The Southern Literary Messenger, Vol. I., No. 1, August, 1834Various
General
The Southern Literary Messenger, Vol. I., No. 1, August, 1834
Various
American literature -- 19th century -- Periodicals
One day they chanced to meet, and Memory reproached Hope with being a
deceiver. She charged him with deluding mankind with visionary,
impracticable schemes, and exciting expectations that only led to
disappointment and regret; with being the _ignis fatuus_ of youth, and
the scourge of old age. But Hope cast back upon her the charge of
deceit, and maintained that the pictures of the past were as much
exaggerated by Memory, as were the anticipations of Hope. He declared
that she looked at objects at a great distance in the past, he in the
future, and that this distance magnified every thing. "Let us make the
circuit of the world," said he, "and try the experiment." Memory
consented, reluctantly, and they went their way together.
The first person they met was a schoolboy, lounging lazily along, and
stopping every moment to gaze around, as if unwilling to proceed on his
way. By and by he sat down and burst into tears.
"Whither so _fast_, my good lad?" asked Hope, jeeringly.
"I am going to school," replied the lad, "to study, when I had rather a
thousand times be at play; and sit on a bench with a book in my hand
while I long to be sporting in the fields. But never mind, I shall be a
man soon, and then I shall be free as the air." Saying this, he skipped
away merrily, in the hope of soon being a man.
"It is thus you play upon the inexperience of youth," said Memory,
reproachfully.
Passing onward, they met a beautiful girl, pacing slow and melancholy
behind a party of gay young men and maidens, who walked arm in arm with
each other, and were flirting and exchanging all those little harmless
courtesies, which nature prompts on such occasions. They were all gaily
dressed in silks and ribbons; but the little girl had on a simple
frock, a homely apron, and clumsy thick-soled shoes.
"Why don't you join yonder group," asked Hope, "and partake in their
gaiety, my pretty little girl?"
"Alas!" replied she, "they take no notice of me. They call me a child.
But I shall soon be a woman, and then I shall be so happy!" Inspired by
this hope, she quickened her pace, and soon was seen dancing along
merrily with the rest.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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