GODEY'S LADY'S BOOK
Philadelphia, April 1850

THE ORPHAN FAMILY

BYE SARAHA HEPBURN HAYES.

Thou in the Shadow of the Rock shalt dwell,
The Rock of Strength—Farewell.—Hemans.

MRS. BRUCE was a widow who had recently been bereaved of her husband, and the mother of six children the eldest not above fourteen years of age. Her place of residence was a. small two story- house in the outskirts of a little country village. This, with the adjoining garden, was her only property. All the surplus earnings of her husband's life of toil had been, with scrupulous exactness, invested here; and d she could never forget the smile, half serious, half playful, which animated his face when, on entering his dwelling one evening, a few weeks before his death, he told her—

" I have this evening made the last payment on the house. It is now ours; and it is said, if a widow is left with a house over her head, she can get along; so, should I die to-morrow, I suppose I need feel no apprehension with regard to your future circumstances "

This was uttered jestingly and who that looked on the stalwart frame and iron sinews of that strong man, could have supposed that, smitten by disease, in a few weeks the places which knew him then should know him no more; and that, although unconscious of it, the fearful shadow was already hanging over him. He was a poor man, and had I earned by the sweat eat of his brow the bread which fed his destitute mother ( who lived with him ), his wife, and a family of six children. Nor did he repine at his lot or imagine it a hard one; he had health and strength was active and industrious, and it was sweet to labor for those he loved. And when, in the evening, he returned from his work, and his children ran to meet him—a loving contest among them as to who should hold his hard hand—and be caught hi. wife's placid smile as she stood at the door, with her arms folded across her breast, awaiting his coming he sometimes felt that his cup of happiness was filled even to overflowing and was more grateful to the God who conferred upon him these blessings than he to whose luxuries and enjoyments every quarter of the globe has been taxed to contribute. Although a poor man, as we have said, his obituary notice would have told you he was a kind husband and a tender father; nor was it any wonder his widow mourned as one who could not be comforted In the first frantic ebullitions of grief; she seemed to question the justice of the Almighty himself: " What have I done," she would exclaimed in tones of piercing anguish, " that I should be thus sorely visited ?" Long had her aged pastor knelt and prayed, oft had he wept, and frequent had been his teachings ere he could bring the rebellious lips to utter, "Not my will, but thine, O Lord, be done." At the time of which we write, she sat at the window, looking into the gray and pensive light of a waning autumn day, watching the sere brown leaves as they fell rustling to the earth, and listening to the moaning wind Nature seemed to participate so much in the melancholy of her feelings, that her heart felt soothed and comforted, while her tears fell thick as rain-drops. The fire burned cheerily upon the clean—swept hearth; but she noted it not. The mother-in-law, who had stifled her own grief in order that she might administer comfort to one who appeared to stand so sorely in need of it, had placed the little ones in their cots, and resumed her knitting; but still the disconsolate one took no notice.

" Grandmother," at length said Martha, the eldest child, a mild, pensive-looking girl of fourteen, " I met the pastor's lady to-day, and she says since her last child is married she feels so lonely, that if mother and you can spare me, she will take me to her house and give me some more schooling, besides putting me in a way to earn a respectable livelihood. And Mr. Warner, who chanced just then to be passing, stopped to say that he needed a boy to run errands and do some little jobs about the farm, and, if Freddy could be spared, he would like to have him. They will both call to-morrow to see about it."

The grandmother clasped her withered hands together with joy and thankfulness while Martha thus spoke, and replied—

" It has been my earnest prayer, ever since the death of your dear father, that God would have us in his holy keeping and, lo! my children, I am already answered There will be two less to provide for, which, in our straightened circumstances is a great matter; and your earnings will go towards assisting those more helpless than yourselves."

Freddy, who was now twelve years old, was sitting on the wide hearth, engaged in mending a fishing—net by the light of the fire. Boy like, he had been whistling over his work until his sister spoke, when he was instantly attentive; and, as he now raised the heavy dark lashes when shaded his bright hazel eyes, they were misty with tears.

" Oh, grandmother," said he, " I must leave school; but I should not mind that, if I were only old enough to support you all by my labor."

