Then a great illumination came to me. I saw events as I had never seen them before. I had always considered myself as one of the most loving and careful of wives and mothers. If any one had told me that I was not, I should have been indignant. But the dead open the eyes of the living. I saw myself that hour, as a character that amazed me and almost broke my heart. Every unreasonable mood, every ungracious and unkind look, every cross word came back to my memory to torture me!
Oh, how I had wounded and disappointed those whom I loved best! What a selfish woman I had been!
I was so shocked at the accusations my conscience made against me, that I was silent even from prayer. I had been unkind to the souls of those nearest and dearest to me, and I had no way of redressing the wrong. Why then think about it? Because we cannot say to the heart, "Thou shalt not remember." And if we could forget, it would be a great moral forfeiture, a treason against our own souls. So I let conscience accuse me until I had remembered, and speechlessly acknowledged all my failures. Then I laid my sorrowful heart, with all its love and contrition at His feet. All my slighted duties, cold retirements, and small returns for love unselfish even unto death, I cast into the abyss of His mercy. There were some moments of terrible lucidity, but when my grief subsided, it was followed by a wonderful peace. The feeling of the Infinite around me grew solemnly sweet and distinct, and my soul turned to it. "My God! My God!" I whispered; and though there were only four words given me, I had a joy past utterance.
Trouble was lighter than a grasshopper and, oh, what words can describe that felicity of repose which the ebbing of the spiritual tide left behind it!
I am writing of nothing supernatural. My experience is not uncommon, and it might be universal. I wish to God it was! I can only speak for myself, but of myself I have a right to speak.
"What I know, I know; And where I find place for my foot, I plant it firmly there."
So I bring my religious experiences to the common stock of religious facts, because I believe it would be a good thing for the world if more people spoke to it of their knowledge of unseen realities. What I have heard in the silence is not for me alone. I must tell my message in the open place for all I reach, to hear and consider.
I know everything that science and creeds and set forms can say against such experiences. Science, which affects to dote on the material, is everywhere brought up short by impalpable but adamantine gates of which God alone holds the key. It is as inscrutable and mysterious as any spiritual occurrence or event. What scientist can yet disclose, how the green bud becomes the rose?
As to outward rites and ceremonies at set times, they are useful to many, but we
"... may not hope from outward forms to win, The glory of the Life whose fountains are within."
"... Councils, doctors, priests, Are but the signs that point us to the spring Whence flow thy living waters. From thyself, direct, The secret comes to all worthy to find it."
Very light was my soul that happy morning, and I might well be happy.
Such moments as I had spent alone with God are both sacrificial and sacramental. They are strong with absolution, and the soul comes out of them justified, and full of hope.
The following day I called Mary and Lilly to me, and told them that our stock of money was getting low, and that as I was now quite well I must find something to do which would make us a living.
"Have you thought of this necessity, my dears?" I asked. Both answered they had thought a great deal about it. Then I said,
"Mary, what in your opinion is the best thing to try?"
[Illustration: MISS LILLY BARR]
"A first class school for girls," was her ready reply. "You like to teach big girls, Mamma, and I can take charge of the little ones."
I saw dissent on Lilly's face, and I asked, "Is that your opinion also, Lilly?"
"No, indeed!" she answered promptly. "I have often asked Mary, what good there would be in opening a school, when there were no scholars.
The school I went to before the fever has not re-opened, nor has the school Calvin went to. There are no scholars for either of them, because there is no money to pay the teachers. And there is no money either to buy school dresses, and shoes and books and such things. I was talking to Lulu Jordan a few days since, and she told me, she could not go to school because she had only one decent suit, and she had to save that for church."
"Well, then, Lilly, have you any idea as to what we can do?"
"Yes, Mamma. I would rent a proper room, very near the great shops, and fit it up to sell books, papers, fine stationery for girls' love letters, pretty ribbons, tarlatans of all colors for dancing dresses, cheap laces--oh, everything that girls and women want, and especially embroidery silks and threads and patterns. I would buy the best tea you can get, and give ladies a cup of tea, and an Albert biscuit, and charge them fifteen cents for it. Don't laugh, Mamma; yes, _do_ laugh, Mamma. It is so good to hear you laugh again. You know I could attend to the tea department. I'd like to do it."
I can see her bright eager face as I write these words, and also Mary's calm dissenting smile, which was both critical and disapproving.
"What do you say, Mary, to this plan?" I asked.
"A plan that you should keep a shop, Mamma? It is absurd. Grandmother would never speak to us again."
"I don't think she fatigues herself with speaking to us now," said Lilly; "and when she does send us a letter, it generally spoils two or three whole days."
"No shop of any kind would make our living," continued Mary. "Mamma could not make any shop pay. Mamma does not have the qualities that make a shopkeeper."
