UNOPENED PARCELS. i3l

“<¢Tt is perfectly orthodox,’ I cried, and quoted
the translation of an ancient hymn in which the
same expression occurs. He nodded assent, smiling,
and went on, never hesitating again, though he
stopped many times to utter admiration or better
to understand the sense, which often required care-
ful re-reading.

“ One’s brain was warm in those days,” continued
my father, “and by the time we had ended and
discussed the introductory poem, an hour had
elapsed, and we were both worked up to a high
state of mental excitement.

«Then we went on, he reading as before :

‘TI hold it truth with him who sings
To one clear harp in divers tones,
That nen may rise on stepping-stones
Of their dead selves to higher things.’

When, what was my surprise to see my friend
fling the book down, lay his arm on the table, and
bury his face upon it! I called him by name and
asked what was the matter.

“*¢ Do you believe it?’ said he.

“¢7¢? what’? cried I, for I was too much be-
wildered about him to be thinking of the book.

K 2