But I have found something to do. I behave infamously to the dear old man. Well! I mean to throw my whole being into being a good child at home. I won’t be rude and bad to him!
Now record this vow for a week,—don’t be superstitious, Jack; say ‘God helping me’ and go on,—forget yourself. Just do this piece of work,—and wait.
So be it.
What was the ‘chief evil’ to which the suffering must be directed to be sufficient?
‘Selfishness,’ said I.
Truly, Jack. And what is it but intolerable selfishness,—this brooding over a ‘bootless bene’,—this expecting sympathy and all sorts of kindness and excuse from my Mother and the rest, and talking about nerves and fiddle-de-dees,—instead of forgetting myself and seeing to my work and to other people.
Well, God helping me, now for a new leaf—of strength and resolve instead of whining self-pity.”
It was with this inspiration that she wrote to one of her pupils:
“Dec. 31st. 1861.
Dear Lucy,