" You will be old enough to do a great deal towards it in a few years, my dear boy. In the mean time, I bless God for the warm, affectionate heart which beats in your young bosom, and that you are likely to find a place with a man like Mr. Warner, who will in all respects set you a good example."

This short conversation, upon a topic so deeply interesting, had been sufficient to arouse the attention of the mother of the children, who gave evidence of its having done so by wringing her hands, while she exclaimed, with a voice of passionate lamentation—

" Oh, mother, how can you speak with so much composure of parting with the children ? Well may I say, if I am deprived of my children, I am indeed bereaved."

" It is a trial, I acknowledge, my daughter," replied the old lady; " but how thankful should you be that they have a prospect of being placed where they will still be, in a manner, under your own eye. How light are your afflictions, compared with those of my poor friend Mrs. Neville. And I would you possessed her unwavering confidence in the just and righteous providence of God."

Old Mrs. Bruce was one of that much—abused class—a husband's mother. But wisely had her son thought, and taught his family to feel, according to the beautiful Irish saying, "A mother's breath's a blessing in a house." And here let me pause one moment to observe that bitter, indeed, is oftentimes the lot of her who is entirely dependent upon the bounty of a son for support; is forced to make her home with a woman upon whose affection she has not the claim of blood. In the family circle, how many are the slights she is obliged to pass unnoticed; how many a galling taunt and covert sarcasm is she forced to swallow with submission ! How slender is her wardrobe; and how sorely does she strive to repair it rather than ask for necessaries so grudgingly bestowed ! How are her virtues underrated and her faults magnified; and when, notwithstanding all her efforts to render herself useful, she discovers that her child, for whose welfare she would yield up her life, considers her in the way, and looks upon her with coldness and distrust, with what a crushed and longing spirit does she yearn for the quiet of that narrow house where the weary are for ever at rest. This, as we have before said, was not the ease in Mr. Bruce's family; he loved and respected his mother, and, whatever might have been the feelings of his wife at the time of her marriage, she was soon influenced by his example to love and respect her also. Old Mrs. Brute was one of those truly noble characters so frequently met with among the middle class of American women. Possessed of fervent piety, combined with the most indomitable energy and great strength of intellect, her influence in the family of her son was unbounded; her words were considered as oracles, and a constant emulation was excited among the junior members to render themselves worthy of her approbation; and she was obeyed and reverenced more through love than fear. Begging the pardon of the reader for this digression, we will now continue the conversation where we left off.

" I have often heard you speak of the trials of your friend Mrs. Neville, grandmother," said Martha; " and, after I have lighted the lamp and got my work, I wish you would fulfill a promise you made me a long time since, and tell us something concerning her. Perhaps mother would feel some interest in it ?" and Martha cast a hopeful yet tearful glance towards her parent, who only turned with a more resolute expression of wretchedness towards the window. .

" I will do as you wish, my dear," said the grandmother, " as this time is probably as fitting as any other to fulfill my promise. Come, Freddy, you may bring your net to the light; you also can attend to what I am going to say;" and, without further preface, the old lady commenced.

