Page:The open Polar Sea- a narrative of a voyage of discovery towards the North pole, in the schooner "United States" (IA openpolarseanarr1867haye).pdf/247

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hour of the darkness grows a little longer, and soaks a little more color from the blood, and takes a little more from the elasticity of the step, and adds a little more to the lengthening face, and checks little by little the cheerful laugh and the merry jest that come from the hold and cabin; and, without being willing to confess it openly, yet we are all forced to acknowledge to ourselves that the enemy does now and then get the better of us, and that we have often to renew the resolution. The novelty of our life is exhausted, and the outside world has nothing new. The moonlight comes and goes again, and the night glistens clear and cold over the white landscape; and the memory returns unbidden to other days that are fled and gone; and we miss in the sparkling air and the still hour of the winter night the jingling bells, and the sleigh which will always hold one more, and the wayside inn, and the smoking supper that "mine host" serves up, and the crackling blaze of country logs; and then, when we forget the moon, and the snow, and the frost, and recall the summer and the sunshine, we remember that "the seat in the shade of the hawthorn bush" is far away.

December 24th.

Christmas Eve! What happy memories are recalled by the mention of that name! How much of youthful promise it brings back to the weary mind and to the aching heart! How potent is the charm, how magical the influence! A beam of light has fallen within this little ice-bound vessel, and from the promised morn we catch the same inspiration that has come to all mankind since "that bright and lovely star" first rose to the shepherds of Judea; for wher