The Three Brides, Love in a Cottage, and Other Tales Part 58

"You are very old, father--and age has cankered you."

"A twelvemonth since, young child of Time," replied the old man, "I was like you."

"A twelvemonth! Your back is bent, your locks are silvery, your voice is tremulous. How is this?"

"Wrinkles and gray hairs are the work of sorrows, not of years. Eyes that are weary of the sight of suffering grow dim apace."

"But hark!" said the youth. "Hear you not that music--the peals of laughter that come from yonder illuminated house? It is a wedding festival."

"Yes," replied the old man, sadly. "A twelvemonth since, I heard the same sounds in the same house. There was music and feasting--it was, as now, a wedding festival. Where is the bride? Go to yonder churchyard. You will find her name inscribed on a simple stone. If you pa.s.s out of the city to the north, you will see some huge buildings of brick, towering upon an eminence. If you linger by the garden wall you will hear shrieks and curses, the howls of despair, the ravings of hopeless lunacy. The husband is there--the victim of his own evil pa.s.sions--a raving maniac."

"Away with these croaking reminiscences!" cried the younger voice.

"Let the music peal--let the dance go on. The wine is red within the cup."

"Yes--and the deadly serpent lurks below."

"Then the world is all desolate!" cried the New Year.

"No! there are green spots in the desert!" said the Old Year; "but beware of deeming it all fairyland! But a little while and you will follow me. But the end is not here--after Time, Eternity! There suffering and sin are unknown. There each departed spirit, after making the circuit of its appointed sphere, shall rise to a higher and a higher, while boundless love and wisdom illuminate all, radiating from a centre whose brightness no human senses can conceive."

The old man was gone. The joyous bells had rung his requiem. The young heir was enthroned--and with mingled hope and foreboding commenced the reign of 1853.