Watch Work Wait | Page 7

seed she was sowing was taking root.
She had, however, one trouble concerning him, and not being able to discern clearly what was her duty, it gave her more anxiety than even her poverty. His love for sketching could not be repressed. She saw that he shared his father's talent largely, but remembering what her husband's views in reference to the cultivation of the noble art of painting had been, the struggle between maternal pride and the natural yearnings of a mother's heart to gratify a darling and worthy child, in opposition to what seeming duty demanded, can scarcely be imagined. Her late husband's opinions, tempered as they always were by judgment and prudence, had acquired a character of sacredness in her view; but when William, in showing her his sums, showed also the rude but spirited sketches he had drawn on the border of his slate, she saw that the gift was from God, and she could not condemn, although she dared not praise. She was afraid of entailing misery on him by fostering a taste beyond what his means would permit him to gratify. He had no present prospect but that of earning his bread by the sorest labour. Even if his talent were an extraordinary one, it would take a long time to cultivate it to a profitable point; and in the meantime, how was he to be supported?
She told all this to her son; but when he begged her, as his only recreation (for he never played with any boys except George Herman, as good a boy as himself), to let him look over his father's portfolio of sketches, could she deny the favour? or was she wrong? Nor could she forbid some pen-and-ink sketches, in which she recognised familiar objects, although she warned him against giving offence by caricaturing; and while she described to him the wonders of this glorious earth, with its embosomed treasures of mines and minerals, and made him read in his Bible how God had created all and called it good, she also showed him that man was the crowning work;--beloved of God, notwithstanding his rebellion; made only a little lower than the angels, crowned with dignity and honour; and so loved by the Saviour, that he came to save those who otherwise would have been lost; and still bearing much of the original impress in which he was created. She explained to him how wrong it is to make game of the peculiarities of any human being, ridicule his infirmities, or win a reputation by exhibiting his defects; bidding him always, at the close of her lecture, to read the sermon delivered on the mount, and to walk by its rule, and he would not fail to do right.
There were times, however, when the mother's heart would almost overcome this resolve. In her lonely hours fancy would portray her son's future; and when does maternal hope discover aught but a glorious one? She thought of what he might be, could he go abroad to study the works of the old masters; how, with his genius (for she knew not that taste was often mistaken for genius) and persevering industry, her boy might yet win a high place in the world, as many others as poor as he had done. But she was too sensible to let her thoughts dwell long on this flattering subject, and resolved to do what she considered right as present duty, committing the issue to God, in whom she so implicitly trusted.
Christmas-day came round again, and it was a mournful one in the home of the widow and fatherless. Margaret had changed much during the year: her face was deathly pale, silver lines showed themselves among her dark hair, and her usually placid and subdued expression was exchanged for a look of pain. A harassing cough troubled her by day and prevented her resting at night; an accompanying weakness created some little anxiety as to what its issue might be; but, with the hoping spirit which is ever attendant on that insidious disease called consumption, she believed that the coming spring would restore her.
It came with its wealth of sunshine, and renovated the earth to promise of fruitfulness and beauty,--beautiful type of the resurrection, when man shall rise to glorious immortality. All nature rejoiced in its presence; the flowers came forth and filled the air with healthful odours; the birds warbled as they built their nests; the merry children rejoiced as they played on the green, and exulted in the liberty the vernal season bestowed. But to the widow spring brought no renewal of health; and now, finding herself unable to wash, she consulted a physician, who told her it was too late; the disease had made large progress, and she could not live through the year!
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