Original stories from real life
Page 9
I should think myself vain, and my soul little, answered Mrs. Trueman, ifthe applause of the whole world, on the score of abilities, which did notadd any real lustre to my character, could afford me matter ofexultation. The approbation of my own heart, the humble hope of pleasingthe Most High, elevates my soul; and I feel, that in a future state, Imay enjoy an unspeakable degree of happiness, though I now onlyexperience a faint foretaste. Next to these sublime emotions, which Icannot describe, and the joy resulting from doing good; I am happy when Ican amuse those I love; it is not then vanity, but tenderness, that spursme on, and my songs, my drawings, my every action, has something of myheart in it. When I can add to the innocent enjoyments of my children,and improve them at the same time, are not my accomplishments of use? Inthe same style, when I vary the pleasures of my fire-side, I make myhusband forget that it is a lonely one; and he returns to look forelegance at home, elegance that he himself gave the polish to; and whichis only affected, when it does not flow from virtuous affections.
I beg your pardon, I expatiate too long on my favourite topic; my desireto rectify your notions must plead my excuse.
Mr. Trueman now joined them, and brought with him some of his finestfruit. After tea Mrs. Trueman shewed them some of her drawings; and, tocomply with their repeated request, played on the harpsichord, and Mr.Trueman took his violin to accompany her. Then the children wereindulged with a dance, each had her favourite tune played in turn.
As they returned home, the girls were eagerly lavishing praises on Mrs.Trueman; and Mary said, I cannot tell why, but I feel so glad when shetakes notice of me. I never saw any one look so good-natured, criedCaroline. Mrs. Mason joined in the conversation. You justly remarkedthat she is good-natured; you remember her history, she loves truth, andshe is ever exercising benevolence and love—from the insect, that sheavoids treading on, her affection may be traced to that Being who livesfor ever.—And it is from her goodness her agreeable qualities spring.
CHAPTER XXI
The Benefit of bodily Pain.—Fortitude the Basis of Virtue.—The Folly ofIrresolution.
The children had been playing in the garden for some time, whilst Mrs.Mason was reading alone. But she was suddenly alarmed by the cries ofCaroline, who ran into the room in great distress. Mary quicklyfollowed, and explaining the matter said, that her sister hadaccidentally disturbed some wasps, who were terrified, and of coursestung her. Remedies were applied to assuage the pain; yet all the timeshe uttered the loudest and most silly complaints, regardless of theuneasiness she gave those who were exerting themselves to relieve her.
In a short time the smart abated, and then her friend thus addressed her,with more than usual gravity. I am sorry to see a girl of your age weepon account of bodily pain; it is a proof of a weak mind—a proof that youcannot employ yourself about things of consequence. How often must Itell you that the Most High is educating us for eternity?
‘The term virtue, comes from a word signifying strength. Fortitude ofmind is, therefore, the basis of every virtue, and virtue belongs to abeing, that is weak in its nature, and strong only in will andresolution.’
Children early feel bodily pain, to habituate them to bear the conflictsof the soul, when they become reasonable creatures. This, I say, is thefirst trial, and I like to see that proper pride which strives to concealits sufferings. Those who, when young, weep if the least trifle annoysthem, will never, I fear, have sufficient strength of mind, to encounterall the miseries that can afflict the body, rather than act meanly toavoid them. Indeed, this seems to be the essential difference between agreat and a little mind: the former knows how to endure—whilst the lattersuffers an immortal soul to be depressed, lost in its abode; suffers theinconveniences which attack the one to overwhelm the other. The soulwould always support the body, if its superiority was felt, andinvigorated by exercise. The Almighty, who never afflicts but to producesome good end, first sends diseases to children to teach them patienceand fortitude; and when by degrees they have learned to bear them, theyhave acquired some virtue.
In the same manner, cold or hunger, when accidentally encountered, arenot evils; they make _us feel what wretches feel_, and teach us to betender-hearted. Many of your fellow-creatures daily bear what you cannotfor a moment endure without complaint. Besides, another advantage arisesfrom it, after you have felt hunger, you will not be very anxious tochoose the particular kind of food that is to satisfy it. You will thenbe freed from a frivolous care.
