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HE reader of this little book must not close it with a sad aspect. Thank God, there are few griefs without some counterbalancing comforts; and this afflicting subject, so long without hope, is now. The contrasts of life, the lights and shadows of existence, are sometimes so strong as to be absolutely painful; yet their strength and rapidity of change are, in many cases, blessings. Our church bell the other morning had been tolling, at intervals, for a funeral; the morning was dull and clouded, and the sound, instead of rising through the atmosphere, boomed heavily and gloomily along it. A cessation followed: I was so occupied that I hardly noted how long it was, when, suddenly, the joy bells struck up, ringing out such merry music that I remembered, at once, there was a wedding going forward that day; a right gay bridal; rank, fashion, and wealth; love also, I had been told, was, of a surety, there; all that young hearts desire being gathered together; and the bells again and again rang forth, until the air vibrated. At first the change was very painful; so sudden, and startling, and jarring, that I longed to shut it out; but when I opened my window and looked forth, the contrast of sight was as great as was that of sound; the clouds were floating away in the distance, and around