GIVING COMFORT TO OTHERS
Three more years only remained to Charlotte of life in the dear old home of her infancy1. Those three years passed quietly, marked by no stirring events. On the 11th of December 1867, Otho St. George Hamilton, son of her sister Laura, died at the age of thirteen, after a long illness; and during these years Fanny continued steadily2 to fail. The delicacy3 developed into a case of decided4 consumption, but of a slow and lingering description. A few sentences are culled5 from the many letters which remain, belonging to this period.
TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.
‘Feb. 1867.
‘I wish my sweet Leila to receive a few lines on her birthday.... Tempus fugit, indeed. When you open this you will be thirteen years old. It seems to me as if each year now were growing more and more important; the stream is widening; the mind is opening; and ... may the heart be opening too to that Love which is beyond all earthly love.
‘I had a pleasant childhood. My mind was very active, as well as my bodily frame; and at your age I dare say that life lay before me, a bright, hope-inspiring thing. It is well that it should be so; it is a kind arrangement of Providence6 that the young should be usually full of energy and hope. I like to recall how I felt, that I may enter into the feelings of others.
‘Now of course I have not exactly the same kind of landscape before me as I had at thirteen. I am in my forty-sixth year, have[139] known care and sorrow, and have at present but feeble health. And yet, dear, I don’t want to exchange my landscape; I have no wish to go back. I have found that middle age has its deep joys, as well as early youth its sparkling ones. Sometimes I ask myself,—“Now, in my present position, if I had no pleasure in religion, if everything connected with that were cut off, what would be left me?—what would life be to me?” O Leila, what a tasteless, what a bitter thing! We want delights that will not grow old, that will never pall7, that will be just as fresh and lovely at eighty as at eighteen. Religion is not merely, as some seem to fancy, to prepare us for death, but to be the happiness of life. It calls indeed for the sacrifice of self-will in a hundred little ways; but it repays those little sacrifices a hundred times over. Just think what it is to realise such thoughts as these,—“The Lord Jesus loves me! I am His own! I shall see Him one day, and be with Him!” How can such thoughts ever lose their sweetness?’
TO THE SAME.
‘April 28, 1867.
‘How different your still, noiseless dwelling8 must be to ours at present! Not that we have much noise, but sometimes so much seems going on. Yesterday M—— A—— D—— and a young cousin came in the morning; then before they had left Cousin M—— E—— and four fine children, then Uncle St. George and his wife. All this before luncheon9; others came after it; and I went to the Poorhouse, and then lodging-hunting with Uncle St. George. He is so sweet and loving and good.... He delights Grandmamma.’
TO THE SAME.
‘July 1, 1867.
‘It is mournfully interesting to read my darling’s papers, of which L—— has brought home many. Her prose is usually lively; her poetry full of tenderness, often very sad.... The two latest dated poems were, I think, written August 14. They were called “An Early Grave” and “All is Vanity.” Every stanza10 of the first expresses desire for an early departure. The second thus beautifully closes—
“There’s rest beneath the yew11; I know
There’s deeper Rest in realms above;
The Saviour12’s Arm the valley through
Will me uphold with strengthening love;
My hope His Righteousness; my buckler, faith;
Why should I fear to tread the shades of death?”
[140]
‘If this really be the darling’s last written stanza, what a touching13 interest it gives it!’
TO MISS B. F. TUCKER.
‘Sept. 9, 1867.
‘Poor little Otho has rallied again, though the doctor holds out no hope of ultimate recovery. This is a sad time for my poor Laura, though there are sorer trials than that of bereavement14.’
The Hamiltons were at this time in great trouble, as they watched the long-drawn-out sufferings of their dying boy; and many letters were written by Charlotte to her favourite sister, full of intense feeling. Day by day she lived with them in their sorrow, anxiously looking out for fresh tidings, and thinking what she could say to comfort or soothe15.
TO MRS. HAMILTON.
‘Oct. 30, 1867.
‘Precious Sister,—Your touching letter has quickened the spirit of Prayer; but oh, I feel as if my prayers were often so weak and worthless. I want more faith, more earnestness. I have not time to write more, but could not let that letter be unanswered by your loving
‘C. M. T.’
TO THE SAME.
‘Nov. 9, 1867.
‘Fanny and I have been conversing16 to-night on the subject of your dear suffering boy. You long fervently17 to see him rejoicing in the prospect18 of departing and being with Christ. Perhaps the one obstacle to his being able to do so is the thought of parting from you. If his Mother were going with him, he may think, he would be happy to go.
