"Indeed,” I rejoined, “and has he been long enough here for that? I never heard of him before."

"Why, as to that," he answered, "how long think ye, does it take a young fellow to get up a flirtation? And how long do you suppose it takes for the report of it to get wind?" looking at me with a quizzical kind of significance, which made me feel as if a sudden growth of nettles was springing under favorable circumstances from the entire surface of my body," and as to your not having heard of him before, why, if a young gentleman's health requires his going into the country, he mustn't expect to be posted up to the very last minute. However, he has been here about a fortnight. But much may be done in a fortnight, Master Frank, I would have you know."

I could not have reasonably denied this proposition, if I had felt disposed to be argumentative,—which I did not. I was wondering whether any rumor of my frequent visits at Woodside had reached my guardian's ears. And if so, whether he had drawn any inferences from them to the effect that I was in love with the charming Eleanor. Like most shy people I was as proud as Lucifer, and scorned the idea of being supposed sighing at any lady's feet, seriously, until it was known that she had consented to extend her royal hand to place me by her side. Of course, I was never without some princess or other, whom I served most faithfully till she was dethroned by some fresher usurper; but nobody ever regarded these transitory submissions as even looking towards a permanent allegiance. So I was resolved to take up my very last flirtation just where I had left it off, two months before, and to prosecute it with redoubled zeal by way of blinding my Argus. Whether or not it was the most effectual way, experts in the Art of Love must decide according to their own experience. But I must defer these passages of mine with Matilda Robinson, until I have more space than my share of these pages allows me. I have in contemplation the preparation of a work to be entitled "The Philosophy of Flirtation, its Origin, Uses and Tendencies: with Illustrations from the Life." Should this plan be carried into effect, the reader will there find every thing made clear which the stern necessities of this particular case compel me to leave under a cloud.

Dinner-time came, and brought Harry Markham with it. He was three or four years older than I, and therefore I was the more disposed to like him, when he showed an inclination to be friends with me.

He had taken his Bachelor's degree

at Oxford a year before with good reputation, and was therefore a personage of great dignity and high interest in my sight. I was never tired of cross-examining him as to the details of University Life and Discipline in England, and he had not been so long delivered from them as not to like to recount them. During the fortnight of my stay in town (for my week grew by degrees to that size), we were constant companions. By day we scoured the country round, in search of points of view (for he was an excellent draughtsman) and of historical interest. In the evenings we resorted to the pleasant societies still to be found even in many town-houses, although it was early in August, for the dispersion of the summer was not then as universal as it has since become or else we drew rein at some of the villas within ten miles of the city, where we were sure of a hospitable entertainment. Pleasant, cheerful, happy hours they were! And why not? It were hard, indeed, if the hours between eighteen and two-and-twenty were not pleasant, cheerful and happy, and those, too, the hours of a fine August flitting over the face of a lovely country, fit residence of as lovely inhabitants. At least, some of them.

I have forgotten to mention, what was not unimportant to the prosecution of those adventures, that I had succeeded admirably in accomplishing the object of my visit to Boston. I had mounted myself to my entire satisfaction, and in this had derived material assistance from the skill of my new friend in horseflesh. He had not wasted the whole of his time at the university over Latin and Greek. He had improved a portion of his hours in more practical pursuits,―among which might be reckoned the occasional pursuit of foxes and hares, and one result of these studies was a more than common knowledge of the noblest of the servants of man. Having thus secured what I had come down for, soon after my arrival, I thought it advisable to give my new purchase a full and fair trial before taking him to the distant solitudes of Wensley. Hence, these rides, of which I have spoken, and hence the agreeable episodes I have hinted at in the course of the last paragraph. So Whitefoot, for such was the Homeric designation we bestowed upon him from the color of his off fore-foot; Whitefoot and I formed the friendship which lasted for the rest of his life, under these pleasant circumstances and in this good company. To be sure, it took some time to satisfy all my scruples as to his sufficiency, and we had to make a good many afternoon and evening excursions, not always unaccompanied by side-sad

dles and riding-habits, before he had vindicated to himself his claim to my entire confidence. But it was erring, if erring it was, on the side of prudence and discretion-virtues, which were early developed in my character, and which I still regard as its chiefest jewels.

