of temper, her affectionate, ingenuous, and playful disposition. Rarely had Nature blended in one person so many admirable qualities. She was only in the beginning of girlhood, with every promise of a perfect maturity.

"And, Rosa," said I, after prefaces artfully contrived to lull suspicion, and to draw from a girl the secret of her love, -" who, dear little Rosa, is the best dancer in the room?"

"You surely must know that," said Rosa.

"My dear little Rosa, no man on earth is more ignorant of such subjects. At the Opera, when I hear one dancer spoken of with ecstasy, and another with equally fervent dislike, I look at both, and can discover no difference."

"But here," said Rosa, "the difference is so plain;" and poor little Rosa spoke with an approach to a sigh, that showed that her heart trembled on her tongue.

"And who, Rosa, is the best dancer? for I am still in ignorance." "Captain Bruen, to be sure; is is impossible not to perceive that," said she, with an energy I had never before witnessed in her.

I cast my eyes on Captain Bruen, who was then going through a quadrille.

Never was there a finer specimen of the militaire. Captain Bruen was the beau idéal of a soldier. He was six feet two without his shoes; but, though his shoulders and limbs were the most admirable I had ever witnessed for a charge against Napoleon's cuirassiers, they were but little adapted to a drawing-room, still less to a quadrille. He beat the ground with stamps so furious that a modern floor might have quaked under his exertions, and seemed as if inspired by reminiscences of riding rough-shod over the enemy.

Rosa, thought I, is not quite so innocent as I imagined. She is slyly directing my attention from her Mr. Doveways; but it would be odd if a man of my penetration were not a match for a girl of

seventeen.

After a little chat, artfully managed on my part, I said, "Dear Rosa, I would be your lover, but for two causes."

"What causes?" said the sensitive and tremulous Rosa. "I am too old, and too poor."

"The last is no objection to a generous heart or disinterested mind."

"Ah, Rosa, but your silence on the first point is the most cruel of expressions. My poverty, as I get older, I shall get rid of by the death of my relations; but my former sin must grow with my growth, and strengthen with my years. But come, tell me, Rosa, who is the finest and handsomest man in the room?"

"The finest and handsomest man," said the simple unsuspecting girl, " is unquestionably Captain Bruen."

"If immense stature, and a robust frame, -if powerful limbs constitute the finest man, Captain Bruen is unquestionably-"

"But he is so handsome!" said Rosa.

I looked at Captain Bruen, and, as far as a profusion of coal-black curls over his forehead-as far as immense whiskers, huge tufts of hair under his chin, and over his eyes and upper lip, would allow one to get a peep at his face, I was enabled to come to a conclusion that nature, in so handsomely endowing his person, had balanced the account in the formation of his face. He was a hard-featured man, and his countenance advertised that he had seen much service in climates not favourable to beauty. Captain Bruen was dancing vigorously with a fat lady of forty, who scarcely reached his hip; and whilst the lady's sympathy of exertion made her fat cheeks of the colour of an autumnal gooseberry, the stalwart Captain's face was as dry as parchment.

"But who is the most elegant man ?" said I to the lovely rose-bud Rosa, determined to discover the secret. Rosa coloured, seemed distressed, and made no reply. "Mr. Doveways, Rosa?" said I archly.

"Pshaw!" said the lovely girl, with almost rudeness.

"Oh, oh," said I to myself; "is the girlish simple Rosa already so cunning ?"

The quadrille had ended, and another was to be arranged.

"Rosa, will you dance?" I asked, with a determination to procure Mr. Doveways for her partner.

"No-yes-I don't know I can't say now---perhaps I may-not this dance; perhaps I may the next," said little Rosa, her cheeks changing colour, and her beautiful eyes and lips varying in expression at every no and yes

"But beautiful little Rosa, the no or yes depends on the partner, and I can"

"Oh, I will dance," said Rosa, in a voice too tremulous to be understood; but her emotion spoke her meaning.

"Rosa, you must positively dance," said Lady Railtravers, as I left Rosa to procure for her the partner of her choice, and the future partner of her life.

"My dear mamma, pray leave me alone; I don't think I can dance the next two. I am not well." And Rosa looked at me as if her whole soul depended on my success.

"You will dance, of course," said Sir George to Lady Macedonia Grizzle, who had been eyeing the juvenile dandy Doveways with as much passion as he had been exhibiting towards the lovely Rosa. "Lady Macedonia, you will of course dance?"

