"I suoi Pensieri in lui Dormir non ponno:"
which, being interpreted, means, "His Thoughts would let him and his
Daughter take no rest."
_12th_.
I know not that any one but Father hath ever concerned themselves to
imagine the Anxieties of the blessed Virgin during her Son's forty Days'
mysterious Absence. No wonder that
"Within her Breast, tho' calm, her Breast, tho' pure,
Motherly Fears got Head."
Father hath touched her with a very tender and reverent Hand, dwelling
less on her than he did on _Eve_, whom he with perfect Beauty adorned,
onlie to make her Sin appear more Sad. Well, we know not ourselves; but
methinks I should not have transgrest as she did, neither, for an Apple.
_15th_.
And now I have transgrest about a Pin! O me! what weak, wicked Wretches
we are! "Behold, how great a Matter a little Fire kindleth!" And the
Tongue is a Fire, an unruly Member. Sure, when I was writing, at
Father's Dictation, such heavy Charges against _Eve_, I privily thought I
was better than she; and, sifting the Doings of _Mary_ and _Anne_ through
a somewhat censorious Judgment, maybe I thought I was better than they.
Alas! we know not our own selves. And so, dropping a Stitch in my
Knitting, I must needs cry out--"Here, any of you . . . oh, Mother! do
bring me a Pin." My Sisters, as Ill-luck would have it, not being by,
cries she, "Forsooth, Manners have come to a fine Pass in these Days!
Bring her a Pin, quotha!" Instead of making answer, "Well, 'twas
disrespectful; I ask your Pardon;" I must mutter, "I see what I'm valued
at--less than a Pin."
"_Deb_, don't be unduteous," says Father to me. "Woulde it not have been
better to fetch what you wanted, than strangely ask your Mother to bring
it?"
"And thereby spoil my Work," answered I; "but 'tis no Matter."
"Tis a great Matter to be uncivil," says Father.
"Oh! dear Husband, do not concern yourself," interrupts Mother; "the
Girl's incivility is no new Matter, I protest."
On this, a Battle of Words on both sides, ending in Tears, Bitterness,
and my being sent by Father to my Chamber till Dinner. "And, _Deb_," he
adds, gravely, but not harshly, "take no Book with you, unless it be your
_Bible_."
Soe, hither, with swelling Heart, I have come. I never drew on myself
such Condemnation before--at least, since childish Days; and could be
enraged with Mother, were I not enraged with myself. I'm in no Hurry for
Dinner-time; I cannot sober down. My Temples beat, and my Throat has a
great Lump in it. Why was _Nan_ out of the Way? Yet, would she have
made Things better? I was in no Fault at first, that's certain; Mother
took Offence where none was meant; but I meant Offence afterwards. Lord,
have mercy upon me! I can ask Thy Forgiveness, though not hers. And I
could find it in me to ask Father's too, and say, "I have sinned against
Heaven, and in thy . . . thy _Hearing_.'" And now I come to write that
Word, I have a Mind to cry; and the Lump goes down, and I feel earnest to
look into my _Bible_, and more humbled towards Mother. And . . . what is
it Father says?--
"What better can I do, than to the Place
Repairing, where he judged me, there confess
Humbly my Fault, and Pardon beg, with Tears
Of Sorrow unfeign'd, and Humiliation meek?"
. . . He met me at the very first Word. "I knew you would," he said; "I
knew the kindest Thing was to send you to commune with your own Heart in
your Chamber, and be still. 'Tis there we find the Holy Spirit and Holy
Saviour in waiting for us; and in the House where they abide, as long as
they abide in it, there is no Room for _Satan_ to enter. But let this
Morning's Work, _Deb_, be a Warning to you, not thus to transgress again.
As long as we are in peaceful Communion among ourselves, there is a fine,
invisible Cobweb, too clear for mortal Sight, spun from Mind to Mind,
which the least Breath of Discord rudely breaks. You owe to your Mother
a Daughter's Reverence; and if you behave like a Child, you must look to
be punisht like a Child."
"I am not a mere Baby, neither," I said.
"No," he replied. "I see you can make Distinction between _Teknia_ and
_Paidia_; but a Baby is the more inoffensive and less responsible Agent
of the two. If you are content to be a Baby in Grace, you must not
contend for a Baby's Immunities. I have heard a Baby cry pretty loudly
about a Pin."
This shut my Mouth close enough.
"You are now," he added gently, "nearly as old as your Mother was when I
married her."