Mary rose
early, refreshed by the seasonable rest, and went to visit the poor woman, whom
she found quite recovered: and, on enquiry, heard that she had lately buried
her husband, a common sailor; and that her only surviving child had been washed
over-board the day before. Full of her own danger, she
scarcely thought of her child till that was over; and then she gave way to
boisterous emotions.
Mary endeavoured to calm her at first, by sympathizing with her;
and she tried to point out the only solid source of comfort but in doing this
she encountered many difficulties; she found her grossly ignorant,
yet she did not despair: and as the poor creature could not receive comfort
from the operations of her own mind, she laboured to
beguile the hours, which grief made heavy, by adapting her conversation to her
capacity.
There are
many minds that only receive impressions through the medium of the senses: to
them did Mary address herself; she made her some presents, and promised to
assist her when they should arrive in England. This employment roused her out
of her late stupor, and again set the faculties of her soul in motion; made the
understanding contend with the imagination, and the heart throbbed not so
irregularly during the contention. How short-lived was the calm! when the
English coast was descried, her sorrows returned with redoubled vigor.—She was
to visit and comfort the mother of her lost friend—And
where then should she take up her residence? These thoughts suspended the
exertions of her understanding; abstracted reflections gave way to alarming
apprehensions; and tenderness undermined fortitude.