telligent eyes rested on the face of his neighbour.

"I doubt," answered Mr. Markland, in a voice slightly depressed from
the tone in which he had first spoken, "whether that state ever
comes in this life."

"Happiness?" inquired the other.

"Perpetual happiness; nay, even momentary happiness."

"If the former comes not to any," said Mr. Allison, "the latter, I
doubt not, is daily enjoyed by thousands."

Mr. Markland shook his head, as he replied--

"Take my case, for instance; I speak of myself, because my thought
has been turning to myself; there are few elements of happiness that
I do not possess, and yet I cannot look back to the time when I was
happy."

"I hardly expected this from you, Mr. Markland," said the neighbour;
"to my observation, you always seemed one of the most cheerful of
men."

"I never was a misanthrope; I never was positively unhappy. No, I
have been too earnest a worker. But there is no disguising from
myself the fact, now I reflect upon it, that I have known but little
true enjoyment as I moved along my way through life."

"I must be permitted to believe," replied Mr. Allison, "that you are
not reading aright your past history. I have been something of an
observer of men and things, and my experience leads me to this
conclusion."

"He who has felt the pain, Mr. Allison, bears ever after the memory
of its existence."

"And the marks, too, if the pain has been as prolonged and severe as
your words indicate."

"But such marks, in your case, are not visible. That you have not
always found the pleasure anticipated--that you have looked
restlessly away from the present, longing for some other good than
that laid by the hand of a benignant Providence at your feet, I can
well believe; for this is my own history, as well as yours: it is
the history of all mankind."

"Now you strike the true chord, Mr. Allison. Now you state the
problem I have not skill to solve. Why is this?"

"Ah! if the world had skill to solve that problem," said the
neighbour, "it would be a wiser and happier world; but only to a few
is this given."

"What is the solution? Can you declare it?"

"I fear you would not believe the answer a true one. There is
nothing in it flattering to human nature; nothing that seems to give
the weary, selfish heart a pillow to rest upon. In most cases it has
a mocking sound."

"You have taught me more than one life-lesson, Mr. Allison. Speak
freely now. I will listen patiently,