fortunate adventurer."

"By the mass" said Crevecoeur, "I have but too much reason to believe
your Grace will find her more amenable to authority than on former
occasions.--But why should I grudge this youth his preferment? Since,
after all, it is sense, firmness, and gallantry which have put him in
possession of WEALTH, RANK, and BEAUTY!"

* * * * *

I had already sent these sheets to the press, concluding, as I thought,
with a moral of excellent tendency for the encouragement of all fair
haired, blue eyed, long legged, stout hearted emigrants from my native
country, who might be willing in stirring times to take up the gallant
profession of Cavalieros of Fortune. But a friendly monitor, one of
those who, like the lump of sugar which is found at the bottom of a tea
cup, as well as the flavour of the souchong itself, has entered a bitter
remonstrance, and insists that I should give a precise and particular
account of the espousals of the young heir of Glen Houlakin and the
lovely Flemish Countess, and tell what tournaments were held, and how
many lances were broken, upon so interesting an occasion; nor withhold
from the curious reader the number of sturdy boys who inherited the
valour of Quentin Durward, and of bright damsels, in whom were renewed
the charms of Isabelle de Croye. I replied, in course of post, that
times were changed, and public weddings were entirely out of fashion. In
days traces of which I myself can remember, not only were the "fifteen
friends" of the happy pair invited to witness their Union, but the
bridal minstrelsy still continued, as in the "Ancient Mariner," to "nod
their heads" till morning shone on them. The sack posset was eaten in
the nuptial chamber--the stocking was thrown--and the bride's garter was
struggled for in presence of the happy couple whom Hymen had made one
flesh. The authors of the period were laudably accurate in following
its fashions. They spared you not a blush of the bride, not a rapturous
glance of the bridegroom, not a diamond in her hair, not a button on his
embroidered waistcoat; until at length, with Astraea, "they fairly put
their characters to bed." [the reference is to the plays of Mrs. Aphra
Behn. "The stage how loosely doth Astraea tread, who fairly puts each
character to bed."] But how little does this agree with the modest
privacy which induces our modern brides--sweet bashful darlings!--to
steal from pomp and plate, and admiration and flattery, and, like