fancy, he pressed my arm; at last I replied "Yes, I have seen, or fancied I have seen, one who, if he loved me, would make me always happy."

"Another time," answered he, "you must tell me who he is; for you know, as an old friend, I must be allowed to advise you on your choice; for, remember, how very inexperienced you are."

It is not in the power of words to express my chagrin at this speech. All my hopes were then fallacious; he did not understand me one whit more, or rather he would not, for I could not believe that I could feel so much, and entirely conceal my emotion. What could be the reason of his strange indifference; his insensibility? Did he never mean to marry? Was he too old for me in his own opinion,-what could it be? I was sure he liked me; for of all the young ladies he met, I alone was distinguished by his attentions. Perhaps, thought I, he is waiting to see more of me, to form a better judgment of my character before he positively proposes, or, perhaps, as he is much older than I am, he thinks I look on him as a kind of papa.

These thoughts chased each other through my mind as I returned home. I could not sleep, I lay and puzzled what might be the solution of this enigma. The end of my cogitation was, that as far as I could I would endeavour to open his eyes as to the real object of my preference; and with this resolution, so worthy of the inexperience of eighteen, I fell asleep, and dreamt that I saw him on his knees before another lady, to whom he swore endless vows of love and devotion; that in the middle of the tenderest scene I rushed in, and gave the said lady a severe box on the ear. The echo of the supposed blow awoke me, and I found my little maid opening the shutters, for it was already late.

The opportunity I sought was soon afforded me—or rather I seized on the first occasion of putting my resolve into execution. Some days after the ball, I was spending some hours at his mother's house, where I often went in the hopes of seeing him, but as he was seldom at home, it was only after an unusual absence that I ventured to inquire where he was. Here I was ever a welcome guest, for, as I have said, his father, by a variety of jokes and inuendos, more remarkable for drollery than delicacy, plainly gave me to understand he should prefer me for a daughter-in-law.

But Frederick was, I knew, little guided by the opinions of this clever but eccentric gentleman; it was his mother, a woman with a masculine understanding, that swayed him, and she had never hinted at such a possibility. I knew she thought me too young and too inexperienced to know my own mind on any subject an opinion I constantly but unsuccessfully combated. To her the idea of a young girl, only just come to town, selecting a husband already, would be, I knew, preposterous; and although secure of the personal friendship, I very much doubted whether she was not the real cause of her son's reserve and silence. But this is a mystery that never was cleared up, and puzzles me yet when I think of it.

I had taken off my bonnet, and was sitting in the drawing-room

alone, arranging some flowers just arrived from their magnificent country-seat, and was revelling in the perfumed pile of various blossoms lying before me, when suddenly the door opened, and he appeared. I started, he looked surprised.

"I was not aware," said he, " that you were here."

I could scarcely speak; I had been earnestly thinking about him before he entered, and speculating if ever those walls would look down on me as his wife, and I felt altogether so depressed I could not conceal it.

"What beautiful flowers," said he, advancing towards me as I sat at the table.

"Very," replied I, "I love flowers they have indeed a language and are the simplest and the sweetest offerings to those we love. Even to the dead flowers are offered, how much more then to the living?"

I hardly knew what I was saying, but involuntarily I formed a little bunch of the most delicate and sweetest blossoms. There were rosebuds, heliotrope, and the pencil-leaved geranium. When I had held it a moment, I rose, and advancing, without daring to look him in the face, I placed the flowers in his hand, and then rushed out of the room. In an instant I heard him rapidly following me, not in his usual quiet manner, but with quick and hurried steps, that echoed rapidly along the corridor. But by this time I was frightened at my own boldness, and at the idea of meeting him after what I had done; fool-double fool that I was; just as he appeared I charged up-stairs at a pace that defied pursuit. He followed me to the first floor, and then called after me by my name-my Christian name, too-by which he rarely addressed me. But, completing my folly in flying from what I most desired, I sat palpitating and almost weeping in one of the empty bed-rooms, and would not move. How in after years have I repented this conduct! how have I longed to recall those few short moments, once passed, for ever vanished without recall! for his was not a character to trifle with.

