feet, and clapping of hands, that the house trembled to its foundations.

'Imagine, fellow-citizens, if you can,' exclaimed a young gentleman, as soon as the hubbub ceased, the holiness of that cause which can draw that venerable form from the green bowers of a peaceful home, to honor its friends by his presence!'

This delicate allusion to Mr. Tremlett produced three more rounds of applause, which raised such a dust that he was for a time like some unhappy authors who have been completely smothered by the adulations of their critics. But it reminded the old gentleman that he had rather indiscreetly undertaken to preside over a meeting, without having first informed himself of the object for which it was called. He was not allowed to remain long in ignorance, however; and when the meeting broke up, he retired covered with dust, if not with glory.

In the morning he received Jeremiah's letter, giving an account of the disasters that had overtaken him, and asking for a remittance of money to enable him to get on to Willow-mead with his charge. On the receipt of this intelligence, he immediately forgot all his resolutions of the night before, and pretending to be afraid to trust our hero in such hands as Jeremiah's, he set off for the place at which the letter was dated, for the avowed purpose of conducting the lad safely to Willow-mead, but with the secret intention of bringing him back with him. When he arrived at the tavern, he learned that Jeremiah and John had left some hours before, on foot; and being fearful that some accident might happen to them, he hired a carriage of the tavern-keeper, and in spite of the entreaties of the feeling landlady, who predicted that a storm would overtake him, he proceeded after the travellers, hoping to come up with them before night overtook them. But the roads were bad, the driver was sleepy, and one of the horses was lame; so they did not travel very rapidly. But when it began to rain, the driver felt a sudden anxiety to get to the end of his journey; and he began to lay the whip on to his cattle with such a hearty good will, that they galloped over the road at a greater speed than was pleasant to all parties, until they were crossing the ricketty old bridge, when they were suddenly precipitated into the river, as has already been related in the last chapter, as well as the manner in which they were saved from drowning.

When Mr. Tremlett was so far restored as to be considered out of danger, Jeremiah turned to friend Hogshart, and thanked him with great earnestness for having turned John and himself out of doors, as but for his apparent unkindness, they could not have been instrumental in saving the life of their kind benefactor.

So thee sees, friends,' replied the Quaker, it is always safest to adhere strictly to the discipline of society.'

'May God forgive us!' said Jeremiah, but I am afraid I entertained some hard feelings toward you, my good friend, although I prayed very devoutly that I might not.'

I doubt not thee did,' said friend Hogshart; 'but I thought I experienced some unusual promptings within, which would not allow me to break through the rules of society: it was doubtless the workings of the spirit, since thee sees it was to accomplish a good end.'

'I should like to feel the operation of some spirits too, and no mistake!' said the driver, who stood drying himself by the fire; for I am as wet as old Nabby Dribletts, after she had been hauled through a horse-pond, to cure her of being a witch; and as for inward promptings, I tell you how it is, neighbor, I have 'em no ways slow, and grumblings too, although I must confess they are not very unusual; and I swear to gracious if I don't have something to eat soon, I shall be forced to break through the discipline of society, and the cupboarddoor too!'

Thy thoughts should be fixed on something higher, my friend, after having just escaped from such a perilous situation. I feel, friends, that this will be a very proper occasion for an exercise of prayer according to the Good Book, we should be constant in prayer, and we are commanded to give thanks in all things.' So friend Hogshart dropped upon his knees, without farther ceremony, and prayed with great fervor, which so sensibly affected Jeremiah, that he shed tears; he felt that he could never forgive himself for having thought ill of so good a man.

When friend Hogshart had ended his prayer, he rose up from his knees, and gave orders for supper to be got ready for the travellers. 'I tell you how it is, neighbor Longskirts,' said the driver, whose tongue seemed to run very glibly, now that his clothes were dry, 'I never could pray on an empty stomach, and I swear to goodness 1 do n't believe you could, either! I'll bet you a horn of Monongahela whiskey, old fellow, that you have had your supper. Heu quam difficiles, and so forth: I can talk Latin to you by the wholesale, and I will beat you at praying, after I have laid in a good supply of that fried ham and apple-sauce, or I'll acknowledge that I am no christian. Ne sutor crepidam; let the parson go pray, and you peg away.'

