It was born with me, and is a part of myself,--just as much as the shadow I cast upon the sunshine.

I can no more remove it than I could the thunder-cloud from Jehovah's arch." I trembled at the strength of his language, and it seemed as if the shadow were stealing over my own soul.

His employment was prophetic.

He was pulling the rose-leaves from my basket, and scattering them unconsciously on the floor.
"See what I have done," said he, looking down on the wreck.
"So the roses of confidence are scattered and destroyed by the cruel hand of mistrust," cried I, stooping to gather the fallen petals.
"Let them be," said he, sadly, "you cannot restore them." "I know it; but I can remove the ruins." I was quite distressed at the turn the conversation had taken.

I could not bear to think that one to whom the Creator had been so bountiful of his gifts, should appreciate so little the blessings given.