ery well, uncle; I feel quite tempted to fail, to inveigle you into a
sensible termination to a foolish story. We often invent tales in the
interval at school, and I'll give you one that my schoolmates like. It
is called

The Rose of Hesperus;

A FAIRY TALE.

Every one has heard of the Garden of Hesperus, famous in all ancient
times for its exquisite beauty. Its golden fruit, more precious by far
than the fleece of Jason, in search of which heroes perilled their lives
on board the good ship Argo, was watched by a terrible dragon, whose
eyes were never sealed by slumber. A hundred heads belonged to the
monster, a hundred flames of fire issued from his numerous throats, and
a hundred voices resounded threats against the audacious being who
should invade his province. Hercules alone, of all the children of men,
was able to overcome him: but although he then expired, the next rising
sun again beheld him full of life and vigor. The dragons of earth are
never annihilated. Each generation has the same work to perform, has its
monsters to conquer; and this it is that makes the noble heroes whom we
all delight to praise.

So small was the number of mortals ever favored with a sight of this
earthly paradise, that it is not surprising its site is now unknown.
Even among the ancients, it was a matter of speculation and mystery. The
majority placed it in the north of Africa; and it is not improbable that
travellers who for the first time beheld them, mistook for the Gardens
of Hesperus the oases of the desert, those gems of nature which are all
the more brilliant for being set in sand and clay. Others again asserted
that this region of delight was to be sought beyond the western main,
in a lone isle if the ocean. But all agreed that it was at the west,
towards the sunset, that this treasure of earth was to be found: and
thence it was that the name of Hesperus was bestowed upon it. Strange it
is, that mankind has ever followed the sun in its path; and that while
human life, religious truth, and science all point to the East as their
source, they hasten westward for the fulfillment of their destiny. The
East belongs to the Past--it is the land of memory: the West to the
Future--it is the land of hope: and there it is that man seeks his
happiness. It is in the yet unrevealed--in the mysterious West that the
golden fruits and the perennial flowers bloom for him: not in Oriental
climes, where, in his infancy, the Garden of Eden she