring on his brethren's clothes, another worked at his family's shoes. {356} A little farther on, and the young colonists reached the blacksmith's shop, where they hammered away manfully at the chains and rails, the gear of the carts, the locks and hinges, and all the other iron necessities of the place. And near by stood the carpenter's shop, where another band prepared all the wood-work of the colony, even to the doors and windows of the new houses to be built to receive other poor castaways.

Some again, whose turn it was to attend to the farm-yard, went on to the cow-house, where the cows lowed with content as they entered. And then began such a currying and cleansing that it would be difficult to say which enjoyed it the most, the boys or the cows. Cows are not accustomed to have so much attention bestowed on them; but the lads took pleasure in it, and each house had the privilege of participating in rotation, and the kine profited wonderfully. After the cows came the turn of the pigs, the horses, and the donkeys, the latter great favorites generally. And then the dairy with its pans of yesterday's milk thick with cream, to be skimmed, and then butter-making and cheese-making.

And thus worked the once idle, quarrelsome boys until the welcome hour of breakfast summoned them within. The simple but wholesome meal finished, after a short pause the thanksgiving was said, and a quarter of an hour's recreation permitted, and then at the first blast of the clarion they left their play, formed their ranks, and gayly marched off to labor again. As they passed the Director on their way out, they greeted him respectfully and affectionately, their bright and _now honest_ eyes becoming still brighter as he returned their salutation with a kind word and fatherly smile.

Marvellous change, operated by the force of enlightened charity alone, by a few devoted men and women! For there were at Mettray no manacles nor blows for the refractory; no prison-walls to keep in the discontented, lazy, thief, or beggar; only labor and religious influence, justice and love, ever working together to repair the ravages that sin and ignorance had wrought in the consciences of these forlorn ones, and endeavoring to extirpate even the very germ of evil in their souls.

The day of healthful toil in the woods, fields, and workshops ended at six o'clock, when the clarion's clear voice again summoned the young laborers, this time to school, whither they marched in regimental order preceded by a band of military music.

The school-rooms were large, well-ventilated chambers, their white walls bearing the inscription, "Dieu vous voit," God sees you, oft-repeated, and decorated with lists, "tablets of honor," containing the names of those boys who had for three months gained an immunity from all punishment. Many of these names had become "fixtures," they had been there so long; for the erasure of a name is considered by the colonists as a great disgrace, while its continuance on the tablet is an honor.

Here during two hours, aided by kind, intelligent teachers, the boys learned reading, writing, arithmetic, singing, and linear drawing. The more advanced helped to teach the beginners, and with few exceptions proved themselves patient, painstaking tutors.

To Marcel these hours of instruction were the best and sweetest recreation. The boy seemed to yearn after knowledge, and the progress he made was really surprising. He was even after a while able to undertake to teach a class of new-comers to read, and proud and happy was he the day this honorable task was assigned to him!

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But music especially soon became his greatest source of pleasure. It soothed, cheered, and elevated him; it awakened in him the tenderest and highest sentiments. It saddened him, too, sometimes, but that was a solemn sadness that refined rather than depressed the boy's sensitive nature. The patriotic songs taught in the school roused his enthusiasm and inspired him with the most ardent love of his country. The soft strains of the simple catechism-hymns he and his brothers sang when the good chaplain prepared them for their first communion entered into his inmost heart, bringing peace and hope. But deep, very deep was his emotion when they sang some of those pieces composed expressly for them, and bearing reference to their past or present state. How his heart swelled when he joined his voice, high and sweet, to his fellow castaways, as they chaunted--

"Droop not, though _shame, sin_, and _anguish_ are round thee; Bravely fling off the cold chain that hath bound thee; Look at yon pure heaven smiling beyond thee; Rest not content in thy darkness a clod. _Work_ for some good--be it ever so slowly, Cherish some flower--be it ever so lowly. Let thy good deeds be a prayer to thy God."

How every stirring line re-echoed in his inmost soul, awakening there gratitude so deep and full to all those who had rescued him from sin that no language could have expressed it. We are told that there is "joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth;" how many blessings, then, must rest on the heads of those who have conducted sinning _children_ to repentance--children whom he loves and wishes to be brought to him.

Two hours of school and the clarion sounded for supper. The repast over, after five minutes' play the refectory was converted into a dormitory by suspending the hammocks, and then came the evening prayer and hymn. The day was ended, and our orphan and his companions climbed into their clean beds, to sleep peacefully under the protection of that Heavenly Father who had permitted them in his inscrutable wisdom to bear the brunt of the battle while unprepared, but had saved them, scotched and bleeding, it is true, yet still with vitality enough to recover from their wounds, and fight again, and win at last--if they would!