THE RETURN. DURING one of my visits in the country last summer, I met with the following incident, and I now relate it, believing that the thoughtful mind may gather instruction from its perusal. It was a lovely afternoon, and I had wandered forth to enjoy the surrounding scenery, and glories of the western sky. On reaching the summit of a hill, a short distance from the village, I beheld the bent form of an aged man leaning upon his staff. His garb was suited to his age, but was dusty and worn; and, as he stood there silent as a statue, unconscious of surrounding things, it seemed to me that his eyes were fixed on some object beyond the boundaries of this world, -something undiscernible to the gaze of common men. I approached and offered him my hand, which he received with a warm pressure, while a strange smile lighted his withered countenance. I saw that something heavy was at the old man's heart, and I asked him, as a friend, to tell me of his grief. He assented, and seating ourselves upon a rude seat near by, he thus proceeded : "My young friend, I have been thinking upon the pleasures and the sorrows of other days. At the mention of these two last words, how varied are the scenes which rise before me, causing my heart to flutter with joy, or tremble at remembered grief! I do not sympathize with those who tell me to forget the past, to trust no future, and live only for the present hour. Ah, no! such thoughts are inappropriate to an immortal soul on the borders of futurity! "Yonder smiling village, almost hidden from view by those lofty elms, is the place of my birth. In the clear waters of that broad river I have often bathed this frame, when the blood of health and youth sparkled through its veins. "Fifty years ago, I left a happy home to seek my fortune in the wide, wide world. Can I forget the tears, the blessings, and the breaking hearts of that sad parting? Dear parents, who have long since gone to your home of peace, forgive your erring child for his ingratitude and hardness of heart! He has reaped an abundant reward for his wayward and ambitious spirit. For many years, I have been a friendless and solitary wanderer in a crowded world. As in the Mayday of life, I am even now poor, ignorant, sinful, and unknown. There was a time when the nobles of a distant land enjoyed the luxuries of my table, but poverty stripped me of my possessions, and friendship became a name. The smile of flattery was changed to the frown of contempt and scorn, — and all, because I was poor. I have studied the human heart and the mysteries of the universe, but each succeeding year tends but to impress me more deeply with my ignorance. When I have reflected on the ravages of time, and the utter folly of living only for the present, I have striven to become a sinless creature, but my endeavours have proved vain. It is not age alone, but sin and its evil consequences, that have furrowed my brow so deeply. There was a time too, when my name was on the lips of a nation, when I was called great, honorable, and good, but that nation has forgotten me; those days are departed. --- -- 'I "A few hours since, and, after the absence of half a century, I returned to my native village, hoping to find there one person at least who would remember me, and bend over my couch when I should die. But no, seemed a stranger, or as one forgot.' I saw a youth with dark melancholy eyes and lofty forehead, walking thoughtfully in the shadow of the trees. I forgot myself, and called out the familiar name of an early friend, but the stranger thought the old man crazy,-and therefore heeded me not. It made me sad,· very sad. I heard the clear laugh of a maiden beyond a garden wall, and fancy pictured to my mind the deep blue eye, the heaving bosom and sweet smile of Mary Lee. Then I was happy. I saw a party of children returning from the strawberry fields, with baskets 'brimming full;' and, as they danced along with joyous hearts and blooming faces, I became a child once more. But when they came near, and gathered round to gaze at my thin white locks and furrowed cheeks, and one exclaimed 'see how the poor man trembles,' I felt that I was indeed old, and ripe for the sickle of death. As this happy group left me, a shade of thoughtfulness seemed to have settled on their young minds; and when one of the little girls lagged behind, and poured into my lap the contents of her basket, a tear of holy love dimmed my eyes, and I thanked God that he permitted angels to dwell upon the earth. Beautiful child!may I meet thy pure spirit in the realms of bliss! "I passed down the avenue, which once |