Had we met then, he would have spoken, I feel, I know he would, for that he liked me, I was certain. The reserve that separated us was at this moment withdrawn, and he would have told me he prized the little foolish heart which long had been his own. I could then have freely told the deep, the earnest love, esteem and respect that, as long as I can remember, I had felt towards him, feelings now ripened into an attachment, that rendered me capable of willingly sacrificing every taste, every pursuit, every inclination, to win his heart. Ill was it for us both, that the moment passed profitless away. He never could be loved as I loved him, and I should have been spared years of suffering and misfortune, that the future, big with sorrow and with suffering, had

in store.

But I would not leave my retreat. He called in vain. His voice echoed among the long passages and through the lofty halls. No reply came; and I heard his slowly-retreating steps descending the stairs to the entrance. Then the door opened and closed!

and I watched him across the square. "Next time we meet," thought I, "he will speak; then he will propose, and I shall be more prepared than I am now." I was mistaken. His feelings were hurt. He thought I had been trifling with him. Not easily making up his mind, he had been as it were betrayed into an unintentional demonstration, but, once restored to reflection, the same motive that had before influenced him to keep silent, again prevailed.

At the time I did not suspect this, or I think I should have put on my bonnet and run after him wherever he had gone; I should have implored him once more to call-once more to follow me, and that I would answer-that I would rush to him with joy inexpressible. But the happy moment was fled. The next day his mother called, and casually mentioned that Frederick had left town for the Continent, and that whether he stayed for weeks or many months was uncertain. At this intelligence my heart sunk within me; I now perceived my own folly, and, though still hoping, I was inexpressibly chagrined. London had lost more than half its charms with his departure, and had it not been for the bustle and preparation consequent on my approaching presentation, I should have petitioned to have returned home. But I solaced myself with anticipation of his speedy return, and, buoyed up by this expectation, patiently endured what I deemed only the temporary delay of my hopes.

A Drawing-room was at length fixed, and I was to make my début-one of the most noticeable events, next indeed in importance to marriage only, in a young lady's career.

I was now thrown much into the society of the noble family before mentioned, as all arrangements were presided over by Lady Dherself, whom we were to accompany to Court. Of course she was anxious that a young lady whom she honoured by wishing to make the wife of her interesting son, should make an appearance before the world, suitable to his rank and position-so finding myself fairly in the hands of the Philistines, and in utter despair of doing justice to the expectations formed of me-I quietly and unquestionably submitted to all desired of me. advantage arose from this supposed engagement between Lord

and myself, and that was it gave a certain éclat to my introduction; for being almost domesticated with Lady D, and generally supposed to be on the point of becoming her daughterin-law, already gave me a certain consideration.

But when I saw Lord more artificial and monkey-like than ever, and then thought of Frederick, and compared the manly dignity and reserve of the one, with the affected empty-headed pretension of the other, however advantageous such an alliance might be in a worldly point of view, I felt the sacrifice was beyond my powers. My heart loudly asserted its claims, and I discovered that the possession of exalted rank would not now constitute my happiness.

But the presentation-what shoppings! what long mornings passed with modistes, preceded the auspicious event! Why

we have been out with Lady D, and passed four hours in a single shop, turning over silks, embroidered dresses, flowers and ribbons, until my head quite reeled, and I felt perfectly stupified. The noble lady who was not remarkable for mental resources, delighted in this mode of passing her mornings, and was glad of any feasible excuse for driving from shop to shop, and receiving deputations of French shoemakers and milliners. When I sat and yawned in sheer despair, she was still as fresh as a larklaunching forth into endless discourses as to the texture or colour of the goods displayed before her. Lady M too, who also accompanied us on these dreary pilgrimages, took a lively interest in the whole, and longed for every dress she saw-expressing her disgust at what she called her mother's stinginess, in whispers to me, of quite pathetic complaint.

A FUTURE FOR TURKEY.

