Family Pride CHAPTER 6.
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The particulars just related, I learned subsequent to her admission into our institution. They increased the interest awakened in her on the day of her entrance, and led me, frequently, to converse with the matron as to her condition of mind. For the first week or two, she seemed stupefied, and sat, for the greater part of the time, moping and melancholy in the room allotted to her. By the special direction of the Board of Trustees, who were made acquainted with her relationship to General Thompson, and whose sympathies were awakened by a knowledge of her condition — she was not required to perform any menial employments, but left almost entirely to act as her inclination might dictate.
She had not uttered a word, unless in reply to a question, for the first three weeks following her admission. She was sitting one afternoon, about this time, as the sun was going down, looking out of the window. The expression of her face indicated an unusual excitement of feelings. The matron, whose duties called her into the room where Mrs. Watson was sitting, could not help observing that she was disturbed more than usual. A tear or two stole out from each eye, and passed down her pale cheek, while a heavy sigh struggled painfully up from her bosom. The matron's feelings were touched, and approaching her, she said, tenderly:
"All affliction, Mrs. Watson, is for our good. Try, my dear madam, to feel this, and then you will extract some comfort, even from your present condition."
Mrs. Watson shook her head mournfully, but made no reply.
"Let me urge you," continued the matron, "as one who has known much sorrow, to look upward to God in your affliction. There is a strong consolation for all who will seek it. A haven of repose for all who choose to escape there."
The tone of voice, so tender and maternal, or the words, so unusual to her ear, caused the poor child of affliction to fix her eyes, with an expression of inquiry, upon the face of her kind matron. But still she replied not, and the matron, encouraged to proceed, went on.
"In the Word of Life, it is said 'Come unto Me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.' This is addressed, particularly, to you, for you are heavy laden."
"O yes, yes I am heavy laden, pressed down, never to rise again," she said mournfully.
"Do not give way to such a despairing thought. While there is life — there is hope for days of comfort. And such days are for all."
"Not for me — no never, never," responded Mrs. Watson. "Can I receive back my only treasure? Can there be for me days of comfort, and my stolen child not restored to me? No, no! never, never!"
"Of one thing be certain, Mrs. Watson," said the matron, slowly and impressively. "In all things that befall us, there is a direction or a permission of Providence, and if we duly submit to them, great good will result to us. The same over-ruling Providence which permitted your child to be stolen from you, as you say, can so control circumstances, that your lost one will be restored."
"Say that again! say that again!" exclaimed the half-distracted creature, springing to her feet in an instant, and looking the matron with a wild expression of hope which seemed like a faint and flickering ray glancing up from the stagnant waters of despair.
"Be calm, my dear madam!" said the matron, half alarmed.
"Say it again! O, madam, say those words again!" urged Mrs. Watson, entreatingly.
"I said," repeated the matron, "that the same over-ruling Providence which permitted your child to be stolen from you, can so control circumstances, that your lost one will be restored."
"And the Lord is said to be good and very merciful, is He not?" Edith asked eagerly.
"His tender mercies are over all men. He pities us, even as a father pities his children," said the matron slowly and distinctly.
"And does he pity me?" asked the almost broken-hearted woman, the tears running in streams down her face, at the thought that she was pitied by One so able to help her.
"He has for you, my dear Mrs. Watson, a yearning tenderness. He loves you with unspeakable love, and desires, of all things, to make you happy."
"And then He will, surely, give me back my child, if I ask Him," she said. "But what if my dear little Emily should be dead?" she added, the eager flush of hope that had lighted up her countenance giving way to a pale and death-like hue.
"Then, Mrs. Watson," said the matron, "your child is an angel in Heaven, and is happy, unutterably happy. And it is for you to wait patiently, in obedience to all the precepts of our holy religion, until you are called to join her, to be no more separated. But why thus distress yourself by indulging such thoughts? He who rules all things well, can out of this affliction — bring you a great comfort; and He will do it, if you look up to Him in patient faith and calm obedience."
Mrs. Watson bowed her head upon her bosom, and stood some moments, evidently in self-communion. After awhile, she looked up with a calmer expression upon her face, but with something intensely earnest in her eyes, and said, "What ought I to do?"
"That is, Mrs. Watson," replied the matron, with a glow of heart-felt satisfaction, "the most important question you could have asked, and I am glad that it is so earnestly made. In the first place, then, you ought to make a strong and constant effort, to feel confidence in the Lord, as ruling and guiding all things for the good of His creatures; and as never sending, or permitting any affliction, unless for the purpose of working a greater and more lasting good. As soon as you can begin to realize such a confidence, your mind will react, in a great measure, from its state of gloom and despondency."
"I am willing to try," she responded thoughtfully, "for I clearly perceive that there is much truth in what you say. But I fear that my mind will soon go back into gloom and despair, in spite of all my feeble efforts to help it."
"If you will be advised by me, I think I can help you here also," said the matron.
"I will be advised by you in anything," replied Mrs. Watson, earnestly.
"A mind, unoccupied in some useful task," said the matron, "will prey upon itself, and make even those who have no real trouble, quite miserable. How much, then, will asorrowful mind, unemployed — add to its own distress! It will be necessary for you to employ yourself in something that will divert your thoughts. To have something to interestyou, and to awaken a feeling of care in your mind. In a place like this, I need not tell you, that there are numerous ways of passing your time in useful employments."
"I feel the force of what you say," responded Mrs. Watson. "But I also feel reluctant, I must confess, to tasking myself in any way. Still I will be governed by you."
"Tomorrow, then, I will suggest to you some employment that will be pleasant, and at the same time draw upon your attention. But my duties call me away, and I must leave you. Do not, let me entreat of you, allow your mind to go back again into its state of inactive gloom. If sad thoughts begin to steal over you, endeavor to look up to Him whose ear is ever open to the cry of the mourner."
It was a long time since Mrs. Watson's mind had been roused into such a state of sudden and healthy activity; and that activity continued until her senses were locked that night, in the oblivion of sleep. On the next morning, she awoke from more pleasant dreams than she had known for a long time. Early after the frugal and coarse breakfast had been served, the matron came to her with a small bundle in her hand.
"Good morning, Mrs. Watson," she said, "I am glad to see that you look better than you did yesterday."
"I think I feel a little better too," she replied, while a faint smile flitted across her pale face.
"I am sure you do, for your countenance expresses a much calmer state than you have experienced since you came here. I have brought you a garment to make. Are you willing to work upon it?"
"Certainly, I am. If I would not be unutterably miserable — then I must not be idle."
The matron smiled upon her encouragingly, gave her some plain and brief directions about the work, and then left her, to attend to other numerous duties. Frequently through the day, as she came into Mrs. Watson's room, would she drop a cheerful and encouraging word. None of these were lost upon her, and they frequently came, just at the moment when her spirits seemed about to sink under the weight of sad emotions that, ever and always, swept like waves across her mind.
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