we would reject it; if it assumed not the 'pomp and circumstance' of
royalty, though it worked miracles, we would cry, _Away with it_.
Eighteen hundred years have not completely transformed or transmuted the
world; we are yet ready to reject the true, and be humbugged by the
false. More than eighteen hundred and sixty-two years may yet elapse
before the bells that 'ring out the old and ring in the new,' will 'ring
out the false and ring in the true.' Then farewell humbug.

Yes, it is altogether probable that long before humbug is no more, you
and I will--I was about to say be in the narrow house, but prefer an
expression of Carlyle's--we will have 'vanished into infinite space.' I
prefer this for the same reason that one of Hood's characters was
thankful that 'Heaven was boundless.' She it was whom the physician
pronounced 'dying by inches.' 'Only think,' exclaimed the _consternated_
husband, 'how long she will be dying!' I suppose to the poor man Grim
Death appeared to hold in his skeleton fingers, instead of an
hour-glass, a twenty-year glass.

That the sands of his glass may, for you, married or single, neither run
too fast nor too slow, is sincerely the wish of

Your well-wisher,

MOLLY O'MOLLY.

* * * * *

ALL TOGETHER.