18 THE SNOW DROP. 



ship rolled on — and even the eye of such loves as 

 Theresa's might never, never catch a trace where- 

 by to discern the spot of his obsequies. Ocean 

 was his tomb : and who should reveal in what 

 chamber of the mighty mausoleum those cherish 

 ed relics had found rest, until that day when the 

 sea shall give up its dead ! 



As yet, no real peace had visited the soul of the 

 mourner : the enemy was restrained, that he 

 should no longer inflict on her the torture of his 

 blasphemous suggestions : but grief, corroding 

 grief, ate into the vital principle. She was desolate, 

 and a widow, moving to and fro : looking for some 

 manifestation of that divine love, of which the first 

 breathings were yet hardly perceptible in her soul ; 

 yet without any energy of prayer, any confident 

 hope, or such a measure of faith as might enable her 

 to lay hold on one of those promises, whereof she 

 was very certain that her dear husband was en- 

 joying the glorious fulfilment in heaven. 



In this wretched state Theresa returned to the 

 home of her widowed mother; but there she 

 could not remain. She pined for the ministery 

 under which her departed husband had first re- 

 ceived a blessing, and gave her mother no rest, 

 until she consented to remove to that place ; where, 

 on the first Sunday after the arrival, we were 

 brought in the house of prayer. 



Theresa had taken the infection, while tending 



