accurately of humanity than a year's ordinary experience would have
enabled me to do. And the moral which I drew was this: that under our
most terrible afflictions, we may always gain some spiritual good, if
we suffer them to be softening and purifying rather than hardening
influences over us. And also, that while we are suffering the most
acutely, we may be sure that others are suffering still more acutely;
and if we would but sympathise with them more than with
ourselves--live out of our ownselves, and in the wide world around
us--we would soon be healed while striving to heal others. Of this I
am convinced: the secret of life, and of all its good, is in love; and
while we preserve this, we can never fail of comfort. The sweet waters
will always gush out over the sandiest desert of our lives while we
can love; but without it--nay, not the merest weed of comfort or of
virtue would grow under the feet of angels. In this was the
distinction between Mrs Arden and Julia Reay. The one had hardened her
heart under her trials, and shut it up in itself; the other had opened
hers to the purest love of man and love of God; and the result was to
be seen in the despair of the one and in the holy peace of the other.

Full of these thoughts, I sought out my poor lady, determined to do
her real benefit if I could. She received me very kindly, for I had
taken care to provide myself with a sufficient introduction, so as to
set all doubts of my social position at rest: and I knew how far this
would go with her. We soon became fast friends. She seemed to rest on
me much for sympathy and comfort, and soon grew to regard me with a
sort of motherly fondness that of itself brightened her life. I paid
her all the attention which a devoted son might pay--humoured her
whims, soothed her pains; but insensibly I led her mind out from
itself--first in kindness to me, and then in love to her grandson.