HEART'S CORE.
They were come into great want, poor Henry and Maria: they had not
wherewithal for daily sustenance. The few remaining trinkets, books,
clothes, and other available moveables had been gradually pledged away,
and to their full amount--at least, the pawnbroker said so. That unlucky
publication of the law book, so speedily condemned and heartlessly
ridiculed, had wrecked all Henry's possible prospects in the courts; and
as for help from friends--the casual friends of common life--he was too
proud to beg for that--too sensitive, too self-respectful. Relations he
had none, or next to none--that distant cousin of his mother's, the
Mac-something, whom he had never even seen, but who, nevertheless, had
acted as his guardian.
Much as he suspected Dillaway in the matter of that bitter breach of
trust, he had neither ready money to proceed against him, (nor, when he
came to think it over) any legal grounds at all to go upon; for, as we
have said before, even granting there should be evidence adduced of the
transfer of stock from the name of Clements to that of Dillaway, still
it was a notorious fact that the "Independent bank" had failed, whereto
the stock-broker could swear he had intrusted it. In short, shrewd Jack
had managed all that affair to admiration; and poor Clements was ruined
without hope, and defrauded without remedy.
Then, again, we already know how that Lady Dillaway was dead, so help
from her was simply impossible; and the miserable father Sir Thomas was
kept too closely up to the mark of resolute anger by slanderous John, to
give them any aid, if they applied to him; but, in truth, as to personal
application, Henry would not for pride, and Maria now could not, for her
near-at-hand motherly condition. Her frequent letters, as we may be
sure, were intercepted; and, even if Sir Thomas now and then yearned
after his lost child, it had become a matter of physical impossibility
to find out where she lived. Thus were they hopelessly sinking, day by
day, into all the bitter waves of want. Not but that Henry strived, as
we have seen, and shall yet see: still his endeavours had been very
nearly fruitless--and, perchance, till all available moveables had been
pawned outright, very feeble too. Now, however, that Maria, in her
sorrow and her need, must soon become a mother, the state of things grew
terrible indeed; their horizon was all over black with clouds.
No: not all over. There is light under the darkness, a growing light
that shall dispel the darkness; a precious light upon their souls, the
early dawn of Heaven's eternal day; God's final end in all their
troubles, the reaping-time of joy for their sowing-time of tears.
Without cant, affectation, or hypocrisy, there is but one panacea for
the bruised or broken heart, available alike in all times, all places,
and all circumstances: and he who knows not what that is, has more to
learn than I can teach him. That pure substantial comfort is born of
Heaven's hope, and faith in Heaven's wisdom; it is a solid confidence in
God's great love, but faintly shadowed out by all the charities of
earth. Human affections in their manifold varieties are little other
than an echo of that Voice, "Come unto me; Comfort ye, comfort ye; I
will be a Father unto you, and ye shall be my sons and my daughters; thy
Maker is thy Husband; he hath loved thee with an everlasting love; when
thou goest through the fire, I will be with thee, through the waters,
they shall not overflow thee; eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither
hath it entered into the mind of man to conceive the blessings which His
love hath laid in store for _thee_."
Heart's-ease in heart's-affliction--this they found in God; turning to
Him with all their hearts, and pouring out their hearts before Him, they
trusted in Him heartily for both worlds' good. Therefore did He give
them their heart's desire, satisfying all their mind: wherefore did they
love each other now with a newly-added plenitude of love, mutually in
reference to Him who loved them, and gave Himself for them: therefore
did they feel in their distresses more gladness at their hearts, than in
the days of luxury and affluence, the increase of their oil and their
wine.
For this is the great end of all calamities. God doth not willingly
afflict: trouble never cometh without an urgent cause; and though man in
his perverseness often misses all the prize of purity, whilst he pays
all the penalty of pain; still the motive that sent sorrow was the
same--O, that there were a better heart in them!
In many modes the heart of man is tried, as gold must be refined, by
many methods; and happiest is the heart, that, being tried by many,
comes purest out of all. If prosperity melts it as a flux, well; but
better too than well, if the acid of affliction afterwards eats away all
unseen impurities; whereas, to those with whom the world is in their
hearts, affluence only hardens, and penury embitters, and thus, though
burnt in many fires, their hearts are dross in all. Like those sullen
children in the market-place, they feel no sympathies with heaven or
with earth: unthankful in prosperity, unsoftened by adversity, well may
it be said of them, Hearts of stone, hearts of stone!
Not of such were Henry and Maria: naturally warm in affections and
generous in sympathies, it needed but the pilot's hand to steer their
hearts aright: the energies of life were there, both fresh and full,
lacking but direction heavenwards; and chastisement wisely interposed to
wean those yearning spirits from the brief and feverish pursuits of
unsatisfying life, to the rest and the rewards of an eternity. Then were
they wedded indeed, heart answering to heart; then were they strong
against all the ills of life, those hearts that were established by
grace; then spake they often one to another out of the abundance of
their hearts; and in spite of all their sorrows, they were happy, for
their hearts were right with God.
Let the grand idea suffice, unencumbered by the multitude of details.
Whatsoever things are true, honest and just; whatsoever things are pure,
lovely, or of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any
praise--believe of those twin hearts that God had given them all.
Patience, hope, humility; faith, tenderness, and charity; prayer, trust,
benevolence, and joy: this was the lot of the afflicted! It was good for
them that they had been in trouble; for they had gained from it a wealth
that is above the preciousness of rubies, deservedly dearer to their
hearts than the thousands of gold and silver.
What a contrast then was shown between God's kindness and man's
coldness! No one of their fellows seemed to give them any heed: but He
cared for them, and on Him they cast their cares. Former friends
appeared to stand aloof, self-dependent and unsympathizing; but God was
ever near, kindly bringing help in every extremity, which always seemed
at hand, yet ever kept away: smoothing the pillow of sickness,
comforting the troubled spirit, and treading down calamity and calumny
and care; as a conqueror conquering for them. So, they learned the
priceless wisdom which adversity would teach to all on whom she
frowneth; when earthly hopes are wrecked, to anchor fast on God; and if
affluence should ever come again, to aid the poor afflicted with
heartiness, beneficence, and home-taught sympathy.