vanish before these sweet contemplations. With thee, in Bethlehem,
poverty and sorrow grow light; and the weariness of the rough ways of
life no more dismay. Let me follow with thee, sweet mother, after his
footsteps, until Calvary is crowned by a sacrifice and victim so divine
that angels, men, and earth wonder; let me, with thee, linger by his
cross, follow him to his sepulture, and rejoice with thee in his
resurrection." Do not let us suppose that May, in the overflowing of
her devout soul, forgot others, and thought only of herself; oh, no!
that charity, without which, all good works are as "sounding brass,"
animated her faith; as tenderly and lovingly she plead at the mercy
seat for her stern old guardian; and although she knew that he scorned
all religion, and would have given her rough jibes and scoffs for her
charity, she prayed none the less for his salvation; and now she sought
Heaven to strengthen and console the wounded and bereaved stranger who
had come amongst them. By the time she left her oratory, she had laid
by a store of strength and happiness, more than sufficient for the
trials of the day. Yet May was not faultless. She had a quickness and
sharpness of temper, which very often tempted her to the indulgence of
malice and uncharitableness; and a proud spirit, which could scarcely
brook injustice. But these natural defects were in a measure
counterbalanced by a high and lofty sense of responsibility to Almighty
God--a feeling of compassion and forgiveness for the frailties and
infirmities of others, and a generous and discriminating consideration
for the errors of all.

When Mr. Stillinghast came down that morning, everything was bright and
comfortable in the sitting-room. A clear fire burned in the grate; the
toast and coffee sent up an inviting odor; and the table was spread
with the whitest of linen, on which the cups and saucers were neatly
arranged. The morning paper was drying on a chair by the fire, and