was all Mrs. Sill could say.

On their way home Faith spoke of the promising appearance of the
children, and of what the hopes of the mother must be on their
account.

"It is true they are all that are left to her," said Mr. Armstrong,
"and what hopes she has of earthly happiness must be built on them.
But who can look into to-morrow? A few days ago, never dreaming of
misfortune, she exulted in the enjoyment of her husband and little
boys. The first is taken away, and none know how soon the latter may
be. So joys and sorrows are mingled together. At this moment she is
more miserable for having been happy, and so great is the misery, it
outweighs all the happiness of former years. Such is the nature of
pain and pleasure. A pang of the former, an instant's acute agony, may
be equivalent to hours of what is called enjoyment. We are so made. We
may hope for happiness: we are certain of sorrow. We must seek
after the one: the other is sure to find us. When I look round, what
evidences of wretchedness do I see! Alas, it is indeed a fallen world,
and the ground is cursed for man's sake."

"You take a gloomy view, father," said Faith. "Look beyond. Are we not
promised a happier time when the bliss of Eden shall be renewed?"

"Yes, and the time will come. Not only prophets and apostles have
had it revealed to them, but grand souls among the heathen have dimly
descryed its dawning from afar. But what unimaginable scenes of horror
must first be? What doleful _misereres_ must first ascend to cloud
the brightness of the heavens and dim the joy of the blest! Long, long
before then, your and my remembrance, Faith, will have perished from
the earth. You will be then a seraph, and I--. If there be ever an
interval of pain, it will be when I think of your blessedness, and
you, if angels sometimes weep, will drop a tear to the memory of your
father, and it shall cool his torment."

What could the grieved and alarmed daughter say? She spoke in gentle
and loving tones. She combated by every possible argument these
miserable fancies. She entreated him for her sake as well as his own,
to cast them off. He listened to her without impatience, and as if
he loved to hear the sound of her voice. But he shook his head with
a mournful sadness, and his melancholy remained. As may well be
supposed, the dark cloud that had settled down upon his mind was not
thus to be dissipated. Faith, though troubled, did not despair. She
trusted the impressi