The Clergyman's Wife and Other Sketches/Responsibility

by Anna Cora Mowatt

RESPONSIBILITY.

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am afraid to undertake it; the responsibility is too great. I never incur a responsibility that can be avoided!" Such was the hesitating reply of one whom the popular voice pronounced kind of heart and blameless of life, when a friend suggested to her a charitable action not easy of accomplishment. The deed was one which necessarily would have entailed some trouble, demanded some exertion, and have been attended with some annoyance if its result proved unfortunate. But if a happy fruition crowned her efforts, her whole existence must have been pervaded with a sense of internal and lasting satisfaction, as the chosen instrument for such a noble work; one record would have been written upon her book of life, which could have conjured up consoling thoughts in her hour of bitterest sorrow; one memory would have been hers, that might have shed celestial light even upon her death-bed. And yet the dread of responsibility could make her shrink and turn aside, and try to forget that she might have lifted the burden from bowed and aching hearts, yet did not touch it with a finger!

"Never incur a responsibility that can be avoided!" What a selfish, heartless declaration! What a shallow resolution! Cold and narrow and of fossil hardness is the life of those who keep their palms clean, not of evil and its consequences, but of responsibility and its risks. Such beings take but the one talent from the hand of their Lord, which is bounteously opened to bestow ten, because, forsooth, the ten would involve greater responsibility. Nay, they hide even that one in the earth, to escape the poor responsibility of putting it out to usury.

Truly, with what measure we mete it shall be measured to us; good measure, shaken together, pressed down and running over, if such we give; but we have no power to bestow without incurring responsibility. The bountiful measure of good gifts, present and future, is for those who, nothing doubting, assume great and holy responsibilities, and discharge them with steadfast confidence. True, the more responsibilities we are content to accept, the larger the number that will flow in upon us, as though they were endowed with a self-increasing principle; but each one faithfully discharged brings its compensating joy, and if the responsibilities sometimes seem endless, the happiness they purchase will also prove inexhaustible.

Blessed are those hands to whom much is confided, and who receive the charge undismayed. Heaven-blessed! for their work is a daily laying up of treasure above. The prudent man, the timid skeptic, the thoughtless worldling, will accuse them of rashness, perchance will utter lamentations over their insanity; what matter? Conviction and experience quickly teach these large-hearted, fearless laborers that new power is imparted with every fresh burden trustingly accepted; for there is a mysterious strength born of perfect trust, incomprehensible to those who never trusted unreservedly.

Landor says, "We should bring out of every man and every creature as much utility as we may." Happy are they who apply the injunction to themselves, and, seeking to develop their own utmost utility, never evade a responsibility.

Shrink not from responsibility, oh, young maiden, just entering, with faltering feet and unworn heart, upon the slippery paths of life! Tread firmly, and stretch out thine arms to receive it with loving embrace! The very willingness to accept the burden will prevent its weight from bowing you earthward. But, with that willingness, be not "infirm of purpose," a gleaner only in the fields of imagination. Let your resolves go forth into positive acts. Heed the poet's warning, not to make of good intentions a Jacob's ladder, upon which your wishes mount to the skies, whilst you lie slumbering beneath:

"Alas! we make
A ladder of our thoughts, where angels step,
But sleep ourselves at the foot; our high resolves
Look down upon our slumbering acts."

The responsibilities assumed will oppress and grieve you sometimes, that is inevitable; they will not less surely gladden your heart in its hour of heaviness by the remembrance that you have gladdened others, that you have achieved something in your day, that you have fulfilled your part in the great scheme divine, which allots to every created being a separate share of labor, of responsibility, of rest, of reward.