FROM A NEW ENGLAND HILLSIDE. 115 



joys of the past, tempered by that regret 

 which must now always endure, as I have 

 read the manuscript pages of the story of 

 the life of our Bayard, our knight without 

 fear and without reproach, Curtis, whom, 

 alas ! we shall see no more on this earth 

 forever. What joy he would have taken in 

 this day and in this spot ! There were no 

 need of Tit bottom s spectacles, and the 

 finest castles in Spain could not rank as real 

 estate at a higher value than the invisible 

 cottage outlined by cords, arid surrounded 

 by rough boarding here at my side, which 

 he would so gladly have seen complete and 

 tenanted. 



How can it be possible that any one who 

 was so fortunate as to be baptized with the 

 holy chrism of the love and confidence of 

 this sweet and tender spirit, should ever 

 thereafter do an unworthy thing or think 

 an unworthy thought ! Alas ! that it should 

 be so ! As I read, and the years of the 

 past are recalled, I again become conscious 

 of the noble presence, I feel once more the 

 touch of the gentle hand, I see the tender, 

 affectionate look in the true eye, and I hear 

 the musical voice which is now silent for- 

 evermore. Ah ! me ! it is worth having 

 lived to have had such a friend ; and how 



