During the passage of the Sea Gull up the harbor, no one seemed to enjoy the genial influences of the day more than Pompey: there was something in the very atmosphere, he said, which gave him life and freedom, and he blessed the good land where a man might speak his mind without fear of a cuff or a whip. His fancy revelled in new dreams of liberty, and his exclamations of delight were so frequent and loud, that Walter at last sent him below. Presently, however, his head peered above the companion-way, and on his promise of silence and decorum, Walter permitted him again to come on deck—but it was all in vain. Pompey was in too warm a glow to keep still, and becoming once more a little too garrulous, Capt. Wing seized a rope, but before he had a chance to apply it, Pompey, who saw his purpose, was up the ratlings and on the cross-trees, where, although he had a better view of the blessed land, his raptures soon subsided, and he was enabled to keep silence long enough to insure his safety when he came down.

The schooner soon reached the wharf, which at that time was the great depÔt of trade and commerce. As Walter passed by the long ranges of wooden buildings which then occupied the ground, the merry cries of the market men, the grand display of merchandise, and the bustle of wagons and carts, formed a scene so full of novelty and attraction, that he lingered for an hour or more, surveying the different objects with lively curiosity and interest. Pompey was utterly amazed. 'What sort of world be this, Massa?' was his exclamation, as he stood at the termination of King street, from whence, at that time, all the business part of the town was visible. 'Mind your business, Pompey,' said Walter, 'and follow me with the luggage; if you stare at this rate, they will have you up for a vagabond, and with good reason.' Walter kept on, but in a moment or two, he heard a shout of merriment and glee, which had the effect of stopping all business within its circle. Pompey had just met with one of his own color, and when the two friends rushed together, it caused such an explosion of good nature, as sent the laugh up and down the street: the idlers came out to gaze, and a stout drayman, who saw the ludicrous attitude of the two blacks, tripped them both into the gutter, when Pompey, covered with shame and choked with dust and passion, rose on his feet and gave the drayman a violent blow, which nearly felled him to the ground; he was then seized by an officer and carried to prison on the charge of fighting in the streets; a serious crime, and one for which the fathers of New England had provided due punishment, which was usually inflicted in full measure on the culprit; for the rigid justice of those days was not often tempered by the mild pleadings of mercy.

Walter saw how the affair was going, and wishing his servant to have the full benefit of such a lesson, did not choose to interpose, but directing a porter to take his luggage, he saw Pompey move off to prison, with no regret that the ridiculous farce, in which he had acted, was likely to meet its proper rebuke. On his arrival at the hotel he was provided with suitable lodgings, and spent the remainder of the day in walking about town, and viewing the various objects of interest it contained.

The morning of the next day was occupied in visiting some of the gentlemen of the town, to whom Walter was furnished with letters. Among these were Mr. Stoughton, Judge Sewall, Rev. Mr. Willard, and Mr. Winthrop, the latter a distinguished practitioner at the bar. He was welcomed with the warm hospitality of those days, and assured of their kind offices and best efforts for his welfare. He related to Mr. Winthrop the affair in King street, between the two Africans, who caused an immediate examination of the case before a magistrate, which resulted in the release of Pompey, who followed his master home. His dream of liberty had by this time nearly vanished, and the poor negro was deeply concerned at his disgrace.

'It was a great breach of good manners, Pompey, to make such a noise in the street and tumble about in the gutter,' said Walter; 'I thought you intended to act the gentleman.'

'So I did, Massa, and many is the gentleman I have seen in the gutter, besides me.'

'Very well, he is no gentleman while there, especially if he clamors and fights as you did. That was too vulgar even for a gentleman's servant, and I was ashamed to have the public see you had not been better trained.'

'It is hard to get into jail, Massa, for being so glad to see an old friend. Is it one of the laws, Massa?'

'It is every where a law, to pick up vagabonds in the gutter,' said Walter; 'if you put me to this trouble every day, I shall send you back to Virginia.'

'Right glad to go, Massa; homesick enough,' said Pompey.

