Ella Clinton; or, By Their Fruits Ye Shall Know Them

by Martha Finley

  CHAPTER VII.

  Miss Layton continued to teach in S---- for several years, until Ellawas quite done going to school. When Ella had left school, she thoughtshe would like to teach, but aunt Prudence said, "No, there is no needof your teaching. I have enough to support us both, and you must stayat 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 MissPrudence was very particular indeed, and it was often a very difficultmatter to please her. Everything must be done exactly in _her_ way, orit was not done right at all; and sometimes she would not explain howshe wished a thing done, and then, after it was finished, she scoldedbecause it was not done exactly her way. All this was very trying, andElla had much need to pray for patience, and not only to pray, but towatch to keep her quick temper from getting the better of her. Dailyand hourly she asked God to help her to 'let patience have her perfectwork,' and to those who knew what an ungovernable temper she had had inher childhood, it was really surprising to see how very patiently shebore with all her aunt's vexatious ways.

  About a year after Ella had quit school, Miss Layton went away to keephouse for a brother of hers, who had lately lost his wife. A few daysbefore she left, she and Mary, and Ella were taking a walk together, asthey had often done before.

  "O Miss Layton, I am so sorry you are going away!" said Ella, sadly.

  "But not so despairing, I hope, as _little_ Ellie was on a formeroccasion of the kind. Ah, I cannot call you _little_ Ellie now, seeingthat you are fully half a head taller than myself."

  "No;" said Ella, answering the first part of Miss Layton's remark, "Iam not despairing, for though very dear, you are not my best friendnow."

  "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 leavenor forsake you, and whose love will never grow cold; with whom is novariableness nor shadow of turning, 'Jesus Christ, the same yesterday,to-day, and for ever.' How consoling when disappointed in the affectionof earthly friends,--saddened by their estrangement, their absence, ortheir 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, havingonce 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 rejoicewith 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 ourheavenly home!"

  "Yes, Mary, and when I am gone, you and Ellie must talk together ofthese things. You must 'consider one another to provoke unto love andto good works.' My dear girls, I hope you will ever be earnest, workingChristians, striving to bring forth much fruit, that you may glorifyyour Father in heaven. You both profess to be followers of Christ; youhave named the name of Jesus. Oh, be careful that you bring no reproachupon that blessed name; be careful to depart from iniquity, rememberingthat the world around you will judge of religion by the influence ithas upon your life and conduct. There can be no such thing as an idleChristian; we are commanded to 'walk in wisdom toward them that arewithout, redeeming the time,'--to 'work while it is called to-day,because the night cometh, when no man can work.' Then strive ever tobe about your Master's business, use every talent in the service ofChrist, that in the last great day you may hear the welcome plaudit,'Well done, good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy ofthy Lord.' Many persons seem to think that it is only the ministerwhose duty it is to labour for the conversion of sinners, but thatis entirely a mistaken notion; the Bible says nothing of the kind,and it certainly is both the duty and the privilege of each and everyChristian 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?'

  "And that you may be able to do this, try to keep your own hearts fullof love to him; pray for his Spirit; read every day, and meditate uponsome portion of his life, and talk often together of what he has doneand suffered for you, and of those heavenly mansions he has gone toprepare. 'Then they that feared the Lord spake often one to another;and the Lord hearkened and heard it; and a book of remembrance waswritten before him, for them that feared the Lord, and that thoughtupon his name.' Remember, my dear young friends, that this is not yourrest, this world is not your home. You are strangers and pilgrims whoseek a better country, even an heavenly, having no more interest inthis world, than a traveller feels in the country through which he ispassing, to reach his home; then be careful that your affections arenot placed upon it, for 'if any man love the world, the love of theFather is not in him.' Remember, that you are not your own, and have noright to live for yourselves; for you have been bought with a price,even the precious blood of Jesus Christ, and are to be a peculiarpeople zealous of good works. May the love of Christ ever constrain youto labour diligently in his service!"

