CHAPTER I.

THE TWO PATHS.

ONE evening in autumn, two lads stood talking together at the corner of a road in the small seaside village of Springcliffe.

"What are you thinking of doing about it then, Frank?" said the boy who seemed the younger of the two.

"Just nothing at all."

"Have you made up your mind, then?"

"Quite."

"And you will not join them?"

"Not I."

"Why not, Frank?"

"Why not?—Why, because when one is sixteen, I think one has a right to all the spare time one can get; and it's little enough at the best, working from morning to night as we do."

The speaker uttered these words in a decided tone, as much as to say, "There, that will settle the matter." But it did not appear to have the desired effect, for the boy who had first spoken said,—

"I don't think any one wants to take away our spare time, Frank."

"I don't know what you call it then, Walter, I'm sure. There we leave off work at six, and then, instead of having the evening to ourselves, we are asked to make ourselves tidy, and go to the evening school at seven! I should like to know where our spare time goes to!"

"It's only three times a week, Frank."

"And that's three times too many! No; I'm for liberty."

A young man, two or three years older than Frank, passed by at that moment, and whispered something in his ear.

"All right," said Frank, "I'll—"

"Hush!—" And the newcomer looked distrustfully at Walter as he walked away whistling.

"Why don't you speak to Tom Haines, Walter?" said Frank. "You used to be friends at one time."

"Mother doesn't think Tom a good companion for me," replied Walter, "and she says—"

"Are you always going to mind what your mother says?" cried Frank, in a mocking tone.

"I hope so, Frank. I think she is the best friend I have in the world."

"And of course she insists on your going to this evening school."

"Not at all," replied Walter; "she leaves me quite free to decide for myself, after she has given me her opinion on the subject. Mother says I am a rational being, and able to judge between right and wrong."

"And, pray, what is her opinion?"

"Very much the same, only in different words, as what our rector told us in church last Sunday, at the end of his sermon, when he spoke about the evening school; but you were not there, Frank, were you?"

"No," replied Frank. "Well, and what did he say?"

"He spoke of the great value of learning, and said that any knowledge we could gain now would be like so much capital to trade with when we got older. He said, too, that an ignorant man was like one who lived in a dark and gloomy house into which the bright sun never shone; and he called getting knowledge like opening a window in the dark house. He told us also that a young man who can read well, write a good hand, keep accounts, and who knows something about the country in which he lives, is sure to rise in the world—always providing that he is steady and industrious. There was a great deal more, which I cannot remember; but it seemed to me that it all meant pretty nearly the same thing; and I had made up my mind before ever I left the church."

Frank gave a derisive laugh.

"I wonder what writing and accounts have to do with planing smoothly, or driving a nail well home."

Frank and Walter were both learning the trade of a carpenter, and worked together at the same bench.

"I have heard say," said Walter, "that our master was himself only a poor boy not many years ago; but that he was a good scholar, and so gradually rose to be first foreman, and afterwards master. Very likely we can either of us plane a deal, or drive in a nail as well as he can; but I'm sure we could not have told how much glass would be required for Squire Forbes's new greenhouse, nor have been able to reckon exactly how much it would all cost, as master did when the Squire came into the yard yesterday morning.

"And did you see, Frank, the pretty drawing he made of a greenhouse, so that Squire Forbes could see that he understood what he wanted? They are going to teach drawing, amongst other things, at the evening school, and I mean to learn, if I possibly can manage it."

"I see it is of no use talking to you, Walter, but you'll not convince me; so I shall go my own way."

"And I shall go mine," said Walter, with a smile, "and we shall see whose way turns out the best in the end. I hadn't much schooling when I was a little boy, for I had to leave off going to school when poor father died; so I know I am very backward in a great many things; but now I hope I shall be able to make up for lost time."

"I believe you know far more than I do," replied Frank honestly; "for although I was at school long after you left, I don't think I did much good there. I was always a sad dunce, Walter; and, between ourselves, the chief reason why I told father I should like to be a carpenter was because I thought there wasn't much learning wanted to hammer in nails and plane wood. And as to being master, I'll leave that for you, and shall content myself with being one of your workmen, should you ever arrive at the high position to which you aspire."

The lads separated—Frank to keep his appointment, whatever it might be, with Tom Haines, and Walter to go to the Rectory, to enter down his name as one who would wish to attend the evening school, then about to be formed, for the first time, in Springcliffe.

And here let us say a few words about the benefit of evening classes. It is a fact that there are very, very many men and women, even at the present day, who scarcely know how to read and write. There are, indeed, few who do not, as children, go to school for some portion of time; but it is also a fact that, as a rule, the working-classes withdraw their children from school as soon as their labour can be turned to any account, so that, with very few exceptions, all education may be said to have ceased before the age of twelve, and, more commonly at nine or ten years of age. When to this is added the irregular attendance, even during the few years they are nominally at school, the result is that the working-classes remain almost without education, very few having so far mastered the difficulties of reading and writing as to keep up the habit in after-life, and thus they soon lose the little knowledge they acquired.

