“To be forced to endure it only a year would be beyond my strength. Neither my disposition, nor tastes, nor health could stand what I have to bear.” “How many others are in a similar position, but without even the hope you have of soon exchanging an employment without results—detestable, if you like—for one more congenial! The task they are pursuing must be that of their whole lives. They know it, and resign themselves to it. You, who have only to bear your trials for a certain time, must imitate their example. Come, come, my friend, every one has his cross here below. Let us bear ours cheerfully, and it will soon seem light.” These consoling words were uttered in a sympathetic tone, as if they came from the heart. I was touched. I began to look at Mme. Agnes more attentively than ever before, and the thought occurred to me like a revelation: “How much this woman must have suffered, and how instructive would be the account of her life!” “Mme. Agnes,” said I, “your advice is excellent, but example would produce a still greater impression on me. I beg you to relate the history of your life. You have evidently gone through much suffering, and with great patience, I am confident. I will endeavor to conform to your example.” “You require a sad task of me,” she replied; “but no matter, I will gratify you. My story—and who of us has not one?—will prove useful to you, I think. But you must not be so ready to declare me a saint. I never was one, as you will soon see. Yes, I have suffered, as you suppose—greatly suffered, and have learned that the best means of mitigating our sufferings is to submit to God’s will, and to cherish it. The lesson to be derived from my history will be of use to you, I trust, and therefore I yield to your request. “One word more before commencing. I would observe that the account of my own life is closely interwoven with the lives of several persons whom you will not reproach me for making you acquainted with. By a concurrence of circumstances which would appear to me almost inexplicable did I not behold the hand of God therein, my life for many years was identified, so to speak, with theirs. I witnessed the struggles these loved ones had to make; I shared their very thoughts; I sympathized in their sorrows, as they in mine; and I also had the happiness of participating in their joys. “When, therefore, I invoke these remembrances you wish me to recall, I find all along the pathway of my life these friends now gone. I could not relate my own history without relating theirs. But everything encourages me to go on. The task is pleasant. It is sweet to speak of those we have loved! The faithful picture I am going to draw of their lives will be as full of instruction to you, my friend, as that of my own.” CHAPTER II. PROVIDENCE SENDS A LODGER.