'Friend,' said the Quaker, 'I have saved thy life, and would have given thee food and shelter for the night; but thy profane language has proved thee unworthy to remain beneath this roof: thee must go, and the next time thee is taken into a Friend's, perhaps thee will know how to behave thyself. Walk out!'

'Not I!' said the driver, as he braced himself against the jamb of the fire-place; 'I could n't prevail upon myself to do so, no how. I must have some supper first, and something hot to drink, and after that I shall feel too sleepy to comply with your polite request. I hope you have got plenty of dos amigos, because I must have a smoke after supper; and here's this pretty young lady that I must become acquainted with, too;' and without more ceremony, he put his arm round the neck of the Quaker's daughter, and gave her a kiss. The young lady did not faint, but on the contrary she gave the driver a thwack on his ear with the palm of her hand, that must have made him hear strange sounds.

'Well, friend, if thee do n't see fit to go of thine own will, I shall put thee out,' said the Quaker.

The driver would now have been very glad to beg pardon for his rude behavior, for he saw that friend Hogshart was not a person to be trifled with; but his repentance came too late the farmer called his two eldest sons to his aid, and in spite of the driver's kicks and struggles, they picked him up and deposited him outside the door,

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where they left him in the pelting rain, to make such disposition of himself as he pleased. He rapped on the window, and begged piteously to be admitted again; and even Mr. Tremlett and Jeremiah interceded in his behalf; but the Quaker was not to be moved.

'I know him very well,' said friend Hogshart; he is the son of Judge Hupstart, a man who has taken so much interest in public affairs, that he has entirely neglected his own: this fellow is his eldest son, whom he sent to college, but upon his coming home, his behaviour was so unnatural, that his father turned him out of doors, and now he picks up a living by doing little jobs at the tavern, just beyond here.'

By this time supper was placed upon the table, and Mr. Tremlett being quite recovered, he sat down with Jeremiah and John, and all three did ample justice to the good things placed before them. It would have been a difficult matter for either of them to have decided which of the trio was happiest. The old merchant experienced an inward satisfaction in the reflection that he could now express openly the tender regard that he felt for his adopted son, without suspicion of weakness; for the fact that the boy had been instrumental in saving his life, was sufficient cause for the most unbounded love. Our hero felt happy in being once more in the company of his father, and in receiving such unequivocal evidences of the old man's regard as he every moment manifested; and it was enough for Jeremiah to see others happy, to feel so himself; although it must be confessed there was a dash of pain in his enjoyments, caused by the recollection of his own want of prudence, which had been the cause of placing them all in so much peril. Our hero, too, felt very happy when his father told him that instead of sending him on to Willow-mead, it was his intention to take him back to town, and place him again under the charge of his old tutor, Mr. Hedges. It was also a source of great gratification to Jeremiah, for he had became so strongly attached to his young companion, that he looked forward to their separation. with real pain.

The next morning, the weather being clear and pleasant, Mr. Tremlett hired a carriage of friend Hogshart, and our three travellers set out on their return to the city, with light hearts and lighter pockets, and unencumbered with any superfluous luggage; Mr. Tremlett's trunk having been carried over the mill-dam, together with the carriage, the night before.

However unaccountable a man's actions may sometimes appear, they can generally be traced to a moving cause: murder, suicides, and robberies never are accidents; but when he falls in love, in nine cases out of ten it would puzzle the most profound philosopher in Germany to discover the how and why. What opportunities Jeremiah Jernegan might have had for forming an acquaintance with Huldah Hogshart, the farmer's daughter, who was so active in preparing the supper for the benighted travellers, has never transpired; but it was very evident to the most unconcerned of the lookers-on, when those young persons bade each other farewell, that a very tender regard for each other had already sprung up between them; a regard which appeared the more evident, from the pains which they both took to conceal it.

Having thus, gentle reader, brought before you the principal personages of this history, we shall, with this chapter, conclude the first book; and in the next, the real narrative of the story will be begun. We felt ourself called upon to be thus minute in introducing the prominent characters of this history, that their after acts might be more easily accounted for; for nothing is more annoying, in reading a history, than to find actions attributed to certain people, which appear very foreign to their real characters. This we believe is owing to the neglect of the historian in not giving, at the outset, such an account of his personages, that the idiosyncrasy of their minds may be understood by the reader. For I cannot believe that an author would be guilty of the injustice of attributing to one of his characters an action which De had never committed.