" It is now many years ago, my children, when I was quite a young woman, and your father, Freddy, was less than you are at present, that we lived in a village more than a hundred miles from here. It was a very pretty village, situated on the bank of a broad, beautiful stream, which added much to the fertility and loveliness of the whole country through which it passed. We had not always dwelt in so pretty a place; but your grandfather, thinking it would be better for his business, concluded to take up his abode there. About the time we removed, another family took a steerage passage in a vessel bound from Ireland to this country. There were seven of them altogether—the father, mother, and five children. Their home had hitherto been a cabin, with a mud floor. A Bible, an iron pot, and a few wooden stools constituted their furniture; while their fare consisted of the scanty supply of milk afforded by one ill-fed cow, with a few potatoes. Willing to labor, yet finding wages humbled so low that they were often obliged to go both weary and hungry to bed, they concluded, after many struggles, to leave kindred and friends and come to America. How often, when speaking of this unhappy country, is the sentence ' Why don't they emigrate?' uttered with the greatest indifference. But to a warm Irish heart, this is often a severe trial. They are taxed, we might almost say, for the very air they breathe; yet how fondly they still cling to the soil of that island home, where nature must smile in spite of oppression; where the dust of their kindred repose; where are more loving hearts and words of warmer greeting than are to be met with elsewhere. No wonder the Irishman loves his country, crushed, trampled upon as she is. Her soil is among the most fertile, her sons among the noblest, and the language of even her rudest children the most poetical of any on earth. Oh, Ireland, fair Ireland, would we might yet live to see thee take thy proper place among the nations to see the period approach when thy children will not be forced to seek in other countries the bare sustenance denied them at home. The Nevilles, after many struggles to obtain means sufficient to defray the expenses of a passage, and after borrowing from several neighbors small sums, which they promised to repay with interest, found themselves in the steerage of a vessel on their way to this land of promise. I will pass over the first few weeks of their arrival—strangers on a strange soil. Suffice it to say, that some one directed them to our village as a place where they could likely find steady employment. And here, one evening in early spring, cold, hungry, and penniless, they arrived. My husband, contrary to his usual custom, chanced to be abroad on that evening; and, as he was a devout believer in that blessed word which teaches that we may sometimes entertain angels unawares, on hearing the landlord refuse to keep them on account of their inability to pay, he brought them all home with him. I confess, I was taken a good deal by surprise at this unusual act; but, as it was his pleasure, I bade them welcome; and the heartfelt blessing which the poor strangers asked over the meal we prepared for them went far towards prepossessing me in their favor. The man, his wife, and the two little girls we accommodated in the house, while the three boys found lodgings among the fragrant hay in the well-stored mow. These people, my children, were not particularly attractive as far as appearance was concerned; they all appeared healthy and good-humored, and the little ones seemed uncommonly well-mannered for children in their rank of life; but still I was in some way unaccountably interested in them; and I have since thought God permitted this feeling in order that I might bestir myself in behalf of those who were undoubtedly his followers. At any rate, we were willing to accommodate them a few days until something could be done for them; and, at the expiration of that time, a quiet-looking little cottage, with a willow tree before the door, standing just across the brook, was procured for them. I parted with several articles of furniture I could spare, in order to assist them in fitting out their new home; and my efforts among my neighbors procured them many other gifts of the same description. And now how happy was Mrs. Neville. Her husband had steady employment given him on a farm near by; her two eldest boys, of the ages of twelve and thirteen, both obtained good places; while the youngest boy, with the little girls, aged ten, eight, and six, were kept at home, where they were generally as busy as bees, for their mother held idleness to be the parent of all evil. I have often, on going in, been struck with the picture of neatness and humbled contentment their small kitchen presented. The furniture was of the coarsest and most common description, yet scrupulously neat and clean. Here the family were generally found, pursuing their evening avocations, seated before the quiet blaze of their own fireside; and truly, where its comforts are properly appreciated, there is nothing gives the heart a finer or more touching idea of enjoyment than this same calm, domestic light. Evening, too, is the period of time which may truly be called the poor man's season of enjoyment; the implements of daily labor are laid aside, and it is then he may rest his wearied limbs and enjoy the prattle and playful wiles of his children, whose caresses sometimes lead him to forget the bitterness of his lot. The Nevilles were poor, very poor; the money they had borrowed from friends in Ireland, they had obligated themselves to return, and they were straining every nerve to accomplish this. It was ten months before they were able, by their united labor, with practicing the most rigid self-denial, to realize this amount. At length, however, the sum was raised; and a benevolent gentleman inclosed and forwarded it in such a manner as it would be sure to reach its destination. They had, however, barely felt their minds relieved in this particular, when Mr. Neville was laid upon a bed of sickness. He had, perhaps, overworked himself and taken cold. His disease was inflammatory rheumatism. He lingered for a month, oftentimes suffering greatly; and then, after commending his wife and little ones to the care of that God who is the protector of the widow and the fatherless, strong in the hope of a blissful immortality, he died. As I told you before, my children, the Nevilles were pious people; and I could not but notice, in their mode of expression, a degree of intellectual refinement peculiar to those who make the Holy Scriptures an habitual study. On the evening of the day Mr. N. died, I called at the house. I had been much-with the widow during her affliction and she seemed to regard me in the light of an attach Ed friend—as, indeed, I was. I found her sitting beside the corpse; she was, to all appearance, composed, yet I observed that tears were slowly and silently trickling down her cheeks.

