till deeper grew the overshadowing cloud, and the
hopes of the trusting ones less. Mrs. Grosvenor would sit for whole days
brooding over her sorrows, clinging to the last ray of hope, with
almost the insanity of hope; but the last spark finally went out, never
again to be rekindled. The untiring wheels of time still went their
rounds, and everything moved on, as if there were no hearts beating in
discordant measure to the joyous song of nature. Sympathizing friends
pitied the afflicted, and the world read,--"A noble ship lost at sea!
all on board supposed to have perished! Ship and cargo valued at thirty
thousand dollars; no insurance!" and they exclaim,--"ah, the sailor's
life is indeed hard!" But they dwell upon the latter clause of the
paragraph with as much real pity, the words fall upon their ear,
conveying as much of real sadness to their minds, as that many families
have been called to mourn the loss of one of their members. The
Sea-flower could hardly become reconciled to the thought that she would
never see her father more, yet for her mother's sake she suppressed her
grief, endeavoring to soothe her weary spirits by those refreshing
promises of Him who dries the mourner's tear,--binding up the wounds of
the broken-hearted.

"Dear mother, we are called upon to bear a heavy trial; this is indeed
a bitter, bitter draught, yet we must not forget 'tis our Father holds
the cup. You have taught me to smile upon his chastening rod, but in
this dark hour of trial truly the flesh is weak; yet we will rest upon
the strength of His arm, He will not forsake us; and, mother, His ways
indeed are higher than our ways. How tenderly has he dealt with us,
inasmuch as he has so ordered that our dear Harry should be spared to
us; for as I look upon the past, I can see nothing but the kindly
interference of his will, that my brother did not share the same grave
with his father."

"My darling, your precious words shed light over my weary pathway. I
fear that I have sinned in thus murmuring at God's will, for I would not
see his loving kindness in sparing to me my boy. But it is so very
hard,--so dreadful,--that in that hour when his spirit winged its way to
that better land, we might not pause from our worldly pursuits, turning
our eyes heavenward; craving strength to bear our cross; but your words
of love, my child, remind me of that Being who is the fountain-head of
loveliness, and I thank God for his gift of you."

"If I am a