Per

I do not know what inference my readers may draw from this voluntary prolongation of my leave of absence. haps I ought not to have told of it. It may not be creditable to me that I was willing to exchange the society of Miss Allerton for that of any number of other beauties. I certainly saw none other so handsome; but then, you know, safety may lie in other multitudes than those of counsellors. In fact, although I do hate inconstancy as much as my Lord Byron did, and, like him, "loathe, detest the mortal made of such quicksilver clay that on his breast no permanent impression can be made," (I do not remember the quotation accurately enough to reduce it to verses); but still, even the most constant swain will, occasionally, make an excursion to gaze on other shepherdesses than his own, if it were only to glory in her supremacy over all others. And, perhaps, I may have had a lurking idea that my cousin Eleanor might value her newlyfound relative none the less, for a brief interval of absence. All this on the supposition that she was more to me than any other pretty woman, which, you are aware, I have not yet admitted. But story-readers, as well as story-tellers, are a gossiping generation and can seldom see a young man and woman in company together without putting constructions on what they say and do, which, perhaps, it had never entered into their hearts to conceive. But as my course is a perfectly straightforward one, with no traps and pitfalls set to catch the interest of the reader, it is my duty to remove out of the way all objections that arise, as they come along.

But still, as my fortnight's fast was drawing to an end, I began to feel a good wholesome appetite for Wensley again. Not only did I feel the wish growing strong within me to renew my cousinly relations at Woodside, but I longed to see the good parson once more, and the worthy Jasper, whose sable image formed, as it were, the shadow of that of his master. In my talks with Markham I told him all that I have told you about these characters in my rural drama, and he expressed a strong wish to be brought face to face with them. Of course, I was not slow in asking him to come and pay me a visit. Major Grimes's doors, both of his house and his stable, ever stood open for the welcome of man

and beast, and I could warrant him a friendly reception from all the rest. He thanked me and promised to come at some convenient season, before he left New England on his tour through the country. I was a little surprised at his not being more in a hurry when I made an accidental discovery in the course of one of our rides. We were discussing the comparative claims of two rival beauties, both of whom we had visited in the course of the afternoon. I do not remember how it came about, but I illustrated some criticism of mine by a reference to Miss Allerton, whose superiority over both the ladies in question I maintained. I averred that, charming as they both were, they had nothing so striking as the effect of Miss Allerton's upward glance, from the contrast between her dark flashing eyes and her "fairly fair" complexion and golden hair.

"It is perfectly unique," I said, "as far as my observation goes. I have seen nothing like it."

Her

"Not so remarkably so," he replied, quickly, "as her downward look. eye-lashes are perfectly preternatural!" "What!" I exclaimed, "then you have seen her! I had not an idea of that!"

"Why, yes," he answered, a good deal disconcerted, for he had evidently committed himself very much to his own vexation, "why yes. Have I never mentioned it to you before?"

"Mentioned it!" I responded, "to be sure you have not! But where did you meet her, and what do you think of her, and why have you not been up to see her?"

Why as to that," he replied, still somewhat confused, "I hardly feel myself sufficiently well acquainted with her to visit her at this distance of time and place. I met her once or twice in Devonshire, when reading there during the long vacation two years and a half ago. It was not long before they came to America, I believe."

"But did you not think her splendidly handsome?" I inquired. "You don't mean to say that you have many such women in England, do you? Was not she as uncommon there as here?"

"She was very handsome, certainly," said he, with more coolness than suited my own ideas. "But her style is not so rare in England as it is here. Yes," he continued, with an air of deliberation, “I think I may say that I have seen as handsome women as she."

I did not believe him, and put down his affirmation to the credit of his John-Bullism, which would not suffer him to admit that any thing could be better in this country than he had left at home.

Having talked over the daughter a lit

tle more, I tried to get him upon the father, and endeavored to extract from him some further particulars of his history than I had been able to gather from Mr. Bulkley. But if he knew any thing about him, he kept his own counsel, for I got nothing by my cross-examination. He lived like a gentleman, he said, with nothing observable or distinguishing about him. He had, himself, been brought into contact with him, from the circumstance of his being employed by the British Government in the dispensation of the bounties of the Crown to the families of the loyalists. He was the accredited agent through whom the friends of many of those that had suffered in the Revolution reached the beneficiaries-especially those of them who had returned to America, or settled in the provinces. He possessed the confidence of the ministers, and was eminently fitted for this business by his personal knowledge of almost all those unfortunate exiles, reaching back in many cases to the very time of the emigration. Markham's own father having belonged to this same category, he had had some intercourse with him at the agency in London, on his part, and in consequence of this had received friendly attentions from him when he came into the neighborhood of Walford Hall, on the occasion above recited. All this was natural enough, and I could not gainsay a word of it. Indeed, I believed it was all literally true; but I was by no means so sure that it was quite the whole truth. Markham, too, seemed to be entering into the conspiracy to mystify me about these people, whose affairs were, certainly, no business of mine. But, then, if people attended only to their own affairs, a stupid world we should have of it!

