rom venturing into
an atmosphere which her fancy pictured as so cold and uncongenial,
endeavoured to reassure her, by reminding her of what she knew,
indeed, but found it difficult to realize, that her Saviour could be
as near her in the crowded city as in her quiet country home, since
His love is

"A flower that cannot die
For lack of leafy screen;"

and that it was a sickly Christianity which must necessarily fade and
droop when removed from the atmosphere in which it had been originally
nurtured.

"Well," she said at last disconsolately, "it doesn't matter so very
much. I can never be very happy again, now papa is gone; and the best
thing is to think most about the home he has gone to, and try to
follow him there."

Something of this kind she wrote to her old friend and teacher, Mrs.
Harris, who had sent her a letter of loving sympathy. She smiled half
sadly when she read Lucy's disconsolate reply. Mrs. Harris had seen
enough of life to know that a young heart is not permanently depressed
by a first grief; and she feared for Lucy, if she should trust to the
influence of sorrow alone to keep her "unspotted from the world."

"My dear Lucy," she wrote, "while it is well that you should always
cherish your dear father's memory, and keep his counsels and his
example always with you as a protecting influence, beware of trusting
too much to this. He himself would have told you that it is not him
you are to follow, but Him whom he followed, 'Jesus Christ, the same
yesterday, to-day, and for ever.' This alone can be our strength. Time
is strong against our deepest sorrow, and no influence can permanently
hold, except the constraining love of Christ. Never lose the habit of
looking steadily to Him, and to Him alone, for daily and hourly
strength."

It was wise counsel, and Lucy in time came to find out how true it
was.

It is needless to dwell upon the pain of the breaking up,--the packing
up and stowing away treasured possessions, so closely associated with
the times now passed away; the sorrowful leave-takings of old friends,
who felt as if they were losing the last link with their beloved
minister in the departure of his family; the sad farewell looks at all
the well-known home objects, the flower-beds, the gravel walks, the
shrubs and trees, every twig of which had such a familiar look. Many a
time it seemed as if it must be only a sad dream, that all these
things were about to pass from her daily