Chapter 10: The Absent Scholar

 •  4 min. read  •  grade level: 9
 
“From drear, dark places of the earth,
From depths of sin and shame,
He takes the vessels of His grace,
A people for His name.”
JULIA did not give her teacher any trouble; from the very first Lord's day she took her place in the class she was quiet and attentive. Her teacher, Mrs. M—, noticed with great interest how eagerly the poor child drank in every word, the only trouble being with some of her classmates, who showed by unkind ways and looks that they did not want poor Julia, one girl even saying in a very loud whisper, " My mother won't let me come to the school if I have to sit next a little thief.”
Poor Julia colored deeply, but said nothing. The Lord, who had brought her to Mrs. M—'s class, was watching over her and would not let her be turned aside. For about three months she continued to attend very regularly.
One Sunday, however, her place was empty. It was her first absence, and when her teacher asked, "Does any one know why Julia is not here?" one of the girls, whose home was near Julia's, said, “She has a bad cold, and has not been up today." Mrs. M—quite intended calling to see her scholar, but for her the week that followed was a very busy one, and not hearing any more of Julia thought she was probably better.
On her way to school the next Lord's day afternoon she was joined by one of her class, who said, “Oh, teacher, have you heard about Julia? She is dead. She died two days ago." Mrs. M—hastened to the cottage where Julia had lived, there to learn more of the grace that had not only saved the neglected child, but allowed her to bear a bright testimony for the Lord.
She had been ill for more than a week before a doctor was sent for. As soon as he saw her he said, "I am too late to be of any use—why did you not send for me before? The child is sinking fast, and cannot possibly live many hours." Julia heard all the doctor said, but she was not afraid. She knew the Lord Jesus as the One who had died for her—who had washed away her sins in His own precious blood. And, herself bright and happy in His love, she began to speak to others of the One who had saved her, telling her father and sister of the One who had saved her, adding, "You cannot go to heaven as you are—no one can go there in their sins. You must come to the Lord Jesus; you must trust my Savior.”
Did they listen to and believe the message?
I do not know, but it was, I felt, very gracious and tender of the Lord to allow them to hear of salvation from the lips of a little girl who knew and trusted the Lord Jesus as her own precious Savior. And when, only a few hours after, Julia died, still happy in the Lord, they seemed anxious to remember what she had said.
Do you not think the story of Julia an interesting one? I do. But we have left Lizzie and her scholars so long that I am almost afraid you may forget her.
Lizzie was a frequent visitor in the homes of her Sunday scholars, and as she was careful not to go at times when their mothers were likely to be busy, it is not too much to say that she was always a welcome one.
Nearly all of them were very poor, but what grieved and surprised Lizzie greatly was to find how little some of the grownup women who lived in the back streets and close-crowded courts of Stepney and Limehouse knew of the word of God; for though now and then she was cheered by meeting one who was a true believer in the Lord Jesus, by far the greater number were living thoughtless, careless lives. Many had no Bibles; some said they could not afford to spend money in buying even a cheap copy of the scriptures, and though Lizzie told them a whole Bible could be had for less than a shilling, and a Testament, in nice clear type, would cost only four pence, still some shook their heads, saying, "We can't read, so a Bible would not be of any use to us.”
What was to be done? Lizzie felt sadly discouraged in the midst of so much ignorance, but it is always good for us to be made to feel our own weakness, as when the lesson is really learned in the presence of the Lord, it casts us more simply on His unfailing strength, on His changeless love.
So, after much prayer and some months of waiting, Lizzie began an evening class, to which any of the mothers who wished to learn to read the Bible were welcome, and though at first the number of those who came was small, and a few who said "they found learning to read very dull work" got tired and gave it up, Lizzie worked patiently on, and fresh work, of which I hope to tell you in the next chapter was being opened up to her.