hat, he could see
nothing better.

You must not infer from all this that friend Theophilus is a social wet
blanket, a goblin shadow at the domestic hearth. By no means. Nature has
gifted him with that vein of humor and that impulse to friendly
joviality which are frequent developments in sad-natured men, and often
deceive superficial observers as to their real character. He who laughs
well and makes you laugh is often called a man of cheerful disposition;
yet in many cases nothing can be farther from it than precisely this
kind of person.

Theophilus frequents our chimney-corner, perhaps because Mrs. Crowfield
and myself are, so to speak, children of the light and the day. My wife
has precisely the opposite talent to that of our friend. She can
discover the good point, the sound spot, where others see only defect
and corruption. I myself am somewhat sanguine, and prone rather to
expect good than evil, and with a vast stock of faith in the excellent
things that may turn up in the future. The Millennium is one of the
prime articles of my creed; and all the ups and downs of society I
regard only as so many jolts on a very rough road that is taking the
world on, through many upsets and disasters, to that final consummation.

Theophilus holds the same belief, theoretically; but it is apt to sink
so far out of sight in the mire of present disaster as to be of very
little comfort to him.

"Yes," he said, "we are going to ruin, in my view, about as fast as we
can go. Miss Jennie, I will trouble you for another small lump of sugar
in my tea."

"You have been saying that, about our going to ruin, every time you have
taken tea here for four years past," said Jennie; "but I always noticed
that your fears never spoiled your relish either for tea or muffins.
People talk about being on the brink of a volcano, and the country going
to destruction, and all that, just as they put pepper on their potatoes:
it is an agreeable stimulant in conversation,--that's all."

"For my part," said my wife, "I can speak in another vein. When had we
ever in all our history so _bright_ prospects, so much to be thankful
for? Slavery is abolished; the last stain of disgrace is wiped from our
national honor. We stand now before the world self-consistent with our
principles. We have come out of one of the severest struggles that ever
tried a nation, purer and stronger in morals and religion, as well as
more prosperous in material things."

"My dear