As for the widow, soon after her husband’s death, she found that poverty was to be added to affliction.  A few hundred dollars made up the sum of all that she received after the settlement of his business, which had never been in a very prosperous condition.  On this, under the exercise of extreme frugality, she had been enabled to live for nearly a year.  Then the paucity of her little store made it apparent to her mind that individual exertion was required directed towards procuring the means of support for her little family.  Ignorant of the way in which this was to be done, and having no one to advise her, nearly two months more passed before she could determine what to do.  By that time she had but a few dollars left, and was in a state of great mental distress and uncertainty.  She then applied for work at some of the shops, and obtained common sewing, but at prices that could not yield her any thing like a support.

Hiram, her oldest son, had been kept at school up to this period.  But now she had to withdraw him.  It was impossible any longer to pay his tuition fees.  He was an intelligent lad—­active in mind, and pure in his moral principles.  But like his mother; sensitive, and inclined to avoid observation.  Like her, too, he had a proud independence of feeling, that made him shrink from asking or accepting a favor, putting himself under an obligation to any one.  He first became aware of his mother’s true condition, when she took him from school, and explained the reason for so doing.  At once his mind rose into the determination to do something to aid his mother.  He felt a glowing confidence, arising from the consciousness of strength within.  He felt that he had both the will and the power to act, and to act efficiently.

“Don’t be disheartened, mother,” he said, with animation.  “I can and will do something.  I can help you.  You have worked for me a great many years.  Now I will work for you.”

Where there is a will, there is a way.  But it is often the case, that the will lacks the kind of intelligence that enables it to find the right way at once.  So it proved in the case of Hiram Mayberry.  He had a strong enough will, but did not know how to bring it into activity.  Good, without its appropriate truth, is impotent.  Of this the poor lad soon became conscious.  To the question of his mother—­

“What can you do, child!” an answer came not so readily.

“Oh, I can do a great many things,” was easily said; but, even in saying so, a sense of inability followed the first thought of what he should do, that the declaration awakened.