“Speak kindly, speak kindly; ye know not the power Of a soft and gentle word, As its tones, in a sad and troubled hour, By the weary heart are heard. Ye know not how often it comes to bless The stranger amid his weariness; How many a blessing is round thee thrown By the magic spell of a soft low tone. Speak kindly, then, kindly; there’s nothing lost By gentle words—to the heart and ear Of the sad and lonely they’re dear, how dear!— And they nothing cost.”
HOWEVER desirous any President of a Mothers’ Society may be of being constantly at her post, it must be obvious to all that occasional absence cannot be avoided. No assumed duties, however important, must for a moment supersede the first claims of home and kindred. Some have thought that the one must necessarily interfere with the other, and, consequently, both ought not to be attempted; but experience proves that the faculties, from daily use, become rather brightened than worn, and can accomplish more than when merely called up on especial occasions. The “much” will be entrusted to those who are faithful in that which is least, and not to those who stand all the day idle. The Master for whom we work does not employ us as the Egyptians did the Israelites, demanding the tale of bricks, and yet saying—“Let them go and gather straw for themselves.”
We acknowledge the hand of God perhaps less in the supply of our mental, than in either our temporal or spiritual, wants, and this often makes us unwilling to attempt work to which, in the prospect, we feel ourselves unequal. Who does not know the fear and trembling with which new undertakings are usually commenced; like Mary going to the sepulchre, we think only of the stone at the entrance, and say, Who shall roll it away?
I once heard a lady say that, to accommodate a friend, she had promised to undertake the management of a Bible class for a few weeks; but as the time for its commencement drew on, she found herself so completely unnerved by her anxious fears and distrust of herself, that she was obliged to send a message to say she could not possibly meet the class. She has since learnt a different kind of preparation; and were she again placed in similar circumstances, she would go, as we all must, like Solomon, to the fountain of wisdom, and say—“I am but a little child: I know not how to go out or come in. Give therefore thy servant an understanding heart.”