. I have
read of one who was chained on his back to the dungeon floor, without
the power to move one muscle,--hand and foot, body and limb bound. As he
lay thus prone, looking up, ever upwards, he saw a circular knife,
slowly descending, swinging like a pendulum, swinging nearer and nearer;
and he knew that every breath he drew it came nearer and nearer, and
that he _must_ feel anon the cold, sharp edge. Yet he lay still,
immovable, frozen, waiting, with his glazed eyes fixed on the terrible
weapon. Such was _my_ resignation--_my_ submission.

Friends gathered around the desolate; but they could not avert the
descending stroke. Mrs. Linwood came, with her angelic looking daughter,
and their presence lighted up, momentarily, our saddened dwelling, as if
they had been messengers from heaven,--they were so kind, so
sympathizing, so unobtrusive. When Edith first crossed our threshold,
she did indeed look like one of those ministering spirits, sent to watch
over those who shall be heirs of salvation. She seemed to float forward,
light and airy as the down wafted by the summer gale. Her crutches, the
ends of which were wrapped with something soft and velvety, so as to
muffle their sound, rather added than detracted from the interest and
grace of her appearance, so gracefully they sustained her fair,
white-robed form, just lifting it above the earth.

A little while before, I should have shrunk with nervous diffidence from
the approach of guests like these. I should have contrasted painfully
the splendor of their position with the lowliness of our own,--but now,
what were wealth or rank or earthly distinctions to me?

I was sitting by my mother's bed, fanning her slumbers, as they entered.
Mrs. Linwood walked noiselessly forward, took the fan gently from my
hand, and motioned me to resign my seat to her. I did so mechanically,
for it seemed she had a right to be there. Then Edith took me by the
hand and looked in my face with an expression of such sweet, unaffected
sympathy, I turned aside to hide the quick-gushing tears. Not a word was
uttered, yet I knew they came to soothe and comfort.

When my mother opened her eyes and saw the face of a stranger bending
over her, she started and trembled; but there was something in the mild,
Christian countenance of Mrs. Linwood that disarmed her fears, and
inspired confidence. The pride which had hitherto repelled the advances
of friendship, was all chastened and subdued. Death, the g