STITCHING AND TALKING.
"IT'S no make-believe of a home that Robert can take up with after
this," thought Mrs. Hayes, as she sat in the easy-chair, leaning her
head upon the little pillow at the top of it, with her eyes closed as
if for a nap, but her thoughts extremely busy. "I wonder if there are
any more Susans and Millys in the world."
It was a comfortable home, certainly, with "a place for everything, and
everything in its place," and yet no show, no fuss, as if things were
not to be touched and used, but hung or stood to be looked at.
The general sitting-room had the oven and the ironing-board, while all
unsightly operations in washing or cooking were carried on in the back
kitchen, where no one was disturbed by them, and where unavoidable
greasy doings, and sundries, such as knife-board, blacking bottles,
black pans and kettles, had it all to themselves.
Then there was also "a room to be quiet in," where solitude, or a
confidential chat, or a company tea-party could be had if required;
a neatly-furnished parlour, with a little fire nearly every day in
winter, keeping away the mouldy smell which inhabits most "best rooms"
everywhere. And what a luxury is such a room to one who is obliged to
be in noise and confusion all day, among machinery or mankind, the
strife of tongues, or the bustle of busy streets! There are times when
a man would be quite alone, away even from the easy chat and playful
humours of his own children, to rest, or think, or to hold communion
with the gracious "God from whom all blessings flow," and it is happy
to have, if possible, such a retreat.
Mrs. Hayes did not know where Robert was to look for a home to be
compared with that of his childhood and youth; but she thought it would
be well to prove that he had better not delude himself into the hope
of it where his eyes, if not his heart, were attracted to seek it. So
she insisted to Susan that her black silk dress must needs be turned at
once, and that Miss Lydia Brooks was the person she wished to do it.
Susan looked in the old lady's face, but could read no particular
explanation there, and kindly agreed; though some thoughts of her own
would have made her prefer some one else.
So Miss Brooks came in a fashionable bonnet, and her hair dressed like
that of the most stylish young lady in B—, so far as she could master
it to her will, with a bright ribbon interwoven with it, all very well
for that young lady in evening toilette, but somewhat out of character
for the young dressmaker at nine o'clock in the morning, sitting down
to work in a simple cottage home.
"Have you forgotten an apron, my dear?" said Mrs. Hayes. "I'm sure
somebody will lend you one."
"Oh, I don't wear them, thank you," said Miss Brooks; "my dress won't
take any harm."
"Nay, it was the other way I was thinking of," said Mrs. Hayes. "When I
used to do my own work, I had a large white apron to keep it all fresh
and clean. However, it doesn't matter for this, which is black to begin
with."
Things went on pretty smoothly for some time until Lydia, who had put
much restraint on her tongue during the morning, said, "I do wonder why
Mrs. Taylor didn't bring up Milly to the dressmaking; she is such a
nice-looking girl, a great deal too nice for a servant."
"My dear, what is a servant?" asked Mrs. Hayes, gently.
"A servant! Why, one who goes out for hire to—"
"For a year or more, instead of a day," interrupted Mrs. Hayes. "Yes,
what else?"
[Illustration: MISS LYDIA BROOKS VISITS THE OLD LADY.]
"Well, one who is obliged to give up all her time to other people, and
can never do as she likes, nor go out, nor take any pleasure. She can
never hope to do like—like—one who has not been a servant," hesitated
poor Lydia, feeling it rather awkward to explain.
"Like a lady, you mean, don't you, my dear?"
"Not exactly," murmured Lydia, afraid of being drawn too far.
"Not exactly a lady, but a person as much like one as possible.
Imitations are not good for much, my dear; and as it didn't please the
Almighty to make you, and Milly, and me ladies, we are more respectable
as our own natural selves than trying to imitate and seem what we
are not. But may I tell you what a servant really is? A good one, of
course, I mean."
"Oh, if you choose," said Lydia, feeling much injured by being classed
with an old woman, who perhaps had been a servant for anything she
knew, and still more offended at the implied suggestion of not being a
lady herself.
"Well, a good servant is a favoured, honoured person, who has it in her
power to be one of the greatest blessings on earth; to be useful as no
other has opportunity to be useful, and whose position and name are
adopted by our Lord himself during his life on earth, and used besides
to set forth the highest praise He could bestow on one He wished to
honour, 'Well done, thou good and faithful "servant!" enter thou into
the joy of thy Lord.'"
