Part 32 (1/2)
We sang a hymn, and then Mother Hubbard prayed--prayed in a gentle voice which had much humility in it, but an a.s.sured confidence which showed her to be on intimate terms with her Lord; and when she had finished I read the 103rd Psalm at her request, and we sang again.
Then she spoke, and her voice gathered strength as she proceeded. I cannot write down all she said, but some of the sentences are burned into my memory, though the connections have escaped me.
”We will not have an experience meeting to-night, my friends, because I want to speak to you, and G.o.d has given me strength to do so. I am weak in body, but my spirit was never stronger. It is the spirit which is the real life, so I was never more alive. I have thought a good deal lately on those words:
”'Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall. But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength: they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.'
”'They that wait upon the Lord' shall do this. Not just the strong and powerful, but poor, weak old women like me; aye, those weaker still who are helpless on sick-beds; the paralysed and lame who cannot walk at all--all these shall 'renew their strength.' They are unable even to totter to the old pew in the house of G.o.d, so weak and shaky is their poor human frame; aye, but they shall 'mount up with wings as eagles.'
The eagle is a strong bird; it makes its nest on the cliffs of high mountains, it soars up and up into the clouds, and it can carry sheep in its talons, so great is its strength. And, do you realise it? they that wait upon the Lord are like that. Weak and worn out in body, but
”'Strong in the strength which G.o.d supplies Through His Eternal Son.'
”My friends, I thank G.o.d that in that sense I am strong to-night; and do you think that when I am so strong I am going to die? Never! Life is going to be fuller, richer, more abundant.”
I gazed upon Mother Hubbard in astonishment. She was not excited, but she was exalted. No earthly light was in her eyes, no earthly strength was in those triumphant tones. Death had laid his hand upon her but she shook him off and spoke like a conqueror. I looked at her members, and saw that every eye was fixed upon her, and that reverential fear held them immovable. There was a clock over the mantelpiece, and it ticked away slowly, solemnly, but no other sound disturbed the stillness.
”I have heard some of you speak often of your crosses, and G.o.d knows how heavy some of them have been, and how I have pitied and tried to help you. You will not think I am boasting when I say that I have had crosses to carry, too, but I have always endeavoured to make light of them, and I am so glad of that to-night. Because, dear friends, I realise very clearly now that to carry a cross that is laid upon us is to help the Master. I think Simon was a strong, kindly man, who was glad to carry the cross for Christ's sake. I like to think of him as pus.h.i.+ng his way through the crowd and saying: 'Let me help the Master: I will gladly carry it for Him.' And I want to say this: that all through my life when I have tried to carry my cross cheerfully the Master has always taken the heavier end--always!
”You will go on having crosses to carry so long as ever you love the Lord Jesus Christ; but remember this--all troubles are not crosses.
G.o.d has nothing to do with lots of our troubles. Indeed, I am not sure that what we call a trouble is ever a cross. That only is a cross which we carry for His sake. It is a privilege to carry a cross, and we ought to be glad when we are selected.
”'But suppose we fall under it?' some of you may say. Listen: 'They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength.' You forgot that.
'When I am weak then I am strong.' Why? Because the good Lord never asks us to carry a cross without giving us strength for the burden.
His grace is always sufficient for us. Never forget my words--they are perhaps the last I shall speak as your leader, and oh, my dear friends, how my heart yearns over you! how very dear to me is your truest welfare!--no trouble need ever o'erwhelm you, no temptation need ever cause you to fall, no weakness of the body need ever affect the strength of the soul, no darkness of earth need ever shut out the light of heaven, because--listen, 'Lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world'!”
She paused, and the women, unaccustomed to self-control, were sobbing audibly into their handkerchiefs, and Mother Hubbard noticed it.
”We will not sing a closing hymn,” she said; ”let us pray.”
The women knelt; but she merely leaned forward, with her hands clasped on the table in front of her, and commended them all to G.o.d. She prayed for each of them individually, using their Christian names, and remembering all their families and family difficulties. She prayed for the absent ones, for the toilworn and the sick; and she prayed for me--and may G.o.d in His mercy answer that prayer, then shall my life be blessed indeed.
When she had p.r.o.nounced the benediction in a very low voice we rose from our knees, and saw her with her face uplifted to heaven, and the calm of heaven spread over it, like the clear golden calm of a cloudless sunset. Then, slowly, the head dropped upon her hands; and when at length we tried to rouse her we found that she was beyond our call.
CHAPTER XXVIII
IN THE CRUCIBLE
Despite the squire's protests I remained in my own cottage until the Monday when Mother Hubbard's frail body was laid to rest in the little graveyard. There was nothing to fear, and I felt that I could not leave her there alone. She would have rebuked me, I know, and would have read me the lesson of the coc.o.o.n and the b.u.t.terfly; but I am most contented when I trust implicitly to my instincts, and my Inner Self bade me stay.
Practically all the village turned out to the funeral, and the chapel was crowded to its utmost capacity. It was a cheerful service, too, in spite of our tears, for the ministers and members had caught her spirit, and ”Lydia” was sung with a vigour and heartiness which I should have liked the dear old lady to witness. Perhaps she did: who knows?
The squire and I occupied the position of chief mourners, but the entire village sorrowed, as those only sorrow who have lost a friend that cannot be replaced. There is no other Mother Hubbard here, and how much she will be missed when trouble sits by the hearths of the people only time can make known.
When all was over I went straight to my new home at the Hall, and entered into possession of the lovely room which had been prepared for me. Every morning and afternoon I go to my work at the studio, but without the zest which makes duty a delight. The squire would like me to abandon the studio altogether and do my regular work at the Hall, but I cannot quite reconcile myself to the idea. After all, the studio is there, and as the weeks go by I shall lose the sense of desolation which is now a.s.sociated with the place, and which hangs like lead upon the wings of my spirit.
Yet what cause for grat.i.tude is mine! Though I have lost one true friend another is here to comfort and cheer me with never-failing insight and sympathy. How I enjoy these long evenings in the library, the quiet talks in the firelight, the hour which follows the lighting of the lamp, when I read aloud from the squire's favourite authors or the learned quarterlies; and best of all, the comments and discussions which enable me to plumb the depths of his mind and make me marvel at the extent of his knowledge. He likes me to sit on a stool at his feet as I did, ages ago, at Zermatt, resting my arm or book upon his knee and within easy reach of his caressing hand. Whatever I may have lost by coming to Windyridge I have certainly found affection, and I am woman enough to value it above all my losses.