Margaret Smiths Journal | Page 8

a quieter and happier life with him than with such an one as Sir Thomas; and that the words of the Quaker maid, whom we met at the spring on the river side, had disquieted her not a little, inasmuch as they did seem to confirm her own fears and misgivings. But her fancy is so bedazzled with the goodly show of her suitor, that I much fear he can have her for the asking, especially as her father, to my knowledge, doth greatly favor him. And, indeed, by reason of her gracious manner, witty and pleasant discoursing, excellent breeding, and dignity, she would do no discredit to the choice of one far higher than this young gentleman in estate and rank.

June 10.
I went this morning with Rebecca to visit Elnathan Stone, a, young neighbor, who has been lying sorely ill for a long time. He was a playmate of my cousin when a boy, and was thought to be of great promise as he grew up to manhood; but, engaging in the war with the heathen, he was wounded and taken captive by them, and after much suffering was brought back to his home a few months ago. On entering the house where he lay, we found his mother, a careworn and sad woman, spinning in the room by his bedside. A very great and bitter sorrow was depicted on her features; it was the anxious, unreconciled, and restless look of one who did feel herself tried beyond her patience, and might not be comforted. For, as I learned, she was a poor widow, who had seen her young daughter tomahawked by the Indians; and now her only son, the hope of her old age, was on his death-bed. She received us with small civility, telling Rebecca that it was all along of the neglect of the men in authority that her son had got his death in the wars, inasmuch as it was the want of suitable diet and clothing, rather than his wounds, which had brought him into his present condition. Now, as Uncle Rawson is one of the principal magistrates, my sweet cousin knew that the poor afflicted creature meant to reproach him; but her good heart did excuse and forgive the rudeness and distemper of one whom the Lord had sorely chastened. So she spake kindly and lovingly, and gave her sundry nice dainty fruits and comforting cordials, which she had got from Boston for the sick man. Then, as she came to his bedside, and took his hand lovingly in her own, he thanked her for her many kindnesses, and prayed God to bless her. He must have been a handsome lad in health, for he had a fair, smooth forehead, shaded with brown, curling hair, and large, blue eyes, very sweet and gentle in their look. He told us that he felt himself growing weaker, and that at times his bodily suffering was great. But through the mercy of his Saviour he had much peace of mind. He was content to leave all things in His hand. For his poor mother's sake, he said, more than for his own, he would like to get about once more; there were many things he would like to do for her, and for all who had befriended him; but he knew his Heavenly Father could do more and better for them, and he felt resigned to His will. He had, he said, forgiven all who ever wronged him, and he had now no feeling of anger or unkindness left towards any one, for all seemed kind to him beyond his deserts, and like brothers and sisters. He had much pity for the poor savages even, although he had suffered sorely at their hands; for he did believe that they had been often ill-used, and cheated, and otherwise provoked to take up arms against us. Hereupon, Goodwife Stone twirled her spindle very spitefully, and said she would as soon pity the Devil as his children. The thought of her mangled little girl, and of her dying son, did seem to overcome her, and she dropped her thread, and cried out with an exceeding bitter cry,--"Oh, the bloody heathen! Oh, my poor murdered Molly! Oh, my son, my son!"--"Nay, mother," said the sick man, reaching out his hand and taking hold of his mother's, with a sweet smile on his pale face,--"what does Christ tell us about loving our enemies, and doing good to them that do injure us? Let us forgive our fellow-creatures, for we have all need of God's forgiveness. I used to feel as mother does," he said, turning to us; "for I went into the war with a design to spare neither young nor old of the enemy.
"But I thank God that even in