papers, and who keep the current of the year's intelligence; but such
men are the exceptions. In New England, with the school upon every third
hill-side, and the self-regulating, free-acting church to watch every
valley with week-day quiet, and to wake every valley with Sabbath sound,
the men become, as a class, bold, intelligent, and honest actors, who
would make again, as they have made before, a terrible army of
defence,--and who would find reasons for their actions as strong as
their armies.

Frank's grandfather has silver hair, but is still hale, erect, and
strong. His dress is homely but neat. Being a thorough-going
Protectionist, he has no fancy for the gewgaws of foreign importation,
and makes it a point to appear always in the village church, and on all
great occasions, in a sober suit of homespun. He has no pride of
appearance, and he needs none. He is known as the Squire throughout the
township; and no important measure can pass the board of selectmen
without the Squire's approval;--and this from no blind subserviency to
his opinion,--because his farm is large, and he is reckoned
"forehanded,"--but because there is a confidence in his judgment.

He is jealous of none of the prerogatives of the country parson, or of
the schoolmaster, or of the village doctor; and although the latter is a
testy politician of the opposite party, it does not all impair the
Squire's faith in his calomel; he suffers all his Radicalism with the
same equanimity that he suffers his rhubarb.

The day-laborers of the neighborhood, and the small farmers, consider
the Squire's note-of-hand for their savings better than the best bonds
of city origin; and they seek his advice in all matters of litigation.
He is a Justice of the Peace, as the title of Squire in a New-England