Honor to whom honor is due. We have paid it, in some measure, to
the primitive Gaels of the Highlands for their warrior strength
and their fealty, and to the enlightened Scots of Ulster for
their enterprise and for their sacrifice unto blood that free
conscience and just laws might promote the progress and safeguard
the intercourse of their kind. Now let us take up for a moment
Brother Grube's "Journal" even as we welcome, perhaps the more
gratefully, the mild light of evening after the flooding sun, or
as our hearts, when too strongly stirred by the deeds of men,
turn for rest to the serene faith and the naive speech of little
children.

The twelve, we learn, were under the leadership of one of their
number, Brother Gottlob. Their earliest alarms on the march were
not caused, as we might expect, by anticipations of the painted
Cherokee, but by encounters with the strenuous "Irish." One of
these came and laid himself to sleep beside the Brethren's camp
fire on their first night out, after they had sung their evening
hymn and eleven had stretched themselves on the earth for
slumber, while Brother Gottlob, their leader, hanging his hammock
between two trees, ascended--not only in spirit--a little higher
than his charges, and "rested well in it." Though the alarming
Irishman did not disturb them, the Brethren's doubts of that race
continued, for Brother Grube wrote on the 14th of October: "About
four in the morning we set up our tent, going four miles beyond
Carl Isles [Carlisle, seventeen miles southwest of Harrisburg] so
as not to be too near the Irish Presbyterians. After breakfast
the Brethren shaved and then we rested under our tent....