'Well, you must get over it, and behave in better fashion for the future. I am not without hopes, you will learn good manners in due time. This lesson will help you a little, and so will I, if you will try to help yourself. I want you now at my lodgings, and will there show you what you have to do.'

Pompey followed Walter to the inn, in better spirits; for a word of encouragement always gave him a glow of happiness, and he tossed his head with a new sense of his importance, as he entered the hotel to receive the orders and wait upon the movements of his young master.

In a few weeks, Walter was received into the family of Mr. Gardner, a highly respectable merchant, who was a friend and correspondent of his father. In this situation he was favored with the best literary advantages and possessed every facility for social enjoyment. He was committed to the special care of Mr. Cheever, one of the best teachers New England has ever produced, and made rapid proficiency in his studies; in less than two years, he was fully prepared for college; the usual examination was passed with singular credit, and he entered Harvard University in the year 1688. The social and moral influences which had surrounded him in Boston had done much to check his too volatile disposition, and to inspire him with a high respect for the consistent and exemplary piety which so much prevailed in those days; he was freely admitted to the best circles, where elegance without ostentation, cheerfulness without frivolity, and refinement without the despotism of fashion, were the natural and graceful ornaments of the social character.

Walter was not slow in improving the advantages he enjoyed. It is true, he sometimes thought the bow was bent too long, and that the demands of religious duty might be somewhat relaxed, yet he had the good sense to perceive in the state of the community around him, the best illustration of the excellence and moral force of that education in which science and religion acted in concert and moulded the temper and habits by their combined influence. Walter, however, was not religious in the true sense of the term. His understanding admitted the excellence of the moral precepts that were taught him, and his conscience confessed their power. He wanted neither light nor conviction on the subject, but he had no special love for the strict requirements of religion and had no experience of its renovating power on the heart.

We must now pass over the first years of college life, and pursue the train of incidents up to the period which introduced our narrative. Walter had attained his senior year in college, and had proceeded thus far with credit to himself and the esteem and confidence of his instructors. He had now reached that period when the character is rapidly developed, and new forms of good or ill are daily stamped on its features. At the age of twenty years, with a graceful person, pleasing manners, and confessedly in the highest literary ranks, his prospects were too flattering to escape the fears of his friends, that the temptations of life might prove too strong for his principles; but those fears were groundless. Although every distinction which wealth or talents could bestow were at his command, yet Strale was never unduly elated; there was no affectation of superiority, no arrogant assumption of rank, no pride of distinction. His whole course at Cambridge had been marked by a strict regard to his moral and social duties. He had even declined the personal services of Pompey, who was left in the family of Mr. Gardner, and chose to perform himself the little drudgery of college rooms, and to live in commons upon the ordinary college fare. The uniform kindness of his temper, his liberality to his fellow students, and his strict regard to every point of order and discipline, procured for him an enviable and well deserved reputation.

It was happy for Strale that among his youthful associates he possessed such a friend as Lyford. It was still more happy that the female society to which he was introduced, possessed every moral ornament, as well as the graces of refinement and good breeding. Among the ladies of New England he found very much to respect and admire. A scrupulous regard to the delicacy and dignity of the sex was almost universal, nor is it to be denied, that in personal attractions and all the truly valuable ornaments of character, they have not been surpassed by any succeeding generation.

It is pleasant to call up the beautiful pictures of simplicity and grace which adorned the dwellings of our ancestors; to look back upon those groups of maidens, who breathed the air of moral purity, and bounded in the full tide of health and happiness, over the gardens and among the forests of this very spot, where the city now spreads its marts of business, its solid piles of masonry, its 'streets of palaces and walks of state.' If the beauty of that moral painting was sometimes marred and defaced, it was as often retouched by many a simple, yet unconscious artist, and its calm and beautiful outline is still visible as a blessed vision of the past, and a sure beacon to future eminence and glory.

It was common among the students of Harvard College in those days, with the approbation of the faculty, to make frequent visits to Boston for purposes of social and religious improvement. This practice was encouraged in the belief that the early habits of the students would be formed on the best models, and that the moral feeling which then prevailed, was just the atmosphere in which they should live and breathe. The elder Mather, at that time President of the College, was himself a resident of Boston, and in connection with his College duties, was pastor of a large congregation in town. The students were, of course, when in Boston, much under his supervision, and any instance of misconduct would hardly escape the notice of this vigilant guardian of the public morals.