"But He meant any one who did well; even a lord or a lady might be
'His' servant," said Lydia.
"True, but the approval is not bestowed on the lord or the lady, it
is bestowed on the 'faithful servant,' which you and I can be if we
will. I expect by-and-by to find that many a lowly Christian servant
will take her place in heaven by the side of her master and mistress,
or perhaps above them. But assuredly none who set themselves up above
service here in the station in which God has placed them, will be
likely to see it, or have any part in that place of honour; for it is
written, you know, 'He that exalteth himself shall be abased; and he
that humbleth himself shall be exalted;' and it must come true either
in this world or the next, and perhaps in both."
Mrs. Hayes said no more for some time, leaving her words to work, as
she hoped, and Lydia stitched away in silent displeasure. She began to
dislike the old lady with a decided ill-will, and determined to hold
her own opinions in spite of her.
So, after a while, she began again,—
"You seem to think nobody should try to get on in the world, Mrs.
Hayes."
"What is 'getting on,' my dear?" said Mrs. Hayes, gently. "Let us
understand each other's words."
"Why, I mean, of course, rising in the world, getting higher and
richer, and more respectable, of course."
"Tell me first, my dear, what part of you is to rise—where would you
rise to—why seek riches—and in whose eyes would you be respected?"
"Dear me, how particular you are about words!" said Lydia, half
inclined to laugh off the pressure she had provoked.
"I always like to make sure that I understand what I'm talking about,"
said the old lady, quietly; "it saves 'idle words,' and we shall have
to 'give account' of our words some day, you know. Come, let me hear
how you explain yours. I am an old woman, and not very loveable, I
know, but I would gladly help you to a right judgment if you'll let me."
"Oh, I don't see that I've taken up with a wrong one yet," said Lydia,
pertly; "but I mean this: improving one's position, taking a place
above that one is born in, and associating with higher people; rich
enough to do anything you please without considering expense, and be
looked up to as of some consequence in the world. That's what I mean.
And I could be generous, too, and give away a great deal to charities,
and people in distress."
"You have explained yourself very well indeed," said Aunt Hayes; "and
now I am quite able to answer your first question. I do 'not' think it
desirable to 'try to get on in the world' in that sense, and for those
objects."
"And why, pray? It is your turn to explain now."
"I will not answer you as a matter of mere opinion," replied Mrs.
Hayes, "because some people don't care for an old woman's opinions; but
I will give you the words of those who spoke and wrote for all times,
and all persons, and who were safe from errors of judgment in the
statements made.
"'Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus; who being in
the form of God thought it not robbery to be equal with God, but made
Himself of no reputation, and took upon Him the form of a servant.'
"'Having food and raiment let us be therewith content; but they that
will be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish
and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition. For
the love of money is the root of all evil; which while some coveted
after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through
with many sorrows.'
"'Before honour is humility.'
"'God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace to the humble,' and 'they
that walk in pride He is able to abase.'
"'Let your conversation be without covetousness, and be content with
such things as ye have; for He hath said, I will never leave thee, nor
forsake thee.'
"I could go on, but these are sufficient reasons, I think, against the
course you describe. They express the judgment of the Lord God, who
knows the true value of things; and as our deceitful hearts propose to
us as a good reason for wishing to be rich and important, the power of
relieving distress and giving liberally, He has settled that for us too:
"'Though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor . . . and have not
charity, it profiteth me nothing.'
"'If there be first a willing mind, it is accepted according to that a
man hath, and not according to that he hath not.'"
"Then what's the good of working, if we ar'n't to wish to get on?" said
Lydia.
"Because it is also written,—
"'Not slothful in business, fervent in spirit, serving the Lord.'
"We are born in the position and under the circumstances which God
wills, and in which He will bless and prosper us; and if He chooses
to raise us to anything higher, He will provide it, and fit us for
it; but, to be planning and struggling after wealth and honour to
please ourselves is both ignorant and presumptuous, very irritating
to the temper and unsatisfactory to the heart after all. It is just
quarrelling with God, and fighting against His providence; and when the
end comes, supposing we have succeeded, the most we shall have gained
will be wisdom to answer the solemn question once asked by the Lord
Jesus,—
"'What shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world and lose
his own soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?'
"Think of all this, and live for something better than covetousness
of things above you. You can serve God where He has placed you, and a
queen can do no more."
[Illustration]