CHAPTER IV.

A FRIEND FOR NIG.

"Hours of my youth! when nurtured in my breast,
To love a stranger, friendship made me blest:--
Friendship, the dear peculiar bond of youth,
When every artless bosom throbs with truth;
Untaught by worldly wisdom how to feign;
And check each impulse with prudential reign;
When all we feel our honest souls disclose--
In love to friends, in open hate to foes;
No varnished tales the lips of youth repeat,
No dear-bought knowledge purchased by deceit."
BYRON.



WITH what differing emotions have the deni-
zens of earth awaited the approach of to-day.
Some sufferer has counted the vibrations of the
pendulum impatient for its dawn, who, now that
it has arrived, is anxious for its close. The vo-
tary of pleasure, conscious of yesterday's void,
wishes for power to arrest time's haste till a few
more hours of mirth shall be enjoyed. The un-