  It was only a few weeks after Miss Layton had left them, that MissClinton lost nearly all her property, having nothing left but thehouse in which they lived, with a few acres of ground around it. MissPrudence, who had always looked upon poverty as disgraceful, was verymuch distressed and mortified by her loss; but she was of much tooactive a disposition, to sit down and waste time in useless fretting.

  "I never was rich," said she to Ella, "but I never was _poor_ before. Inever had to work for my living, but that we'll both have to do now. Ishall move away to some other place, however, for I'm not going to stayhere 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 auntdid not consult her at all, she kept her opinions and feelings toherself.

  "Well, well," continued Miss Prudence, "I do think it's very hard tohave to lose all now, when I'm beginning to grow old. You don't seem totake it much to heart, Ella, but I can tell you, you may live to begyour bread yet."

  "Oh no, aunt Prudence," said Ella; "I have not the least fear of evercoming to that. Does not David say, 'I have been young, and now I amold, yet have I never seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed beggingbread?' And God says, 'Bread shall be given him; his waters shall besure;' and if you are growing old, aunt, I am young and strong, andcan work for us both; and thanks to you, I have a good education thatqualifies me to teach, and I have no doubt that I can get a schoolsomewhere; so cheer up, for I am sure we shall do finely, and I shalldearly love to be able to do something towards repaying you for all thecare and trouble you have had with me."

  "You don't know anything about it, Ella; you've no idea of the evils ofpoverty," said Miss Prudence.

  "I know, aunt, that the Bible says, 'A man's life consisteth not in theabundance of the things which he possesseth,' and that we have no needto be unhappy, because we are poor."

  In a few weeks after this conversation took place, Miss Clinton hadfound a tenant for her house, and she and Ella had removed to a littletown, some forty or fifty miles distant, where they rented two orthree rooms in a small house, and Miss Prudence took in sewing. Ellahad 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 hadnoticed them in church the previous Sabbath, and intended calling onthem soon, and then he inquired if there was anything he could do forher.

  Ella told him of her desire to open a school, asking him if he couldtell her of any suitable room, and if he thought she could find pupilsenough to make it worth while for her to make the attempt.

  He replied encouragingly, saying he knew of a room that would suitvery well, if she could get it, as he thought it likely she could, andthat he had no doubt she would soon find scholars enough to fil
l it,as such a school as she proposed teaching was very much needed in thetown; adding that he would go with her now, if she liked, to see aboutthe room, and to call on two or three families that he thought wouldprobably send to her. Ella gladly assented, and they went; first insearch of the room--which after some little trouble they succeeded insecuring--and then to call on the families Mr. Thomas had mentioned.

  As a person introduced by their minister, Ella was received very kindlyby all, and several promised to send their children if she should opena school. She returned home in excellent spirits, to tell her aunt ofher success.

  "You seem very much elated, Ella," said Miss Prudence, "but I warnyou that things won't always look so bright. You will find enough todamp your spirits even before you commence your school, and plenty oftrouble 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 thenext 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 houseinquiring for scholars, as that was the custom of the place, and theonly 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, andstarted out to do so. To Ella, who was naturally diffident and retiringin her disposition, this was a very disagreeable and trying business.

  She called at several houses before she found any pupils. Some had nochildren, or only those that were too young to send, and some preferredsending to the public school, or thought they needed their children athome.

  She was beginning to feel quite discouraged, when she found herself infront 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 littlevoices."

  She rang the door-bell. A servant appeared, and in answer to herinquiry for the lady of the house, ushered her into a handsomelyfurnished parlor, where she sat waiting, what seemed to her a very longtime. At last the lady entered, made a slight bow, and sat down waitingfor Ella to speak first. Her heart beat quickly.

  "I am about opening a school," said she, in a timid voice, "and Icalled 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 totheir studies."

  "Oh, my! that's too much entirely! Why there's my Annie has neverbeen to school in her life, and don't know one letter from another. Icouldn't _think_ of paying that much for her, and Howard only spellsin two or three letters, and Jane is just beginning geography. Yououghtn't to charge so much for little ones, for you know we only sendthem to get them out of the way, and we don't expect them to learnmuch. Any body can teach A B C you know, and I think teaching must bevery easy work."

