"Now will I tell to sinners round,What a dear Saviour I have found."
"Now will I tell to sinners round,What a dear Saviour I have found."
Thetime had come for Miss Layton to leave S——, as she had only taken the school for the summer term, and there was a male teacher engaged for the winter. Poor Ella was greatly distressed at the thought of losing her friend. "O Miss Layton," said she, "what shall I do when you are gone? I will have nobody to help me to be good, and nobody to love me."
"Yes, Ella, your aunt loves you very much indeed; she told me so herself."
"Did she?" exclaimed Ella, looking up in astonishment, "I thought she didn't like me at all. She never kisses me, nor tells me she loves me, like mamma used to do, and she's always scolding me and tellingme what a troublesome child I am. Are yousureshe loves me, Miss Layton?"
"Yes, Ellie,quitesure, and you must try to believe it and to love her in return. She means it all for your good when she scolds you, and you must try to bear it patiently."
"O Miss Layton," sobbed Ella, "howcanI ever be good when you are gone?"
"And why should you not, Ellie, just as well as when I am here?"
"Because you're patient and kind, and you seem pleased, and praise me when I do right."
"Ah Ella, don't you remember the other day you told me you thought you had been trying to please God all these weeks that you have been so good, and I told you then that I was afraid you were only trying to please me? And now, my dear child, do you not see that I was right? A desire to please your friends, Ella, is a good motive,but it is not the best. You must learn to do right because itisright, and pleasing in the sight of God. It is easy to deceive our friends and ourselves, but we cannot deceive God. He looks at the motives—at the feelings and desires of the heart, while we can see only the outward conduct. Dear Ella, I wish I could see you a child of God, striving to please him in all your ways."
"I do mean to try to be good when you're gone, Miss Layton; but I know I can't."
"Not if you try in your own strength, Ella; but you must ask help of God. Ask him to give you a new heart, my child—a heart that will hate sin, because it is so displeasing to him—a heart loving holiness, and earnestly desiring to please and glorify God. And if you ask these things with your whole heart, and in the name and for the sake of Jesus Christ, God will hear andgrant your petitions, for he says, 'Ask and ye shall receive; seek and ye shall find; knock and it shall be opened unto you.' And he tells us that he is more willing to give his Holy Spirit to them that ask him, than parents are to give good gifts unto their children.
"You try to pleaseme, Ella, because you love me; but, O my child, how much more ought you to love your Saviour! I have shown you a little kindness, but what is that compared with what Jesus has done for you? Think how he left that beautiful heaven, and came down to our little world, and suffered, and bled, and died, that he might save you and me. O Ella, how can we help loving him with all our hearts, and striving to please him every moment of our lives! 'Herein is love; not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and gave his Son to be the propitiation for our sins.'"
In a few weeks, Mr. Crane, the newteacher, came, and school commenced again. Mr. Crane proved to be very much such a teacher as Mr. Burton, though perhaps not quite so severe. Unfortunately, Ella was not at all disposed to like him, nor indeed anybody who took Miss Layton's place; and he seemed to take a dislike to her from the first. Sallie Barnes, too, went to school again, and seeming to dislike Ella more than ever, was continually trying to get her into trouble. There would have been constant quarrelling between them, had not Mary Young acted as peace-maker, and done her best to keep them apart. Mary tried to take Miss Layton's place to Ella, and did all she could to encourage her to industry and attention; and she often talked to her of the love of Christ, trying to lead her to the Saviour, and telling her of the happiness she had found in his service. Still it was a very uncomfortable winter to Ella. She did not become quiteas careless and indolent as she had formerly been, nor indulge her temper quite so much, yet she was bad enough to be often in disgrace, both at home and at school.
The winter seemed very long, but spring did come at last, and Ella was busy in her little garden, and again she planted flowers on her mother's grave, and went every day to water them and see how they grew. One evening, when on her way there, as usual, she met Mary Young; and they walked on together.
"Come, Mary," said Ella, when they had reached the churchyard gate, "come in with me, and see how pretty my mother's grave looks; the flowers are all growing so nicely, and the rose-bush has some buds on it already."
They went in; but when they reached the grave, what a scene of desolation met their view! Some one had been there before them, and pulled up all the flowers bythe roots, trampled them in the dust, and even cut off the rose-bush close to the ground. Ella stood a moment struck speechless with astonishment and dismay, then bursting into tears, she exclaimed, passionately:
"It was that wicked Sallie Barnes! Iknowit was! What a mean, bad, wicked girl she is! I hate her, so I do; and I hope somebody will go and tear up allherflowers, and spoil all her garden, for Iknowshe did this!"
