by certain secret wishes achieve in the tender, yielding heart of the sex, which is formed, as it were, for love alone? By degrees, Demetrius having such potent allies, succeeded in lulling to sleep, if he did not entirely banish the presentiment, as well as the terrible idea, that he had at one time actually believed himself an object of her preference. There is no occasion to detail the progress of love in youthful hearts. Those who have experienced its hopes and its fears, its pains, and its pleasures; its ebbings and its flowings; its perplexities and delights; its exaltations and depressions; its presumption and despondency, will anticipate it all. Those who have not, will some day find a better expositor in their own hearts, and it would be a pity to detract from the novelty of the reality, even by presenting a faint picture to the imagination.

In due course of nature, Demetrius obtained permission to apply to the merchant, who, as the young man was competently rich, and though not like himself, descended from one of the wise men of Greece, and of an ancient orthodox family, gave his consent without much hesitation. The old widowed mother of Demetrius, though fast sinking into the grave, at first made a show of opposition, thinking that a young and beautiful bride might, peradventure, undermine the wonderful influence she

flattered herself that she retained over her son. But a little coaxing on his part, gradually smoothed over her objections, more especially as she all at once bethought herself, that if the worst came to the worst, she possessed a never failing consolation in the miraculous virtues of the toe nail of St. John.

The marriage was consequently determined upon; but it was necessary to delay the ceremony until the consent of the magnificent Turkish Vaivode could be procured, by certain presents, without which no Christain dog of any breeding or consequence dared to wed. The Vaivode was at this time desperately afflicted with old age, and its attendant ills, so that no access could be had to his august presence; and if such a thing had ever been recorded in the annals of the Turkish empire, it would have been considered pretty certain that his speedy death by nature's means was approaching. In the interim, the aged mother of Demetrius departed this life; and there was consequently a new reason for delaying the consummation of his happiness. But time passed neither heavily, nor anxiously, in the enjoyment of mutual confidence, mutual anticipations, and the chaste endearments of mutual love. Still, sometimes, a shade of doubt, depression, even despondency, would cross the brightness of the present hour, and cloud the anticipations of the future, as the merchant's daughter,

recalled to mind the adverse decision of the oracle of the secret water. In her hours of hopeless grief, and ere she knew that her love was returned, she was often seen at the ruined fountain; but she now shunned the spot, because it brought to her mind more forcibly, the incidents which occurred to her on the last Eve of St. John.

While the lovers were waiting the expiration of the period of mourning, the old Vaivode died most miraculously in his bed, and without the aid of the bowstring; whence many people concluded, that either the end of the world, or the end of the Turkish empire was speedily approaching. This event made it necessary, agreeably to the canons of court etiquette, for the lovers to wait the arrival of a new Governor, that his consent might be asked. The interval was, however, much shorter than they anticipated; for a successor had already been appointed, before the death of the old Vaivode was known at Constantinople, and was on his way to tender him the bowstring. The poor old man got the start of his destiny but a few days.

The new Vaivode, a bashaw of three tails, in good time arrived. He was a native of Stampalia, and originally a Latin Christian, but he had long since exchanged the cross for the crescent. called the Prophet to witness that it was from motives of conscience; but as he was immediately af

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ter appointed dragoman to the Divan, people naturally doubted the purity of his motives. The Turkish government, being a very liberal and enlightened one, strictly prohibits all Mahometans from learning any foreign language. But as our new dragoman had acquired certain infidel tongues before he put on the turban, it was decided in the Divan that he was not obliged to unlearn them. Our new convert was therefore permitted, as one of the faithful, to make use of the knowledge he had acquired in a state of reprobation. In a little time he made himself highly useful and agreeable to the Mufti, most especially by interpreting every thing that went through his crucible, exactly to suit his masters wishes. He also cultivated with great assiduity, the good graces of the Grand Signior's barber, always the most important personage at court, because it is always in his power to cut his throat while trimming his whiskers. There is nothing the Commander of the Faithful is so much afraid of as his throat, which like the heel of Achilles, is particularly vulnerable. The barber is consequently a person of vast influence, and it is on him that the Christian ambassadors always first make the diplomatic experiment of a bribe.

Ali Osman, for this was the new name of our convert, had that natural instinct, which by many is thought much more valuable to the possessor,

than the boasted sagacity of the most profound philosophers. This instinct it is, which makes very little men, so often an overmatch for the wise ones of this world. He stuck to the barber and the Mufti like a bur, and never failed to swear a hundred and fifty times by Allah, that Mahomet had never a truer disciple than himself, nor such a trimmer of whiskers, as the Commander of the Faithful. The barber stroked his beard, and held his head higher than all the barbers of the universe put together. As Osman knew full well, that nobody ever obtained a favour from himself without first paying for it, he applied this rule to his own conduct, and never took a bribe, without transferring it with interest, to his patron who curled the sublime whiskers. The fruits of his sagacity soon appeared. He was shortly permitted to occupy apartments in the palace-to ride on horseback with four servants wearing fur caps as large as a half bushelto assume the title of dragoman to the Imperial Divan, and to dress like a Turkish nobleman, with the sole exception of a cap trimmed with ermine. This exception, however, was particularly grating to Osman, because it demonstrated that he was not a nobleman, just as effectually as if he dressed like a Jew, or an Armenian.

About this time the Commander of the Faithful sent a firman to the old Vaivode of the Fortunate