human
This trial is more than I can bear. Mr. Worthy kindly took him by the hand, and when he was a little composed, said,
gpt
I will tell you a short story. There was in ancient times a famous man who was a slave. His master, who was very good to him, one day gave him a bitter melon, and made him eat it: he ate it up without one word of complaint. 'How was it possible,' said the master, 'for you to eat so very nauseous and disagreeable a fruit?' The slave replied, 'My good master, I have received so many favors from your bounty, that it is no wonder if I should once in my life eat one bitter melon from your hands.' This generous answer so struck the master, that the history says he gave him his liberty. With such submissive sentiments, my friend, should man receive his portion of sufferings from God, from whom he receives so many blessings. You in particular have received 'much good at the hand of God, shall you not receive evil also?'
human
O! Mr. Worthy! said Bragwell,
gpt
human
We are very apt to talk most of dying when we are least fit for it, said Worthy.
gpt
This is not the language of that submission which makes us prepare for death; but of that despair which makes us out of humor with life. O! Mr. Bragwell! you are indeed disappointed of the grand ends which made life so delightful to you; but till your heart is humbled, till you are brought to a serious conviction of sin, till you are brought to see what is the true end of life, you can have no hope in death. You think you have no business on earth, because those for whose sake you too eagerly heaped up riches are no more. But is there not under the canopy of heaven some afflicted being whom you may yet relieve, some modest merit which you may bring forward, some helpless creature you may save by your advice, some perishing Christian you may sustain by your wealth? When you have no sins of your own to repent of, no mercies of God to be thankful for, no miseries of others to relieve, then, and not till then, I consent you should sink down in despair, and call on death to relieve you.
human
At first they thought she was dead, said the man,
gpt
But, my friend, said Mr. Worthy,
human
Bragwell was not in a state either to consent or refuse, and his friend drew him to the work-house, about the door of which stood a crowd of people.
gpt
She is not dead, said one,
human
gpt
But she wants air, said all of them, while they all, according to custom, pushed so close upon her that it was impossible she could get any. A fine boy of two or three years old stood by her, crying,
human
Mammy is dead, mammy is starved. Mr. Worthy made up to the poor woman, holding his friend by the arm; in order to give her air he untied a large black bonnet which hid her face, when Mr. Bragwell, at that moment casting his eyes on her saw in this poor stranger the face of his own runaway daughter, Mrs. Incle. He groaned, but could not speak; and as he was turning away to conceal his anguish, the little boy fondly caught hold of his hand, lisping out,
gpt
O stay and give mammy some bread. His heart yearned toward the child; he grasped his little hand in his, while he sorrowfully said to Mr. Worthy,
human
It is too much, send away the people. It is my dear naughty child; '_my punishment is greater than I can bear_.' Mr. Worthy desired the people to go and leave the stranger to them; but by this time she was no stranger to any of them. Pale and meager as was her face, and poor and shabby as was her dress, the proud and flaunting Miss Polly Bragwell was easily known by every one present. They went away, but with the mean revenge of little minds, they paid themselves by abuse, for all the airs and insolence they had once endured from her.
gpt
Pride must have a fall, said one,
human
I remember when she was too good to speak to a poor body, said another.
gpt
Where are her flounces and furbelows now? It is come home to her at last; her child looks as if he would be glad of the worst bit she formerly denied us.
human
Lord, forgive my hard heart! Lord, subdue my proud heart; _create a clean heart, O God! and renew a right spirit within me_. These were perhaps the first words of genuine prayer he had ever offered up in his whole life. Worthy overheard it, and in his heart rejoiced; but this was not a time for talking, but doing. He asked Bragwell what was to be done with the unfortunate woman, who now seemed to recover fast, but she did not see them, for they were behind. She embraced her boy, and faintly said,
gpt
My child, what shall we do? _I will arise and go to my father, and say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven and before thee._ This was a joyful sound to Mr. Worthy, who was inclined to hope that her heart might be as much changed for the better as her circumstances were altered for the worse; and he valued the goods of fortune so little, and contrition of soul so much, that he began to think the change on the whole might be a happy one. The boy then sprung from his mother, and ran to Bragwell, saying,
human
Do be good to mammy. Mrs. Incle looking round, now perceived her father; she fell at his feet, saying,
gpt
O forgive your guilty child, and save your innocent one from starving.