gaze is upward. VI. JOY AND SORROW. Many years ago, two visitors were sent from realms above, to enter the homes of earth's inhabitants, and see how much of true happiness and real sorrow there were in their midst. Hand in hand they walked together, till they entered a pleasant valley nestled among green hills. At the base of one of these stood a cottage covered with roses and honeysuckles, which looked very inviting; and the external did not belie the interior. The family consisted of a man and wife somewhat advanced in years, an aged and infirm brother, and two lovely young girls, grandchildren of the couple. The pleasant murmur of voices floated on the air,--pleasant to the ear as the perfume of the roses climbing over the door was to the sense of smell. It chimed with the spell of the summer morning, and the sisters knew that harmony was within. "Let us enter," said Joy. Sorrow, who was unwilling to go into any abode, lingered outside. Within, all was as clean and orderly as one could desire: the young girls were diligently sewing, while before them lay an open volume, from which they occasionally read a page or so, thus mingling instruction with labor. Joy entered, and accosted them with, "A bright morning." "Very lovely," answered the girls, and they arose and placed a chair for their visitor. "We have much to be grateful for every day, but very much on such a day as this," remarked the grandmother. "You're a busy family," said Joy. "Yes, we all labor, and are fond of it," answered the woman, looking fondly at the girls. "We have many blessings, far more than we can be grateful for, I sometimes think." "Yes, I tell mother," broke in the husband, "that we must never lose sight of our blessings; in fact, they are all such, though often in