"Faith, I dinna ken; but sence you are so very poleete, I have na muckle objiction to dance the twa next kadreeles."

"You will dance?" said I to Mr. Doveways, and Mr. Doveways' cheeks coloured like fire.

"Yes," said Mr. Doveways, his eyes beaming with delight at Rosa. All might have been happy, Rosa might have danced with Mr. Doveways, but Lady Macedonia marred all my arrangements. The high stalwart figure of this lady of fifty, her broad shoulders and projecting wing-like shoulder blades, with hands, ankles, elbows, and cheek-bones to match, did credit to the aboriginal breed of her native mountains.

"Faith, and I will dance the twa," said Lady Macedonia. Never was man so put to a non plus. When Sir George asked Lady Macedonia, he had conceived that it was as absurd as asking the Monument to dance. But here was a dilemma; a partner must be found; and Lady Macedonia soon cut the gordian knot. Taking Sir George by the hand, and leading him as a victim up to Mr. Doveways, adroitly giving to the company the appearance that she was the lady introduced, she addressed poor Doveways, and said,

My freend, Sir Geordie, is unco poleete in intraducing ye to me; and faith, Mr. Doveways, I will e'en dance with ye, accarding to your deseeres, for I have long wushed to form your acquaintance; and, as an old Scotch proverb says, 'The maire ye ken, the maire ye leeke.'"

Poor Doveways cast a look of wretchedness at Rosa, and bowing profoundly, handed Lady Macedonia to the quadrille, muttering something like "I am very happy." Rosa curtesied pensively as her mother presented to her Sir Larry. Never did a quadrille go off worse. Matilda was enraged at her younger sister's carrying off her beau, and her anger was not decreased by her having to dance with a little elderly foreign Count, who wore powder, and sported a pigtail. Lady Macedonia danced with great prowess at Mr. Dove. ways, who seemed rather to dance from than with her. Poor Rosa moved with submissive apathy, whilst Sir Larry's round cheeks were flushed with satisfaction. Lady Railtravers watched the scene with delight, and whispered to Sir George, that if Sir Larry did not take with Matilda, he was a capital catch for Rosa. The only two dancers that were completely happy were Captain Bruen and his corpulent beauty; for, in spite of etiquette, these two would dance together in this, as they had done in the preceding quadrilles. I enjoyed Lady Railtravers' illusion; for I knew that Mr. Doveways would be a far better match for her daughter Rosa than the other.

Never did a match party produce greater disasters. In three weeks Captain Bruen went off with his fat partner; it was entirely a love-match on both sides. Sir Larry, by the advice of a friend, read all the fashionable novels, that he might learn to make love, but in vain; for, in spite of the efforts of both father and mother, Rosa could not bring herself to listen to his addresses. My friend Dove. ways made Rosa an offer;-never shall I forget my surprise when he showed me her delicate, mild, but firm REFUSAL! Doveways took the disappointment keenly to heart, and went off to Florence. To Florence after him flew Lady Macedonia Grizzle, on account of her health. Sir George and Lady Railtravers repaired to Boulogne.

Poor Rosa, the most beautiful in form and face, the most graceful in manners, the most artless and innocent, the most frank and affectionate, never lived to realise her mother's anticipations. I think I now see her timid varying countenance, and hear the playfulness of her voice, giving charm to her delicacy and young sensations at life opening to her in prospect. Rosa was disappointed in her love, and died early of consumption.

"Never again," said I, "will I pique myself upon my penetration: for never did it strike me that poor Rosa was deeply, fatally in love with Captain Bruen!!!"

EARLY FRIENDSHIP;

OR, THE SLAVE OF PASSION.

HENRY FORTESCUE has been some years numbered with the dead, or the following impressive narrative would not yet have seen the light. Nor would I give it now, were one being in existence who could recognise with any painful sensation the facts I shall record. Facts they are, clothed only in the garb of fiction so far as relates to actual names and situations. There is always something in the language of truth which carries with it its own certificate; and the story itself, which has dwelt, unimparted, on my mind for many and many a year, will, now that I can safely and honestly divulge it, ease my recollection of a load which, from accumulated burthens of my own, I have felt a hundred times a disposition to shake off. But the integrity of even boyish confidence I believe is seldom broken. For my own part, I would not for the wealth of worlds abuse a secret reposed in me in the unsuspecting days of youth, any more than I would the apparently more important communications of matured age. In fact, we might generally risk the latter rather than the former; for it is observable that the secrets confided in middle and advanced age are seldom of a nature which compromise character, or, if imparted, such as would endanger respectability. We grow cautious, if we do not grow wise, as we grow old; though even caution must be considered as one of the humbler attributes of wisdom.

