odes, and sometimes in a way that the
rules of philosophy might reject. Some require a suitor to sit down
before them, as it might be, in a regular siege, and only capitulate
when the place can hold out no longer; others, again, like to be carried
by storm; while there are hussies who can only be caught by leading
them into an ambush. The first is the most creditable and officer-like
process, perhaps; but I must say I think the last the most pleasing."

"An opinion formed from experience, out of all question. And what of the
storming parties?"

"They may do for younger men, Lundie," returned the Quartermaster,
rising and winking, a liberty that he often took with his commanding
officer on the score of a long intimacy; "every period of life has its
necessities, and at forty-seven it's just as well to trust a little to
the head. I wish you a very good even, Major Duncan, and freedom from
gout, with a sweet and refreshing sleep."

"The same to yourself, Mr. Muir, with many thanks. Remember the passage
of arms for the morrow."

The Quartermaster withdrew, leaving Lundie in his library to reflect on
what had just passed. Use had so accustomed Major Duncan to Lieutenant
Muir and all his traits and humors, that the conduct of the latter
did not strike the former with the same force as it will probably the
reader. In truth, while all men act under one common law that is termed
nature, the varieties in their dispositions, modes of judging, feelings,
and selfishness are infinite.

CHAPTER XI.

Compel the hawke to sit that is unmann'd,
Or make the hound, untaught, to draw the deere,
Or bring the free against his will in band,
Or move the sad a pleasant tale to heere,
Your time is lost, and you no whit the neere!
So love ne learnes, of force the heart to knit:
She serves but those that feel sweet fancies' fit.
_Mirror for Magistrates._

It is not often that hope is rewarded by fruition so completely as the
wishes of the young men of the garrison were met by the state of the
weather on the succeeding day. The heats of summer were little felt
at Oswego at the period of which we are writing; for the shade of the
forest, added to the refreshing breezes from the lake, so far reduced
the influence of the sun as to render the nights always cool and the
days seldom oppressive.

It was now September, a month in which the strong gales of the coast
often appear to force themselves acro