But memory was given us for better purposes than this, and mine is
not a torment, but a source of pleasure. To muse upon the gaiety
and youth I have known suggests to me glad scenes of harmless mirth
that may be passing now. From contemplating them apart, I soon
become an actor in these little dramas, and humouring my fancy,
lose myself among the beings it invokes.
When my fire is bright and high, and a warm blush mantles in the
walls and ceiling of this ancient room; when my clock makes
cheerful music, like one of those chirping insects who delight in
the warm hearth, and are sometimes, by a good superstition, looked
upon as the harbingers of fortune and plenty to that household in
whose mercies they put their humble trust; when everything is in a
ruddy genial glow, and there are voices in the crackling flame, and
smiles in its flashing light, other smiles and other voices
congregate around me, invading, with their pleasant harmony, the
silence of the time.
For then a knot of youthful creatures gather round my fireside, and
the room re-echoes to their merry voices. My solitary chair no
longer holds its ample place before the fire, but is wheeled into a
smaller corner, to leave more room for the broad circle formed
about the cheerful hearth. I have sons, and daughters, and
grandchildren, and we are assembled on some occasion of rejoicing
common to us all. It is a birthday, perhaps, or perhaps it may be
Christmas time; but be it what it may, there is rare holiday among
us; we are full of glee.
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