new.

He started then, like one awaking from a dream, when having been summoned to the private office, there was laid before him in a very short speech, but quite to the purpose-a double salary, twelve months' absence from England, and the hope of something better on his return.

"Had you anything better in view for yourself, Mr. Hardy, with which our proposal interferes?" asked one of the partners, who watching him attentively, saw the quick surprise expressed on his countenance at this offer, which tallied so ill with his desponding reflections.

Benjamin was all himself again. Reverie, cogitation, melancholy, were gone, he answered promptly, "I had not, sir-but I have for some time been thinking seriously, that I ought to set about discovering a means of bettering my condition, of putting myself forward in life."

Aye, aye!" said another of the partners-one who had been a sea-captain,

"Aye, aye!-all right my lad! so this comes in the nick of time-the vessel sails in three days-you can be ready, I am sure?"

"I can be ready, sir-but gentlemen, I must have two hundred pounds for the year." Perhaps they expected such a demand. At all events, they were not displeased at it, well-knowing that one who understood how to attend to his own interest would best understand how to attend to theirs, so they did not give utterance to anything ungracious. All was settled satisfactorily; he was to commence his preparations at once, and on the following evening to be at the residence of the sea-captain partner, to receive further instructions.

It is unnecessary to tell the number of cotton shirts that Hardy bought, and how many etceteras he added unto them. It will readily be imagined that his oufit was not first-rate. It was sufficient only for one whose humble, country life had prevented

him from discovering at an early period how many superfluities are absolutely indispensable to man. He made then, a very modest selection of articles for his own wants, and late in the evening returned to his lodgings.

His first study there was to inform his landlady that he was going abroad in a very few days. He said this with a sort of pride, for he was full of exultation in the new hopes awakened in his bosom. He was however a great favourite with his landlady, so she sighed when she left him, and said, “Eh, poor young man!" Then she put a card in her window with "Apartments" on it-and shaking her head, when that was done, she felt like one who recited an elegy and engraved an epitaph.

Hardy in the meantime despatched his tea. Then he drew forward from its place behind the door of his bedroom his legacy, Ned's sea-chest, and, taking off his coat, he knelt down to dislodge what remained of his poor brother's wardrobe, and to commence

packing his own. Again a gush of the old, true tenderness of nature filled his heart to overflowing, but he would not give it way at his eyes; he cleared his throat and began to whistle. Again the little secrets of Ned's heart came before him in those letters of illspelt, passionate love, which he had at first put away unread. But he read them afterwards and smiled at them; now he glanced at a sentence declaring unutterable affection through life and death. This caused him to wonder whether Miss Aveley could ever be led to make such protestations to any man; then he thought that if he came back from the West Indies very rich, he should certainly go immediately to see her.

These reflections did not interrupt his proceedings, they only put an end to his whistling; and they were followed by many more whilst he laid in the bottom of his chest the solid foundation of his packing for the voyage. At length he began to make mistakes. Stopping short he rested his elbows

on the edge of the chest and communed with himself.

No! there was nothing better in the whole circle of his philosophy than the determination with which he set out from his uncle'sthe determination to make a fortune-to be great-to be not what he was.

His late sudden conviction that he was not making way towards the fulfilment of his determination, and a suspicion that the matter was not so entirely in his own hands as he had believed it to be, had acted like an unexpected stroke of affliction in producing a change of mind. All exclaim, "Vain pomp and glory of the world, I hate you," when the pomp and glory are lost after having been enjoyed. But Hardy was on the point of so exclaiming without having known what they are. He did not, however, make the exclamation; and now, on a careful examination of his mind, he was certain that it would have been a foolish thing to have made it.

He began to whistle again. He became