ere they approached the spot from which they had departed. It so happened one day, that they met an old man, bending under the weight of years, and walking with trembling steps, leaning on his staff. Memory at once recognized him as the youth they had seen going to school, on their first onset in the tour of the world. As they came nearer, the old man reclined on his staff, and looking at Hope, who, being immortal, was still a blithe young boy, sighed, as if his heart was breaking. "What aileth thee, old man ?" asked the youth. "What should ail me, but old age? I have outlived my health and strength; I have survived all that was near and dear; I have seen all that I loved, or that loved me, struck down to the earth like dead leaves in autumn; and now I stand like an old tree, withering, alone in the world, without roots, without branches, and without verdure. I have only just enough of sensation to know that I am miserable, and the recollection of the happiness of my youthful days, when, careless and full of blissful anticipations, I was a laughing, merry boy, only adds to the miseries I now endure."

8. "Behold!" said Memory, "the consequence of thy deceptions," and she looked reproachfully at her companion. "Behold!" replied Hope, "the deception practiced by thyself. Thou persuadest him that he was happy in his youth. Dost thou remember the boy we met when we first set out together, who

was weeping on his way to school, and sighed to be a man?" Memory cast down her eyes, and was silent.

9. A little way onward they came to a miserable cottage, at the door of which was an aged woman, meanly clad, and shaking with palsy. She sat all alone, her head resting on her bosom, and as the pair approached, vainly tried to raise it up to look at them. "Good-morrow, old lady, and all happiness to you," cried Hope, gayly, and the old woman thought it was a long time since she had heard such a cheering salutation. Happiness!" said she, in a voice that quivered with weakness and infirmity. "Happiness! I have not known it since I was a little girl, without care or sorrow. Oh, I remember those days, when I thought of nothing but the present moment, nor cared for the future or the past. When I laughed, and played, and sung, from morning till night, and envied no one, and wished to be no other than I was. But those happy

times are passed, never to return.

Oh, could I but

once more return to the days of my childhood!" The old woman sunk back on her seat, and the tears flowed from her hollow eyes. Memory again reproached her campanion, but he only asked her if she recollected the little girl they had met a long time ago, who was so miserable because she was so young? Memory knew it well enough, and said not another word.

10. They now approached their home, and Memory was on tiptoe with the thought of once more enjoying

the unequaled beauties of those scenes from which she had been so long separated. But, some how or other, it seemed that they were sadly changed. Neither the grass was so green, the flowers so sweet and lovely, nor did the brooks murmur, the echoes answer, nor the birds sing half so enchantingly, as she remembered them in time past. "Alas!" she exclaimed, “how changed is every thing! I alone am the same!" Every thing is the same, and thou alone art changed," answered Hope. "Thou hast deceived thyself in the past, just as much as I deceive cthers in the future."

11. "What are you disputing about?" asked an old man, whom they had not observed before, though he was standing close by them. "I have lived almost fourscore and ten years, and my experience may, perhaps, enable me to decide between you." They told him the occasion of their disagreement, and related the history of their journey round the earth. The old man smiled, and for a few moments, sat buried in thought. He then said to them: "I, too, have lived to see all the hopes of my youth turn into shadows, clouds, and darkness, and vanish into nothing. I, too, have survived my fortune, my friends, my children ; the hilarity of youth, and the blessing of health." "And dost thou not despair?" said Memory. "No, I haye still one hope left me." "And what is that ?" "The hope of heaven!"

12. Memory turned towards Hope, threw herself into his arms, which opened to receive her, and, bursting into tears, exclaimed: "Forgive me, I have done thee injustice. Let us never again separate from each other." "With all my heart," said Hope, and they continued forever after to travel together, hand in hand, through the world.

LVIL CHRISTMAS.

LORD JOHN MANNERS.

1. Old Christmas comes about again,
The blessed day draws near,

Albeit our faith and love do wax

More faint and cold each year.

Oh! but it was a goodly sound,
In th' unenlightened days,

To hear our fathers raise their song
Of simple-hearted praise.

2. Oh! but it was a goodly sight
The rough-built hall to see,
Glancing with high-born dames and men,
And hinds' of low degree.

To Holy Church's dearest sons,

The humble and the poor,
To all who came, the seneschal

Threw open wide the door.

3. With morris-dance, and carol-song,

And quaint old mystery,
Memorials of a holy-day

Were mingled in their glee.

Red berries bright, and holly green,
Proclaimed o'er hall and bower,
That Holy Church ruled all the land
With undisputed power.

4. O'er wrekin' wide, from side to side,
From greybeard, maid, and boy,
Loud rang the notes, swift flowed the tide
Of unrestrained joy.

And now, of all our customs rare,
And good old English ways,
This one, of keeping Christmas-time,
Alone has reached our days.

5. Still, though our hearty glee has gone,
Though faith and love be cold,

Still do we welcome Christmas-tide
As fondly as of old.

Still round the old paternal hearth

Do loving faces meet,

And brothers, parted through the year,

Do brothers kindly greet.