I listened with interest to this conversation. Evidently my daughters had not a high opinion of my commercial ability, and I may as well admit here, that their estimate was a just one. I had no business tact. I could calculate neither profit nor loss. I had no power to judge of probabilities. Certainly I had intuitions, often singularly wise ones, but I had no more experience than the two girls who were discussing me. I was, however, a little piqued at Mary's assertion that, "Mamma could not make any shop pay," and I asked her why she made such a statement.
"Because, dear Mamma," she answered, "you would be cheated both in your buying and your selling. I have heard Papa say often, that you paid too much for all you bought, and you know when we were in Cook's house and had such quantities of eggs and chickens, that you sold some, and every one paid you less than market price, or mostly paid you nothing at all."
This question with its asides and amendments kept us talking all day; for a norther had sprung up, and it was too cold for any of us to venture outside. Just as the dim came on, and Lilly rose to light the candles, and I to throw some cedar logs on the fire, there was a knock at the door, and Mayor Williams came in. Mary helped him off with his coat, and he sat down before the blazing fire, and took Alice upon his knee.
"Mrs. Barr," he said, "I want to have a little talk with you and the girls, so if you will ask me to a cup of tea, we can discuss what I have come to say over it."
"In ten minutes," I said, "supper will be ready;" and I went to the dining-room to hurry forward its service. I knew whatever business he wished to discuss must in his opinion be important, or he would not have come to the house in a norther. As soon therefore as we were seated at the table, I said, "We have been talking all day, Mr.
Williams, of work and business, and of how we are to make money."
"And I," he answered, "have been talking to General Waul about your position, and I think he has shown me a way that you can follow."
"General Waul!" I ejaculated. "I do not know him at all. Who is General Waul?"
"He would feel much hurt at your asking such a question. He was the Commander of Waul's Legion, and a man of mark during the war."
"Is he a soldier now?"
"No. He is now the most prominent lawyer in Galveston. His estate is on the main land, but he wishes to get board and lodging for himself and Mrs. Waul in a family where there are no lodgers. I told him about your position, and it came to this: He says he will pay you one hundred dollars a month for their board and lodging. He says also, that he can bring with him four or five other lawyers, and I think I can assure you of two of my friends, and there is Scotch Brown, Barton, East, Sutherland, Miller, Thomas, and others whom Mr. Barr nursed through the fever, and who will be glad to return in this way the kindness he showed them."
"O Mr. Williams!" I answered. "I am most grateful to you. I may not at first manage as well as I should like, but I will do my best."
"And we will help you, all we can, Mamma," said Mary and Lilly. So without having once thought of such a thing, I felt myself committed to running a boarding-house for the Lawyer's Mess, and such other gentlemen as seemed advisable. My first question regarded the house.
"Shall I have to move?" I asked. "Or will this dwelling be suitable?"
"You will have to move at once," was the answer. "This place is too far from the business part of the town; it never had a pleasant name; and its fatal record during the fever would terrify guests. I have just the house proper for your purpose in my mind. It was empty during the fever, and there is no one in it now, but there will be tenants, if you do not take it, tomorrow."
"Where is it?"
"In the pleasantest part of Tremont Street, next door to your friend Dr. Estabrook. If you do not mind the cold, meet me at the doctor's tomorrow at twelve o'clock, and I will go with you to the owner, and see that no advantage is taken of you."
I could not help a smile. My business incompetency must indeed be flagrantly palpable, to make my business friend think it necessary to leave his official duties to protect me. Then I told him what my daughters' opinion of it was, and so gave myself up to their management and advice. And there was a happy, hopeful feeling in every heart at our simple table. The way, and the work shown me, was not the way and the work I would have chosen; but we talked ourselves into a kind of enthusiasm concerning it. I made little of the cold or the labor of the removal, and was only anxious for the morning, that I might begin to get away from the house in which I had suffered such loss and sorrow.
I turned my thoughts persistently to the new house, to the new work, and the new life; and my heart thrilled, as in years gone by, to the warm, bright hope that had been given it. It was so naturally easy for me to hope when things came to me unexpectedly, with all the sanguine air of godsends. To this day, I have the same disposition, and find it hard to consider my good hope baseless. _A seed must have been on the spot where a flower blooms._
In a week we were settled in the house on Tremont Street, and soon after General and Mrs. Waul took possession of its best room. I had had some fears about Mrs. Waul, who I was told had been a great beauty and a social leader in Washington and New Orleans. I found her in many respects a delightful woman, thoroughly good-natured, freely frank, in manner witty, clever in conversation, and still beautiful. She was also easily pleased, and whatever she asked was generally as advantageous to myself as to her. Thus a few days after she came to live with us, she said to me, as we were sitting together in the parlor,
"This is a very pleasant room." I assented, and she continued, "and it would be much more pleasant if differently arranged."
"How would you arrange it?" I asked.
She stood up and looked carefully around. "Why, my dear," she answered in her pretty, patronizing manner, "in arranging a room, you must follow the same rule as in dressing a woman. A woman makes all she can of her strong points, brings them into notice, puts them forward, and so on. Don't you think so?"