"O Ellie, Ellie! how can you say so?" said Mary. "I am very sorry for you, very sorry indeed; but I did not think you would have been so wicked, as to say that you hate anybody."
"Well, I don't care, I ain't half so bad as she is. I wouldn't have touched her flowers, and I'd rather she had spoilt all my garden, or killed my pet kitten, or done anything than this."
"But you don't know that it was Sallie who did it."
"Yes, Ido. Nobody else would want to spoil anything of mine. Just see! everyoneof my pretty flowers pulled up, and my poor rose-bush cut down too. Oh! I can never forgive her!"
"O Ellie,dearEllie, don't say that!" said Mary, putting her arms round her. "Have you forgotten that Jesus said, 'If ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses?' Dear Ellie, think how much more you have done to provoke God, than Sallie has ever done to vex and displease you, and how he has never ceased to bless you; and remember the Bible says, 'Whosoever hateth his brother, is a murderer,' and in another place, 'If he love not his brother, whom he hath seen, how can he love God, whom he hath not seen?' O Ellie, it frightens me to hear you talk so. Just think howwickedit is to say you hate anybody and will never forgive them. What if God should say he would never forgive you?"
"O Mary, I am sorry I said such a wicked thing, but I was angry and didn't think how very bad it was. Won't you ask God to forgive me and help me to like Sallie?"
"I will, Ellie, but you must ask him yourself."
"O Mary, I feel as if I was too wicked to pray; sometimes I am almost afraid to say my prayers. I wish I was as good as you."
"Don't say that, Ellie, I'm not at all good; if you could see all the sinful thoughts and feelings that come into my heart, you would not call me good. I should often be quite in despair, but then I remember that 'Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth,' and I beg God to wash away mysins in his blood, and clothe me in the robe of his righteousness. O Ellie dear, there is no love so sweet, so satisfying, as the love of Jesus. You are always wanting some one to love you, why will you refuse the love of him, who laid down his life for you? 'Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friend.'"
"I am sure I would like to be a Christian, Mary, if I only knew how."
"There is nothing to hinder you, Ellie, if you really wish it. Jesus stands ready and waiting to save you, and you have nothing to do but come to him; comenow, just as you are, without waiting to grow any better. 'O taste and see that the Lord is good: blessed is the man that trusteth in him.'"
"How do you mean, Mary? how can I go to Jesus?"
"By praying to him, Ellie; praying with your heart. If you will do so, thereis no danger that you will perish, for he never yet cast out any who came to him in the right way."
Ella sighed deeply; and sat for some time looking very thoughtful. Presently she got up from the tomb-stone, where they had been sitting, and began picking up the broken flowers, and putting them into her basket.
"I shall just throw these away, and plant some more," said she. "I guess it's not too late for them to grow. I hope Sallie will not pull them up again; but if she does, I hope I shall not get so angry again as to say that I hate her."
Ella knelt down, as usual, that night to say her prayers before getting into bed, but when she came to the petition, "Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors," she stopped, for the text that Mary had quoted came freshly into her mind, and she felt in her heart that she had not forgivenSallie. "Then I can't say that," said she to herself, "for it would just be asking God not to forgive me. What shall I do? I can't say my prayers, and I'm afraid to go to bed without saying them. Mother told me never to do that, and besides I'm afraid I might die before morning."
She sat down to think about it. She tried to feel that she forgave Sallie, but she could not; the more she thought about it, the more she seemed to dislike her. Many little things had occurred, during the last few months, to cause this dislike. Sallie had been continually annoying her in every possible way, and she felt not the least doubt that it was she who had destroyed her flowers—the flowers which affection for her mother had prompted her to plant—and she felt as if the act was an insult to the memory of that dearly loved mother, and therefore much harder to forgive than any unkindness done only to herself.
"I wish the Bible didn't say, 'Love your enemies,' for it's so hard to do it. Sallie is my enemy, and it seems to me I can't like her; she's so disagreeable, and always doing something to vex me; but then it's very true, what Mary said—I do a great deal more to displease God, than Sallie does to vex me. How strange that he is so good to me! But what shall I do about my prayers? I'll ask God to make me willing to forgive Sallie; I can do that."
She did so, and then got into bed. Still her conscience was not at rest. She tossed about for some time, but at length, overcome with weariness, forgot her troubles in the sound sleep of childhood.