When it is necessary to take a nauseous draught, swallow it at once, anddo not make others sick whilst you are hesitating, though you know thatyou ought to take it. If a tooth is to be drawn, or any otherdisagreeable operation to be performed, determine resolutely that itshall be done immediately; and debate not, when you clearly see the stepthat you ought to take. If I see a child act in this way, I am ready toembrace it, my soul yearns for it—I perceive the dawning of a characterthat will be useful to society, as it prepares its soul for a noblerfield of action.
Believe me, it is the patient endurance of pain, that will enable you toresist your passions; after you have borne bodily pain, you will havefirmness enough to sustain the still more excruciating agonies of themind. You will not, to banish momentary cares, plunge into dissipation,nor to escape a present inconvenience, forget that you should hold fastvirtue as the only substantial good.
I should not value the affection of a person who would not bear pain andhunger to serve me; nor is that benevolence warm, which shrinks fromencountering difficulties, when it is necessary, in order to be useful toany fellow-creature.
There is a just pride, a noble ambition in some minds, that I greatlyadmire. I have seen a little of it in Mary! for whilst she pitiesothers, she imagines that she could bear their inconveniences herself;and she seems to feel more uneasiness, when she observes the sufferingsof others, than I could ever trace on her countenance under the immediatepressure of pain.
Remember you are to bear patiently the infirmities of the weakest of yourfellow-creatures; but to yourselves you are not to be equally indulgent.
CHAPTER XXII
Journey to London.
The girls were visibly improved; an air of intelligence began to animateCaroline’s fine features; and benevolence gave her eyes the humid sparklewhich is so beautiful and engaging. The interest that we take in thefate of others, attaches them to ourselves;—thus Caroline’s goodnessinspired more affection than her beauty.
Mary’s judgment grew every day clearer; or, more properly speaking, sheacquired experience; and her lively feelings fixed the conclusions ofreason in her mind. Whilst Mrs. Mason was rejoicing in their apparentimprovement, she received a letter from their father, requesting her toallow his daughters to spend the winter in town, as he wished to procurethem the best masters, an advantage that the country did not afford.With reluctance she consented, determining to remain with them a shorttime; and preparations were quickly made for the journey.
The wished for morning arrived, and they set off in a tumult of spirits;sorry to leave the country, yet delighted with the prospect of visitingthe metropolis. This hope soon dried the tears which had bedewed theircheeks; for the parting with Mrs. Mason was not anticipated. Theautumnal views were new to them; they saw the hedges exhibit variouscolours, and the trees stripped of their leaves; but they were notdisposed to moralize.
For some time after their arrival, every thing they saw excited wonderand admiration; and not till they were a little familiarized with the newobjects, did they ask reasonable questions.
Several presents recruited their purses; and they requested Mrs. Mason toallow them to buy some trifles they were in want of. The request wasmodest, and she complied.
CHAPTER XXIII
Charity.—Shopping.—The distressed Stationer.—Mischievous Consequences ofdelaying Payment.
As they walked in search of a shop, they both determined to purchasepocket-books; but their friend desired them not to spend all their moneyat once, as t
hey would meet many objects of charity in the numerousstreets of the metropolis. I do not wish you, she continued, to relieveevery beggar that you casually meet; yet should any one attract yourattention, obey the impulse of your heart, which will lead you to paythem for exercising your compassion, and do not suffer the whispers ofselfishness, that they may be impostors, to deter you. However, I wouldhave you give but a trifle when you are not certain the distress is real,and reckon it given for pleasure. I for my part would rather be deceivedfive hundred times, than doubt once without reason.
They stopped at a small shop, Mrs. Mason always sought out such; for,said she, I may help those who perhaps want assistance; bargains I neverseek, for I wish every one to receive the just value for their goods.
