CHAPTER NINETEENTH.
"Sweet is the image of the brooding dove! Holy as heaven a mother's tender love! The love of many prayers, and many tears Which changes not with dim, declining years-- The only love which, on this teeming earth, Asks no return for passion's wayward birth." --MRS. NORTON'S DREAM.
"Death is another life." --BAILEY.
No mortal tongue or pen can describe the new, deep fountain of love thebirth of her child had opened in our Elsie's heart.
Already a devoted wife and daughter, she was the tenderest, most careful,most judicious of mothers; watching vigilantly over the welfare, physical,moral, and spiritual, of her precious charge.
Often she took it with her to her closet, or kneeling beside its cradle,sent up fervent petitions to Him who, while on earth, said, "Suffer thelittle children, and forbid them not, to come unto Me," that He wouldreceive her little one, and early make her a lamb of His fold.
And even before the child could comprehend, she began to tell it of thatdear Saviour and His wondrous love; then, as soon as it could speak, shetaught it to lisp a simple prayer to Him.
Little Elsie was almost the idol of her father and grandparents, who alllooked upon her as a sort of second edition of her mother; more and moreso as she grew in size, in beauty, and intelligence. Our Elsie seemed tofind no cloud in her sky during that first year of her motherhood. "Ithought I was as perfectly happy as possible in this world, before ourdarling came," she said to her husband one day, "but I am far happier now;for oh! such a well-spring of joy as she is!"
"I am sure I can echo and reecho your words," he answered, folding thechild to his heart. "How rich I have grown in the last two years! My twoElsies, more precious than the wealth of the world! Sometime I'm halfafraid I love you both with an idolatrous affection, and that God willtake you from me." His voice trembled with the last words.
"I have had that fear also," she said, coming to his side and laying herhand on his arm; "but, Edward, if we put God first, we cannot love eachother, nor this wee precious pet, too dearly."
"No, you are right, little wife. But we must not expect to continuealways, or very long, so free from trial; for 'we must through muchtribulation enter into the kingdom of God.' And 'many are the afflictionsof the righteous.'"
"But the Lord delivereth him out of them all," she responded, finishingthe quotation.
"Yes, dearest, I know that trials and troubles will come, but not ofthemselves, and what our Father sends, He will give us strength to bear.'The Lord God is a sun and shield, the Lord will give grace and glory.'"
This conversation was held when the little girl was about a year old.
Early in the following winter Elsie said to the dear old Mrs. Travilla,"Mother, I'm afraid you are not well. You are losing flesh and color, anddo not seem so strong as usual. Mamma remarked it to me to-day, and askedwhat ailed you."
"I am doing very well, dear," the old lady answered with a placid smile,and in her own gentle, quiet tones.
"Mother, dear mother, something is wrong; you don't deny that you areill!" and Elsie's tone was full of alarm and distress, as she hastilyseated herself upon an ottoman beside Mrs. Travilla's easy chair, andearnestly scanned the aged face she loved so well. "We must have Dr.Barton here to see you. May I not send at once?"
"No, dearest, I have already consulted him, and he is doing all he can formy relief."
"But cannot cure you?"
The answer came after a moment's pause.
"No, dear; but I had hoped it would be much longer ere my cross cast itsshadow over either your or Edward's path."
Elsie could not speak; she only took the pale hands in hers, and pressedthem again and again to her quivering lips, while her eyes filled tooverflowing.
"Dear daughter," said the calm, sweet voice, "do not grieve that I havegot my summons home; for dearly, dearly as I love you all, I am oftenlonging to see the face of my Beloved; of Him who hath redeemed me andwashed me from my sins in His own precious blood."
Mr. Travilla from the next room had heard it all. Hurrying in, he knelt byher side and folded his arms about her. "Mother," he said, hoarsely, "oh,is it, can it be so? Are we to lose you?"
"No, my son; blessed be God, I shall not be lost, but only gone before; sodon't be troubled and sorrowful when you see me suffer; remember that Heloves me far better than you can, and will never give me one unneededpang.
"Well may I bear joyfully all He sends; for your light affliction, whichis but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternalweight of glory; and He has said, 'When thou passest through the waters, Iwill be with thee: and through the floods, they shall not overflow thee:when thou walkest through the fire thou shalt not be burned, neither shallthe flames kindle upon thee.'"
"And He is faithful to His promises. But we will not let you die yet, mymother, if anything in the wide world can save you. There are more skilfulphysicians than Dr. Barton; we will consult them----"
"My son, the disease is one the whole profession agree in pronouncingincurable, and to travel would be torture. No, be content to let me die athome, with you and this beloved daughter to smooth my dying pillow, ourwee precious pet to wile away the pain with her pretty baby ways, and myown pastor to comfort me with God's truth and sweet thoughts of heaven."
Elsie looked the question her trembling lips refused to utter.