  "The little ones are very troublesome, you know," said Ella, "anddon't you think it is worth something to have them taken care of forsix hours every day?"

  "Well I sha'n't pay any more than a dollar and a half for my twoyoungest, and two for Jane. You must remember that you're justcommencing, and nobody expects to make anything the first year in anybusiness. You can't expect to have many scholars at first, because howare we to know that you are a good teacher? and if you want people tosend 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 fewscholars, it seems to me that it's only an additional reason why I needto ask a good price."

  "Oh, well, you can't expect to make anything the first year; I'veoften heard business men say so; but I've told you what I'm willing togive for my children, and I sha'n't pay a cent more. If other peoplechoose 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 itsettled at once."

  "Perhaps I had better," thought Ella, "as I am just commencing, andthey are the first that have offered to-day, though it will be teachingthem for almost nothing, and we need money sadly; but then anything isbetter than nothing. Yes, ma'am," she said aloud, "I will take them forthat, as they are the first that have been offered to-day; though I amsure it is far less than my labour will be worth."

  "Oh well, you mustn't expect to get the worth of your labour at first,for, as I told you before, people never expect to make anything thefirst year."

  Ella carried a much heavier heart out of that house, than she broughtinto it. She felt so discouraged, so heart-sick, that it requiredquite an effort to keep back her tears, and she felt as if it werealmost impossible to enter the next house. She was very young, andthis was her first trial of the world. But she remembered that shewas in the path of duty, and sending up a silent prayer for strengthand assistance, she opened the gate, walked quickly up the path, andknocked at the door. It was opened by a pleasant looking lady, whokindly invited her to come in and take a seat. Ella sat down, and washesitating 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 tothe public school; they get into so much bad company there. What areyour 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 knowchildren are very troublesome; and I often wonder how teachers everhave patience to bear with them. I have four large enough to go, andI shall send them all, if you will take them. I hope they'll behavethemselves, 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 brightlittle 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 topay much more than half price."

  "What a shame! She's perfectly able to pay double the price if shechose, for Mr. Wiley is the richest man in town; but they are veryclose, and never pay more for anything than they are obliged to. Butyou ought not to have taken them so low; the best plan is never to takeany for less than your price, unless they are poor, and you do it outof charity."

  "I did not know what was best," said Ella, "but I thought as theywere 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 forhalf price, or they may expect you to do the same for them. I sawyou looked quite down-hearted when you came in, but you must not getdiscouraged; there are some mean people here as well as everywhereelse, but there are a great many very nice ones too; and I have nodoubt 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 givethem," 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 myschool; at least if I try to please all the parents. One woman toldme her child would have to be petted and humoured; another, that shewished me to be very strict with hers. One thinks that they should playnearly all the time, and another, that they should have scarcely anyplay at all. One says I must never strike _her_ child; she will neversend him where there is any whipping done; and judging by what I sawof 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 I_must_ whip _her_ child, for she knows I can't manage her without. Nowwhat am I to do?"

 
; "Well, Ella, you must try to do your duty by them all, and just useyour own judgment about it. It would be impossible to please all theparents, so you may just as well take your own way."

