IT was said by a celebrated divine, “What we wish to be, that we become.” And perhaps it is so; for when our Creator allows a great longing to fill the soul, in the wish itself lies the surest pledge of its future realization. It was thus with me in reference to going to school. In addition to what Mrs. Wyman had given me, Miss Grimshaw had provided me an outfit, for it seemed she had an inkling that I was to return in September.
I spent one night with Jennie, and Wednesday found me at Rockdale. Mr. Wyman had taken me over in his buggy: he had business at Terryville, he said, and would like to call at the academy; he used to know Mr. Harlan. Taking a kind leave after a short call, he said,
“When your money gives out, don’t be afraid to call on me. You can pay me when you get through, if you like. If not, it will only be a trifle of what I should have done for Willie.”
This was the man whom I had often called cold and unfeeling since that morning on which I met Ezra Metcalf going back to the village: no sympathy for a young heart in its struggles, no encouragement to give one trying to do right. How my heart smote me now, as I stood and watched him till he was out of sight; and then I tried to concentrate all my thoughts on my lesson.
The first day of the term is always a broken one. Lessons are laid out, but not expected to be studied; new scholars coming in, and old ones to greet. Frank Clavers and Robert Lovell were delighted to have me back again, and Robert drew me into the same old seat.
“Not that,” said Mr. Harlan laughing. “I look to you for assistance as well as study. Pupils that I know I allow to sit back; the seats near the desk are for new-comers;” and together we went down the aisle to the back seat.
Robert Lovell did not board in the academy. He was the only son of a widowed mother, who lived in Terryville, and he paid his tuition by teaching a class of the smallest boys. Hence he was looked upon as both teacher and pupil; and his good sense and judicious bearing won the entire regard of those with whom he had to do. Of Scotch descent, large and overgrown, he looked much older than he really was. As a scholar, he was deep rather than brilliant, with a powerful memory, and fine appreciation of the beautiful. He was studying for the ministry, and his heart was alive to the importance of the work; but why he gave me such marked demonstrations of his friendship, I never knew; while for him I soon felt a warmth of regard second only to that given Mr. Kirby. Further advanced in his studies, he was of great assistance to me in my lessons—not by helping with translations, solving problems, etc., but telling me circumstances connected with the time he was studying such and such a book, what he was obliged to do, his walks to school, and the efforts he had to make; giving me to see how small was my labor in comparison with his, my self-denial nothing like that he had known. Then drawing his chair nearer, and taking my hand, he would tell me the sweet story of the cross, painting in such colors the matchless purity and beauty of a life it was ours to imitate, that I forgot myself and my books, and only saw the bleeding, dying Saviour; only heard the sweet accents of his love, “Come unto me.”
I shall never forget the first Sabbath at Rockdale. It did not seem that I could be denied spending the day with Jennie, and still Mr. Harlan had specified that I was to remain there. Try as I would, I rebelled not a little. Robert Lovell came into my room, and seeing my sorrowful face, asked the cause. I told him of my little sister, my mother’s charge concerning her, and that I could not be happy if obliged to remain from her over the Sabbath.
“It is a great self-denial, I can see; but if you have the right spirit, you do not need to go to Claverton to spend Sunday properly. God looks at the heart; he sees all your love and devotion, and he is not one to forget. You want an education; through the kindness of friends, you are put in a position to help yourself. This involves your being here at your post all the time, and Saturday is of course your busiest day.”
“I know it, and I feel quite ashamed of being so gloomy about it; but Jennie will miss me at Sabbath-school.”
“That is just what I came in for. I want you to spend the Sabbath with me. Mr. Farnham has given me a class of boys about your age, and I should like to have you with us. We study together. I do not know so much more than they do, but I am willing to do what I can, and we shall improve in proportion as we become interested in that blessed book.”
“So am I willing to do any thing,” I answered. “I am sorry I have been so fretful this morning. As you say, if I have the right spirit, I can spend the Sabbath here as well as in Claverton. I can think of Jennie as she sits in her little room; and when we do meet, we can compare our lessons and note our advancement just as we do in our other studies.”
“Certainly; and remember that God knows us, and approves not so much what we have accomplished, as the effort that we make. It is not what we give that makes our offering acceptable, but the spirit in which it is given; not what we do, but the spirit in which it is done.”
“I wish it was not such an effort to be good. I do try.”
“It is so to every one, Marston; you are no exception. The more you read and study the Bible, the more you will learn that life is a continued warfare. Good and great as St. Paul was, he felt this more keenly than you do. The natural heart is deceitful, depraved, and desperately wicked; and even when renewed by divine grace, still constant watch and care are needed lest we fall into temptation.”
“Who then can be good?” I asked.
“All those who lean upon the Saviour. But so soon as we aim to walk by ourselves, we are lost. You must do this, Marston;” and Robert Lovell slid his arm around me, and in the silence of my own room, prayed with me as Mr. Kirby had done, that I might become an earnest follower of Christ; that I might be willing to be taught of him; and that now, in the morning of life, I might dedicate both heart and life to his service.
“This is what I want to do,” I said as we rose from our knees; “but when I try hardest, my thoughts will fly off to something else, or hasty, impetuous feelings will rush over me, and make me feel there is no use in trying. Oh Robert, you don’t know what a wicked boy I am.”