But the same struggle was to be gone through again the next morning, and so it was every night and every morning for days and weeks, her anxiety and distress constantly increasing, so that it would sometimesbe long, after she had laid her head upon the pillow, before she could close her eyes in sleep. But she said nothing of all this to any one, for Mary Young had left town for a few weeks on a visit to a friend, and there was no one else whom she dared approach on the subject. At length one night, after tossing on her bed for hours, unable to bear her distress any longer, she threw herself upon her knees and earnestly begged to be enabled to forgive Sallie. This time she prayed with her whole heart, and she immediately felt that her prayer was answered, and that she could forgive her enemy. Then she prayed for herself, that her own sins might be forgiven; that her hard and stony heart might be taken away, and a heart of flesh given to her—a heart hating sin, loving God and desiring above all things to serve and please him.
She rose from her knees feeling relieved and calm, and lying down on her bed, sleptsoundly till morning. Ella waked with the same feeling of calmness and peace with which she had fallen asleep, and she found a pleasure in offering up her petitions, that morning, which she had never known before. She found it easy now to forgive Sallie and to pray for her, and very pleasant to pray for herself, and she was also conscious of such a desire to be kept from sin, and enabled to please God by her conduct that day, as she had never felt before; but it did not occur to her then, nor for some weeks afterwards, that her heart had been changed. She only knew that she felt a longing desire to become a child of God.
"I have some good news to tell you, Ellie," said Mary Young, as she came into Miss Clinton's sitting-room one morning, where Ella was seated busily engaged with some sewing. Mary's face was beamingwith delight, and she looked as if she could scarcely wait for Ella to ask her what her news might be. But she was not kept waiting long.
"What is it, Mary? do tell me!" exclaimed Ella. "I'm sure it's something good, because you look so pleased."
"Yes, indeed, it is good news. Miss Layton is coming back."
"Oh! is she?" cried Ella, dropping her work to clap her hands, "Oh, I'm so glad! I'msoglad!"
"But that isn't all," said Mary. "It's a select school she's to have, and so she is to stay all the time—summer and winter."
"Oh, how nice! and I hope she'll live with us again."
"What's that you're talking about, Ella?" asked aunt Prudence, who had just come into the room.
"Oh, such good news, aunt Prudence. Miss Layton is coming back, and she isgoing to teach a select school, and so she will stay all the time, and I was just wishing that she would come and live with us again."
"Well, child, I think you're quite likely to have your wish. I had a letter from her this morning asking if I would take her to board again, and I shall write back that I'll be very glad to have her, for she's very pleasant company, and I don't have half the trouble with you when she is in the house."
The next week Miss Layton returned to S——, and became once more an inmate of Miss Clinton's family, and soon afterwards she opened her school. It was not long before Miss Layton noticed a change in Ella. She never had any of those violent fits of passion now; she was more patient and humble, and though she seemed to care less for praise than formerly, she was more anxious than ever to do right; sheread her Bible more—not now as a task or a duty, but because shelovedto read it—and she was more thoughtful and quiet, and listened attentively, and apparently with pleasure, when any conversation on the subject of religion was introduced in her hearing.
One evening as they sat together on the porch, Miss Layton said to her, "Ellie, what is the matter with you? you have grown so thoughtful and quiet lately. What are you thinking about?"
"I was just looking up at the stars, Miss Layton, and thinking of what you said to me once about the great love of Jesus Christ in coming down to our little world to suffer and die for us, and I was wishing—Oh, so much!—that he would give me a new heart, and teach me to love him as I ought."
"If you really wished it with all your heart, Ellie, it was a prayer; and a prayerthat God will hear and grant, for he says, 'Ye shall seek me, and find me when ye shall search for me with all your heart.' But don't you love the Saviour, Ellie?"
"Oh yes, Miss Layton, I hope I do. I love to read about him, to think about him, and to pray to him; and Oh, I want to be one of his children! Oh, I wish I could be a Christian!"
"Dear Ellie, I hope you are one. You love the Saviour, and want to love him more; you love to pray to him, to think of him, and to read and hear about him; you love the society of his people, and I have noticed for some time that you seem to be trying to do right that you may please God. By your fruits we are to know you, and judging by them, I hope that with you, Ellie, 'old things have passed away and all things have become new.'"
"O Miss Layton, do you think it can be that I am a Christian? my heart is sohard and full of sin. But Oh, I amsure I dolove Jesus, and I wish more than anything else that God would make me good!"
And now perhaps you, my reader, are thinking that all Ella's troubles are over; that everything will now go on smoothly, and she will have no more struggles with pride, indolence, or ill-temper. Alas! you are sadly mistaken.