  "Thank you, aunt Prudence, you have quite comforted me. I will takeyour advice; try to do my duty, and ask God to give me wisdom, and Iknow he will, for he says, 'If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask ofGod that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shallbe given him.' I am to have some quite large girls, aunt Prudence; someof 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, 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 textfor everything! You are just like your mother for that. I don't see howyou 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 forconducting her school. It seemed to her a very great undertaking, fullof responsibility, and her thoughts could dwell upon little else forweeks beforehand. She thought over all Miss Layton's rules, and hermode of teaching and of managing her scholars, and determined to copyher as nearly as possible. She remembered that Miss Layton alwaysopened her school with prayer; must _she_ do that? She shrank at thethought of doing so before so many young persons, some of whom wereolder than herself. "But I _ought_ to do it," said she to herself. "'Inall thy ways acknowledge him;' yes, I _ought_ to do it, and whateverI _ought_ to do I _can_ do. But I know there are many teachers who donot,--perhaps, after all, it is not necessary. It would be a greatcross to me to do it. I will pray for my scholars at home, surely thatwill be sufficient. No, it will not; I must show them that I am on theLord's side, that I am trying to serve him, and am not ashamed to haveit known that I am his servant. I will ask God to deliver me from thefear of man, and help me to forget all but his presence, that I may notapproach 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 nearlytwenty scholars present on the first day, and, in accordance withher resolution, she did open her school with prayer that morning, andevery day afterwards, though for a long time it continued to be a trialto 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. Sometimesthey came late, or stayed away altogether, until they were far behindtheir classes; and there seemed to be no end to their carelessness,and forgetfulness concerning books, inks, pens, pencils, &c. &c. Thenat the end of the term she found it both difficult and disagreeable tocollect her dues. And these were not all her trials. She was separatedfrom her dear Christian friends, Miss Layton, and Mary Young, and shemissed them sadly. And aunt Prudence's temper had not been improved bypoverty, as Ella was often made to feel. But when the weary day withall its cares and toils was over, and she could be alone with her Bibleand her best Friend, her heavenly Father, how sweet it was to castall her cares upon him, to tell him all her griefs, her troubles, herdoubts, 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! Howsweet was the sense of pardoned sin--how sweet to remember that Christhad kept the law for her, and suffered the penalty in her stead!

  Another, though inferior source of comfort was found in writing to, andreceiving letters from Miss Layton, and Mary Young.

  CHAPTER VIII.

  Miss Prudence continued quite unable to do anything all winter, some ofElla'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. Allthese causes combined brought down their resources very much indeed,and Ella began to economize in every possible way, while she lookedforward to the future with a good deal of anxiety. She also exertedherself 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 toaccomplish much. She did not fail to ask help of Him who has promisedto be a Father to the fatherless, and to hear his children when theycry; and sometimes when she had cast all her cares upon him, and readthe precious promises of his word, her heart was filled with peace andjoy, 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, andunbelief would suggest that perhaps, after all, these promises were notmeant for her; that one so weak and sinful as she, could hardly hopeshe was a child of God; then what right had she to claim his promisesas hers? and besides, were not Christians sometimes left to sufferwant? 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'smoney had been spent, their rent was due the next day, and her presentquarter would not close for some weeks. What was to be done? She hadno earthly friend to go to for assistance, but she carried her troubleto her heavenly Father.

  "Bread shall be given him; his waters shall be sure. Your heavenlyFather knoweth that ye have need of all these things. But seek yefirst the kingdom of God and his righteousness; and all these thingsshall be added unto you. Take therefore no thought for the morrow,for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Call uponme in the day of trouble; I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorifyme. I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee. Heaven and earth shallpass away, but my words shall not pass away." These were some of thepromises she found in his word, and feeling a firm assurance that hewould be faithful to his promises, she went to her work with a calm andquiet mind, and a cheerful countenance. "Be careful for nothing butin everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let yourrequests be made known unto God; and the peace of God which passeth allunderstanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus."Do you doubt it, reader? Only make the trial. "Then shall ye know, ifye follow on to know the Lord."

  Ella returned from school in the evening, and still there was noapparent prospect of relief, but she did not feel troubled; she knew itwould come in due time. Her aunt had no idea how nearly destitute theywere, for Ella had not thought it necessary to tell her, as she knew itwould only distress her, and could do no good.

  Tea was over, the dishes washed, everything put in order, and Ella hadseated herself with her sewing at her aunt's bedside, when there was arap at the outer door. Ella rose, went into the hall, and opened thedoor. 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, thatyou might be in want of money, and that I might just as well pay youfor the children's schooling _now_, as two or three weeks hence; so Ihave brought it round. I suppose you have no objection?"

  "Thank you," said Ella, scarcely able to command her voice, "I _was_ inneed 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 moneyhe had brought was more than sufficient to relieve their presentnecessities. With a full heart, Ella thanked the Giver of all good."Oh, how could I ever doubt!" she exclaimed. "Truly he is faithful tohis 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 astruggle to live through the winter, and several times were brought togreat straits, but help always came in time to save them from actualsuffering.