“There is no good in ourselves, Marston. It is all of His mercy. Go to the Saviour just as you are, and ask his assistance, his Spirit. He knows all your temptations, all your weaknesses, and he also knows all your efforts. Love and trust him, and his Spirit will help you to overcome. You will try to do this? say that you will;” and he held me firmly by the hand.
“I will, Robert; I will.”
Rockdale was less than half a mile from Terryville. It had been Mr. Harlan’s custom to have his pupils go to Mr. Farnham’s church, leaving him free to preach in the neighborhood adjacent. In this way many were favored with the preached word that would otherwise have been deprived of it; and it is to be hoped much good was done by thus scattering the seed in out-of-the-way places.
But while Mr. Harlan was doing all the good he could, and Robert Lovell was not unmindful of the work before him, active in the double position of both teacher and pupil, there were at Rockdale other spirits quite as energetic in another direction—boys that seemed to have no idea of any thing beyond physical enjoyment, to elude the teachers, escape study, and “have a good time.” This was the great end and aim of their school life.
As Robert Lovell’s home was at the extreme part of the village, I did not see as much of him as of some of the others; and no doubt he thought me weak and vacillating, contrasting as I sometimes did the industrious, painstaking pupil with the selfish, ease-loving one, who seemed to get along just as well. Happy, cheerful, fun-loving spirits, with plenty of money to spend, and always ready for a forage on watermelons or into the cakes and pies in Mrs. Harlan’s pantry. Their only concern was, not to be discovered. Like the Spartan, they held it was no harm to steal; the only disgrace was in being discovered; every other consideration was too trivial for a moment’s notice.
“Such boys will not make men,” said Robert Lovell. “Look in your ‘Self Helps’—you will find no such examples.”
After a while I had an opportunity to go home, as I continued to call Miss Grimshaw’s, more perhaps because Jennie lived there than any thing else. All the weeks that I had been at school, Jennie had been studying; and that evening she had much to tell me of her lessons, many questions to ask, and explanations to go over. She had taken up philosophy and natural science; and her quick understanding seemed to grasp easily what it had taken me a long time to learn.
“There is one exercise that you have,” she said at tea, “that I should like very much, and that is composition.”
“Composition!” and I laughed heartily; for the week before I had listened to a knot of girls as they spoke particularly of their dislike of this exercise above all others.
“If you desire to write compositions,” I replied, trying to look grave, “I do not see why you may not write them here. I have to write them, and I try to do my best. I can’t say how little I might do if I was not obliged to do it.”
“Yes, but how am I to know if they are correctly written?”
“You can see that they are spelled rightly, written and folded neatly. Put your thought into the very best language you have. The second time it will be easier than the first, and so on. Write just as you would talk, easy, naturally, and without effort. These are the rules Mr. Harlan gave me. I will find some one to correct them for you.”
Besides composition, Jennie had to tell me about her pupil, for young as she was she had turned teacher.
“He is a big boy, nearly as large as you are, Marston; but I felt so sorry for him. He said his father and mother were both dead, and he had no one to care for him, no one to mind whether he was bad or good; that he did try to work, and Mr. Wyman turned him away: he forgot one night to put up the bars, and the cows got into the corn. He was sorry, and would not have neglected it again; yet Mr. Wyman would not believe him, but told him he had nothing more for him to do. I couldn’t help telling him that if he would come in every evening I would teach him arithmetic; and sure enough, he has been in regularly, and is studying in good earnest.”
“Pray what is your pupil’s name?”
“Ezra Metcalf. Oh, brother, you know he is a big boy; but he has never had anybody to tell him how to be good. He goes to Sabbath-school too;” and she looked eagerly for my approval.
“He has improved a great deal,” said grandma; “he hardly looks like the same boy; as trim and neat as anybody now: he has found a place to live and work, and goes to church regularly. I never saw such a change in any one. I shouldn’t wonder if he made somebody right smart yet; if he does, you’ll have the credit of it, child.”
“I do not think there is any credit in it, grandma. What should I have known, had there been no one to tell me? Marston and I have much to be thankful for. I often think of Mr. Kirby, and how much he told me. Ezra Metcalf never had a friend like that.”
“You are right, Jennie,” said grandma with a little pat of her hand; “I am glad to see that you are willing to share with others the good that you have yourself received. This is as it should be.”
Thus Jennie was finding her work, and I was stimulated anew as we talked over all that Mr. Kirby had taught us.
“If we could only have such a person with us all the time,” said Jennie. “And still my Sabbath-school teacher says that we can all have a Friend better and wiser than any earthly friend can be. All that is necessary is to ask him; the precious Saviour is always ready to be a friend to any who heartily desire him. You do, don’t you, Marston?” and she laid her little head on my shoulder; “and I do. Mr. Kirby could not stay with us, neither can we be together; we both want just such a Friend;” and the blue eyes looked up to mine pleadingly.
“Yes, Jennie, I mean to ask Him.”
“We will both ask Him. Miss Ackers says he never turns any away, especially if they are poor. I told Ezra Metcalf of this, and he promised to seek the Saviour.”
