216

A PLEASANT CLOSE.

notice, hence a laugh interfered with Mrs. Hoble's

tears.

"I really cannot say, my friends," I added, "whether I shall leave you or not. I think I shall remain, but how long I cannot say; for whilst, on the one hand, we should not be precipitate; on the other, when Providence seems to call, it becomes us to obey, whether it be a call to enjoyment or suffering, to increased labour or passive endurance. I confess that I have no special wish in the matter. You know well that I do not believe in what is called accident. I am convinced that all things are ordered by Infinite Wisdom, and that our duty is just to obey what we believe to be the voice of the Lord. We may err, even with this belief prompting our movements; but sins of ignorance were distinguished from sins of presumption under the Jewish dispensation, and I need not say, that they are likewise distinguished under the Christian economy. As to my income, you know the amount; and respecting my expenditure your own common sense can judge; yet I have never asked an increase of salary, and never will. If you esteem me, as I believe you do, the very reason that leads you to desire a continuance of my services, should also reconcile you to my departure to a larger field of labour, with a corresponding increase of salary, for the benefit of my family. In the meantime, leave the whole matter to the wise Ruler, as I intend to do."

We sang a hymn of praise; I gave a short address on the religion of the heart, and the way to promote the health of the inner life; and, after uniting in prayer, we separated in peace and love, and with earnest wishes for each other's prosperity.

CHAPTER VIII.

LITERATURE AND THEOLOGY.

"Twins formed by Nature; if they part they die."

The Heart of the

Young.

F any provide not for his own, and specially for those of his own house, he hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel. An indolent Christian is a solecism. The husband and father who bears the Christian name, and yet loves not his wife and children, is a hypocrite. Christianity purifies and strengthens love, and love promotes activity. But when a man's family increases without a corresponding increase in his ability to provide for them, what shall he do? A tradesman could do several things under such circumstances. But suppose the man to be a village pastor, whose congregation is as large as can be expected from the population, and as liberal as their means will afford. Shall he ask them to increase his salary? The thing would be at once useless, absurd, and impolitic. Shall he intimate his intention to leave? By all means, if he wishes to create a disturbance, and split his congregation into parties; and especially if he has no invitation elsewhere. Shall he engage in some secular business? Yes, if he desires to lose caste, and has nerve enough to brave the contempt of worldly witlings, the

218

CONDEMNED TO BE A GENTLEMAN.

cold looks of his well-to-do brethren, the sneer of the squire, the withering smile of the clergyman, and the jealousy of those who are engaged in the business he has adopted. Shall he economise by wearing a smockfrock, coloured neckerchief, and corduroy? Impossible! Society has condemned the man to be a gentleman, and a gentleman he must be-aye, and a benevolent one, too. He must relieve every case of necessity, and subscribe to every charity. He must dress in a suit of black, though it be threadbare; and adorn himself with a white neckcloth, though it require ingenuity to hide its rents. His wife and children must be respectably dressed, or his influence will decline, and her reputation as a housewife and economist perish. Possibly there may be an opening for a schoolmaster in the village. Shall he appropriate the only spare room in his cottage to this purpose? He may do so-gather a few juvenile Hodges, Hodgkins, and Hodgkinsons, and find the result intolerable bondage, unfitting him for study, gnawing his temper, and interfering with his power in the pulpit. Shall he, under cover of pastoral visitation, eat his dinners and suppers in the houses of his people, and leave his beloved wife and children to a crust and cheese at home? Not if he has a soul, and intends to avoid becoming the medium of idle village gossip. There is one alternative left. Shall he try literature? There are many preachers, well qualified for the discharge of official duties, who could not step on the literary arena without certain failure. There are secrets in the publishing trade, of which the country pastor knows not. He may produce a good book, and, in the simplicity of his heart, believe that he has complied with all the conditions of literary success; but the printer's bill-for, of course, an unknown man must publish at his own risk, if he will publish-and the account of sales, amounting to perhaps half a dozen copies in as many months, effectually undeceive him. The book has

TURNING SCHOOLMASTER.

219

passed honourably through the ordeal of criticism, and the public have good-naturedly believed the critics without the trouble of buying, reading, and judging for themselves. Besides, the said public are not in the least interested in the matter. What does it signify whether a little book, written by one Davis, or Jones, or Smith, living in some out-of-the-way village, be good or bad, profound or superficial, original or stale? It is a matter in which no one is interested except the author, who reads the reviewer's estimate of his labours with gratitude and hope, in happy ignorance of the fact that his "clever little work, containing passages of real eloquence," would never have been noticed in any way by the learned editor-but for the name of the publisher.

Self-acquired knowledge is of the highest value. Perhaps wisdom purchased by experience is costly, but that is an argument in its favour, and an evidence of its worth. Of the possible modes of existence, or plans by which a man in my circumstances might manage to live, there were only two that I either could or would adopt, and I adopted them both in turn. With the exception of a dame's school, where little children were sent to keep them out of the way of their toiling mothers for a few hours daily, there was no "fountain of knowledge" in the village. It occurred to me, therefore, that I should at once do good to the youth of the place, and increase the comforts of my family, by assuming the office of schoolmaster. The table and chairs were removed from the largest room in the cottage, and a long desk and forms were substituted; the latter involving expense which I hoped to cover by the receipts of the first quarter. There is no difficulty in advertising the movements of a village pastor. He has but to mention his purpose to one of his people, and it becomes known speedily; and if he wish it extensively known, his best plan is to name it in strict confidence, as in this

220

TRICKS OF THE FANCY.

case everybody knows it before the sun goes down. On the day of opening, seven boys presented themselves— a number afterwards increased by an additional three. I felt most anxious, not only to educate those lads, but to train them. I considered their moral nature as having higher claims than their intellectual; and knowing, from experience, that the sure way to enlighten the understanding is to engage the heart, I acted as any teacher under the influence of this conviction would act. The result was as satisfactory as the class of minds with which I had to deal, and the short time during which I kept school, would permit. Always fond of solitude and study, the noise and excitement of the school compelled me, at the end of six months, to relinquish the ill-appreciated and onerous duties of a schoolmaster. The boys would not be silent. They knew nothing of restraint. Accustomed from infancy to roll about the fields, leap hedges, swing on gates, and live in the open air, three hours' stillness and application to books and figures were positively out of the question. Never did sturdy Protestant rebel against the Pope with more perseverance than did my rosy-faced boys against the law of "Silence!" Finding, however, that a positive want in the village had been supplied, and that the parents had begun to appreciate the advantage of a school, I did not give it up until I secured the services of a young man as schoolmaster. A room was hired in the village, my pupils were transferred to the new master, and I was left at liberty to resume my place in the study, hoping that the potatoes, cheese, and bacon which the pedagogue had received for his six months' labour, would last the pastor until he became a-successful author!

You smile; but why? There is something really animating about these tricks of the fancy. Castles in the air keep one busy. The process of building requires activity. Energy brings its own reward. A man pur