fault, and that, in my eyes, was a very serious one. Clara did not love a sailor. The soldiers she doated on. But Clara's predilections were not easily overcome, and that which had once taken root grew up and flourished. She fancied sailors were not well bred; that they thought too much of themselves or their ships; and, in short, that they were as rough and unpolished as they were conceited.
With such obstinate and long-rooted prejudices against all of our profession, it proved no small share of merit in Talbot to overcome them. But as Clara's love for the army was more general than particular, Talbot had a vacant theatre to fight in. He began by handing her to dinner, and with modest assurance seated himself by her side. But so well was he aware of her failing, that he never once alluded to our unfortunate element; on the contrary, he led her away with every variety of topic which he found best suited to her taste: so that she was at last compelled to acknowledge