The Christian's struggles are not over as soon as he turns his face Zionward; nay they are but scarcely commenced. He has but buckled on his armour for the fight, but girded up his loins that he may run the race; for the Christian life is compared, in the Scriptures, to a race—to a warfare, and we are exhorted to so run that we may obtain, to fight the good fight of faith, to lay hold on eternal life; and we are told that "we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness ofthis world, against spiritual wickedness in high places."
Yes, the Christian's life must be one of continued warfare against sin and Satan; for as long as he remains in this fallen world, so long will his corrupt nature, the body of sin and death, cleave to him. Yet he need not despair, for is he not told, "My grace is sufficient for thee"—"As thy day so shall thy strength be"—"The Lord is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able, but will with the temptation also make a way to escape"—"Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us?" We are not left to fight alone. Jesus Christ is the Captain of our salvation.
Many a hard fought battle with her temper had Ella, and many bitter tears of repentance did she shed when no eye but God's could see her; but though at times she was almost in despair, she still struggledon, crying to God for help, and soon those about her could see that she daily became more patient and gentle, more meek and humble, more Christ-like, more full of love to Jesus. But aunt Prudence would not see that it was religion that had changed Ella so much. She said it was partly because Miss Layton was there to keep her in order, and partly because Ella was outgrowing her faults; that she was getting old enough to feel ashamed to indulge her temper. She forgot that her own temper was quite as bad, as when she was a little girl.
Miss Laytoncontinued to teach in S—— for several years, until Ella was quite done going to school. When Ella had left school, she thought she would like to teach, but aunt Prudence said, "No, there is no need of your teaching. I have enough to support us both, and you must stay at home and learn housework and sewing for a year at least."
Ella of course did as her aunt wished; she stayed at home and worked, trying to do everything just as her aunt wanted it done; but Miss Prudence was very particular indeed, and it was often a very difficult matter to please her. Everything must be done exactly inherway, or it wasnot done right at all; and sometimes she would not explain how she wished a thing done, and then, after it was finished, she scolded because it was not done exactly her way. All this was very trying, and Ella had much need to pray for patience, and not only to pray, but to watch to keep her quick temper from getting the better of her. Daily and hourly she asked God to help her to 'let patience have her perfect work,' and to those who knew what an ungovernable temper she had had in her childhood, it was really surprising to see how very patiently she bore with all her aunt's vexatious ways.
About a year after Ella had quit school, Miss Layton went away to keep house for a brother of hers, who had lately lost his wife. A few days before she left, she and Mary, and Ella were taking a walk together, as they had often done before.
"O Miss Layton, I am so sorry you are going away!" said Ella, sadly.
"But not so despairing, I hope, aslittleEllie was on a former occasion of the kind. Ah, I cannot call youlittleEllie now, seeing that you are fully half a head taller than myself."
"No;" said Ella, answering the first part of Miss Layton's remark, "I am not despairing, for though very dear, you are not my best friend now."
"No, dear Ella, and I am glad to know that I am not. Glad,veryglad to know that you have a Friend who has promised never to leave nor forsake you, and whose love will never grow cold; with whom is no variableness nor shadow of turning, 'Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever.' How consoling when disappointed in the affection of earthly friends,—saddened by their estrangement, their absence, or their death—oh, how sweet to turn to that love that knows no change; to think of him who ever liveth, who is ever present,and who, having once loved us, will love us to theend—of him 'whom having not seen, we love; in whom, though now we see him not, yet believing, we rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory!'"
"Dear Miss Layton," said Mary, "we shall miss you very much indeed. How many sweet talks we have had together, of our best Friend, and our heavenly home!"
"Yes, Mary, and when I am gone, you and Ellie must talk together of these things. You must 'consider one another to provoke unto love and to good works.' My dear girls, I hope you will ever be earnest, working Christians, striving to bring forth much fruit, that you may glorify your Father in heaven. You both profess to be followers of Christ; you have named the name of Jesus. Oh, be careful that you bring no reproach upon that blessed name; be careful to depart from iniquity, remembering that the world around you will judge of religionby the influence it has upon your life and conduct. There can be no such thing as an idle Christian; we are commanded to 'walk in wisdom toward them that are without, redeeming the time,'—to 'work while it is called to-day, because the night cometh, when no man can work.' Then strive ever to be about your Master's business, use every talent in the service of Christ, that in the last great day you may hear the welcome plaudit, 'Well done, good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.' Many persons seem to think that it is only the minister whose duty it is to labour for the conversion of sinners, but that is entirely a mistaken notion; the Bible says nothing of the kind, and it certainly is both the duty and the privilege of each and every Christian to labour to bring souls to Christ.
