CHAPTER XII.
CHANGES AT PINE FARM.
After her father's death, Mary was no longer the bright happy girl shehad been before. Even her favourite flowers seemed to have lost alltheir beauty, and the pine trees near the farm looked as though theywere clothed in mourning. From time to time she attended the church atErlenbrunn; and when here she never failed to visit her father's grave.On every opportunity she went to this sacred spot to weep for herdeparted parent, and she never left the grave without having made freshresolutions to ignore the pleasures of the world, and to live only toGod. As time went on her grief gradually moderated, but she soon hadnew trials to undergo.
Great changes took place in Pine Farm. The good farmer had given thefarm to his only son, an amiable, good-tempered young man, but unhappyin his choice of a wife, whom he had married a short time before. Shewas a handsome woman, and possessed of considerable means; but she wasvain to a degree, and cared for nothing but money. Pride and greed hadgradually imprinted on her features an expression of harshness sostriking that, with all her beauty, her looks were repellent. She wasviolently opposed to religion, and was thus without any restraint onher conduct. By every means in her power she sought to make the livesof her husband's parents miserable. If she knew that anything wouldgive them pleasure, she delighted in doing the contrary, and when shegave them the food which was their due, according to the contract theyhad made with their son, it was always with a bad grace, and in agrudging spirit.
The good old man and his wife lived the greater part of their time in alittle back room, seldom appearing outside. As for their son, he led amiserable life; for his wife overwhelmed him with constant abuse, andwas constantly reminding him of the money she had brought him. Being ofa peaceable disposition, and averse to quarrelling and disputing, hebore his sufferings in silence. His wife would never quietly allow himto visit his parents, for fear, as she said, he would give themsomething secretly. In the evening, after he had finished his work, heused to try to find an opportunity to visit them, when he wouldcomplain to them of his hard lot.
"Well," said his father, "so it is. You suffered yourself to be dazzledby the thought of her gold, and to be fascinated by her good looks. Iyielded too easily to your wishes, and thus we are punished. We shouldhave taken the advice of old James, who was an experienced man andnever approved of this match when it was talked of. I well rememberevery word he said on the subject, and I have thought of it many atime. Do you remember," said he to his wife, "our having said that tenthousand florins make a handsome sum. 'A handsome sum!' said James,'no; for the flowers you see in your garden are a thousand times morebeautiful. Perhaps you mean to say it is a large and heavy sum. I willacknowledge that. He must have good shoulders to bear it without beingbowed down to the earth, and without becoming a poor wretch, unable tolift his head to heaven. Why then do you wish for so much money? Youhave never wanted anything; you have always had more than sufficient.Believe me, too much money produces pride. Rain is a useful andnecessary thing, but when too much falls there is danger of itdestroying the most healthy plants of the garden.'
"These were exactly the old friend's words we have lost," said thefarmer, "and I think I still hear him. And you, my son, once said tohim of your wife, 'She has a charming person, and is beautiful andfresh as a rose.' 'Flowers,' answered James, 'have not beauty only;they are good and pretty at the same time. They make so many richpresents. The bee sucks in pure wax and delicious honey. Without piety,a beautiful face is merely a rose upon paper, a miserable triflewithout life or perfume. It produces neither wax nor honey.' Such werethe reflections that James frankly made before us. We would not listento him--now we know how to appreciate his advice. That which appearedthen to us so great a happiness is now to us the height of misfortune.May God give us grace to bear our misfortunes with patience!" Thus theold couple and their son used to talk together.
Poor Mary had much to suffer also. The back room which she and herfather had occupied was given up to the old couple, and, although therewere two empty rooms in the farmhouse, the young farmer's wife, whodisliked Mary, gave her the most miserable apartment in the house;beside which, she ill-treated her in every possible way, and loaded herwith abuse and fault-finding from morning to night. According to her,Mary did not work enough and did not know how to do anything as itought to be done. In short, she made it very plain to the poor orphanthat she was despised and considered troublesome.
The old man and his wife were keenly conscious of the miserable lifethat Mary led, but they were not in a position to interfere. They hadenough to do with their own griefs.
Mary thought often of going away from Pine Farm, but where to go wasthe question. After some consideration she asked the minister's advice."My dear Mary," said the old minister, "it is impossible for you tothink of remaining longer at Pine Farm. They expect you to do more thana strong man could accomplish. Still, I do not advise you to leaveimmediately. Although your father gave you an excellent education, andtaught you all that it was necessary for a village housekeeper to know,my advice would be to remain where you are for the present; to work asfaithfully as you can, and to wait patiently until the Lord deliversyou from your present hard circumstances. I will endeavour to get you aplace in an honest Christian family. Have confidence in God; prayconstantly, bear with this trial, and God will arrange all." Marythanked the good old minister and promised to follow his advice.
Mary's favourite place of meditation was her father's tomb, where shehad planted a rose tree. "Alas," said she, "if I could remain herealways, I would water you with my tears!" The rose tree was alreadygreen, and the buds began to open their purple cups. "My father wasright," said Mary, "when he compared human life to the rose tree. Itoffers nothing but thorns; but wait a little and the season will comewhen it shall be decked anew in foliage and robed in the most beautifulflowers. For me, this is now the time of thorns; but God help me not tobe cast down! I believe your word, best of fathers. Perhaps I may seein my life the truth of your favourite maxim--'Patience produces roses.'"Thus poor Mary consoled herself in her distress.
"Thou art, O Lord, my only trust, When friends are mingled with the dust, And all my loves are gone. When earth has nothing to bestow, And every flower is dead below, I look to Thee alone."