short one and easily performed,
the woman now waited to watch the minister as he selected cedar boughs
and wove them into wreaths, and suspended them from the walls and
rafters of the little room; and it comforted the simple soul when,
standing in the doorway, the good man lifted his eyes toward heaven
and said in the words of the church litany:

From error and misunderstanding,
From the loss of our glory in Thee,
From self-complacency,
From untimely projects,
From needless perplexity,
From the murdering spirit and devices of Satan,
From the influence of the spirit of this world,
From hypocrisy and fanaticism,
From the deceitfulness of sin,
From all sin,
_Preserve us, gracious Lord and God_--

and devoutly she joined in with him in the solemn responsive cry.

It was very evident that the minister's work that day was not to be
performed in his silent home among his books.

On the brightest day let the sun become eclipsed, and how the earth
will pine! What melancholy will pervade the busy streets, the pleasant
fields and woods! How disconsolately the birds will seek their mates
and their nests!

The children came together, but many a half hour passed during
which the shadow of an Unknown seemed to come between them and their
teacher. The bright soul, was she too suffering from an eclipse? Does
it happen that all souls, even the most valiant, most loving, least
selfish, come in time to passes so difficult that, shrinking back,
they say, "Why should I struggle to gain the other side? What is
there worth seeking? Better to end all here. This life is not worth
enduring"? And yet, does it also come to pass as certainly that these
valiant, unselfish, loving ones will struggle, fight, climb, wade,
creep on, on while the breath of life remains in them, and never
surrender? It seemed as if Sister Benigna had arrived at a place where
her baffled spirit stood still and felt its helplessness. Could she
do nothing for Elise, the dear child for whose happiness she would
cheerfully give her life, and not think the price too dear?

By and by the children were aware that Sister Benigna had come again
among them: the humblest little flower lifted up its head, and the
smallest bird began to chirp and move about and smooth its wings.

Sister Benigna! what had she recollected?--that but a single day
perhaps was hers to live, and here were all these children! As she
turned with ardent zeal to her work--which