, 'Whence comes the light?' There is an inner world Mrs.
Endicott--a world full of light, and joy, and consolation--a world
whose sky is never darkened, whose sun is never hidden by clouds.
When we turn from all in this life that we vainly trusted, and lift
our eyes upward towards the sky, bending over our sad spirits, an
unexpected light breaks in upon us, and we see a new firmament,
glittering with myriads of stairs, whose light is fed from that
inner world where the sun shines for ever undimmed. Oh, no, I do not
tread a darkened pathway, Mrs. Endicott. There is light upon it from
the Sun of heaven, and I am walking forward, weary at times, it may
be, but with unwavering footsteps. I have been tried sorely, it is
true--I have suffered, oh how deeply! and yet I can say, and do say,
it is good for me that I was afflicted. But I meant not to speak so
much of myself, and you must forgive the intrusion. Self, you know,
is ever an attractive theme. I have called this morning to try and
interest you in a poor woman who lives next door to me. She is very
ill, and I am afraid will die. She has two children, almost
babes--sweet little things--and if the mother is taken they will be
left without a home or a friend, unless God puts it into the heart
of some one to give them both. I have been awake half the night,
thinking about them, and debating the difficult question of my duty
in the case. I might make room for one of them--"

"You!" Mrs. Endicott interrupted her in a voice of unfeigned
astonishment. "You! How can you give place a moment to such a
thought, broken down in health as you are and with five children of
your own clinging to you for support? It would be unjust to yourself
and to them. Don't think of such a thing."

"That makes the difficulty in the case," replied Mrs. Adair. "The
spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. My heart is large enough
to take both of them in; but I have not strength enough to bear the
added burden. And so I have come around this morning to see if I
cannot awaken your interest. They are dear, sweet children, and will
carry sunshine and a blessing into any home that opens to receive
them."

"But why, my friend," said Mrs. Endicott, "do you, whose time is so
precious--who have cares, and interests, and anxieties of your own,
far more than enough for one poor, weak woman to bear, burden
yourself with a duty like this? Leave the task to others more fitted
for the work."

"There are but fe