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Ella Clinton

<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2> Miss Layton continued 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 in her way, or it was[156] not 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. [157] "But not so despairing, I hope, as little Ellie was on a former occasion of the kind. Ah, I cannot call you little Ellie 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, very glad 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,[158] and who, having once loved us, will love us to the end—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 religion[159] by 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. [160] <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> '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?' </div> </div> "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 through[161] which 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. [162] "I never was rich," said she to Ella, "but I never was poor before. 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 been[163] young, 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." [164] 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. [165] 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,"[166] 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 she[167] found 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 and able to 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,[168] 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't think of 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,[169] 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 make[170] anything 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 the[171] worth 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?" [172] "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." [173] "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; and[174] I 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 strike her child; 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 he[175] doesn't mind his mother at all. And lastly, another woman tells me I must whip her child, 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 feel very much so,[176] 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; must she do that? She shrank at the thought of[177] doing so before so many young persons, some of whom were older than herself. "But I ought to do it," said she to herself. "'In all thy ways acknowledge him;' yes, I ought to do it, and whatever I ought to do I can do. 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 my whole 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 scholars[178] present 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 was[179] often 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. <hr class="chap" /> [180] <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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