Attempt > Volume 1 and Select writings

G
THE ATTEMPT
Iklrgcrtt Dags.
The most complete idea of the nature of man’s earthly sojourn is that of a
pilgrim’s progress. Life is indeed a weary pilgrimage. To the ungrateful it is a
dreary wilderness of dissatisfaction, whose cloudy sky is scarce illumined by one
cheering ray; hut happier constituted minds, when tossed about by cares and diffi¬
culties, will often arrive at delightful spots of relaxation and refreshment, where they
may for a little “ rest and be thankful.” Oh, these oases in the desert ! to sit in
whose shade it were worth while to undergo all one’s share of the fagging, and tearing,
and wearing of the work-a-day world, are surely blessings that cannot enough be
appreciated; and we cannot too warmly welcome L’Allegro, when, to brighten us by
her “ fair and free ” companionship, she comes attended by mirth and youthful
jollity—
“ Quips and cranks and wanton wiles,—
Nods and becks and wreathed smiles,—
Such as hang on Hebe’s cheek,
And lore to live in dimples sleek ;
Sport that wrinkled Care derides,
And Laughter holding both his sides.”
Perhaps some one of my readers may think she has enjoyed very little of the
happiness I am talking about. What! my friend, say I, Is it possible you know
nothing of the joys of Midsummer and Christmas Holidays 1 Have you never
gone pic-nicing, fern-hunting, or boating excursions in the country, or climbed to
the top of Arthur’s Seat, and admired the beauties of Edinburgh when in town 1
Have you never seen a Christmas tree, tasted plum-pudding, or played blind-man’s
buffi If not, poor little dear! you have indeed missed considerable enjoyment; but,
unless you were an old woman in your cradle, you have known innocent happiness
as intimately as have any of Euphrosyne’s darling little cherubs of attendants. You
have been a child. Eresh from the hands of our great Creator, not undimmed, though
scarce tarnished by the common corruption, “ a heaven lies round us in our infancy; ”
and while we bask in the bright sunshine of our childhood, handling our toys and
enjoying our game at romps, innocence brightens every enjoyment, and makes life
| indeed a succession of Halcyon Days. Ah! darling childhood, thine were the happy
days.
But though as we get up the aged ladder the pleasures of childhood satisfy not,
we girls who are past childhood have our Halcyon Days still, and enjoy them too,—