It was to meet this evil that evening schools were first established. It is not enough to have made a beginning in reading, writing, or counting, unless such a degree of facility is gained as to render the exercise a pleasure, the little that was learned is very soon forgotten. Evening schools, then, are meant to make up to the young working man or woman for the short period of their early school life, by giving them opportunities of learning thoroughly what in most cases was only learned imperfectly.

Reading and writing are, in themselves not so much knowledge, as the means whereby we gain knowledge; and those who can read and write well will be always able to acquire information. The attendance at evening schools being for the most part entirely voluntary, resulting from a wish to improve themselves on the part of those who attend, the progress made is generally very much more rapid on that account; and a lad will frequently be found to have learned more during a few months' regular attendance at an evening school than he did in two or three years of his earlier school life.

A lad who is worth anything is generally able, at sixteen or seventeen to defray the expenses of the evening school out of his own pocket; and this works well in two ways: it relieves the parents from the outlay, and serves to maintain a spirit of self-respect in the young scholar, who is thus wisely laying out his hardly earned sixpences in buying a stock of useful knowledge. Walter and Frank were both apprentices, and any little money they earned was for working overtime. It was a pleasure to Walter to feel that his mother would not have to put her hand in her pocket to pay for his attendance at the evening school, and he knew that he could not spend his pocket-money in a better way.

When Walter arrived at the Rectory, he found a number of the village lads about his own age already assembled there. Several gentlemen were seated at the table, and amongst them Walter recognised Squire Forbes.

The Squire recognised Walter.

"Are you not one of Mr. King's apprentices?" he asked, as Walter came up to the table to give in his name.

"Yes, sir."

"I thought I remembered your face; you seemed to take a great interest in the sketch for my new greenhouse; do you draw at all?"

"No, sir; but I should so like to learn."

"You will be able to do so now; for drawing will form one of the subjects taught at the evening school, and a knowledge of drawing will be of great use to you in your trade. Where is your fellow-apprentice?—The lad I saw working with you yesterday; is he here to-night?"

"No, sir; he is not going to join."

"More's the pity; what is his name?"

"Hardy, sir; Frank Hardy."

"Do you mean one of the Hardy's who live down by the mill?"

"Yes, sir. His father works for Mr. Giles, the miller."

"Just the very lad, of all others, who ought to join," said the Rector. "In the first place, he is very ignorant, and secondly, the occupation of an evening would help to keep him out of mischief, and take him away from bad companions. I have seen him very often with Tom Haines lately; and I am sure no good can possibly come to him from such an acquaintance. Does Frank know of your coming here this evening, Walter?"

"Yes, sir, and I tried to get him to come too; and I told him as well as I could, sir, all about what you said to us in church on Sunday, but it was of no good; so we've each chosen our own path, and are going to see which turns out the best."

"I am glad to see that very few seem to have followed Frank's example," said the Rector, looking at the long list of names which lay on the table before him. "There are thirty-three lads already entered, and I call that a very good beginning."

The Rector then made a few remarks to the boys before they left, bidding them remember that they had all that evening enlisted to fight against ignorance—not with guns and swords, but with books and pens and ink. He bade them beat up for recruits wherever they could, and never to rest until they got their companions to join the evening school. Then he besought them, one and all, to ask for God's blessing on their studies, and reminded them of that text—"Whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men."

"It is a great mistake," he continued, "to imagine that any one's duties are ever so common-place or so trifling that they have no religious value. The Bible is clear enough on that point. It exempts nothing from the compass of God's service. It is God's will that men should follow different pursuits, according to the position of life in which He has placed them. It may be that we are called to very humble duties—duties very far down in the social scale. Are we, then, to think such duties insignificant? Far from it. Low as they are, they are still held from God, for it is He who hath appointed them, and they constitute a stewardship for which we shall hereafter have to give an account. Our wisdom and happiness, then, will consist in endeavouring, through God's grace, to do, as far as in us lies, the work which He has set us to do. May God's blessing rest upon you all in your honest efforts after self-improvement; and may He, by His Holy Spirit, pour into your hearts that heavenly wisdom without which all the learning of the world is but 'foolishness.'"

"Good-night, lads," said Squire Forbes, as the boys made their bows and were preparing to leave the room. "I shall hope to meet you all on Monday night at the school-room, when I intend taking a class myself. And you, Walter, try again what you can do with your companion, Frank Hardy."

"It's of no use, sir; he won't come."

"You don't know that; try again," said the Squire.