"' This is a heavy stroke, my poor friend,' said I.

"' Oh, Mrs. Bruce,' replied she, now sobbing aloud, ' it is the heaviest stroke I could have been called to meet; but, in the midst of the distress which poor human nature must feel under such a bereavement, I strive to remember that the blow is dealt by a Father's hand, who does not willingly afflict his children.'

"' We are not forbidden to weep,' I answered, 'provided we do not do so in a rebellious spirit. The grave of a friend was hallowed by the tears of our blessed Redeemer himself; and he who took upon him the likeness of man, knoweth our frame, and remembereth that we are dust.'

"'True,' she replied; "my humble petition is that I may be resigned to his holy will. Yet when I think of the struggling poor Robert and I have had; of the sorrow, and hunger, and cold we have endured together, and now, just when there was a prospect of getting along comfortably, that he should be taken, my heart is like to break. The deep sea,' She continued ' is between me and every other earthly friend; yet let me not forget'—she added, after a moment's pause, looking up with a glance of holy devotion—' let me not forget that I have one in Heaven more powerful than all.'

" You will observe, my children," said Mrs. Bruce, as she came to this portion of their discourse, " the unwavering faith which this poor woman possessed. She was a stranger in a strange land; there was no one upon whom she had any claim; yet I never heard her utter one repining word, or wonder how she was to get along without the assistance of her husband, there was so little selfishness in her grief. And although tears Must flow at these sad sunderings of beloved ties, yet, when she did indulge in this outward exhibition of distress, she would almost immediately dry them, and give utterance to something which would discover how entire and unchanging was her trust in God. I was a great deal with her, and, I must say, after the last sad duties were performed, I was astonished to see how energetically she set to work in order to support herself and her children. Her husband had often told me that all the fortune his wife had brought him was her religion, her energy, and her steady habits of industry, and that these had proved the blessing of his life. Now, too, she found ample exercise for these estimable qualities, and it was surprising how she could turn her hand to anything that offered; and, indeed, with the assistance the children were able to afford her, they managed to live very comfortably. Things went on in this way for several months, when one day one of the little girls came over to tell me her mother was very sick and wished to see me. A press of work had kept me in the house for a week, and I had not seen her in this time but as soon as possible I went over. She was lying on a low, clean bed in one corner of the kitchen; and I was at once struck with her appearance, for I plainly perceived, from her emaciated countenance that her day of life was fast drawing to a close. I cannot describe this peculiar appearance to you; but a person accustomed to sickness can, it seems to me, immediately detect it. I had no sooner set my eves on Mrs. Neville, than I was startled by this expression.

" ' You are very ill. Why did you not send for me before ?' I asked, in astonishment.

" 'I knew you were busy, and my other neighbors have been kind,' she replied. ' But I sent for you this evening, because I somehow feel that I shall not recover, and I wished to see you before I die.'

"' Die ! Dear, dear mother, do not talk of dying,' cried the youngest little girl, throwing herself upon the bed beside her mother and bursting into tears. The boys were living out, but came home to stay at night—were standing on the hearth with their sisters. I noticed they all began to weep when their mother said this. Mrs. Neville, how ever, did not appear to notice them, further than to stroke with her hand the hair of the little one beside her, but continued—

" ' I have long felt very weak and feeble, and have had a sad pain in my breast; but I did not complain, as I thought it would be of no use. The doctor says the cold I caught a week or two since has produced inflammation, which, he fears, may terminate seriously; and, if it were not for my children, Mrs. Bruce, I could welcome death as a messenger sent but to conduct me to my heavenly home.'

" ' You must not speak of dying, my friend,' said I, with difficulty restraining my tears as I looked at the weeping little ones, who, I doubted not, were soon to be orphans indeed; ' you must not speak of dying; we will get the best medical aid for you.'

" She shook her head, as much as to say it would be of no use; but did not make any further objection to the arrangements made for her. Dear woman, from this time to the end of her life (she lived but a week), every moment I could spare from my own necessary duties was devoted to her. How much she seemed to love me, and with what affection her eye used to follow me as I busied myself for her comfort.