In the shop which they chanced to enter, they did not find the kind ofpocket-book that they had previously fixed on, and therefore wishedprecipitately to leave it; but were detained by their more consideratefriend. While they had been turning over the trinkets, the countenanceof the woman, who served them, caught her eye, and she observed her eagermanner of recommending the books. You have given much unnecessarytrouble, said she, to the mistress of the shop; the books are better, andmore expensive than you intended to purchase, but I will make up thedeficiency. A beam of pleasure enlivened the woman’s swollen eyes; andMrs. Mason, in the mild accents of compassion, said, if it is not animpertinent question, will you tell me from what cause your visibledistress arises? perhaps I may have it in my power to relieve you.—Thewoman burst into tears.—Indeed, Madam, you have already relieved me; forthe money you have laid out will enable me to procure some food for mypoor little grandchildren, and to send a meal to their poor father, whois now confined for debt, though a more honest man never breathed. Ah!Madam, I little thought I should come to this—Yesterday his wife died,poor soul! I really believe things going so cross broke her heart. Hehas been in jail these five months; I could not manage the shop, or buywhat was proper to keep up the credit of it, so business has beencontinually falling off; yet, if his debts were paid, he would now behere, and we should have money in our pockets. And what renders it moreprovoking, the people who owe us most are very rich. It is true, theylive in such a very high style, and keep such a number of horses andservants, that they are often in want of money, and when they have it,they mostly have some freak in their heads, and do not think of payingpoor trades-people. At first we were afraid to ask for payment lest weshould lose their custom, and so it proved; when we did venture, forcedby necessity, they sent to other shops, without discharging our demand.
And, my dear Madam, this is not all my grief; my son, before hismisfortunes, was one of the most sober, industrious young men in London;but now he is not like the same man. He had nothing to do in the jail,and to drive away care he learned to drink; he said it was a comfort toforget himself, and he would add an oath—I never heard him swear tillthen. I took pains when he was a child to teach him his prayers, and herewarded me by being a dutiful son. The case is quite altered now—heseems to have lost all natural affection—he heeds not his mother’stears.—Her sobs almost suffocated her, as she strove to go on—He willbring my grey hairs with sorrow to the grave—and yet I pity my poor boy,he is shut up with such a number of profligate wretches, who laugh atwhat is right. Every farthing I send him he spends in liquor, and usedto make his poor wife pawn her clothes to buy him drink—she was happy todie, it was well for her not to live to hear the babe she gave suck todespise her!
A passion of tears relieved the sufferer, and she called hergrandchildren; these innocent babes, said she, I shall not be able tokeep them, they must go to the workhouse. If the quality did but knowwhat they make us poor industrious people suffer—surely they would bemore considerate.
Mrs. Mason gave her something to supply her present wants, and promisedto call on her again before she left town.
They walked silently down two or three streets; I hope you have learnedto think, my dear girls, said Mrs. Mason, and that your hearts have feltthe emotions of compassion; need I make any comments on the situation ofthe poor woman we have just left. You perceive that those who neglect topay their debts, do more harm than they imagine; perhaps, indeed, some ofthese very people do, what is called, a noble action, give away a largesum, and are termed generous; nay, very probably, weep at a tragedy, orwhen reading an affecting tale. They then boast of theirsensibility—when, alas! neglecting the foundation of all virtue,_justice_, they have occasioned exquisite distress;—led a poor wretchinto vice; heaped misery on helpless infancy, and drawn tears from theaged widow.
CHAPTER XXIV
Visit to a poor Family in London.—Idleness the Parent ofVice.—Prodigality and Generosity incompatible.—The Pleasures ofBenevolence.—True and false Motives for saving.
After the impression which the story, and the sight of the family hadmade, was a little worn off; Caroline begged leave to buy one toy, andthen another, till her money was quite gone. When Mrs. Mason found itwas all expended, she looked round for an object in distress; a poorwoman soon presented herself, and her meagre countenance gave weight toher tale.—A babe, as meagre, hung at her breast, which did not seem tocontain sufficient moisture to wet its parched lips.
