Happy the man, and happy he alone, He who can call to-day his own: He who, secure within, can say, To-morrow do thy worst, for I have lived to-day. Be storm, or calm, or rain, or shine, The joys I have possessed in spite of fate are mine. Not heaven itself upon the past has power, But what has been has been, and I have had my hour. --Dryden. A large party was assembled at the Grange. Among them were some of the young ladies who were to form the chorus; one elderly spinster, Miss Ilex, who passed more than half her life in visits, and was everywhere welcome, being always good-humoured, agreeable in conversation, having much knowledge of society, good sense in matters of conduct, good taste and knowledge in music; sound judgment in dress, which alone sufficed to make her valuable to young ladies; a fair amount of reading, old and new; and on most subjects an opinion of her own, for which she had always something to say; Mr. MacBorrowdale, an old friend of Mr. Gryll, a gentleman who comprised in himself all that Scotland had ever been supposed to possess of mental, moral, and political philosophy; 'And yet he bore it not about'; not 'as being loth to wear it out,'{1} but because he held that there was a time for all things, and that dinner was the time for joviality, and not for argument; Mr. Minim, the amateur composer of the music for the comedy; Mr. Pallet, the amateur painter of the scenery; and last, not least, the newly-made acquaintance, Lord Curryfin. 1 We grant, although he had much wit, H. was very shy of using it, As being loth to wear it out; And therefore bore it not about, Except on holidays or so, As men their best apparel do. Hudibras.