Original Stories from Real Life/Chapter 21
CHAP. XXI.
The Benefit of bodily Pain.—Fortitude the Baſis of Virtue.—The Folly of Irreſolution.
THE children had been playing in the garden for ſome time, whilſt Mrs. Maſon was reading alone. But ſhe was ſuddenly alarmed by the cries of Caroline, who ran into the room in great diſtreſs. Mary quickly followed, and explaining the matter ſaid, that her ſiſter had accidentally diſturbed ſome waſps, who were terrified, and of courſe ſtung her. Remedies were applied to aſſuage the pain; yet all the time ſhe uttered the loudeſt and moſt ſilly complaints, regardleſſ of the uneaſineſs ſhe gave thoſe who were exerting themſelves to relieve her.
In a ſhort time the ſmart abated, and then her friend thus addreſſed her, with more than usual gravity. I am ſorry to ſee a girl of your age weep on account of bodily pain; it is a proof of a weak mind, a proof
that you cannot employ yourſelf about things of conſequence. How often muſt I tell you, that the Moſt High is educating us for eternity?
"The term virtue comes from a word ſignifying ſtrength. Fortitude of mind is, therefore, the baſis of every virtue, and virtue belongs to a being, that is weak in its nature, and ſtrong only in will and reſolution."
Children early feel bodily pain, to habituate them to bear the conflicts of the ſoul, when they become reaſonable creatures. This, I ſay, is the firſt trial, and I like to ſee that proper pride which ſtrives to conceal its ſufferings. Thoſe who, when young, weep if the leaſt trifle annoys them, will never, I fear, have ſufficient ſtrength of mind to encounter all the miſeries that can afflict the body, rather than act meanly to avoid them. Indeed, this ſeems to be the eſſential difference between a great and a little mind: the former knows how to endure—whilſt the latter ſuffers an immortal ſoul to be depreſſed, loſt in its abode; ſuffers the inconveniences which attack the one to overwhelm the other. The ſoul would always ſupport the body, if its ſuperiority was felt, and invigorated by exerciſe. The Almighty, who never afflicts but to produce ſome good end, firſt ſends diſeaſes to children to teach them patience and fortitude; and when by degrees they have learned to bear them, they have acquired ſome virtue.
In the ſame manner, cold or hunger, when accidentally encountered, are not evils; they make us feel what wretches feel, and teach us to be tender-hearted. Many of your fellow-creatures daily bear what you cannot for a moment endure without complaint. Besides, another advantage ariſes from it; after you have felt hunger, you will not be very anxious to chooſe the particular kind of food that is to ſatisfy it. You will then be freed from a frivolous care.
When it is neceſſary to take a nauſeous draught, ſwallow it at once, and do not make others ſick whilſt you are heſitating, though you know that you ought to take it. If a tooth is to be drawn, or any other diſagreeable operation to be performed, determine reſolutely that it ſhall be done immediately; and debate not, when you clearly ſee the ſtep that you ought to take. If I ſee a child act in this way, I am ready to embrace it, my ſoul yearns for it—I perceive the dawning of a character that will be uſeful to ſociety, as it prepares its ſoul for a nobler field of action.
Believe me, it is the patient endurance of pain, that will enable you to reſiſt your paſſions; after you have borne bodily pain, you will have firmneſs enough to ſuſtain the ſtill more excruciating agonies of the mind. You will not, to baniſh momentary cares, plunge into diſſipation, nor, to eſcape a preſent inconvenience, forget that you ſhould hold faſt virtue as the only ſubſtantial good.
I ſhould not value the affection of a perſon who would not bear pain and hunger to ſerve me; nor is that benevolence warm, which ſhrinks from encountering difficulties, when it is neceſſary, in order to be uſeful to any fellow-creature.
There is a juſt pride, a noble ambition in ſome minds, that I greatly admire. I have ſeen a little of it in Mary! for whilſt ſhe pities others, ſhe imagines that ſhe could bear their inconveniences herſelf; and ſhe ſeems to feel more uneaſineſs, when ſhe obſerves the ſufferings of others, than I could ever trace on her countenance under the immediate preſſure of pain.
Remember you are to bear patiently the infirmities of the weakeſt of your fellow-creatures; but to yourſelves you are not to be equally indulgent.