"I shall not probably leave you soon," said the old lady. "It is a slowthing, the doctor tells me, it will take some time to run its course."
Elsie could scarce endure the anguish in her husband's face. Silently sheplaced herself by his side, her arm about his neck, and laid her cheek tohis.
He drew her yet closer, the other arm still embracing his mother. "Are yousuffering much, dearest mother?"
"Not more than He giveth me strength to bear; and His consolations are notsmall.
"My dear children, I have tried to hide this from you lest it should maryour happiness. Do not let it do so; it is no cause of regret to me. Ihave lived my three-score years and ten, and if by reason of strength theyshould be four-score, yet would their strength be labor and sorrow. I amdeeply thankful that our Father has decreed to spare me the infirmities ofextreme old age, by calling me home to that New Jerusalem where sin andsorrow, pain and feebleness, are unknown."
"But to see you suffer, mother!" groaned her son.
"Think on the dear Hand that sends the pain--so infinitely less than whatHe bore for me; that it is but for a moment; and of the weight of glory itis to work for me. Try, my dear children, to be entirely submissive to Hiswill."
"We will, mother," they answered; "and to be cheerful for your sake."
A shadow had fallen upon the brightness of the hitherto happy home--ashadow of a great, coming sorrow--and the present grief of knowing thatthe dear mother, though ever patient, cheerful, resigned, was enduringalmost constant and often very severe pain.
They watched over her with tenderest love and care, doing everything intheir power to relieve, strengthen, comfort her; never giving way in herpresence to the grief that often wrung their hearts.
Dearly as Mr. Travilla and Elsie had loved each other before, thiscommunity of sorrow drew them still closer together; as did their lovefor, and joy and pride in, their beautiful child.
The consolations of God were not small with any of our friends at Ion andthe Oaks; yet was it a winter of trial to all.
For some weeks after the above conversation, Mr. Dinsmore and Rose calledevery day, and showed themselves sincere sympathizers; but young Horaceand little Rosebud were taken with scarlet fever in its worst form, andthe parents being much with them, did not venture to Ion for fear ofcarrying the infection to wee Elsie.
By God's blessing upon skilful medical advice and attention, and the bestof nursing, the children were brought safely through the trying ordeal,the disease leaving no evil effects, as it so often does. But scarcely hadthey convalesced when Mr
. Dinsmore fell ill of typhoid fever, though of arather mild type.
Then as he began to go about again, Rose took to her bed with what provedto be a far more severe and lasting attack of the same disease; for weeksher life was in great jeopardy, and even after the danger was past, theimprovement was so very slow that her husband was filled with anxiety forher.
Meanwhile the beloved invalid at Ion was slowly sinking to the grave. Nay,rather, as she would have it, journeying rapidly towards her heavenlyhome, "the land of the leal," the city which hath foundations, whosebuilder and Maker is God.
She suffered, but with a patience that never failed, a cheerfulness andjoyful looking to the end, that made her sick-room a sort of little heavenbelow.
Her children were with her almost constantly through the day; but Mr.Travilla, watchful as ever over his idolized young wife, would not allowher to lose a night's rest, insisting on her retiring at the usual hour.Nor would he allow her ever to assist in lifting his mother, or any of theheavy nursing; she might smooth her pillows, give her medicines, orderdainties prepared to tempt the failing appetite, and oversee the negrowomen, who were capable nurses, and one of whom was always at hand nightand day, ready to do whatever was required.
Elsie dearly loved her mother-in-law, and felt it both a duty and delightto do all in her power for her comfort and consolation; but when she heardthat her own beloved father was ill, she could not stay away from him, butmade a daily visit to the Oaks and to his bedside. She was uniformlycheerful in his presence, but wept in secret because she was denied theprivilege of nursing him in his illness.
Then her sorrow and anxiety for Rose were great, and all the more because,Mrs. Travilla being then at the worst, she could very seldom leave her foreven the shortest call at the Oaks.
In the afternoon of a sweet bright Sabbath in March, a little groupgathered in Mrs. Travilla's room. Her pastor was there: a man of largeheart full of tender sympathy for the sick, the suffering, the bereaved,the poor, the distressed in mind, body, or estate; a man mighty in theScriptures; with its warnings, its counsels, its assurances, its sweet andprecious promises ever ready on his tongue; one who by much study of theBible, accompanied by fervent prayer for the wisdom promised to him thatasks it, had learned to wield wisely and with success "the sword of theSpirit which is the word of God." Like Noah he was a preacher ofrighteousness, and like Paul could say, "I ceased not to warn every onenight and day with tears."
He had brought with him one of his elders, a man of like spirit, gentle,kind, tender, ever ready to obey the command to "weep with those that weepand rejoice with those that do rejoice," a man silver-haired and growingfeeble with age, yet so meek and lowly in heart, so earnest and childlikein his approaches to our Father, that he seemed on the very verge ofheaven.
"Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God." Often had these twobeen in that sick-room, comforting the aged saint as she neared "thevalley of the shadow of death."
To-day they had come again on the same Christlike errand, and for the lasttime; for all could see that she stood on Jordan's very brink, its coldwaters already creeping up about her feet.
Mr. Dinsmore, Mr. Travilla, and Elsie were present; also, a littlewithdrawn from the others, Aunt Chloe, Uncle Joe, and a few of the oldhouse servants who were Christians. "The rich and the poor meet together;the Lord is the Maker of them all."
It was a sweetly solemn service, refreshing to the soul of each one there;most of all, perhaps, to that of her who would so soon be casting hercrown at the Master's feet. "I am almost home," she said with brighteningcountenance, her low, sweet voice breaking the solemn stillness of theroom; "I am entering the valley, but without fear, for Jesus is with me. Ihear Him saying to me, 'Fear not; I have redeemed thee; thou art mine.'"
"He is all your hope and trust, dear friend, is He not?" asked her pastor.
"All, all; His blood and righteousness are all my hope. All myrighteousnesses are as filthy rags; all my best services have need to beforgiven. I am vile; but His blood cleanseth from all sin; and He haswashed me in it and made me mete for the inheritance of the saints inlight."
"Dear sister," said the old elder, taking her hand in a last farewell,"good-bye for a short season; 'twill not be long till we meet before thethrone. Do not fear to cross the river, for He will be with you, and willnot let you sink."
"No; the everlasting arms are underneath and around me, and He will neverleave nor forsake."
"'Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints,'" said thepastor, taking the feeble hand in his turn. "Fear not; you shall be morethan conqueror through Him that loved us."
"Yes, the battle is fought, the victory is won; and I hear Him saying tome, 'Come up hither.' Oh! I shall be there very soon--a sinner saved bygrace."
The pastor and elder withdrew, Mr. Travilla going with them to the door.Elsie brought a cordial and held it to her mother's lips, Mr. Dinsmoregently raising her head. "Thank you both," she said, with the courtesy forwhich she had ever been distinguished. Then, as Mr. Dinsmore settled hermore comfortably on her pillows, and Elsie set aside the empty cup,"Horace, my friend, farewell till we meet in a better land. Elsie,darling," laying her pale thin hand on the bowed head, "you have been adear, dear daughter to me, such a comfort, such a blessing! May the Lordreward you."
Elsie had much ado to control her feelings. Her father passed his armabout her waist and made her rest her head upon his shoulder.
"Mother, how are you now?" asked Mr. Travilla, coming in and taking hisplace on his wife's other side, close by the bed of the dying one.
"All is peace, peace, the sweetest peace, I have nothing to do but to die,I am in the river, but the Lord upholdeth me with His hand, and I havealmost reached the farther shore."
She then asked for the babe, kissed and blessed it, and bade her songood-bye.
"Sing to me, children, the twenty-third psalm."
Controlling their emotion by a strong effort, that they might minister toher comfort, they sang; the three voices blending in sweet harmony.
"Thank you," she said again, as the last strain died away. "Hark! I hearsweeter, richer melody, the angels have come for me, Jesus is here. LordJesus receive my spirit."
There was an enraptured upward glance, an ecstatic smile, then the eyesclosed and all was still; without a struggle or a groan the spirit haddropped its tenement of clay and sped away on its upward flight.
It was like a translation; a deep hush filled the room, while for a momentthey seemed almost to see the "glory that dwelleth in Immanuel's land."They scarcely wept, their joy for her, the ransomed of the Lord, almostswallowing up their grief for themselves.
But soon Elsie began to tremble violently, shudder after shudder shakingher whole frame, and in sudden alarm her husband and father led her fromthe room.
"Oh. Elsie, my darling, my precious wife!" cried Travilla, in a tone ofagony, as they laid her upon a sofa in her boudoir, "are you ill? are youin pain?"
"Give way, daughter, and let the tears come," said Mr. Dinsmore, tenderlybending over her and gently smoothing her hair; "it will do you good,bring relief to the overstrained nerves and full heart."
Even as he spoke the barriers which for so many hours had been steadily,firmly resisting the grief and anguish swelling in her breast, suddenlygave way, and tears poured out like a flood.
Her husband knelt by her side and drew her head to a resting-place on hisbreast, while her father, with one of her hands in his, softly repeatedtext after text speaking of the bliss of the blessed dead.
She grew calmer. "Don't be alarmed about me, dear Edward, dear papa," shesaid in her low sweet tones. "I don't think I am ill; and heavy as ourloss is, dearest husband, how we must rejoice for her. Let me go andperform the last office of love for her--our precious mother; I am better;I am able."
"No, no, you are not; you must not," both answered in a breath. "AuntDinah and Aunt Chloe will do it all tenderly and lovingly as if she hadbeen of their own flesh and blood," add
ed Mr. Travilla, in tremblingtones.
Elsie's Womanhood Page 19