'Wealth, talent, labour, freely give;Spend and be spent that they may live;What has your Saviour done for you—And what for him would you not do?'
'Wealth, talent, labour, freely give;Spend and be spent that they may live;What has your Saviour done for you—And what for him would you not do?'
"And that you may be able to do this, try to keep your own hearts full of love to him; pray for his Spirit; read every day, and meditate upon some portion of his life, and talk often together of what he has done and suffered for you, and of those heavenly mansions he has gone to prepare. 'Then they that feared the Lord spake often one to another; and the Lord hearkened and heard it; and a book of remembrance was written before him, for them that feared the Lord, and that thought upon his name.' Remember, my dear young friends, that this is not your rest, this world is not your home. You are strangers and pilgrims who seek a better country, even an heavenly, having no more interest in this world, than a traveller feels in the country throughwhich he is passing, to reach his home; then be careful that your affections are not placed upon it, for 'if any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him.' Remember, that you are not your own, and have no right to live for yourselves; for you have been bought with a price, even the precious blood of Jesus Christ, and are to be a peculiar people zealous of good works. May the love of Christ ever constrain you to labour diligently in his service!"
It was only a few weeks after Miss Layton had left them, that Miss Clinton lost nearly all her property, having nothing left but the house in which they lived, with a few acres of ground around it. Miss Prudence, who had always looked upon poverty as disgraceful, was very much distressed and mortified by her loss; but she was of much too active a disposition, to sit down and waste time in useless fretting.
"I never was rich," said she to Ella, "but I never waspoorbefore. I never had to work for my living, but that we'll both have to do now. I shall move away to some other place, however, for I'm not going to stay here to be talked about and pitied for the change in my circumstances, by people that know me. I shall just go off amongst strangers."
Ella would have preferred remaining amongst friends, but as her aunt did not consult her at all, she kept her opinions and feelings to herself.
"Well, well," continued Miss Prudence, "I do think it's very hard to have to lose all now, when I'm beginning to grow old. You don't seem to take it much to heart, Ella, but I can tell you, you may live to beg your bread yet."
"Oh no, aunt Prudence," said Ella; "I have not the least fear of ever coming to that. Does not David say, 'I have beenyoung, and now I am old, yet have I never seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread?' And God says, 'Bread shall be given him; his waters shall be sure;' and if you are growing old, aunt, I am young and strong, and can work for us both; and thanks to you, I have a good education that qualifies me to teach, and I have no doubt that I can get a school somewhere; so cheer up, for I am sure we shall do finely, and I shall dearly love to be able to do something towards repaying you for all the care and trouble you have had with me."
"You don't know anything about it, Ella; you've no idea of the evils of poverty," said Miss Prudence.
"I know, aunt, that the Bible says, 'A man's life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth,' and that we have no need to be unhappy, because we are poor."
In a few weeks after this conversation took place, Miss Clinton had found a tenant for her house, and she and Ella had removed to a little town, some forty or fifty miles distant, where they rented two or three rooms in a small house, and Miss Prudence took in sewing. Ella had brought a letter of introduction from her pastor in S—— to Mr. Thomas, the minister, whose preaching she and her aunt now attended; and as soon as they were settled, she called and presented it. Mr. Thomas received her very politely and kindly, telling her that he had noticed them in church the previous Sabbath, and intended calling on them soon, and then he inquired if there was anything he could do for her.
Ella told him of her desire to open a school, asking him if he could tell her of any suitable room, and if he thought she could find pupils enough to make it worth while for her to make the attempt.
He replied encouragingly, saying he knew of a room that would suit very well, if she could get it, as he thought it likely she could, and that he had no doubt she would soon find scholars enough to fill it, as such a school as she proposed teaching was very much needed in the town; adding that he would go with her now, if she liked, to see about the room, and to call on two or three families that he thought would probably send to her. Ella gladly assented, and they went; first in search of the room—which after some little trouble they succeeded in securing—and then to call on the families Mr. Thomas had mentioned.
As a person introduced by their minister, Ella was received very kindly by all, and several promised to send their children if she should open a school. She returned home in excellent spirits, to tell her aunt of her success.
"You seem very much elated, Ella,"said Miss Prudence, "but I warn you that things won't always look so bright. You will find enough to damp your spirits even before you commence your school, and plenty of trouble afterwards, I'll assure you."
"I hope you may prove a false prophet this time, aunt," said Ella, smiling. Miss Prudence only replied by a shake of the head, and the next day's experience proved to Ella the truth of what she had said.
