I
suppose they are a necessary part of that whole providential plan by
which God moulds and fashions and tempers the human soul, just as my
petty, but incessant household cares are. If I had nothing to do but
love my husband and children and perform for them, without let or
hindrance, the sweet ideal duties of wife and mother, how content I
should be to live always in this world! But what would become of me
if I were not called, in the pursuit of these duties and in contact
with real life, to bear restless nights, ill-health, unwelcome news,
the faults of servants, contempt, ingratitude of friends, my own
failings, lowness of spirits, the struggle in overcoming my
corruption, and a score of kindred trials!"
Bishop Wilson charges us to bear all these things "as unto God," and
"with the greatest privacy." How seldom I have met them save as lions
in my way, that I would avoid if I could, and how I have tormented my
friends by tedious complaints about them! Yet when compared with the
great tragedies of suffering I have both witnessed and suffered, how
petty they seem!
Our household, bereft of mother's and James' bright presence, now
numbers just as many members as it did before they left us. Another
angel has flown into it, though not on wings, and I have four darling
children, the baby, who can hardly be called a baby now, being nearly
two years old.
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