  As spring approached, there was some improvement in Miss Prudence'shealth, so that she was now able to sit in an arm-chair through theday, and use her hands a
little in sewing. She had been more silentthan 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 homefrom school, and as she passed the post-office, she called to inquirefor letters. It was a long time since she had heard from either of herfriends, and she was anxiously looking for a letter; but there wasnone, and she turned away with a heavy sigh. There are times when themind seems to partake of the weariness of the body; when the spiritsinks beneath its load; when one feels weary of life--weary of theconstant struggle for existence, and longs to be done with the caresand toils, the doubts, fears and anxieties of this life. So Ella feltto-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 dearfriends, that I almost begin to fear that they have forgotten me. Ifso, how entirely friendless I am! No, not _friendless_; there are manydear, kind, christian people here, though I do not yet know them wellenough to go to them with my troubles, and ask for their sympathy; buthave I not a 'Friend that sticketh closer than a brother?' one whoselove will never grow cold; one who never changes; 'Jesus Christ thesame yesterday, to-day, and for ever?'

  'His love, no end nor measure knows, No change can turn its course; Immutably, the same it flows From one eternal source.'

  "Oh, how wrong is this feeling of discontent and weariness; thisrepining at my lot, when I know that it is all ordered by Him who isinfinitely wise and good! And Oh, how many blessings I have, and yethow unworthy am I of the very least of them! 'Be content with suchthings as ye have, for he hath said, I will never leave thee, norforsake thee.' Precious promise! what more do I need?"

  Filled with such sweet and comforting thoughts, she entered the roomwhere her aunt was sitting, with a light step and cheerful face. Shewas extremely surprised to find Miss Prudence in tears. It was a sightso unusual--for it had always been Miss Prudence's boast that she wasabove such weakness--that Ella thought something dreadful must havehappened.

  "Dear aunt Prudence, what is the matter?" she exclaimed.

  "Nothing," said Miss Prudence, turning away her face.

  "Nothing, dear aunt Prudence? I am very sure it can be no trifle thatmoves _you_ so. My dear aunt, we two are all alone in the world;surely, you will not refuse me a share in your confidence."

  "Go away, Ella! I told you it was nothing; can't you believe me?"replied Miss Prudence, angrily.

  Seeing that it would be useless to press the matter farther at thattime, Ella left her aunt, and set about getting tea, her mind allthe time occupied with conjectures as to what might be the cause ofMiss Prudence's trouble. Miss Prudence had never made a professionof religion, but she often boasted that she was "quite as good as anymember of the church, and a great deal better than some of them; forshe read a chapter in the Bible every day, and went regularly to churchtwice every Sabbath, rain or shine, which was more than some of themembers did. She was a good neighbour, kind to the poor, never cheatedanybody in her life, and always tried to do as near right as she could;and so she thought she had about as good a chance of going to Heavenas any of the rest." Indeed, she was very much like the Pharisee whoprayed: "God, I thank thee that I am not as other men are; unjust,extortioners, nor even as this publican."

  Ella had offered up many fervent prayers on her aunt's behalf, thatshe might be led to see upon what a broken reed she was leaning; thatGod would open the eyes of her understanding, that she might becomesensible how entirely without merit were her very best deeds, yea, evenneeding to be forgiven, hateful in the sight of God, because not donefrom any desire to glorify him, but from entirely selfish motives; andthat seeing these things to be so, and how utterly helpless and undoneshe was, she might be led to lay hold upon the hope set before her, andaccept of Jesus Christ as he is freely offered in the gospel, trustingin his merits alone for salvation. Could it be that her prayers wereabout to be answered? She felt a faint hope that it might indeed be so.The evening passed in almost total silence, for though Miss Prudenceseemed restless and ill at ease, she was not disposed to talk, butappeared to be occupied with her own thoughts. Ella was wearied withthe labours of the day, and had been nodding over her sewing for someminutes, when the clock struck nine.