On enquiry they found that she lodged in a neighbouring garret. Herhusband had been out of employment a long time, and was now sick. Themaster who had formerly given him work, lost gradually great part of hisbusiness; for his best customers were grown so fond of foreign articles,that his goods grew old in the warehouse. Consequently a number of handswere dismissed, who not immediately finding employment elsewhere, werereduced to the most extreme distress. The truth of this account areputable shopkeeper attested; and he added that many of the unhappycreatures, who die unpitied at the gallows, were first led into vice byaccidental idleness.
They ascended the dark stairs, scarcely able to bear the bad smells thatflew from every part of a small house, that contained in each room afamily, occupied in such an anxious manner to obtain the necessaries oflife, that its comforts never engaged their thoughts. The precariousmeal was snatched, and the stomach did not turn, though the cloth, onwhich it was laid, was died in dirt. When to-morrow’s bread isuncertain, who thinks of cleanliness? Thus does despair increase themisery, and consequent disease aggravate the horrors of poverty!
They followed the woman into a low garret, that was never visited by thechearful rays of the sun.—A man, with a sallow complexion, and longbeard, sat shivering over a few cinders in the bottom of a broken grate,and two more children were on the ground, half naked, near him, breathingthe same noxious air. The gaiety natural to their age, did not animatetheir eyes, half sunk in their sockets; and, instead of smiles, prematurewrinkles had found a place in their lengthened visages. Life was nippedin the bud; shut up just as it began to unfold itself. ‘A frost, akilling frost,’ had destroyed the parent’s hopes; they seemed to comeinto the world only to crawl half formed,—to suffer, and to die.
Mrs. Mason desired the girls to relieve the family; Caroline hung downher head abashed—wishing the paltry ornaments which she had thoughtlesslybought, in the bottom of the sea. Mary, meanwhile, proud of the newprivilege, emptied her purse; and Caroline, in a supplicating tone,entreated Mrs. Mason to allow her to give her neck-handkerchief to thelittle infant.
Mrs. Mason desired the woman to call on her the next day; and they leftthe family cheered by their bounty.
Caroline expected the reproof that soon proceeded from the mouth of hertrue friend. I am glad that this accident has occurred, to prove to youthat prodigality and generosity are incompatible. Economy andself-denial are necessary in every station, to enable us to be generous,and to act conformably to the rules of justice.
Mary may this night enjoy peaceful slumbers; idle Fancies, foolishlyindulged, will not float in her brain; she may, before she closes hereyes, thank God, for allowing her to be His instrument of mercy. Willthe trifles that you have purchased, afford you such heartfelt delight,Caroline?
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Selfish people save to gratify their own caprices and appetites; thebenevolent curb both, to give scope to the nobler feelings of the humanheart. When we squander money idly, we defraud the poor, and deprive ourown souls of their most exalted food. If you wish to be useful, governyour desires, and wait not till distress obtrudes itself—search it out.In the country it is not always attended with such shocking circumstancesas at present; but in large cities, many garrets contain families,similar to those we have seen this afternoon. The money spent inindulging the vain wishes of idleness, and a childish fondness for prettythings not regulated by reason, would relieve the misery that my soulshrinks back from contemplating.
[Picture: Economy and self-denial are necessary in every station]
CHAPTER XXV
Mrs. Mason’s farewell Advice to her young Friends.
The day before Mrs. Mason was to leave her pupils, she took a hand ofeach, and pressing them tenderly in her own, tears started into hereyes—I tremble for you, my dear girls, for you must now practise byyourselves some of the virtues which I have been endeavouring toinculcate; and I shall anxiously wait for the summer, to see whatprogress you have made by yourselves.
We have conversed on several very important subjects; pray do not forgetthe conclusions I have drawn. I now, as my last present, give you abook, in which I have written the subjects that we have discussed. Recurfrequently to it, for the stories illustrating the instruction itcontains, you will not feel in such a great degree the want of mypersonal advice. Some of the reasoning you may not thoroughlycomprehend, but, as your understandings ripen, you will feel its fullforce.