It was at the house of Mr. Hallam, a gentleman of intelligence and wealth in town, that Strale first met with the young lady whom we must still call Miss Graham. She was the intimate friend of Miss Caroline Hallam, a beautiful and accomplished girl of the same age. The early friendship they had formed was of a character not readily to be interrupted, and the interchange of visits between Boston and Salem was kept up, as often as the circumstances of the two friends would allow. There was, however, a strongly marked difference between the two young ladies. Miss Graham was sincere, confiding, and transparent in her character. Miss Hallam was somewhat vain, unusually gay in her temper, and strongly inclined to suspicion and jealousy; yet these points of character were not sufficiently developed, to interrupt the harmony which had prevailed for several years. In the summer of 1690, at a small musical party at Mr. Hallam's, Walter was first introduced to Miss Graham, and the sudden and powerful interest she then acquired in his affections, had never been subdued. From that time, when Mary was in town, the house of Mr. Hallam was Walter's chosen resort. His attentions, however, were cautiously shunned, and while she never failed in all the forms of politeness, there was a manifest reserve in her manners, which, though it checked his hopes and increased his respect and admiration, did not at all diminish his love.

It was not surprising, however, that Mary should feel some interest in a young gentleman of so many accomplishments, as were possessed by Strale. But, while she was careful not to betray any special attachment, or discover to her friends that her affections were at all involved in the matter, and while perhaps she was herself unconscious of the power he was gaining over her feelings, the reserve of her manners gradually softened, and she engaged with lively interest in that sportive and animated conversation, for which both were distinguished. But her natural seriousness of manner inclined her rather to subjects of graver import, and she never concealed the fact that religion and its kindred themes, were those upon which she most delighted to dwell. Indeed, this was so obvious to Strale, that he often regretted that his own heart refused its sympathy with a subject, which was uppermost in the heart of the object of his love. It was plain, however, that the acquaintance of the parties was becoming every day more agreeable, and the general opinion was, that, if the holy bands of matrimony did not finally unite such kindred tastes and tempers, no predictions, touching these matters, could ever be trusted again.

This state of things between the parties continued for about a year, when it gave occasion for the conversation which Lyford held with Strale on their return from a hunting excursion. A few days after this, Walter informed Lyford he had written his father of his attachment to Mary, and desired permission to make known his feelings, and, if she did not object, he requested his consent to their future union. This letter was accompanied by one from Mr. Gardner, in which he assured Mr. Strale that Miss Graham was every way worth of Walter's love, and possessed all those graces and accomplishments which would reflect the highest credit on the family.

This declaration on the part of Strale was entirely satisfactory to Lyford, and he no longer objected to the occasional intercourse which had been kept up between the parties. It is not improbable, however, that Walter was a little in advance of his father's consent, and that some of those visions, which glittered on his eye, would reflect a portion of their brilliancy on the mind of Miss Graham. But nothing was said of a definite character, and the two friends were left to the pleasure attending the consciousness of mutual love and the occasional sadness of 'hope deferred.'

Mary Graham was a decided favorite in Boston. Her personal attractions were surpassed by none, and her manners and conversation were scarcely rivalled by any of her associates. Yet she was simple and unpretending in her demeanor; her religious character, from long reflection and deep conviction, was firm and decided; but she was no enthusiast, and though even Walter, at times, thought her more precise and severe than necessary, yet there was a charm of inexpressible beauty, interwoven with her every movement, a purity of mind and purpose, a visible communion with things unseen and eternal, which commanded the unvoluntary homage and respect of all who knew her.

It was not strange that a young lady thus gifted, should have many admirers, nor that love of equal strength with that of Strale's, should be kindled in the affections of others. Such was the fact in regard to Mary, and its consequences will be unfolded in the progress of our narration. But it is a law of our nature, most beneficent and wise, that but one response can be given, and, when given in sincerity and truth, it is done with no divided heart.