Mr. Collinson made no reply to this, and another spoke.
“It is all very well to talk about training and preparation classes, but few of us have time to attend them, for what with our two week-night services, and all the things going on in the town, it is not easy to take up two new subjects. I think we do enough if we come to school Sunday after Sunday and take a class, for the children are so bad that it is dreadfully hard work to do that.”
But the new minister had his own way.
“It is my school as well as yours,” he said. “I am at the head of it, and while I wish to dwell in harmony with you all, yet, as I place a higher estimate on Sunday-school work than any other, I am extremely anxious that only teachers whose hearts are devoted shall attempt to perform it. We must raise the whole character of this school; who will stand by me in my endeavour to do this?”
“I will,” said a voice; and every one looked in amazement at the speaker, whose name was Stapleton.
CHAPTER XX.
A TRICOLOUR CRUSADER.
Ernest Stapleton blushed when Mr. Collinson looked at him, and all the teachers of the Broad Street School followed the minister’s example. For he was only a boy, not yet seventeen years old, and he was not even an acknowledged teacher, since he only helped with the library, and occasionally took a class for its absent president. He had been attracted to Broad Street by Mr. Collinson himself, who was already known in Granchester as “The Friend of all the Boys.” When they looked at Ernest this is what they saw: A straight boy, rather tall, with well-developed limbs, and a strong face, whose brown hair curled over a thoughtful brow, and whose grey eyes met the gaze of the teachers with frankness and fearlessness.
“How that boy is changed!” was the thought in the minds of several persons who had known him all his life. And, indeed, he was; and the secret of the change was declared to all by the little badge of ribbon which he wore on his breast—the red, white and blue of Old England; the blue for temperance, the white for purity, and the red for battle, or endeavour.
The very first thing which the Rev. George Collinson had done on his settlement was to establish a branch of The Young Volunteer Crusaders. It can scarcely be said that Ernest Stapleton was a volunteer, for he had cost Mr. Collinson some trouble and solicitude before he was finally enrolled; but the new minister had loved the boy, and prayed for him and sought him with wisdom and patience, until at length he was won altogether and entirely. The effort had been made only just in time. The boy had been fast sinking into bad habits that would have weakened and debased him; already his sisters used his name in irony, and declared that “Ernest had not a bit of earnestness in him,” for he cared for nothing but smoking and drinking, and other discreditable self-indulgences; but now, happily, he was saved, and was showing brave qualities of alertness, endurance, and good sense, such as delighted every one who cared for him, and won from his friends the declaration that “No boy had in him the making of a finer man than Ernest Stapleton.”
Mr. Collinson looked at him admiringly when his “I will” rang out in the teachers’ meeting.