" ' God will surely reward you for your kindness,' she would sometimes say; 'for if, in the last day, he remembers the food, the raiment, the cup of cold water given to the least of his disciples, he will not forget your charity to one who, I trust, may style herself among the humblest of his followers.'

" And, my children," said Mrs. Bruce, here wiping her tears, " may I not be said to have had, even in this world, a rich return for what I did for her, in thus having a home provided for me in my old age with your dear father; and now, when he is gone, still living in his family, and being happy in the dutiful behavior, the love, and respect of his children. But to return to Mrs. Neville. She became gradually weaker and weaker; but, as her bodily strength wasted away, her faith grew brighter and stronger.

" ' If it should please Providence to take you,' said I to her one day, ' what disposition do you wish made of your children?'

" ' I have nothing to say with respect to them,' she answered; ' I intend leaving them entirely in the care of God. He has said, in his Holy Word, 'Leave your fatherless children to me ;' and I feel that I can fearlessly repose this trust in him. Robert, when dying, committed us to his holy keeping; and how well were we provided for. Friends were raised up for us where we least expected them; and why should I distrust him now ? Surely, he who provides for the young ravens when they cry, will not suffer my helpless orphans to want.'

" In this way, her faith continued steadfast unto the end. Her last act in this world was to call these weeping little ones to her bedside; and with her wan hand pressed upon each young head, she committed them, individually, in fervent prayer, to the watchful care of an ever-present God. She had not attempted to enlist our sympathies for them; and she died triumphantly leaving them destitute and friendless, with the exception of the few who were interested in them on account of their parents. You have lately, my children, beheld the form of your father, cold and insensible to your tears and caresses, and have watched, with sobs and lamentations, his dear form consigned to the silence of the tomb; therefore I will not pain you by describing the funeral of Mrs. Neville, or the heart-breaking grief of her children on committing the remains of their last friend to the dust. Nor will I portray their distress when they were compelled to separate and make their home among strangers; but it affords me pleasure to be able to tell you, my dears, that there were many willing and eager hands, stretched even across the grave of their mother, to offer them a home. For our part, we took two, the youngest boy and girl. and brought them up as our own. Robert, the eldest, obtained a situation with a merchant who, hearing the particulars of their history, became interested in them. He rose from one step to another, and finally became a partner in his business. He is now a wealthy and respected man. The other boy was also adopted and brought up in much better circumstances than they had any reason to expect. He, with his younger brother, has also lived to become respectable and prosperous. As for the two girls, the elder married well; while the one that grew in health and beauty by our fireside, the mother's darling, her lot has been east m the valley of the great West. There, amid the far-stretching forests, on a farm which in Europe might be called a principality, a wife and mother, she is spending her days in the enjoyment of all that heart can desire. I have now done with the history of this family; yet I would have you observe how fearlessly Christian parents may repose upon the strength of the promises of Him who holds the hearts of all men in his hand. The skeptic may laugh and the worldling may sneer, but an appeal may confidently be made to those who have noted the dealings of Providence as to whether any who have trusted in him have been confounded. These children (for we have drawn no fancy sketch) were homeless, destitute, and without surviving kindred, their only inheritance the guidance and protection entreated for them in the fervent prayers of pious parents, yet how infinitely better was this than houses or land. God did more for them than earthly parents could have done, and exemplified in them how confidently a Christian's orphan may repose upon his assurance, ' When thy father and mother forsake thee, I will take thee up."'

During the telling of this little narrative, the attention of the widowed Mrs. Bruce had gradually been aroused. In mentally contrasting her situation with the subject of it, she saw how infinite were the mercies she yet enjoyed, and how ungrateful and wicked her heart had been in thus openly rebelling against the righteous decrees of her Creator She groaned in anguish, but it was at the recollection of her own sinfulness. From this time forth her grief assumed a more chastened aspect. She wept, for

" Tears befit earth's partings;"

and the bereaved are permitted these tokens of sorrow; but there was now no rebellious murmurings mingled with her tears. She reposed more trustfully upon the Rock of Ages, and learned, with prayerful confidence, to look forward to a happy reunion with the beloved of earth in that world where separation is unknown. As for her children, they proved living attestations of the truth of the promise, " I have been young, and now am old; yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread."

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