FROM A NEW ENGLAND HILLSIDE. 267 



or like one sinking in a quicksand, whose 

 struggles carry him deeper and deeper, our 

 efforts to escape are worse than vain. Ever 

 present with us is the vision of those who 

 long ago slipped beyond the curtain which 

 shrouds the vast unknown. We see them 

 as they were ; they said to us but ff Muf 

 SSkDerjefjen,&quot; and now, the river that parts 

 us, once but a tiny thread, has grown so 

 wide, so wide ! How easy for some, is the 

 way which for others is marked &quot;No 

 thoroughfare ! &quot; AVith an assured confi 

 dence, born, shall we say ? of lack of reflec 

 tion, they drop the pulseless hand, believing 

 that next week, next year, a generation 

 hence, they will grasp it again and take up 

 life in unchanged relations. Happy dream 

 ers ! Did it ever occur to you to try to realize 

 how the young mother who leaves her child 

 a prattling babe, and meets him again in 

 some other sphere, a hoary-headed nonage 

 narian, with his sons and his daughters, 

 his grandchildren and great-grandchildren 

 about him, shall orient herself, and take up 

 the old relation ? Ah ! my friends, I fear 

 that in that other land, that &quot; undiscovered 

 country from whose bourne no traveller 

 returns,&quot; either idealism reigns, and each 

 will dwell in a fully equipped world of his 