BY LIEUT. THE HON. FREDERICK WALPOLE, R.N.

Ir is impossible to doubt the result of the approaching contest; a fleet such as the world never saw is on its way to conquer and blockade in the North; an overpowering squadron holds the Euxine; and the armies of the West are hastening to the field, already well disputed by the Turks against our common foe; checked in front on the Danube, menaced in flank from the Crimea, forced in the rear from Anapa,-Russia must succumb, and leaving others to pay for the war, will return within her frontiers foiled and baffled for a time.

And then

Is Turkey to return to her former state? Even were this possible, it would hardly be desirable. Is she again to be the weak, venal, powerless, soulless body she was before? Surely such a result would scarce be worthy of the cost.

But, bankrupt, disordered, dissolved, this cannot be.

Her fanaticism aroused, her Moslem population excited, withdraw the foe from without, her troops tear and rend her within, and the courage, now valuable on the frontier, would be expended on the peaceful Christians of her provinces.

The good of years has been undone, and the Fellah, settling to his peaceful toil, has caught the war-cry of his race; he is no more the citizen, but again the wild, fierce, nomad Asiatic; his household ties dissolved, he is the child of fortune, determined on plunder, impatient of peace and quiet. He cannot return to his home-he cannot subside to what he was,-his spirit aroused, his fanaticism excited, if victory is given to Islam, God save the Christians of the Empire!

"They were the cause of the quarrel; they are the foes we have

defeated, the enemies of our faith, the accursed of the Prophet; ready to our hand; our duty calls us to take what our wishes desire to have. Who will resist us conquerors?- Deenahoom, Maalahoom, Ardahoom, taban illna—(their life, property, and honour are ours)."

We must not suppose that the wild soldiers of Islam, the sons of the thousand tribes of the Prophet, will recognise or understand that to Christians they owe their victory; that they will believe that without the forces of the West they would have fallen before the foe; that they will allow that, but for our sufferance, their dominion would have passed away: this knowledge will be confined to the few, the fifty who rule at Stamboul, and those who see the truth will hate Christ's followers more fiercely for the fact.

The Western Powers may compel respect, tolerance, and liberty to the Christian subjects of the Porte, may exact immunities and command protection; this they must, but such will be powerless in each little village and hamlet, disregarded in dell or valley; and to enforce their observance, a surveillance would be required more laborious than the subdivision of the empire. The Moslem and Christians, mingled together, would require a force in every village and house to coerce the one or protect the other.

It would extend this letter far beyond proper measure to number proofs of what the writer advances, but a few may suffice.

Ibrahim Pasha, the Arslan of Islam, broke the forces of the Padishah, scattered his armies before him, occupied Syria and other provinces; the combined fleets attacked him, and drove him back quicker than he had advanced; the fact was patent to all the Beled-Arabistan. "And now, Arabs, see your Padishah. Ibrahim beats his armies. A force of England's, not a tithe of her peace establishment, comes and chases him back, as a dog does a gazelle : say now, son of Islam, is England not a great nation?" "Eh, Wallah! the Sultan commanded them; the English are his protected; the Padishah commanded it."

"A man of Mooltan: say, O Hadgée, can the men of Mooltan stand before the soldiers of the English?"-" Mashallah, it is His work; Islam fought with them, or the English would not have seized the sword of Moolraj."

These are no vulgar opinions, current among the lowest; but the thorough convictions of all and each.

The beneficial ordinances-What did they not grant to Christian Rayahs, and what did they yield? protection and toleration? Yes, while beneath the eye of consuls or ambassadors. But how were they carried out in villages, valleys, and mountain homes? A Moslem took what he willed; ruled, bullied, seized, forced, beat, and worked the Rayahs. Who dared resist? where could he appeal? his rulers were Moslem-his police Moslem-his judge Moslem. I do not overstate the fact, when I say that he was a slave, utterly, hopelessly bound, and delivered up to his tyrant. But enough-I again say, the war ended and the foe withdrawn, God have mercy on the Christians!

What, then, is to be the future of Turkey?