There

Henry Fortescue was my schoolfellow, and my earliest friend. He protected me from the tyranny of bigger boys because I was weakly, and seemed to love me the better for having protected me. have been worse causes than this for devotion on the part of a youngster in after-life towards a young man in many respects his superior. He finished his school education many years before myself; but he never forgot his early protégé. We did not, however, meet again until he was in his twenty third year, and he was my senior by about six years. Accidental associations at this time brought us into frequent collision, and adventitious circumstances had rendered us mutually serviceable to each other. The dissimilarity of our ages, particularly felt at the period of life to which I allude, made me regard Henry Fortescue for some time as a superior; and in many respects he was really so. His manners were highly attractive, his person unusually handsome, his education finished, and his birth just above the middle rank of society. With such advantages, it can be no matter of surprise that a lad in all these respects beneath him should be flattered by his notice, and attached by his regard; and, whatever might be his genuine feelings towards me, who had little more than high spirits and good nature to recommend me, his early kindness and subsequent notice bound me to him with a sort of romantic affection, which would have induced me cheerfully to risk my life in his service or defence.

Young persons, at the age I have described myself to be at the period I refer to, are rarely indeed remarkable for examining very minutely into the real characters of their chosen, or rather accidental, associates and friendships. I did not examine at all. I was first attached by kindness, and afterwards somewhat dazzled by the acquirements of my friend, and altogether flattered by his confidence. To the common eye, the coarsest iron may be so polished as to resemble steel; the basest copper may be so washed as to pass current for gold. Experience, too often dearly bought, teaches us to look beneath the surface, and to separate the ore from the refined metal; but those who look for, or expect to find, the discernment of experience in youth, prove only their own inexperience. The young, amongst many engaging qualities, of which this open confidence, this very want of circumspection, is assuredly prominent, -the young, I say, see no spots on the sun's disc; while the philosopher, with his smoked glass, not only sees, but counts and describes them. It would indeed be to dash with bitterness the cup of youth, could the pene. tration and foresight of age be at once conveyed to their understandings, when all the glowing fancies, the warm anticipations, and buoyant hopes of their vital spring were bracing with joyous elasticity their highly-wrought imaginations. It were cruel kindness, were it possible, to instil this precocious wisdom, and worse than cruel to debar that precious period of life of its natural and best delights.

The weaknesses, the frivolities, the errors of the young, are there. fore justly regarded with a lenient eye. The offspring of the monarch of the woods must be a whelp before he can become a lion; and the mind of man must "grow with his growth, and strengthen with his strength," through many a slow gradation, before it can arrive at that stage of advancement when reason is to become the guide of judgment, and judgment the master of passion.

Henry Fortescue had just sufficient fortune, derived from the bequest of a near relation, to enable him to mix in good society, and to preserve a straitened independence. His parents had wished him to follow one of the learned professions; and after some years had been lost in hesitation rather than in deliberation, he discovered that it was too late to commence the necessary studies; and having some considerable expectations hereafter from a rich maiden aunt, who had always shown great affection towards him, he soon determined to adopt the indolent plan which his inclination suggested, and to continue to live on the adequate, but still slender means, I have before described.

With that sort of desultory education, which enables a young man of good address and agreeable manners to pass muster in the world, he now considered that his acquirements were all-sufficient for the purposes of a private gentleman, and soon gave himself up to that fatiguing "idleness," which consists in a round of dissipation, and which has been emphatically and most truly considered "the root of all evil."

Henry Fortescue had no ambition, and as little foresight. He laughed at the suggestion of marriage, which he denominated a state of servitude and thraldom if maintained in purity, and as one of abandoned infamy if violated in its avowed and sworn integrity.

In these acknowledged feelings there was too much of unquestionable truth to excite any sentiments beyond those of pity in some sedate minds, and of applause in many honest ones; and had his opinions been founded on firmer ground than his imagination, and proved consistent in the end, he might have passed onward to age with the character of a respectable old bachelor, and died perhaps in the arms of some affectionate niece, who might have long anxiously watched his declining health, while calculating the precise amount of the promised