  "You had better go to bed, Ella," said Miss Prudence. "There is no usein trying to sew, when you can't keep your eyes open."

  "I believe I might as well," replied Ella, folding up her work; "butyou will go too, aunt Prudence, won't you?"

  "No; it's no use, for I couldn't sleep," said Miss Clinton, leaning herhead upon her hand, with a heavy sigh.

  "Do your limbs pain you worse than usual to-night, aunt?" asked Ella.

  "No, child, they're easy enough at present; but bodily pain is notalways the hardest to bear."

  "What is it that troubles you so, dear aunt? let me at least give youmy sympathy, if I can do nothing more."

  Miss Prudence remained silent, but Ella ventured again to urge her toconfide her trouble to her.

  "Ella," she said at last, "I used to say--and I _thought_ it too--thatI was quite as good as any of my neighbours, and quite as likely togo to Heaven as any of those who made a profession of religion. Iconsidered myself quite good, and deserving of salvation; but latelymy views and feelings have changed, and I seem to myself to be a verygreat sinner, so hardened and so wicked that it frightens me to thinkof it; for I don't see how it is possible that such a vile wretch canbe saved. I'm afraid I have sinned away my day of grace, and I shall godown to hell."

  "Dear aunt Prudence, listen to what God says, 'Deliver him from goingdown to the pit; I have found a ransom.' 'This is a faithful saying,and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world tosave sinners.'"

  "But not such sinners as I; remember how many years I have been turninga deaf ear to all his invitations; how often he has called, and I haverefused. Oh! these words are constantly ringing in my ears: 'BecauseI have called, and ye refused; I have stretched out my hand, and noman regarded; but ye have set at nought all my counsel, and would noneof my reproof; I also will laugh at your calamities, I will mock whenyour fear cometh.' O Ella, I am sure those words are spoken to me," sheadded, with a shudder, covering her face with her hands.

  "Dear aunt, he says, 'I will be merciful to their unrighteousness, andtheir sins and iniquities will I remember no more.'"

  "It doesn't mean me," she replied, with a hopeless shake of the head.

  "'Come now and let us reason together, saith the Lord; though your sinsbe as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow, though they be red likecrimson, they shall be as wool.' Dear aunt, those words are addressedto you as much as to any one."

  Miss Clinton shook her head. "They might have been once, but not now,it is too late."

  "Aunt Prudence, God says, 'I have no pleasure in the death of him thatdieth, but rather that he turn from his evil way and live.' 'Turn ye,turn ye, for why will ye die, O house of Israel?'"

  "That's not for me, for I can't turn. I might have done it once, butnow it's too late."

  "Why do you say it is too late, aunt? Would you limit the power of God?Are we not told that 'Christ is able to save to the _uttermost, all_that come unto God by him,' and does he not invite you to come? 'Comeunto me all ye that labour, and are heavy laden, and _I will_ give yourest.'"

  "But he says, 'My Spirit shall not always strive,' and I can't expectthat he will ever strive with me again, since I have resisted him, andgrieved him away so often. No, it is too late."

  "Aunt Prudence, I am sure he has not ceased to strive with you, or youwould not feel the anxiety that you do. I believe he is striving withyou now."

  "No, Ella, you have no idea how hard, how dreadfully hard my heart is.Ella, fifty years I have lived in rebellion against God, I have givenall my best days to the world; I did not seek God early, and now Icannot expect to find him." />
  "Remember the thief on the cross, aunt Prudence, saved at the eleventhhour. 'God is the Lord, the Lord God merciful and gracious, slow toanger, and of great mercy, forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin.'"

  "'But who will by no means clear the guilty,'" added Miss Prudence,"and who more guilty than I?"

  "But aunt Prudence, he says, 'I have found a ransom.' Jesus says, 'Comeunto me and I _will_ give you rest; you have only to come casting awayevery other dependence, and he _will_ receive you.' 'Return untothe Lord and he will have mercy upon you, and to our God for he willabundantly pardon.'"

