My Childhood
17
by our teacher, and it was among her duties to assist me in my writing
and other lessons. She always seemed sincerely sorry for the great
injury she had done me, although I was careful not to remind her of it.
[13]
She was tender and patient with me, and seemed sad and thoughtful as
she saw me laboring under serious disadvantages to get an education.
My nervous system was prostrated, and my hand trembled so that
I made but little progress in writing, and could get no further than the
simple copies in coarse hand. As I endeavored to bend my mind to
my studies, the letters on the page would run together, great drops of
perspiration would stand upon my brow, and a faintness and dizziness
would seize me. I had a bad cough, and my whole system seemed
debilitated. My teachers advised me to leave school and not pursue
my studies further till my health should improve. It was the hardest
struggle of my young life to yield to my feebleness and decide that I
must leave my studies and give up the hope of gaining an education.
Three years later I made another trial to obtain an education. But
when I attempted to resume my studies, my health rapidly failed, and
it became apparent that if I remained in school, it would be at the
expense of my life. I did not attend school after I was twelve years
old.
My ambition to become a scholar had been very great, and when
I pondered over my disappointed hopes, and the thought that I was
to be an invalid for life, I was unreconciled to my lot and at times
murmured against the providence of God in thus afflicting me. Had I
opened my mind to my mother, she might have instructed, soothed,
and encouraged me; but I concealed my troubled feelings from my
family and friends, fearing that they could not understand me. The
happy confidence in my Saviour’s love that I had enjoyed during my
illness was gone. My prospect of worldly enjoyment was blighted, and
heaven seemed closed against me.
[14]