sea of song. I remember the wonder with which I used to
look from side to side when treble, tenor, counter, and bass were thus
roaring and foaming,--and it verily seemed to me as if the psalm was
going to pieces among the breakers,--and the delighted astonishment with
which I found that each particular verse did emerge whole and uninjured
from the storm.

But alas for the wonders of that old meeting house, how they are passed
away! Even the venerable building itself has been pulled down, and its
fragments scattered; yet still I retain enough of my childish feelings
to wonder whether any little boy was gratified by the possession of
those painted tulips and grape vines, which my childish eye used to
covet, and about the obtaining of which, in case the house should ever
be pulled down, I devised so many schemes during the long sermons and
services of summer days. I have visited the spot where it stood, but the
modern, fair-looking building that stands in its room bears no trace of
it; and of the various familiar faces that used to be seen inside, not
one remains. Verily, I must be growing old; and as old people are apt to
spin long stories, I check myself, and lay down my pen.

THE NEW-YEAR'S GIFT.

The sparkling ice and snow covered hill and valley--tree and bush were
glittering with diamonds--the broad, coarse rails of the fence shone
like bars of solid silver, while little fringes of icicles glittered
between each bar.

In the yard of yonder dwelling the scarlet berries of the mountain ash
shine through a transparent casing of crystal, and the sable spruces and
white pines, powdered and glittering with the frost, have assumed an icy
brilliancy. The eaves of the house, the door knocker, the pickets of the
fence, the honeysuckles and seringas, once the boast of summer, are all
alike polished, varnished, and resplendent with their winter trappings,
now gleaming in the last rays of the early sunset.

Within that large, old-fashioned dwelling might you see an ample parlor,
all whose adjustments and arrangements speak of security, warmth, and
home enjoyment; of money spent not for show, but for comfort. Thick
crimson curtains descend in heavy folds over the embrasures of the
windows, and the ample hearth and wide fireplace speak of the customs of
the good old times, ere that gloomy, unpoetic, unsocial gnome--the
air-tight--had monopolized the place of the blazing fireside.

No dark air-tight, however, filled ou