Mr. Thomas had told Ella she ought to call from house to house inquiring for scholars, as that was the custom of the place, and the only way to collect a good school. She determined to follow his advice, and as soon as her morning work was done up, she put on her things, and started out to do so. To Ella, who was naturally diffident and retiring in her disposition, this was a very disagreeable and trying business.
She called at several houses before shefound any pupils. Some had no children, or only those that were too young to send, and some preferred sending to the public school, or thought they needed their children at home.
She was beginning to feel quite discouraged, when she found herself in front of a large house which bore the appearance of the abode of wealth.
"I will go in here," she said to herself, "they must be rich andableto send their children, if they have any, and I think I hear little voices."
She rang the door-bell. A servant appeared, and in answer to her inquiry for the lady of the house, ushered her into a handsomely furnished parlor, where she sat waiting, what seemed to her a very long time. At last the lady entered, made a slight bow, and sat down waiting for Ella to speak first. Her heart beat quickly.
"I am about opening a school," said she,in a timid voice, "and I called to ask, if you had any children to send."
"Oh, you're the Miss Clinton that I heard was about starting a school! Yes, I have three I'd like to send, but how much do you ask a quarter?"
"Two dollars and a half for little ones, and for others according to their studies."
"Oh, my! that's too much entirely! Why there's my Annie has never been to school in her life, and don't know one letter from another. I couldn'tthinkof paying that much for her, and Howard only spells in two or three letters, and Jane is just beginning geography. You oughtn't to charge so much for little ones, for you know we only send them to get them out of the way, and we don't expect them to learn much. Any body can teach A B C you know, and I think teaching must be very easy work."
"The little ones are very troublesome,you know," said Ella, "and don't you think it is worth something to have them taken care of for six hours every day?"
"Well I sha'n't pay any more than a dollar and a half for my two youngest, and two for Jane. You must remember that you're just commencing, and nobody expects to make anything the first year in any business. You can't expect to have many scholars at first, because how are we to know that you are a good teacher? and if you want people to send their children, you'll have to take them very cheap."
"It would not pay at all, ma'am, at the rate you propose," said Ella; "you must remember that I have to furnish my room, and pay my rent, and very soon I will have to buy fuel. And if I am to have but few scholars, it seems to me that it's only an additional reason why I need to ask a good price."
"Oh, well, you can't expect to makeanything the first year; I've often heard business men say so; but I've told you what I'm willing to give for my children, and I sha'n't pay a cent more. If other people choose to give more, of course they can do as they please."
Ella sat considering what she had better do.
"Will you take them for that?" said Mrs. Wiley, "I want to have it settled at once."
"Perhaps I had better," thought Ella, "as I am just commencing, and they are the first that have offered to-day, though it will be teaching them for almost nothing, and we need money sadly; but then anything is better than nothing. Yes, ma'am," she said aloud, "I will take them for that, as they are the first that have been offered to-day; though I am sure it is far less than my labour will be worth."
"Oh well, you mustn't expect to get theworth of your labour at first, for, as I told you before, people never expect to make anything the first year."
Ella carried a much heavier heart out of that house, than she brought into it. She felt so discouraged, so heart-sick, that it required quite an effort to keep back her tears, and she felt as if it were almost impossible to enter the next house. She was very young, and this was her first trial of the world. But she remembered that she was in the path of duty, and sending up a silent prayer for strength and assistance, she opened the gate, walked quickly up the path, and knocked at the door. It was opened by a pleasant looking lady, who kindly invited her to come in and take a seat. Ella sat down, and was hesitating how to introduce her business, when the lady remarked:
"You are the Miss Clinton, who is about opening a school, I believe?"
"Yes, ma'am," said Ella.
"I am very glad of it indeed, for I don't like to send my children to the public school; they get into so much bad company there. What are your terms, Miss Clinton?"
Ella made the same reply she had to Mrs. Wiley.
"Well, that's little enough, I'm sure," said Mrs. Blair, "for I know children are very troublesome; and I often wonder how teachers ever have patience to bear with them. I have four large enough to go, and I shall send them all, if you will take them. I hope they'll behave themselves, but if they don't, you must either correct them yourself, or let me know. The youngest is only four years old, but she's a bright little thing, and I'm sure will learn. Have you been in to see Mrs. Wiley?"
"Yes, ma'am," said Ella; "she is to send three, but is not willing to pay much more than half price."
