_AT SCHOOL AND AT HOME._
"My mind, aspire to higher things--
Grow rich in that which never taketh rust."
PHILIP SIDNEY.
The opportunities for study in China were not enough to satisfy a boy
with even a moderately strong desire for knowledge. Books were as rare
as in the days before John Gutenberg, and Eli Jones has often said
that if he had been asked ten times a day what he most wished for, he
would have answered each time, Books. The fact that he longed so to
read, and that he was almost entirely confined to the Bible, resulted
in his becoming thoroughly familiar with the different parts of that
great Book. It furnished him his poetry, his history, and his ethics;
it was his reading-book and his spelling-book. Joseph in his coat of
many colors and David with his sling were as much acquaintances of his
as were the few boys he played with. David's lament for Jonathan and
Deborah's song of triumph, the spiritual melody of the Psalms and
Isaiah's rapt words, made him feel the power of Hebrew poetry, while
the New Testament was helping him to know the manliness and divinity
of Christ. What boys acquired in those days was well acquired, and if
they did not have as much learning, they often were imbued with a
better learning than at the end of the same century. It is certain
that Eli had the spirit to learn, and did what he could to lay a
proper foundation.
While he was still very young he came with his father and mother to
live at the south end of the lake, and there was built the house which
has been the birthplace and home of so many of the Jones family.
During the years of political excitement and fierce war against the
mother-country--the years between 1812 and 1815--hardly a rumor of the
outside strife had penetrated the long line of unbroken forests. While
men were dying daily to force England to respect American rights, and
while Europe was united to crush Napoleon, the citizens along China
Lake were building brick-kilns to make material for the chimneys of
their houses, doing their every-day work without knowing, perhaps,
that Bonaparte was in the world, and having no fear that a war-cloud
might break over them. Thus the future lover of peace dwelt in peace,
and he did not need to learn the horrors of war by experience to hate
it.
A schoolhouse was built just over the hill north of his home, and
thither he went to be taught; but the terms were very short, and the
teachers only knew a few first principles, though they faithfully
labored to fix these in the minds of their pupils. One teacher, after
working two days on a problem in long division, gave the result to Eli
Jones, saying, "I know that is right now, but I can't explain it to
you or tell you why it is done that way." Eli had an exalted opinion
of one of the teachers who held sway in this little house, and has
often spoken of him with affection. He spent a whole winter teaching
his older pupils to spell ordinary English words correctly, and took
Eli through the spelling-book until all the words in it were fixed
visibly in his brain, where they have since remained; and in all his
teaching since spelling has been one of the branches which was not
elective in the course.
During the winter of 1827 he had the benefit of the charitable fund at
the Friends' School in Providence, R. I. He divided the half year with
another scholar, so that he had only three months, but he was prepared
to make the most of this opportunity. He took ship-passage from Bath
to Providence. The first night after his departure from home his
mother passed in walking the floor and worrying for her boy tossed on
the sea, as she supposed, but he was quietly sleeping all the while in
his berth on the ship, which had anchored in the harbor on account of
fog, and sailed the next morning.
Friends' School, which had been opened at Portsmouth in 1784, was in
its second organization less than ten years old when he came to it,
but it was firmly established, and was often visited by its
foster-father, the venerable Moses Brown. The institution consisted of
one tall, massive brick building looking toward the south, and two
lower transverse wings, to which successive additions have been made
to meet the needs of the times. In front and rear of the buildings
were extensive grounds divided into yards, lawns, and groves of oak
and chestnut trees, then in their youth, now majestic with the
increase of half a century. Beyond the boundary of the school
property, toward the river which Roger Williams had crossed in his
search for a peaceful abode, were great forests of ancient maples,
oaks, and chestnuts, with hillsides of towering hemlocks, and swamps
where the boys, who did not study botany, sought for little beyond the
extermination of a marvellous race of black snakes. From the cupola of
the middle building was a prospect of wide extent, showing to the
new-comers the whole State at a glance, and placing before their eyes
the waters of Narragansett Bay.
Enoch Breed--called universally "Cousin Enoch"--was at the head of the
school as superintendent, while his wife, "Cousin Lydia," was the
matron. She was a sweet, lovely lady, and her presence was felt by all
in the school. "Cousin Enoch" was not an educator, but he was a kind,
fatherly man, a shrewd manager, a good farmer, and an exemplary
character. He always wore his broad-brimmed hat, and was never seen
outside of his private room with it off; the boys looked upon him as
their patriarch, and, indeed, it is said that on one occasion he was
asked if he were Methuselah, and dryly answered, "No, I am Enoch."
Isaiah Jones taught the mathematics, and was considered a very
successful teacher. The other instructors were David Daniels, who
taught what Latin was then required; George Jones, Moses Mitchel,
Abigail Pierce, and Mary Almy.
Reading, spelling, and grammar were the only classes which recited;
all the other work of the school was done privately, each student
being independent and going as slowly or rapidly as his brain-power
and ambition prescribed. Mathematics was the important branch, and
each boy copied problems and their solutions into interminable
copy-books. The school-room was small and lighted by tin oil lamps on
the desks. In this room there were often one hundred and fifty boys: a
number of these were appointed as monitors to report all disorderly
conduct to the teachers.
The meetings were held in the building in an upper chamber, where boys
and girls and teachers sat in the same room. These were generally
silent meetings, but occasionally William Almy or Doctor Tobey came to
give them counsel.
