May hand, and heart, and hopes, and zeal, And should it shake the common weal, LESSON LXXXV. EXPLANATORY NOTE.—1. The IG' NIS FAT'U US is a meteoric light which appears at night, over marshy grounds, supposed to be phosphoric matter emitted from decaying animals or vegetables. It disappears as one approaches the spot where it was seen. The words, literally, mean a harmless or flashy fire. MEMORY AND HOPE.-AN APOLOGUE. JAMES K. PAULDING. 1. HOPE is the leading-string of youth; Memory is the staff of old age; yet, for a long time, they were at variance, and scarcely ever associated together. Memory was almost always grave,-nay, sad and melancholy. She delighted in silence and repose, amid rocks and waterfalls,—and, whenever she raised her eyes from the ground, it was to look back over her shoulder. Hope was a smiling, dancing, rosy boy, with sparkling eyes, whom it was impossible to look upon, without being inspired by his gay and sprightly buoyance. 2. Wherever he went, he diffused around him gladness and joy, the eyes of the young sparkled brighter than ever at his approach,-old age, as it cast its dim glance at the blue vault. of heaven, seemed inspired with new vigor,-the flowers looked more gay, the grass, more green,—the birds sung more cheerily,--and all nature seemed to sympathize in his gladness. Memory was of mortal birth; but Hope partook of immortality.. 3. Once they chanced to meet, and Memory reproached Hope with being a deceiver, she charged him with deluding mankind by visionary, impracticable schemes, and exciting expectations that only led to disappointment and regret,-with being the ignis fatuus' of youth, and the scourge of old age. But Hope cast back upon her the charge of deceit, and maintained that the pictures of the past were as much exaggerated by Memory as were the anticipations of Hope. He declared that she looked at objects at a great distance in the past,―he, in the future, and that this distance magnified every thing. "Let us make the circuit of the world," said he, "“and try the experiment." Memory consented, reluctantly, and they went their way together. 4. The first person they met was a school-boy, lounging lazily along, and stopping every moment to gaze around, as if unwilling to proceed on his way;-by-and-by he sat down and burst into tears. "Whither so fast, my good lad?" asked Hope, cheeringly. "I am going to school," replied the lad, "to study, when I would a thousand times rather be at play, —and to sit on a bench with a book in my hand, while I long to be sporting in the fields. But never mind, I shall be a man soon, and then I shall be as free as the air." Saying this, he skipped away merrily, in the hope of soon being a man. "It is thus you play upon the inexperience of youth," said Memory, reproach fully. 5. Passing onward, they met a beautiful girl, pacing, in a slow and melancholy manner, behind a party of gay young men and maidens who walked arm in arm with each other, and were flirting and exchanging all those harmless courtesies which nature prompts on such occasions. They were all gayly dressed in silks and ribbons; but the little girl had on a simple frock, a homely apron, and clumsy thick-soled shoes. "Why do you not join yonder group," asked Hope, "and partake in the gayety, my pretty little girl?" "Alas!" replied she, "they take no notice of me. They call me a child. But I shall soon be a woman, and then I shall be so happy!" Inspired by this hope, she quickened her pace, and was soon seen dancing merrily with the rest. 6. In this manner they wended their way, from nation to nation, and clime to clime, until they had made the circuit of the universe. Wherever they came, they found the human race, repining at the present, and looking forward to a riper age for happiness. All anticipated some future good,—and Memory had scarce any thing to do but cast looks of reproach at her companion. "Let us return home," said she, “to that delightful spot where I first drew my breath. I long to repose among its beautiful bowers,-to listen to the brooks that murmured a thousand times sweeter,—and to the echoes that were softer than any I have since heard. Ah! there is nothing on earth so enchanting as the scenes of my earliest youth." 7. Hope indulged himself in a sly, significant smile, and they proceeded on their way home. As they journeyed but slowly, many years elapsed ere they reached the spot whence 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, in their first outset 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 8. "What aileth thee, old man?" asked the youth. aileth!" he replied, in a feeble, faltering voice," 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 I loved, or that loved me,-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 sensation to know that I am miserable,—and the recollection of the happiness of youthful days, when, careless and full of blissful anticipations, I was a laughing merry boy, only adds to the miseries I now endure." 9. "Behold!" cried Hope, "the deception practiced by thyself! Dost thou remember the boy we met when we first set out together, who was weeping on his way to school, and sighing to be a man?” 10. A little onward they came to a miserable cottage, at the door of which was an aged woman, meanly clad, and shaking with the 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 charming salutation. 11. "Happiness!" said she, in a voice that quivered with weakness and infirmity. "Happiness! I have had it not since 1 was a little girl, without care or sorrow. O, I remember those delightful 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, or wished to be any other than I was. But those happy times are past, never to return, O, if I could only once more return to the days of my childhood!" 12. The old woman sunk back on her seat, and the tears flowed from her hollow eyes. Hope again reproached her companion, 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. 13. They now approached their home, and Memory was on tiptoe, at the thoughts of once more enjoying the unequaledbeauties 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, or the birds sing half so enchantingly, as she remembered them in long time past. "Alas!" she exclaimed, "how changed is every thing!" 14. "Every thing is the same,--and thou alone art changed," answered Hope. "Thou hast deceived thyself in the past, much as I deceive others in the future." 15. “What is it you are disputing about?" asked an old man, whom they had not observed before, though he was standing close by them; "I have lived almost four-score 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 around 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 turned 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 blessings of health!" 16. "And dost thou not despair?" said Memory. "No; I still have one hope left me." "And what is that?" "The hope of Heaven!" Memory turned toward Hope, threw herself into his arms which opened to receive her, and burst into tears, exclaiming:-"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. LESSON LXXXVI. EXPLANATORY NOTES.-1. MU' RAL means pertaining to a wall. Among the ancient Romans, a mural crown, or golden crown, was bestowed on him who first mounted the wall of a besieged city, and there lodged a standard. 2. EPHEMERA literally denotes that species of insects which live only one day. It is, also, applied to insects which live but a short time, whether several days or an hour. Figuratively, it denotes any thing short-lived. THE CHRISTIAN'S HOPE. 1. "SAY, what is Hope?" I asked an ancient sage, With tott'ring gait, and head quite white with age; Hope!" he replied, "'tis but a meteor ray, A breath, a dream, the phantom of a day." 2. I asked the mariner on ocean's wave, Where many thousands find an early grave; 'My hope," he said, "lies on that distant strand, 3. I asked the warrior on the tented plain, Now strewed with bodies of the conquered slain; |