Excerpt from Two Years Ago, Vol. 1

It may seem a somewhat Irish method of beginning the story of Two Years Ago by a scene which happened but a month since. And yet, will not the story be on that very account a better type of many a mans own experiences? How few of us had learnt the meaning of "Two years ago" until this late quiet autumn time; and till Christmas, too, with its gaps in the old ring of friendly faces, never to be filled up again on earth, began to teach us somewhat of its lesson.

Two years ago, while pestilence was hovering over us and ours, while the battle-roar was ringing in our ears, who had time to think, to ask what all that meant; to seek for the deep lesson which we knew must lie beneath? Two years ago was the time for work: for men to do with all their might whatsoever their hands found to do. But now the storm has lulled once more; the air has cleared awhile, and we can talk calmly over all the wonders of that sudden, strange, and sad "Two years ago."

So felt, at least, two friends who went down, just one week before Christmas Day, to Whitbury in Berkshire.

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