Nor was this the only share he had in my mystification. Not long afterwards we were just returning from a ride, and were proceeding towards the livery stable, which was connected with the Exchange Coffee House, at that time the chief hostelry that Boston boasted,just as the New York stage-coach drove up to the door of the hotel. Every body who visited Boston at that time will remember that the passage-way in front of that house of entertainment was very disproportionately small, when compared with its size and pretensions; so much so, that we were interrupted in our career by the sweeping round of the four horses, and had to pull up for a moment. that moment was sufficient. For, just before my eyes, sitting on the coach-box, was the identical interloper whom I had last seen emerging, like a water-god, from

But

the waves of the Quasheen! There could not be a doubt of it. Though I had seen him but for a moment, the circumstances of that sight sufficed to stereotype his looks upon my memory for ever. I should have known him if I had met him on the top of Mount Hecla. He looked at me from under his shaggy eyebrows (which, however, did not hinder his being a very well-looking fellow), as if he had seen me somewhere before. But I do not think he recognized me, as he probably took much less notice of me than I did of him. His scrutiny of my countenance, however, was over the moment his eyes glanced at my companion. He, evidently enough, recognized him, and derived no particular satisfaction from the recognition. He was, very clearly, not a man to be easily taken aback, and one that had a tolerable command of his countenance; but he could not control the expression of surprise and displeasure that was extorted from him by the suddenness of the encounter. Markham's face showed less equivocal marks of dislike, if not of surprise, as became his younger years and less disciplined facial muscles. He muttered an indistinct comment on the occasion which did not reach further than my ears-which being the case, and as it involved an adjective or two which might justly grieve godly ears, I shall forbear to put it upon permanent record. the coach-box niade a kind of a motion of the nature of a salutation in the direction of the brim of his hat, which Markham acknowledged by the faintest perceptible swaying of his head, and then turning away, rode on through the arch that led to the stables.

He on

"That gentleman doesn't seem to be fond of you, Markham," said I as naturally as I could, "who may he be ?"

"O, he's a countryman of mine," he replied, "that is, he is my countryman and yours too. He's a half Yankee, as well as myself. We are not over fond of one another, as you suspect."

"And his name is Smith, is it not?" I put interrogatively.

"Smith!" he answered, "what do you mean by that? Do you suppose every Englishman is named Smith ?"

Why, it is a tolerably generic name," I answered, "but I had a more specific reason for supposing it to belong to him, for I have been told so by a landlord of his."

"For God's sake, what do you mean, Osborne ?" he demanded in strong surprise," where have you ever seen him? He surely doesn't pass here by that name!"

I then stated that I had met this per

sonage, whoever he might be, in the neighborhood of Wensley, when fishing, not long before, and that I had accidentally learned from the landlord where he lodged, that he rejoiced in the general appellation I had applied to him. Of course, I made no mention of my cousin Eleanor's name in the business, and seemed to know no more of him than I have just related. Why shouldn't I have my little mystery, too? And I rather imagined that he would have given all I wanted to know in exchange for what I had to tell. But my lips were sealed, of course, as to all that had passed between them in my presence, and Markham had to spell out the mystery as deep as he could, without my assistance.

"This is very strange!" said Markham, half to himself; "what could he have been lurking about there for, under a nom de guerre!" And then addressing himself to me, he went on,“The man's name is Ferguson, and I am almost as much at a loss as you to account for his chang

ing his name without royal license. But Englishmen have a character to be odd, and, possibly, this is the form which Mr. Ferguson's oddity takes unto itself. At any rate," he went on as if talking to himself again," we will hope there are not many Englishmen like him. He's a black sheep!

He then changed the conversation; and as it was plain he wished to avoid the subject, I could get no more satisfaction from him about it. And as this was the last time we were to be together, previous to my return to Wensley, I had no further opportunity of recurring to it. At parting, however, he promised me, of his own accord, that he would certainly beat up my quarters before very long; until what time I was perforce compelled to adjourn my curiosity. We parted that night, and the next day Whitefoot carried me safely to Parson Bulkley's door, at which we were, both of us, joyfully received both by master and man.

MR.

R. PIERCE came into power with the best opportunities for doing good of any of our later Presidents. Not since Washington inaugurated the constitution, or Jefferson gave a proper democratic direction to its functions, has any chief magistrate had a fairer chance for distinguishing himself, or of imparting a new and noble impulse to the energies of the country.

The auspices of his advent to which we refer were these,-a virtual dissolution of the old parties by which former administrations have been held in check, and a general willingness of the whole people to enter upon a new, original, and generous policy. We say, "a dissolution of the old parties," because the whig party had virtually abandoned its distinctive grounds as an organized body, a fact which has since been abundantly confessed by its leading exponents,-whilst the democratic party, though it nominally adhered to an alleged scheme of doctrine, admitted the most heterogeneous elements into its canvass, and by rejecting its well-known leaders, and accepting an almost unknown candidate, deserted the strict line of principle for a make-shift.

