The Young Wife CHAPTER 13.
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In the meantime, these things could not transpire without coming under the observation of Mrs. Lawton, whose interest and sympathies, as well as those of her husband, were awakened, and their hearts made to feel deeply, the trying condition of the widow and her children.
"It really makes my heart ache, whenever I see Mrs. Baillie," Mrs. Lawton said to her husband one evening. "She evidently tries to look cheerful, but finds the effort unsuccessful. And Anna grows paler and thinner every day."
"I am afraid that Anna will break down her constitution," Mr. Lawton remarked.
"And so am I. Her mother tells me that she is up and at work an hour or two before daylight, every morning, and rarely goes to bed until eleven or twelve o'clock at night, besides sitting all day over the work-table at Mrs. Laclerc's."
"She is certainly an uncommon girl, and deserves, it would seem, a better fate. But I see no use in her overworking herself in the way she does."
"I expect it is because they cannot afford to hire another servant," Mrs. Lawton said.
"Does not Margaret help them a good deal?" inquired her husband.
"O, yes; she is at it almost the whole time. Indeed, she is now hardly any use to me, for there is so little help in the house, and so much to do, that I attend to the children nearly all the while myself, and let her work for them."
"In that case, you do not now find it a great deal easier on you, than it was while we kept house."
"Just now it is not. But it is because I know that Margaret is needed downstairs all the while, and I take a good deal upon myself for the sake of Mrs. Baillie."
"I cannot but commend you, Julia, for this self-sacrificing disposition," her husband said. "But now that you have begun it, I do not see where it is to end. You cannot again withdraw Margaret from assisting them, while you are conscious, that for every hour you keep her in your room, an hour more will be added to the toil of some member of this overburdened family."
"I see it all, and feel it sensibly," Mrs. Lawton replied. "But I must learn to consider the necessities of others more than my own ease — at least in the present case; as irksome as it sometimes is to be confined so much in the house, and as busy as it keeps me to attend to all the children. I often get very much fatigued with nursing little Henry so constantly, and frequently am on the verge of ringing for Margaret to come and relieve me, when a vivid sense of the condition of Mrs. Baillie makes me hesitate, and I at length conclude to keep on a little longer."
Mr. Lawton looked upon his wife with a new interest, as he listened to her simple account of her first experience in self-devotion for the good of others. Although Mrs. Baillie tried to do everything for their comfort, he had never been contented since he left his own house. But now he felt willing to put up with every inconvenience, and even the sense of having lost his home, that had been an abiding feeling with him, if by doing so, Julia would learn so fully to sympathize with others, as to be willing to deny herself for their sakes. Until she had learned this lesson fully, he knew that she could never find in the necessary duties of life, that pleasure which should ever accompany their cheerful performance.
"And do you not often feel a glow of delight, my dear Julia," he said, in reply, "when the thought comes up vividly in your mind, that by denying yourself a little — you have relieved them very much?"
"O yes, I often feel thus. And it is a very pleasant feeling, more than compensating for all the self-sacrificing acts that produced it."
"Then you can, no doubt, understand what is meant by the delight of doing good to others. A sentiment that you could not, at one time, fully apprehend."
"Yes, I can readily understand what it means; for I have felt that delight recently, though doubtless in a very small degree."
"You will feel it, in the performance of uses to others, in just the degree that you are actuated by a simple principle of benevolence, abstracted from any selfish desire of reward."
"But I am sure, I could have no desire of reward in this case."
"Not of a reward in kind. But still, there may be in the mind, when we do a good action, the desire to be thought kind and benevolent, which desire may be the moving spring of the action. In such case, we look for a reward; and this selfish feeling will diminish the real delight which flows from the good deed."
"I see that, clear enough," Mrs. Lawton said. "But it is a more abstract, or inner view of the subject, than I have ever before taken."
"And yet the true one."
"I certainly believe so."
"On the subject of doing good to others," Mr. Lawton added, "an eminent and profound theological writer has said, that the happiness of Heaven consists in the delight of doing good from the love of good, instead of from the love of reward, which is a selfish feeling; and all selfish feelings produce unhappiness in the degree they are entertained."
"No wonder then, that none of us are happy," remarked Mrs. Lawton; "for we are all more or less selfish in our feelings."
"No wonder indeed, Julia. How necessary, then, is it, if we would be happy, that we put away as far as we can, those thoughts and feelings that alone have reference to self; and cultivate the higher and better ones that have reference to the good of others as well as ourselves."
"And yet, to do good for the sake of the delight of doing good, it seems to me, would be a selfish motive," Mrs. Lawton remarked.
"You are right there, Julia. We should do good for the sake of good. Or to bring down the idea a little lower, and make it more perceptible, we should do good to others, because it will make others happier, and in doing it, have no thought of ourselves."
"O, if I could only act from such a motive — how glad I should be!" Mrs. Lawton said, with an earnest emphasis.
"Begin then, dear Julia! in the endeavor to resist every feeling that is purely selfish. The effort may be attended, at first, with some pain, but that which you desire is worth all that the trial may cost you."
"But the task seems a hopeless one, when I see, as I now do, so vividly, how utterly selfish I am."
"But you will not always have that vivid perception, Julia, and need not be discouraged because you have it now. Ordinarily, you will only be permitted to see the single selfish desire that is active, and when that single desire is seen, if you are only willing to resist it, you will find power in the very effort of resistance. A power that will weaken, if not subdue, the selfish principle."
"And by such efforts, I will gradually gain strength?"
"Just as a child, by repeated efforts, learns to walk."
"I will try, dear husband! For as I now feel, that which is to be gained by such trial, is worth all the effort it may cost."
"And you will conquer, if you only hold fast to your resolution, dear Julia!" her husband said, kissing her cheek, that was glowing with the fervor of a new affection.
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