"What a shame! She's perfectly able to pay double the price if she chose, for Mr. Wiley is the richest man in town; but they are very close, and never pay more for anything than they are obliged to. But you ought not to have taken them so low; the best plan is never to take any for less than your price, unless they are poor, and you do it out of charity."
"I did not know what was best," said Ella, "but I thought as they were the first that had offered to-day, and I am but just commencing, perhaps I had better not refuse."
"It may be so, but don't let anybody else know that you took them for half price, or they may expect you to do the same for them. I saw you looked quite down-hearted when you came in, but you must not get discouraged; there are some mean people here as well as everywhere else, but there are a great many very nice ones too; andI have no doubt you will have a very good school, and do finely after a little."
"Thank you; you are very kind," said Ella, gratefully.
"Kind words don't cost anything; so I think we can all afford to give them," replied Mrs. Blair, smiling.
"Aunt Prudence," said Ella that evening, half laughing and half crying, "I think I shall find it a puzzling matter to know how to manage my school; at least if I try to please all the parents. One woman told me her child would have to be petted and humoured; another, that she wished me to be very strict with hers. One thinks that they should play nearly all the time, and another, that they should have scarcely any play at all. One says I must never strikeherchild; she will never send him where there is any whipping done; and judging by what I saw of him to-day, I think it will be no easy task to manage him, for hedoesn't mind his mother at all. And lastly, another woman tells me Imustwhipherchild, for she knows I can't manage her without. Now what am I to do?"
"Well, Ella, you must try to do your duty by them all, and just use your own judgment about it. It would be impossible to please all the parents, so you may just as well take your own way."
"Thank you, aunt Prudence, you have quite comforted me. I will take your advice; try to do my duty, and ask God to give me wisdom, and I know he will, for he says, 'If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him.' I am to have some quite large girls, aunt Prudence; some of them quite as tall and as old as myself."
"Do you think you can manage them?"
"I don't know, I feel a little nervous about it, and should feelverymuch so,were it not for the promise I just repeated, and this other, 'As thy day, so shall thy strength be.'"
"How fond you are of quoting Scripture, Ella, you seem to have a text for everything! You are just like your mother for that. I don't see how you can ever remember and think of them all."
"I suppose it must be because they are so sweet and comforting," replied Ella.
Ella lay awake a long time that night, arranging her plans for conducting her school. It seemed to her a very great undertaking, full of responsibility, and her thoughts could dwell upon little else for weeks beforehand. She thought over all Miss Layton's rules, and her mode of teaching and of managing her scholars, and determined to copy her as nearly as possible. She remembered that Miss Layton always opened her school with prayer; mustshedo that? She shrank at the thought ofdoing so before so many young persons, some of whom were older than herself. "But Ioughtto do it," said she to herself. "'In all thy ways acknowledge him;' yes, Ioughtto do it, and whatever Ioughtto do Icando. But I know there are many teachers who do not,—perhaps, after all, it is not necessary. It would be a great cross to me to do it. I will pray for my scholars at home, surely that will be sufficient. No, it will not; I must show them that I am on the Lord's side, that I am trying to serve him, and am not ashamed to have it known that I am his servant. I will ask God to deliver me from the fear of man, and help me to forget all but his presence, that I may not approach him with lip service, but may come with mywhole heart. Yes, I will acknowledge him in all my ways, and he will direct my paths."
Ella succeeded pretty well in collecting a school. She had nearly twenty scholarspresent on the first day, and, in accordance with her resolution, she did open her school with prayer that morning, and every day afterwards, though for a long time it continued to be a trial to her to do so. She found many opportunities to practise patience, both in teaching and governing her scholars. Sometimes they were idle, or dull; sometimes stubborn, mischievous, or impertinent. Sometimes they came late, or stayed away altogether, until they were far behind their classes; and there seemed to be no end to their carelessness, and forgetfulness concerning books, inks, pens, pencils, &c. &c. Then at the end of the term she found it both difficult and disagreeable to collect her dues. And these were not all her trials. She was separated from her dear Christian friends, Miss Layton, and Mary Young, and she missed them sadly. And aunt Prudence's temper had not been improved by poverty, as Ella wasoften made to feel. But when the weary day with all its cares and toils was over, and she could be alone with her Bible and her best Friend, her heavenly Father, how sweet it was to cast all her cares upon him, to tell him all her griefs, her troubles, her doubts, and her fears, and to ask him for strength for coming trials!
How sweet to remember 'all his mercies past, and future good implore!' How sweet to read his blessed word and call each promise hers! How sweet was the sense of pardoned sin—how sweet to remember that Christ had kept the law for her, and suffered the penalty in her stead!