Among the schoolmates of Eli Jones were James N. Buffum, since
ex-mayor of Lynn, Mass., and Peter Neal, also since ex-mayor of the
same city, now on the committee of the school. The latter relates that
Eli Jones received the "christening" always given new boys in those
days, and his remark on that occasion was characteristic of him. The
old students were put in line at night on the play-ground, and among
them stood the newcomer. A "dummy" with swollen cheeks came to each
boy in turn, and was answered by all, "Um!" until he reached Eli, who,
as instructed beforehand, said, "Squirt," when suddenly his face was
filled with water. Instead of the attack which the boys expected, Eli
quietly remarked, "_That was cleverly done_." Peter Neal remarks that
if he had been known as he was a month later, he would have received
no christening.
His schoolmates relate that he was a good boy, and that he was
generally liked. In his youth he was much troubled by an impediment in
his speech, and he early resolved to remedy it as much as possible. He
was the only one of scholars or teachers in the boarding-school who
was accustomed to speak in the Friends' meeting. He had already begun
to speak at home, and, notwithstanding the trial which it was to him
as a young man, he stood up among the boys and forced his voice to say
what was in his heart. Few who heard him on those occasions are alive
now, but these few remember how it impressed them to see one who
played with them on the campus and sat with them in classes speak so
earnestly before them and all the rows of solemn Friends. They
respected his message, for his life was pure.
He had a dread of the nursery, and resolved to keep out of it, but he
was taken with typhoid fever, and after vainly fighting it off at last
succumbed to be doctored in the vigorous way of those times. He had a
long, hard siege of it, and lost a number of weeks from his brief
term; but this short break from his usual life and the intercourse
with cultivated teachers and scholars could not fail to leave its
impress. It lifted his aspirations and widened somewhat the course of
his thoughts, giving an impulse to his future life more valuable than
mere knowledge. While it is to be regretted that so short a time was
given him for satisfying his longings for a higher education, we
rejoice that he knew so well how to school himself and to be a teacher
to himself. He was a good mathematician, and his copy-books show that
he was no tyro at figures; but he affirms that his drill in the old
spelling-book was of far greater worth to him than his higher
mathematics.
When he reached home from Providence, he found a young brother
twenty-one years younger than himself. This was Edwin, the youngest of
the family of eleven, and to him fell the homestead and the care of
the father, mother, and sister Peace.
There is still standing a little red building, about one mile from
South China, called the Chadwick Schoolhouse, in which many a man has
laid his ABC foundation. Its external and internal appearance would
not lead one to suppose that this was a "temple of learning" or any
other kind of a temple, but not a few successful men look back to it
with a feeling of reverence, and the near presence of a yard where
many others of its day tenants of earlier time lie under toppling
stones, just carved enough to tell the names and some of the virtues
of those beneath, gives somewhat of a sacredness to the little
building. It was in this house that Eli first opened his mouth to
speak in the assemblies of the people. He was quite young, less than
fourteen, when he arose in a meeting in that house and said, "Behold
the Bridegroom cometh; go ye out to meet him." On their way home his
grandfather asked who had spoken in the "body of the meeting," but the
grandmother checked her husband with a slight nudge and answered the
question by a motion of her finger. A few years ago a very aged man
came up to Eli Jones and said, "I remember the first time you ever
spoke in meeting, and I know what you said." From this time on he was
often heard briefly in religious assemblies, and he was encouraged by
older Friends to be faithful in delivering his message when impressed.
After his return from Providence School, Eli Jones began to be a
definite worker for the bettering of the world, and the seeds he then
planted have brought forth the blade and the ear, and now the full
corn is in the ear. He and a few others organized a temperance
society of which he was the secretary; and many meetings were held in
China and the adjoining town. Essays were written and speeches were
delivered against the use of intoxicating drinks. This organization
was made two years before the Washingtonian movement was started, and
its influence in the State was great, aiding undoubtedly the enactment
of the "Maine Law" which has made itself felt in all our States and in
many of the other countries.
The same winter he was one of a small company which met to start a
public library. They formed a successful library association. Books
soon began to come in, and from that day Eli Jones has not wanted for
reading matter. With few exceptions, when absent doing higher work, he
has attended the meetings of this association and aided it by his zeal
and counsel.
It is a matter of interest to notice a young man who had just barely
become a full-fledged citizen turning his mind so strongly toward
enlightening those near him, and that, too, in a community where he
did not have the example of any predecessor to arouse him and spur him
on. He was travelling a new road, and building as he went. The secret
of it all was that there was something in him which forbade rest and
inaction. In early years he saw fully that the part of man which ate
and slept was not the important part, but that there was something
within him which could span space and time, and which was spoken to by
the whisperings of the Spirit of the eternal Ruler.
At the present time biographies are within the reach of all boys, and
they can see how great men and good men have made their lives
complete--how they shaped their course, what goal they set before
them, and what lifted them to the mark. In his youth, Eli Jones had
almost no possibility of knowing from the record of other lives how
best to build in youth. His father was a righteous man, whose actions
were living epistles, and his mother was a living, teaching Christian.
From both he inherited much and learned much; but "there is a divinity
that shapes our ends," and, once in the hands of the great Potter,
there is a marvellous shaping of the clay. Biographies, all good
books, and directions in the right way are helps, but submission to be
trained and then used by the Master Builder, is infinitely more of a
help in the making of a right man.
Great men of all ages have recognized a power, a daimon, an
ecstasy--or, better, a Spirit--inspiring them, urging them to seek
truth and beauty, to live lives of truth and beauty and goodness, and
to shun as their greatest enemy everything that distorts and ties
weights to their flying feet. Everything teaches the man who is to be
wise; but most of all the Spirit teaches those who give ear unto Him;
and if any one thing has made the life of Eli Jones a success, it is
that he listened actively to the voice which said, "Give me thine
heart."