‘Now to me, were I in your darling’s position, there would be comfort and pleasure in the idea—“Perhaps, as regards me, leaving the body will not be real separation from dear ones. Perhaps I may be allowed to come to them, and minister to them, and cheer them; though they cannot see me I may see them!” This idea does not appear opposed to Scripture19. The rich man in the parable20 believed that Lazarus could go to Earth; and Abraham never said that he could not. If dear Otho thought that he might possibly be permitted to watch over his Mother, and help to make her happy, and[141] be one of the first to welcome her to bliss21,—perhaps the real bitterness of death would for him seem taken away. It seems quite possible that dear Robin22 was by his child’s sick-bed, and that she saw him, when her face so lighted up with joy. “I believe in the Communion of Saints.”
‘Your dear boy is very young. A child’s religion seems almost to begin with the Fifth Commandment. We can hardly yet expect dear Otho to love the Lord whom he has not seen more than the parents whom he has seen and fondly loved. Do you not think, darling, that you are almost too anxious on the subject of Otho’s state of mind? He is only a lamb; and the Good Shepherd knows that he needs to be carried.
‘I should like to know when your dear boy takes the Holy Communion, that I may be with you in thought and in prayer. Otho is an invited guest to the Great Feast above; his robe is prepared by his Lord,—don’t fear, love, that it will not be very white and very fair....
‘P.S.—Nov. 10.—I have been thinking much of your dear one in church; and I open my note to add another reason suggested to my mind, as a cause why he may be unable ... to feel joy in the thought of departure. You and I, my Laura, have known many of God’s saints now in bliss; we have almost as many dear friends in the world of spirits as in this. Perhaps we are hardly aware of the influence which this has on our minds,—how it helps to make Heaven a home. Your dear boy may feel that he is going to enter amongst a great company of saints, almost every one of whom is a stranger to him. To one so reserved as Otho, this may be rather an awful thought. I wonder if it is a comfort to him to think of sweet Letitia and Christian[13] being there. Perhaps if you reminded him of that, it might remove a feeling which—if he entertains it—he might not like to mention even to you.’
TO THE SAME.
‘Nov. 13, 1867.
‘I thank God that He has made your darling willing to depart, even to leave you. Your note is deeply interesting; and I think you may feel that your prayers have been answered.... You must now only think of the “far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.” Probably every hour of suffering in some mysterious way enhances and increases future rapture,—rapture more intense than we can[142] conceive. The longer I live, the more convinced I feel that there is this mysterious connection—in the case of God’s children—between personal pain and future delight. So that, if we could, as we fain would, shield our treasures from suffering, we might be depriving them of some rich blessing23.
‘You are in the furnace, my precious sister,—a hotter furnace, perhaps, than that which tries your child. I need not repeat that whenever you want me, you have only to send for me. You and I understand each other! How sweet is the tie between us! Dear Mother is apt to indulge hopes of your boy’s recovery. I think that she hardly realises his state, and probably she scarcely knows how to write under the circumstances. She has had a cold these last few days, but is, I hope, throwing it off....
‘I send you a little book,[14] which I am sure will interest you. It has been a mournful pleasure to me to prepare it. Your lamb as well as mine will probably soon “be folded above.”’
TO MRS. HAMILTON.
‘Nov. 14, 1867.
‘My heart feels more with you, my Laura, in that still sick-room than here. Perhaps many angels are about you and your boy, though you see them not.
‘Like your dear invalid24, I am especially fond of St. Luke’s account of the dying thief. There is something so touching in his looking at such a moment to the Saviour, whose Blood, shed for his salvation25, was at that moment trickling26 down in his view; and there is something so sublime27 in our Lord’s conferring Eternal Life,—such a gift,—at the time when He was Himself undergoing the terrible sentence of death! We may envy your dear suffering child, my Laura, when we think how soon, in human expectation, his eyes will behold28 the King in His beauty.
‘O darling, you could hardly wish to keep him back, when the Master calls him,—calls him to His Home—His Arms!
‘I feel for your dear husband; this is a time of sore trial for him; but you suffer together. May God give you both “songs in the night.” Those songs are perhaps sweeter to Him than the Hallelujahs of the Angels.’
TO THE SAME.
‘Nov. 21, 1867.
‘How well I know that feeling which you describe,—the feeling of[143] being unable to pray fervently,—of being scarcely able to pray at all! This is probably caused ... by fatigue29 of body, and overstraining of mind and nerves. Perhaps God permits it, that we should just sink in complete helplessness at our Saviour’s Feet, and ask Him to pray for us, since we cannot pray for ourselves.... You may be like a very little child, that can’t even ask for what it needs, but yet trusts and fears not.’
TO MISS LEILA HAMILTON.
‘Dec. 11, 1867.
‘Your very very sad account of dear Otho received this morning makes one think that, even before this reaches you, the sufferer may have been called home! Oh what a blessing it is that it is indeed Home.... Dear Otho has had a sorely trying journey, wintry and wearisome indeed; but there is no shadow, never can be a shadow, on the Home to which he is bound. He will never have to leave it again, to learn the lesson of patience in pain. He will, through his Lord’s merits, be ready there to welcome the dear ones whom he is now leaving behind,—when they too may quit their school, and go to their Father in Heaven....