  "No, Ella, not me. I have sinned away my day of grace, and now it istoo late; there can be no more mercy for such a wretch as I."

  "Aunt Prudence," said Ella, "the adversary of souls, the devil, 'whogoeth about as a roaring lion seeking whom he may devour,' has longbeen successful in making you put off repentance, by persuading youto trust in a false hope, telling you that you were as good, and aslikely to be saved as others; and now that he finds that he cannot makeyou shut your eyes any longer to the danger, he would fain persuadeyou that it is _too late_ to repent and seek God. But don't--Oh! don'tlisten to his suggestions. It is _not_ too late. Jesus stands ready tosave you. Oh! come to him now, for he says, 'I will in _no wise_ castout.'"

  Miss Clinton sat for some time without speaking, her face buried inher hands, while Ella was silently lifting up her heart to God in herbehalf.

  "Ella," said she at last, "go to bed, child, and leave me; I wish to bealone now."

  Ella bent over her aunt, and kissed her forehead, saying in a lowtone, "Good night, dear aunt; remember, 'He is able to save unto the_uttermost_.'"

  The next morning, Miss Prudence seemed more composed, but said nothingon the subject of the last night's conversation, and there wassomething in her manner which kept Ella from alluding to it. Weekspassed away, and gradually a change seemed to come over Miss Prudence.She seemed calm, and even cheerful, was more patient than Ella had everknown her, and spoke very gently and pleasantly, and Ella severaltimes surprised her reading her Bible, and shedding tears over it;still she said nothing on the subject for some time.

  At length one quiet Sabbath-evening when they were sitting togetherat the window, watching the last rays of the setting sun, laying herhand on her niece's shoulder, while the tears trembled in her eyes, shesaid, "Ella, I have begun to indulge a faint, a trembling hope that Ihave been born again, that I am changed; that with me 'old things havepassed away, and all things have become new,' and that when my Sabbathshere on earth are over, I shall go to spend an eternal Sabbath inheaven. Yes, spend it in praising redeeming love,

  'Amazing love! how sweet the sound That saved a wretch like me! I once was lost, but now am found, Was blind, but now I see.'

  "And it is to _you_, Ella, under God, more than to any one else, thatI owe this. I have watched you for years, and have been astonished tosee the careless, proud, self-willed, passionate child, change to themeek, submissive, patient, and humble young Christian. I had often saidto myself that there was nothing in religion, but how could I doubt itany longer when I saw such fruits?"

  "O aunt Prudence," said Ella, "I have often felt afraid that _I_ wasthe stumbling block in your way that was keeping you from coming toChrist; for I have come so very far short in the performance of myduty, I have shown so little of the spirit of Christ."

  "I know you are not perfect, Ella, but you are strangely changed, and Ican plainly see that you are trying to serve God."

  "Give the glory where it is due, dear aunt Prudence; but Oh, how happyI am! I feel as if I had nothing more to ask for, now that you, mydear aunt, will be my companion in my pilgrimage. God has heard myprayers. He is indeed 'the hearer, and answerer of prayer.' But, auntPrudence, you had two much brighter examples of piety before you, in mymother and Miss Layton; did not the beautiful consistency of _their_lives convince you of the truth and value of religion?"

  "I never knew them until years after their conversion, and when I wasforced to notice how good and amiable they were, I said to myself,It is their natural disposition; but I _knew_ what _you_ were bynature, so that that excuse did not avail me then, and I could not butacknowledge to myself, that nothing but the power of God could havewrought such a change. And I bless God for the affliction, with whichhe has visited me this winter, for while confined to my bed unable todo anything, and often with nothing but my thoughts to occupy me, Iseemed to be compelled to think of my past life, and to consider mylatter end."

