Labour undoubtedly makes men firm and enduring, and it more especially serves the egotistic interests of men of sound capacity; but to any one whose vocation it is to be employed for the benefit of others, the service will be consecrated by a feeling of duty. Every employment which is capable of maintaining life gives man also a position. The journeyman is the official of his master, the housewife has the office of the keys, and every work develops even in the smallest circle a domain of moral duties. The German has never been deficient in a feeling of the duties of home and of his trade. There always have been citizens who were not only ready to die for their city, but who have sometimes passed a life of self-sacrifice for it. The Reformation elevated the feeling of duty to a higher domain of earthly action and the self-denial and self-sacrifice of the pious shepherd of souls should always be highly esteemed; but on closer observation, we perceive that the foundation of this more elevated feeling of duty was more especially of a religious nature. It was the command of God which men sought to obey; where the Scripture did not command with powerful voice, the feeling for the universal good was not so strongly developed, and the perception of the duties of their own position was uncertain.

It is instructive to notice that it was the armies brought together by the war which first raised the citizen's idea of the duties of his calling. The soldier's feeling of honour not only developed itself in a noble esprit de corps, but became the source gradually of official honour in the citizen. First of all it gave him honour in the eyes of others when he fulfilled his duty, but also it afforded himself internal satisfaction and a just pride. Thus after the fidelity of the middle ages and the piety of the Reformation there arose a new domain of moral requirements. There was more of feeling than of the result of thought in it, but it was still an advance; though at first indeed only among the best.

Two years after the paternal admonitions of Herr Burgomaster Schulte to his son, at a little distance south of Lisbon, the life of a Hamburger was put an end to by a fearful catastrophe. The account of it is given in an old narrative.

Berend Jacob Carpfanger was one of the captains at Hamburg. He was born in that city in 1623; he got his schooling, as was the custom, in the merchant service; he early became a member of the admiralty, and at last as captain of convoys, commander of one of the vessels of war which had to defend the merchantmen against pirates. These marine officers of the city, besides having to exercise the highest official control in their fleet, had to perform diplomatic negotiations in the harbours, and sometimes were sent for the same purpose to foreign courts. It was necessary for them to have some practice in business, and to know how to associate with great lords, so as to maintain the honour and fame of their city. Carpfanger was considered in his city an elegant, smart man, who knew better than most how to conduct himself. He had an earnest countenance, almost melancholy, a high forehead, large eyes, and a chin and mouth of great power. His health appeared rather less strong than was desirable in a seaman. He had given proof that he understood how to conduct a sea-fight, and had often been in bloody actions. For the Barbary pirates still continued their depredations both on sea and land. Not only in galleys, but in large frigates did these birds of prey bear down upon the swarm of commercial vessels. It was just at that period that the 'Hund' was the terror of European seas. Far over the channel, from Gibraltar onwards, on the great ocean, nay, on the coasts of the Northern Sea, his swift vessels made their appearance; dreadful were the harbour tales of their temerity, violence, and bloodthirstiness. In the year 1662, a squadron of eight Hamburg merchantmen had become the booty of these "barbarians."

In 1674, the burgomaster of the admiralty girded the silver sword on Captain Carpfanger, and handed to him the admiral's staff. Then the seaman swore before the senate, that he would manfully defend the fleet intrusted to him, and sacrifice everything, body and soul, rather than abandon his ship.

During the ten years that passed after that, up to his death, he made an annual voyage, starting with his fleet in the Spring and returning home in August. He had many severe struggles with storm and waves, and often complained how unfavourable the elements were to him.

Thus he went to Cadiz and Malaga, to the Northern frozen ocean, and to Lisbon. From an expedition to Greenland, his fleet of fifty vessels brought home a booty of five hundred and fifty whales. Once when returning home he was attacked at the north of the Elbe by five French privateers; in the course of a twelve hours' fight he sent two to the bottom by his shot, and they sank before his eyes with every man and mouse on board, the remainder escaped to the open sea. He was also engaged with the Brandenburg privateers. It happened that the admiral's red flag of Hamburg floated on the gaff of the Besan threateningly against the red eagle of Brandenburg; for in 1679 the great Elector was not favourably disposed towards the Hamburgers, and his little vessels of war had already captured many of theirs. The opponents met, but Carpfanger had strict instructions to keep on the defensive, therefore it came to a good issue. The large ship inspired the Brandenburgers with respect; they sent the long-boat with two officers to salute him, and "in order to inspect the arrangements of the ship." The Hamburger regaled them with wine in his cabin, and then they politely took leave. Their vessel fired a salute, which Carpfanger answered with equal courtesy, and then both sailed away.

Again the captain on one of his voyages met with a fleet of Spanish galleons in fight with Turkish pirates. The combat was taking an unfavourable turn for the Spaniards; some heavy galleons had been cut out and overpowered by the pirates. Carpfanger attacked the pirates, and by a broadside freed the Spanish vessels. He was on this account invited to the court of Charles II., and presented by the king with a golden chain of honour.

When in August he exchanged the winds and waves for the narrow streets of the old city, even there little rest was allowed him. First there were disputes with the senate about expenses, a writing of reports, the vindication of particular arrangements which did not appear clear to the gentlemen of the council table, or injured some private interest, and all the vexations of the counting office which are so hateful to the seaman. For there is no lack of petty trading spirit in old Hamburg. In the winter of 1680, his dear wife died in the prime of life.

Again and again he convoyed merchantmen to Cadiz and Malaga: in 1683 he commanded the frigate 'The Arms of Hamburg.' The passage had been lengthened by a storm, and a leaking vessel in the fleet, but it had already been made known at the Hamburg Exchange that the captain was about to return from Spain viâ the Isle of Wight. Then there came instead of him, sorrowful tidings. These will be here given; it is an example of the old method by which news was rapidly spread.