The Continental Monthly, Vol. III, No. V, May, 1863: Devoted to Literature and National PolicyVarious
History
The Continental Monthly, Vol. III, No. V, May, 1863: Devoted to Literature and National Policy
Various
Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; United States -- Politics and government -- 19th century -- Periodicals
'Continual dropping will wear away a stone, and continual thinking will
wear a hollow into the stoniest of mysteries. At length, through all the
mists of proximate causes and natural laws, some glorious truths became
clear to her. The near and the visible receded to their proper
importance, and she learned to hold principles and ideas more dear than
the externals which embody them. She saw that God loves His children
equally, and though the laws of nature must take their course, there is
room for each result in His design; and in the infinite of His heart and
His work each individual has place and purpose. She found, too, that
angels laden with joy might descend and ascend between His soul and hers
without a ladder made of earthly triumphs and successes. Thus in place
of rebellion came happy acquiescence.
'But she was not yet contented. She was convinced that there was a life
for her which she could not or would not lead if she were like others;
but this life she could not find. She saw no intimations of it in
herself. She had no genius for any special thing, and she continued
restless and disturbed, wondering what it was appointed to her to do. At
length it came to her.
'One day, as she was passing the house of her physician, through the
open window she saw and heard that which induced her to go in and offer
her services. A man in a disgusting stage of intoxication had cut his
arm badly, and had come to have it bound up. His little child was with
him, shrieking with terror, her face and clothes covered with dirt. The
doctor roughly and with ill-concealed repugnance was caring for the
wound, while the cook, with no attempt at concealment, was loudly
expressing her disapprobation of the whole proceeding. Laetitia assisted
the doctor, and washed off the blood; then took the child home with her,
bathed her, gave her clean clothes and a dinner, and sent her away with
a new happiness in her heart. While she was doing all this, she found
what she had been seeking. There are very many things in this world
disagreeable in the extreme, which ought to be done with interest, with
care, with _love_. Why should she not undertake to do them? In
themselves they would be repugnant, but _she_ would do them for God, and
she loved her Heavenly Father so well that the hardest thing done for
Him would be the sweetest. In a day or two the feeling settled itself:
it was firmly impressed upon her mind that in these employments she
would have rest.
'One morning, about two years perhaps after the first day of her sorrow,
she dropped into my room with something of her old suddenness, and,
after the customary greetings, said simply: 'I am happy again now.'
''You need not tell me that: I can see it in your face.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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