‘This is a solemn time for you, my Leila. I had reached the age of thirty before I ever looked upon that which is called death, in my own home. These events make the invisible world seem nearer. They should draw us upwards30; they should bring us closer to our God.’
TO MRS. HAMILTON.
‘Dec. 12, 1867.
‘Most precious Laura,—When Lady Catherine L——‘s only son was called, she sank on her knees, and said,—“My child, I wish you joy!” so wonderfully was she enabled to realise the happiness, the ecstasy31, of the freed spirit, rising up to the presence of her Saviour and God. Happy, happy Otho! No more to be pitied, but to be envied!
‘“O change, O wondrous32 change!
Burst are the prison bars,—
One moment past—how low
In mortal pangs,—and now
Beyond the stars!”
‘I will not write much to you now, darling. I am going to see your Freddie, but intend to tell him nothing.
[144]
‘Express my tender sympathy to your dear husband. God support you all.—Your loving
‘C. M. T.’
TO MRS. HAMILTON.
‘Jan. 14, 1868.
‘It was not with dry eyes, my beloved Laura, that I could read what was written in those volumes, to which a tenfold value is given by their being last Remembrances from your lately suffering, now blessed boy. Oh, with what a heavy heavy heart must you have put up those parcels, and written those inscriptions33! It will perhaps be a long time before you can realise with calm thankfulness that it is indeed so “well with the child” that you can rejoice in his safety, his happiness.... I am now much more disposed to praise for my angel-girl than to weep for her.... I can see so clearly the Love and Wisdom that took her Home. Presently, my precious sorrowing sister, you may feel the same about your boy. Your intense love will remain, for love is immortal34; your sorrow will die, for sorrow with Christ’s people is not immortal, thank God.—Your tenderly loving
‘C. M. Tucker.’
TO THE SAME.
‘I have enjoyed your dear letter, and it makes me feel thankful. I have often thought that freed spirits probably lead a life of delightful35 activity; none of the “burdens of the flesh” to fetter36 them down. The idea of spirits preaching to spirits is, however, rather new to me. But there seems nothing against it, and probability rather in its favour. That verse in St. Peter, to which you refer, certainly strengthens the idea; for the disciples37 are permitted in so many ways to follow their Master.
‘It is thus possible that, while you are weeping for your darling, if your eyes were opened, you might see him the bright, joyful38 centre of a little group of spirits of Indian children,[15] repeating to them the lessons which he first learned from you, but which he would now know better—oh, how much better!—than you could ever teach him. I am sure that you would not wish to take him back again to pain and weakness from such an occupation.’
[145]
TO THE SAME.
‘April 14, 1868.
‘My own sweet Laura,—I feel that this month must be full of heavy recollections to you; and oh, it is hard to have a bright face to hide a bleeding heart. I hope that you will not put any restraint upon yourself with me.... Easter has its peculiar39 message of hope and joy to the mourner. Nature, bursting into new life and beauty, repeats the message, gives it to us as it were in an illumination of green leaves and bright blossoms. The Church says, “Christ is risen indeed!”—and all around us joyfully40 adds, “And we shall rise again!” Your parting with your boy is over; now only the meeting is before you. The shadows fall behind; the glowing sunshine is in front.’
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infancy
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| n.婴儿期；幼年期；初期 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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culled
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| v.挑选，剔除( cull的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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pall
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| v.覆盖，使平淡无味；n.柩衣，棺罩；棺材；帷幕 | |
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dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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stanza
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| n.（诗）节，段 | |
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yew
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| n.紫杉属树木 | |
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saviour
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| n.拯救者，救星 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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bereavement
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| n.亲人丧亡，丧失亲人，丧亲之痛 | |
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soothe
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| v.安慰；使平静；使减轻；缓和；奉承 | |
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conversing
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
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fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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scripture
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| n.经文，圣书，手稿；Scripture:(常用复数)《圣经》，《圣经》中的一段 | |
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parable
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| n.寓言，比喻 | |
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bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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robin
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| n.知更鸟，红襟鸟 | |
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blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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salvation
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| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
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trickling
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| n.油画底色含油太多而成泡沫状突起v.滴( trickle的现在分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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sublime
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| adj.崇高的，伟大的；极度的，不顾后果的 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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wondrous
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| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
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inscriptions
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| （作者）题词( inscription的名词复数 )； 献词； 碑文； 证劵持有人的登记 | |
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immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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fetter
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| n./vt.脚镣，束缚 | |
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disciples
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| n.信徒( disciple的名词复数 )；门徒；耶稣的信徒；（尤指）耶稣十二门徒之一 | |
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joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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joyfully
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| adv. 喜悦地, 高兴地 | |
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