“In this world are the spiritual flowers we were speaking about?” said Mrs. Markland, smiling.

“Yes, ma’am; in this world of causes, where originate all effects seen in the world of nature,” answered Mrs. Willet;—­“the world from which flowers as well as men are born.”

“I am bewildered,” said Mrs. Markland, “by these suggestions.  That a volume of truth lies hidden from common eyes in this direction, I can well believe.  As yet my vision is too feeble to penetrate the vail.”

“If you look steadily in this direction, your eyes will, in time, get accustomed to the light, and gradually see clearer and clearer,” said Mrs. Willet.

CHAPTER XXV.

SOME incidents interrupted the conversation at this point, and when it flowed on again, it was in a slightly varied channel, and gradually changed from the abstract into matters of more personal interest.

“What a mystery is life!” exclaimed Mrs. Markland, the words following an observation that fell from the lips of Mr. Willet.

“Is it a mystery to you?” was asked, with something of surprise in the questioner’s tone.

“There are times,” replied Mrs. Markland, “when I can see a harmony, an order, a beauty in every thing; but my vision does not always remain clear.  Ah! if we could ever be content to do our duty in the present, and leave results to Him who cares for us with an infinite love!”

“A love,” added Mrs. Willet, “that acts by infinite wisdom.  Can we not trust these fully?  Infinite love and infinite wisdom?”

“Yes!—­yes!—­reason makes unhesitating response.  But when dark days come, how the poor heart sinks!  Our faith is strong when the sky is bright.  We can trust the love and wisdom of our Maker when broad gleams of sunshine lie all along our pathway.”

“True; and therefore the dark days come to us as much in mercy as the bright ones, for they show us that our confidence in Heaven is not a living faith.  ‘There grows much bread in the winter night,’ is a proverb full of a beautiful significance.  Wheat, or bread, is, in the outer world of nature, what good is in the, inner world of spirit.  And as well in the winter night of trial and adversity is bread grown, as in the winter of external nature.  The bright wine of truth we crush from purple clusters in genial autumn; but bread grows even while the vine slumbers.”

“I know,” said Mrs. Markland, “that, in the language of another, ‘sweet are the uses of adversity.’  I know it to be true, that good gains strength and roots itself deeply in the winter of affliction and adversity, that it may grow up stronger, and produce a better harvest in the end.  As an abstract truth, how clear this is!  But, at the first chilling blast, how the spirit sinks; and when the sky grows dull and leaden, how the heart shivers!”

“It is because we rest in mere natural and external things as the highest good.”