We infer, consequently, from these facts, a disposition on the part of the electors of both parties to relinquish the issues which had, for some years, divided them, with a

view to initiate a different order of things. Nullifiers, seceders, free-soilers, barnburners, hunkers, hards, softs, and Webster and conservative whigs, all voted for the Baltimore nominee, who had been preferred to Cass, Marcy, Buchanan, and Douglass, and who was subsequently chosen over General Scott. The rigid demarcations of parties were not drawn, and there was a ready and almost universal acquiescence in the result.

The successful competitor therefore had no very embarrassing antecedents: as he had never openly solicited his position, as he had made no pledges to insure the result, as he was indebted for success, specifically, to no clique or faction, and owed no allegiance but to the great leading principles of Democracy; he entered upon his career apparently untrammelled by commitments, or secret connections, or party. debts. He was no more, nor less, when elected, than the first executive magistrate of this democratic republic, and, in the determination of his course, had no sinister influences to consult; nothing but the broadest and best suggestions of democratic truth. No man, no set of men could say to him, "You were our candidate exclusively, and we elected you, and you are thereby bound, in the distribution of your patronage, and in the shaping of

your measures, to regard solely our interests and wishes. We are your creator, or, which is the same thing, you are our puppet and tool; and we mean that you shall do as we say, or we shall charge you with recreancy, ingratitude, and the violation of contracts."

No man, nor set of men could have addressed him thus, because he was able, with the utmost propriety, to reply, "Not so: inasmuch as my election was, under the circumstances, the act of a majority, variously composed, which expects me to be the President of the nation, and not of a faction; past differences appear to have been waved, if not forgotten. My political life dates from the 2d day of November. As a young man, a comparatively new man, for whose sake the old notabilities were thrust aside, and old party issues kept in the background, I have but one obligation, and that is to Duty, under the present circumstances of the country, and according to the best lights that my mind can discover. I am clearly absolved, then, from all sinister, collateral, and restrictive ties, and must look only to the welfare of the whole people."

Admitting this to have been the case, let us ask, What were the duties of a free President of the United States; of one chosen to initiate in some sort a new era, forgetting, like St. Paul, the things that were behind, and pressing forward to the prize for the high calling of God? What policy ought he to have adopted, what measures should he have made the distinguishing objects of his administration?

The ancient topics of division, as we have said, were kept perdu, if not obliterated altogether, because the subjects themselves had been settled. The doctrines of a national bank, of a protective tariff, of internal improvements by the federal government, &c., though not completely and definitively determined upon a strict scientific basis, had yet passed out of the active discussions of the day; the people had pronounced upon them, and there was no longer need of keeping them in agitation. But new questions had arisen of immediate and pressing concern; other questions of large promise loomed in the distance; and besides the controversies actually up, or soon to advance, there was a general lurking impression, among men of all shades of opinion, that the Government, both in its domestic and foreign policy, was called upon to take a conspicuous and decided stand.

Among these questions were the following: Whether the Pacific Railroad, the most stupendous industrial enterprise of this, or any other age, was to be carried into successful operation, and by

what means? Whether, in the repleted condition of the treasury, the public lands of the United States were to be made free to all settlers, thereby proclaiming to the world, for the first time in its history, one of the most important and fundamental truths of political economy, that there is no value, in land, but only in the labor by which it is cultivated and improved? Whether the government was to be restored to the only just and democratic method of raising revenue, which is, by direct taxation? Whether that oppressive monopoly and nuisance, the Post Office establishment, was to be reformed according to the spirit of the age, brought up to the actual requirements of the business community, or abandoned altogether? Whether the vast number of executive appointments, which have given to the President a more than imperial power, which render our political controversies a mean and degraded scramble for office, and which have already undermined the integrity of the electoral body, ought not to be immediately relinquished to the people? Whether the expensive and useless system of diplomatic intercourse, now maintained for no other apparent purpose than to furnish places for the reward of partisan leaders, should not be restricted, and altered into a more effective service, and that should help to create democrats abroad instead of feeding and fostering aristocrats at home?-and, finally, Whether the young republic now advanced to the position of the first power of the world, is to make itself felt as such throughout the world, the dread of tyrants, and the hope of the oppressed in all lands,- -or whether, pursuing only a material success, aiming only at an outward splendor and prosperity, without the high, noble, and expansive spirit which is the justification and highest grace of prosperity, it shall harden into obdurate selfishness, or gradually sinking into effeminacy, welter like ano ther Dragon of Wantley, in the filth of its own corruptions?

These, we repeat, were among the questions presented to every politician and statesman, in or out of place,-to every citizen, and with which a new administration ought to grapple, if it designed to make itself a character. They are the questions of the day, and demand solution.

We shall not undertake to discuss them in detail, but we shall indicate the views which we think the nation, or its directors, are bound to adopt, by expressing a single and master truth. Every nation has a peculiar character, and a peculiar destiny, and the instincts of its people are the surest interpreters of