In saying that we have introduced in this book the principal personages of this history, we do not wish the reader to infer that there will be no others brought forward; as it will be necessary to the development of the story, that several more shall be introduced to his acquaintance, in the succeeding chapters. For as the eye, in following a noble river through a wide spread landscape, must of necessity take in many meaner objects, so in writing the history of an individual, it is impossible for the historian to exclude from his pages all those meaner persons with whom his hero is compelled to associate.

WILL CONTAIN SOME SOLEMN REFLECTIONS ON THE SUBJECT OF DEATH.

Nor a great many years ago, there might have been seen among the innumerable little tin signs in Wall-street, one which bore the names of BROTHERS TUCK, hanging against the basement office of a very high granite building. This was the place of business of the two young gentlemen of that name, who were introduced to the reader's notice in the first book of this history. They were then boys; they were at the time of which we now write, men. Although they were, when boys, called simply Tom and Sam, yet they were now known as T. Jefferson Tuck, and S. Augustus Tuck; but as we have a fondness for old-fashioned names, we shall continue to call them by those by which we first knew them. In the neighborhood of Wall-street, and at the board of brokers, they were known by at least a dozen different appellations. Some called them simply the Tucks, others Guss. and Jeff.; others the two Tucks; while some merely called them the Brothers; and some coarse people, for there are coarse people even in Wall-street, called them 'the Tuckses.' They were in good credit, for it was generally known that their uncle was very rich and old, and they never troubled themselves to contradict the rumor that he was going to leave them a large part of his property. Tom Tuck was the managing partner. He had the repu

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tation of being a very skilful financier; and when any body called upon Sam, in relation to business, he always referred them to his brother. What the particular nature of their business was, no one ever rightly understood: it was only known that they made operations,' and had 'transactions,' and hence they were supposed to be 'shrewd calculators,' 'devilish close fellows,' who contrived to keep their affairs to themselves. They lived with their mother at the genteelest extremity of the city, and drove down to their office every morning in a drab-colored phaeton, of a very singular shape. They dealt some in stocks, talked knowingly about the currency' and 'exchanges,' and dined at a French restaurant. They frequented political meetings, and subscribed to benevolent societies without number; they signed all the petitions that were brought to them, let the object be what it might; and they were of course universally respected.

Have you seen that infernal Jew, Jacobs ?' said Tom Tuck to his brother, as he entered their office one morning.

'Not yet,' replied Sam: I am just in the middle of a capital story; do n't disturb me.'

'Don't be a fool any longer!' said the elder brother; 'throw aside those cursed novels, and attend to your business. You must see Jacobs this morning.'

Yes, presently; I want to finish this chapter first, or I shall lose the thread of the story,' replied Sam.

'You will lose your neck one of these days, by your nonsense,' returned his brother: 'd-n that coxcomb BULWER! I wish I could catch him! I would cram his blasted nonsense down his throat!'

'Hush! hush!' said Sam; 'do n't get excited: here comes William.'

'Did you see Mr. Tremlett?' said Tom, addressing a boy who now entered the office.

'Yes, Sir,' said the lad, ' and he sent you this note.'

Let me see,' said Tom, as he opened the note, 'what the greenhorn says:'

'DEAR T.: I am sorry that I cannot send you the money. My father is out of town, and your uncle is too unwell to leave his chamber. You know I cannot draw a check. 'Please say to Julia that I shall not be able to see her this evening,

That's first rate!' exclaimed Sam, throwing down a yellowcovered book that he was reading; 'I'll go right off and find Jac

He was cut short by a glance from his brother's eye, who turned to the boy, and told him, mildly, to go to Scull and Skamp's, and ask them if they had a couple of thousand over. Now,' he said, turning to his brother, as soon as the boy had left, start, and do n't come back until you have found him; but do n't bring him here; tell him I'll meet him at the old place.'

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Notwithstanding the great anxiety of the elder Tuck to get his brother off, the junior stopped to brush up his whiskers, and adjust his Madras cravat, before he went, which caused the other to swear very profanely; and even after he had once left the office, he returned