the open window over the pasture, and grove, and the blue lake beyond.
"I think life is very beautiful," he said, after a long pause. "I have
no patience with people who are always sighing and complaining, always
talking of the cold world, the hard lot of man, and the sufferings of
humanity. I always felt sure that they themselves have no taste for
beauty, no affection for their friends, or enthusiasm for great deeds,
and, judging others by themselves, of course they are always looking
for double motives in the kindest actions, and hypocrisy in the most
unselfish impulses."

"What has brought these thoughts to the surface, Hugh?"

"The beauty of the sky and the lake. How can any one look at them and
not be happy?"

"If you were very poor, Hugh, you might not have time to look at
them," said Bessie, taking up the other side.

"Why not? One can work and not be blind! I expect to work all my life,
but I am going to be happy too."

"But suppose you should lose all those you love,--suppose they should
all die," said Bessie, pursuing the argument.

"Even then I should be happy on such a day and with such a sky. I
cannot understand how people who believe God's word can brood over
their sorrows in such a gloomy way. Are not the dead with their great
Creator? Can we not trust them to Him? Why, when I look up into this
blue sky, I can almost see them there. My mother,--how often I think
of her; not with sadness, always with pleasure, and a bright