I am coming to the holiday of my life; a time that seems, as I
look back to it, like a chequered mosaic of pleasure pieces
laid in bright colours, all in harmony, and making out a
pattern of beauty. It is odd I should speak so; for I have
known other holidays, when fewer clouds were in my sky and
fewer life-shadows stretching along the landscape.
Nevertheless, this is how it looks to me in the retrospect;
and to write of it, is like setting the pins of that mosaic
work over again. Not one of them is lost in my memory.
Truly I have known other holidays; yet never one that took me
out of so much harassment and perplexity. And I could not get
rid of all my burdens, even in Palestine; but somehow I got
rid of all my anxious trouble about them. I had left behind so
much, that I accepted even thankfully all that remained. I was
free from mamma's schemes for me, and cleared from the pursuit
of those who seconded her schemes; they could not follow me in
the Holy Land. No more angry discussions of affairs at home,
and words of enmity and fierce displeasure toward the part of
the nation that held my heart. No more canvassing of war news;
not much hearing of them, even; a clean escape from the
demands of society and leisure for a time to look into my
heart and see what condition it was in. And to my great
astonishment I had found the love of admiration and the
ambition of womanly vanity beginning to stir again; in me, who
knew better things, and who really did not value these; in me,
who had so much to make me sober and keep down thoughts of
folly. I found that I had a certain satisfaction when entering
a room, to know that the sight of me gave pleasure; yes, more;
I liked to feel that the sight of no one else gave so much
pleasure. I could hardly understand, when I came to look at
it, how so small a satisfaction could have taken possession of
my mind; I was very much ashamed; but the fact remained. When
we set sail for Palestine I got clear, at least for the time,
from all this. I hoped for ever. - And it was exceedingly
sweet to find myself alone with papa.
How mamma ever consented to the plan, I do not know. Because
papa had settled it and given his word, perhaps; for in those
cases I know she never interfered; necessity made her yield.
She would not go with us; she went to Paris, where Aunt Gary
was come for the winter. Ransom went home to join the army;
and papa and I took our holiday. I ought not to have been so
happy, with so many causes of anxiety on my mind; Ransom in
the war on one side, and Christian already engaged on the
opposite side; both in danger, not to speak of other friends
whom I knew; and my own and Mr. Thorold's future so very dark
to look forward to. But I was happy. I believe, the very
enormous pressure of things to trouble me, helped me to throw
off the weight. In fact, it was too heavy for me to bear. I
had trusted and given up myself to God; it was not a mock
trust or submission; I laid off my cares, or in the expressive
Bible words, "rolled them" upon him. And then I went light.
Even my self-spoken sentence, the declaration that I ought not
to marry a person who was not a Christian, did not crush me as
I thought it would. Somebody has said very truly, "There is a
healing power in truth." It is correct in more ways than one.
And especially in truth towards God, in whole-hearted devotion
to him, or as the Bible says again, in "wholly following the
Lord," there is strength and healing; "quietness and assurance
for ever." I was no nearer despair now than I had been before.
And I was more ready for my holiday.