  During the ensuing summer, Miss Clinton's health was almost entirelyrestored. She also recovered the money she had lost, and they returnedto S----, to their old home. Mary and Ella were rejoiced to be oncemore near each other; able to take sweet counsel together, to walktogether to the house of God, and together to talk of their commonhopes and joys. All her old neighbours were surprised to see thestrange change in Miss Prudence. The quiet, gentle, humble woman thatreturned to them, was so different from the loud, boisterous, proud andpassionate woman that went away, that they knew not what to make of it.They all agreed that she was very much improved, but no one enjoyedthe change so keenly as Ella. There was now no discord in her home,but peace and love reigned in its stead. Aunt Prudence, from being hergreatest trial, had become her dearest earthly comfort: formerly, theyseemed to have nothing in common; now,

  "Their fears, their hopes, their aims were one, Their comforts and their cares."

  "Aunt Prudence," said Ella to her aunt, one day a few months aftertheir return, "the school Miss Layton had when she was here last, isnow without a teacher, and a gentleman was speaking to me yesterdayabout taking it; what do you say?"

  "I think you had better not; there is no longer any necessity for youto exert yourself, unless you are too proud to depend upon me."

  "I confess that I prefer being independent, aunt, though I hope it isnot _pride_ that makes me feel so; but setting that reason aside, Istill feel a desire to teach. I think that scarcely any one has moreopportunities for doing good than a christian teacher, and it iscertainly our duty to do all the good we can; to use every talent inthe service of our Master. 'To him that knoweth to do good and doethit not, to him it is sin.' You know I succeeded in my first effort sowell, that the parents of my pupils urged me to stay, and continue myschool; I think that proves that I have a talent for teaching, and if Ihave, ought I not to use it?"

  "Think of the great, the solemn responsibility, Ella."

  "I have thought of it, aunt Prudence, and I feel that it is a _very_great responsibility; but would I get rid of it by burying my talent inthe earth?"

  "But, Ella, you used to come home looking so miserably tired, socompletely worn out. I don't believe, my child, that it is your duty towork yourself to death."

  "Nor I, either, aunt Prudence; but I don't think it will kill me. Youmust remember that _then_ I had the care of the house in addition tothe school; and that I shall not have _now_; and besides, as somebodysays, 'I had rather _wear_ out than _rust_ out,' rather die of too muchwork than of too much idleness."

  "Well, Ella, if you really are so anxious to teach, I will not opposeit; but as to your not liking to be dependent upon me, what differencedoes it make whether you take a part of my money now, or get it all atmy death? for I have no one to leave it to but you, and it must all beyours at last."

  "Don't talk about dying, dear aunt," said Ella, with tears in her eyes;"I hope you have a great many years yet to live."

  "If it is God's will, I have no objection, Ella; but I hope we may bothbe ready whenever our Lord shall come; if we are only prepared, it willmake very little difference _when_ the summons comes. But I did notmean to distress you; I am perfectly well, and as likely, I suppose, tolive to old age as any one else."

  "Well, auntie, may I take the school?"

  "Yes, child; if you wish."

  So Ella taught school in the same town and in the very same room whereshe had been a pupil herself; and people said she was very much suc
ha teacher as Miss Layton, which Ella considered the highest praisethat could have been bestowed upon her. And she _was_ like Miss Laytonin her patient, gentle manner towards her scholars, and her earnestefforts to lead them to Christ.

  "By their _fruits_ ye shall know them." Reader, what kind of fruit are_you_ bearing? "A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither cana corrupt tree bring forth good fruit." Judged by your fruits, whatare you? A good or a corrupt tree? Are you a careless, unconcernedsinner walking in the broad road that leads to eternal death?--or areyou treading the strait and narrow way that leads to life everlasting?Are you taken up with the things of _this_ world, living only for thepresent moment, careless of the interests of your immortal soul, andunconcerned about the forgiveness of your sins? Are you a slave tothe law, trying to work out a salvation of your own, and merit heavenby your own good works?--or are you a loving child, serving a tenderand beloved Parent, striving to bring forth much fruit, that you 'mayglorify your Father which is in heaven?' "Behold what manner of lovethe Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called the sons ofGod."

  "We would no longer lie Like slaves beneath the throne; My faith shall Abba, Father, cry; And thou the kindred own."

  TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:

  Obvious printer errors have been corrected. Otherwise, the author'soriginal spelling, punctuation and hyphenation have been left intact.