CHAPTER III.
THE SEPARATION.
Thanksgiving is over! Its dinner, its frolics, its boisterous mirth, areall in the past! It is Sabbath evening. A sadness seems to hang aboutthe party. Lucy had returned to her aunt, with whom she lived. James wasto go home that evening. Henry and Arthur in the morning. They with Johnand their mother, sat thoughtfully around the fire; the younger childrenwere in bed; little was said by any one, but Mrs. Hamilton, wishing tohave a more private interview with Arthur, took him to her room. Thereshe questioned him about his new home more particularly. To heramazement, the moment she spoke of his returning, he burst into a floodof tears. Poor Arthur! he meant to be brave, and to hide his troubles,but now that his heart had been warmed by the light of affection andhome-joy, the idea of going back was terrible to him. He could notdeceive, or keep back any thing. With passionate earnestness, hebesought his mother to let him stay at home.
"I will only eat a potatoe and a piece of bread, if you will let mestay, mother; indeed I won't be much of a burden to you, but oh, dearmother, don't send me back there," cried he, sobbing as if his heartwould break.
This was a sad trial for Mrs. Hamilton, and she paused to think what wasright, and to ask for guidance from on high. It seemed to her thatArthur's dissatisfaction arose from his own weakness of spirit, ratherthan from anything really disagreeable in his situation. They were kindto him; he was not over-worked; could attend a good school; and would itnot be an injury to him, to indulge this excessive love for home, andyield to his entreaties? Would he ever be a man, with courage to facethe storms of life, if she, with a woman's weakness, allowed herfeelings to prevail over her judgment? It must not be. She must be firmfor his sake; cruel as it seemed, it was real kindness, and she trustedhe would soon be contented. If not, she could then change herdetermination if she wished. So she told him once more, that duty andnot present enjoyment was to be consulted; that she still thought it wasbest for him to stay at Mr. Martin's, and she still believed he wouldfind contentment and peace there, in doing his duty. She did not upbraidhim, but told him very tenderly, she wished him to acquire more strengthof purpose, and to gain the habit of controlling his feelings. If he didnot, he could never be happy or useful, and it would be sad indeed togrow up a weak, timid and useless being, who had not strength ofcharacter enough to pursue what was right, if difficulties lay in thepath. "Whenever you are lonely and sad," said she, "think of me, and howmuch pleasure you are giving me by staying and doing your duty. Think ofyour Father in heaven, who watches over you, and will be well-pleasedwhen you try to subdue your faults. Never forget to ask Him for strengthto do right, and He will give it, if you ask in sincerity. Rememberalways that He has placed us in the world to become his children, andgrow holy; and it is often through trial, we are made better. You willbe a better boy if you conquer your weakness, and become cheerful andcontented, than you could have been, had no sacrifice been required ofyou. My dear child, I do believe God will bless you, and enable you toconquer."
With such words Mrs. Hamilton sought to soothe and strengthen her child,while her own heart was throbbing with painful emotions. She could notsleep that night, for her heart yearned over her darling boy, and shelonged to fold him under the shelter of a loving home. She felt that sheneeded in her own heart more of that perfect submission to God's willwhich she enjoined on others, and it was only by earnest and humbleprayer that she could calm her troubled spirit, and feel trust andconfidence that all was for the best. But she had found prayer to be abalm for the wounded spirit in many an hour of suffering, and she nowrealized the sweetness of that inestimable privilege.
"Oh not a gift or blessing With this can we compare; The power which he hath given, To pour our souls in prayer."