reason, what explanation, of the hidden martyrdoms of the work-a-day
world, which the blank wall of heaven seems to regard with utter
unconcern?

Mankind to-day is less disposed than ever of yore to calmly fold the
hands and say, "It is the will of God." They can no longer do so
honestly without either blaming or criticising the Divine Will that not
merely permits, but is said to send, such martyrdoms.

Better surley to accept bravely the enigma of the universe, and strive
to lessen the suffering in our own little sphere, believing that same
Divine Will is striving with us to mitigate the ills humanity has
brought upon itself through blind disobedience and careless
indifference to the laws of nature.

Uncomplaining resignation may help by its example, but the resignation
which sits with folded hands and makes no effort to amend, is only a
form of feebleness. The strong soul accepts life silently as a field
of battle, asking for energy, resource, courage, and that fine spirit
which obeys the unseen general in unquestioning faith.

It was only in such a spirit, through those years of pain and mysgtery,
that Ethel was able to witness her passionately loved brother's
martyrdom, and give all the years of her youth to earn that pour salary
from a wealthy Empire, to keep some sort of a home for the three of
them in the little, dingy Holloway flat.

For even if Doris had been capable of sustained endeavour, the
bedridden man could not have been left alone for long, and no choice
was left them but to eke out Ethel's pitiful £110 salary between them.