Another, though inferior source of comfort was found in writing to, and receiving letters from Miss Layton, and Mary Young.
Miss Prudencecontinued quite unable to do anything all winter, some of Ella's scholars dropped off on account of the severity of the weather, and the man who had taken her aunt's house failed to pay his rent. All these causes combined brought down their resources very much indeed, and Ella began to economize in every possible way, while she looked forward to the future with a good deal of anxiety. She also exerted herself to sew in the evenings that she might earn a little more, but she was generally too weary and sleepy after her day's work to accomplish much. She did not fail to ask help of Him who has promised to be a Father to the fatherless, andto hear his children when they cry; and sometimes when she had cast all her cares upon him, and read the precious promises of his word, her heart was filled with peace and joy, and she felt sure that he would never suffer them to come to want; but she was a young Christian, and sometimes her faith was weak, and unbelief would suggest that perhaps, after all, these promises were not meant for her; that one so weak and sinful as she, could hardly hope she was a child of God; then what right had she to claim his promises as hers? and besides, were not Christians sometimes left to suffer want? and then she was unhappy indeed.
One day Ella felt very much distressed; they were almost out of flour, and fuel, and nearly every other necessary, all her last quarter's money had been spent, their rent was due the next day, and her present quarter would not close for some weeks.What was to be done? She had no earthly friend to go to for assistance, but she carried her trouble to her heavenly Father.
"Bread shall be given him; his waters shall be sure. Your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things. But seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you. Take therefore no thought for the morrow, for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Call upon me in the day of trouble; I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me. I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee. Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away." These were some of the promises she found in his word, and feeling a firm assurance that he would be faithful to his promises, she went to her work with a calm and quiet mind, and a cheerful countenance. "Be careful for nothing but in everything byprayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God; and the peace of God which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus." Do you doubt it, reader? Only make the trial. "Then shall ye know, if ye follow on to know the Lord."
Ella returned from school in the evening, and still there was no apparent prospect of relief, but she did not feel troubled; she knew it would come in due time. Her aunt had no idea how nearly destitute they were, for Ella had not thought it necessary to tell her, as she knew it would only distress her, and could do no good.
Tea was over, the dishes washed, everything put in order, and Ella had seated herself with her sewing at her aunt's bedside, when there was a rap at the outer door. Ella rose, went into the hall, and opened the door. Seeing a gentleman standing before it, she said,
"Good evening, sir, will you walk in?"
"No, thank you," said he, "I have hardly time. I cannot account for it, Miss Clinton, but it has come into my head several times to-day, that you might be in want of money, and that I might just as well pay you for the children's schoolingnow, as two or three weeks hence; so I have brought it round. I suppose you have no objection?"
"Thank you," said Ella, scarcely able to command her voice, "Iwasin need of it. You are very kind indeed."
"Not at all," said he. "Good evening!"
It was a gentleman who sent her a number of scholars, and the money he had brought was more than sufficient to relieve their present necessities. With a full heart, Ella thanked the Giver of all good. "Oh, how could I ever doubt!" she exclaimed. "Truly he is faithful to his promises!"She now went to her aunt, and told her the whole story.
As they had only Ella's school to depend upon, they had quite a struggle to live through the winter, and several times were brought to great straits, but help always came in time to save them from actual suffering.
As spring approached, there was some improvement in Miss Prudence's health, so that she was now able to sit in an arm-chair through the day, and use her hands a little in sewing. She had been more silent than usual for some days; seeming very low spirited, seldom speaking, and when she did, always in her very crossest tones.
It was a dark, chilly, uncomfortable afternoon. Ella was coming home from school, and as she passed the post-office, she called to inquire for letters. It was a long time since she had heard from either of her friends, and she was anxiously lookingfor a letter; but there was none, and she turned away with a heavy sigh. There are times when the mind seems to partake of the weariness of the body; when the spirit sinks beneath its load; when one feels weary of life—weary of the constant struggle for existence, and longs to be done with the cares and toils, the doubts, fears and anxieties of this life. So Ella felt to-night, as she wended her weary way towards her cheerless home.
"Oh, if I had only one friend to sympathize with, and encourage me!" sighed she. "It is so long since I have heard from either of my dear friends, that I almost begin to fear that they have forgotten me. If so, how entirely friendless I am! No, notfriendless; there are many dear, kind, christian people here, though I do not yet know them well enough to go to them with my troubles, and ask for their sympathy; but have I not a 'Friend that stickethcloser than a brother?' one whose love will never grow cold; one who never changes; 'Jesus Christ the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever?'