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Updated: June 28, 2025
No wonder that they often turn out unfit for practical realities, and uncured of inveterate defects. The noble Immanuel Wichern felt this objection so forcibly, that his famous 'Rauhe Haus' institution is like a village of families, each homestead with its house-father and house-mother, and its twelve boys or girls, as the case may be.
Seventy years ago a great company of Christian men met in the old Luther town of Wittenberg to consider the needs of the Fatherland. It was the year of the Revolution. It was a time of political confusion and of desperate spiritual need. It was then that Wichern, in an address of impassioned eloquence, pointed the way toward the mobilization of all Christians in a campaign of spiritual service.
Whatever a pure and exquisite taste could conceive as becoming in a place consecrated to such a purpose, willing hands have executed; and early every Sabbath morning, Dr. Wichern says, the pupils resort hither to see that everything necessary is done to keep it in perfect order.
Even to-day, who would not rather be John Henry Wichern, the director of the Rauhe Haus at Horn, than Louis Napoleon, emperor of France?
Wichern, they came at once to him, with the impulsiveness of childhood, but with so evident a sense of propriety and decorum, that I would not but compare their conduct with that of many pupils in our best schools, and not to the advantage of the latter.
Two small lakes, whose borders were fringed with the willow, the weeping-elm, and the alder, glittered in the sunlight, their finny inhabitants occasionally leaping in the air, in joyous sport. Fourteen buildings were scattered over the demesne, one, by its spire, seeming to be devoted to purposes of worship. Wichern there."
Wichern thought not; the neglect of the earthly home of the dead resulted from the prevalence of indifference to the glorious doctrine of the Resurrection; and whatever a people might profess, he could not but believe them infidel at heart, if they were entirely neglectful of the resting-place of their dead.
Would that on our own side of the Atlantic a Wichern might arise, whose abilities should be sufficient to unite in one common purpose our reformatory enterprises, and rescue from infamy and sin the tens of thousands of children who now, apt scholars in crime, throng the purlieus of vice in our large cities, and are already committing deeds whose desperate wickedness might well cause hardened criminals to shudder.
"The postilion says that there is not a public house anywhere about," continued Coronini, in great distress. "He says that we will find nothing to eat in the village." Instead of making a reply, the emperor walked to the hillock, and questioned the postilion himself. "What is the name of the village beyond the forest?" asked he. "Wichern, your majesty." "Do we change horses there?"
"No, your majesty, we harness up at Unterbergen." "Can we get any breakfast at Wichern, think you?" "No, no, your majesty, not a morsel of any thing none but peasants live in the village." "Well, my friend, do the peasants live without eating?" "Oh, your majesty, they eat anything! They live on bread, bacon, eggs, and milk, with sometimes a mess of cabbage or beans."
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