never to be fulfilled! Afar off we see a glittering light, soft and clear as that of the fire-flies that illumine the darkness of night. It is distant, very distant; that distance is the future, unknown, mysterious, always before us, never to be overtaken. We see the bright beam, but between it and us all is vague and shadowy. The solitary light is hope, with its glowing radiance, its deceptive mirage; hope that instills into us life and courage to go on—on—into the dim future of many griefs and few joys; that future from which, could they peer into it, many would shrink aghast, and to which others would wish to rush blindly forward to gather the yet unripe fruit that in their ignorance—poor fools!—they think will give them happiness. O, soft ray! O, fair hope! everchanging, never, never true! for delightful as the reality may be, how far does it fall short of the expectation! The nectar we have longed to quaff no sooner reaches our lips than it becomes embittered! Hope is but a vain shadow, and we cling to it as to a strong anchor; like the bright reflection cast by a mirror, its light withdrawn leaves us in yet greater darkness, Daughter, those who have no hope are never disappointed."
"Ah, let us not lose it!" I interrupted; "better to be disappointed than hopeless; few indeed are
