or coarser oaths. The noise the appearance of those around him, (principally draymen, porters, hostlers, and others of the roughest cast, the attendants upon the market and the stage house) with the smell of liquors and tobacco smoke, made the poor boy's heart sink a second time, and he retired, shrinking from the loathsome scene, and sat down on his trunk to collect his thoughts: his head was whirling and dancing, as if still feeling the motion of the stage-coach, and his heart sickened at the scene before and around him. He heard the coach drive from the door. Even this was like the departure of an acquaintance-the last link that united him to home. In addition to the disagreeable objects that offended his physical senses, his moral sense was pained by that which was present, and by the revival or awakening of the spectre that haunted him. He thought of his mother.

This situation, either of body or mind, could not endure long with a boy of sixteen. He knew he must not remain where he was, and now recollected, for the first time, that his father had given him a letter, with, of course, the address of his uncle. It was locked up carefully in his trunk. The first movement was to open his trunk and seek it: but the thought occurred, that in such a place and with such company, that would not be eligible; he had read of tricks upon travellers. He stood undetermined, looking at the depository of his worldly treasure with somewhat of lack-lustre eye.

The suspicion that ill could be intended him by any thing in human shape, had only entered his mind from books: and only experience can make the innocent mind suspicious. He had read of deceits and falsehoods, and in after life saw and suffered from them, as all must; but suspicion never, even in after life, made a part of his character. To utter any words but those of truth, would have appeared to the Green-mountainboy as impolitic as it was absurd. This characteristic always remained with him. In despite of experience, he never could be brought to suspect his fellow-creatures of deceit; and in despite of the many inconveniences his frankness occasioned, he continued to love truth the more he suffered for truth's sake. As a man is induced to love his country the more in consequence of those miseries he encounters in her defence.

All the mental debate we have suggested, and much more, had passed in a moment of time, and the rumbling of the coach wheels had scarcely ceased in his ears, or the giddiness occasioned by riding, left his head, when once more looking around for some one to whom he might apply for that information he

had locked up in his trunk instead of his memory, he saw a person near him whose appearance did not discourage the address, and he asked this gentleman (for such he evidently was) who happened to be near him, where "Mr. Abraham Spiffard lived?"

The man was a tall, thin, upright figure, enveloped in an ample blue cloak, clasped under his chin with silver: above the collar of this cloak arose on each side of his parchmentcoloured face, three formidable curls, such as belles sometimes think ornamental to the faces of girls of sixteen, but at that period, confined to the well-powdered wigs of gentlemen of sixty. This buckram-stiff pile was surmounted by a large cocked-hat, rather brown than black-not from any lack of brushing. Below the cloak could only be seen high-topp'd shoes and silver buckles; both showing that they were daily well cleaned, though now bespattered with mud from the low and filthy place in which the stage-house stood.

"I can tell you, my little man," was the old gentleman's reply, as he looked down upon Zeb's queer face, turned up towards his own, with a slight inclination to the right, and a twist of the mouth to the left, while the earnest protrusion of his dark sparkling eyes, and the honest confidence expressed by all his features in combination, rivetted the stranger's attention to the person of our hero, though at first overlooked in his examination of the travellers who had arrived in the stage. "And what may your business be with Mr. Abraham Spiffard?"

"I have been two days riding from Long-pond in the Green Mountains, to come and pay him a visit," said Zeb, "and I have got a letter from father to him, but it is in my trunk."

Mr. Abraham Spiffard, to whom these words were addressed, had come to await the arrival of the stage, kindly anticipating the wants of his adopted son. On finding that this strange figure was the object of his expectations, he stepped back and surveyed the odd and uncouth appearance of the boy with mingled sensations, in which pleasure did not predominate. He had, in imagination, seen a tall, florid lad, rustic to be sure, but looking as vigorous, towering, independent, and fresh as the country of his birth; and he in the reality, saw a creature of diminutive height, pallid complexion and outrè physiognomy; whose members appeared any thing rather than symmetrical, and whove movements under present circumstances, gave no indication of Green Mountain buoyancy, for though our hero was in truth both independent in mind and vigorous in body, his externals little denoted either; and these externals were now in their worst dress.

The uncle's good sense overpowered his feelings of chagrin ; and telling Zebediah who he was, he welcomed him to Boston, and hastily called the porter of the inn to bear the trunk of the Green-mountain-boy to his future home. This done, he courteously led his protegee to his house, which was pleasantly situated near the summit of Fort-hill.

CHAPTER VIII.

An old Bachelor's house, a Lawyer's office, and a Play in Boston.

"The principal end why we are to get knowledge here, is to make use of it for the benefit of ourselves and others in this world."-Locke.

THE reader doubtless has found out before he arrives at the present chapter, that this book is not a romance, but a story of every-day life. A fiction, it is true, but copied from real life. Yet who does not know that the events of real life are more astounding-more difficult to reconcile to ordinary reason than any romance ever written-setting aside perhaps, the delightful Arabian Nights, and some other tales in which supernatural agency is introduced? What romancer would have dared to invent such stupendous events as history records of the early crusades? Who would have dared to tell of thousands of children flying from their parents and congregating to conquer Syria from the Mussulman :-marching unappalled by difficulties over a great part of Europe, without meeting a power, moral or physical, to stop their progress to destruction inevitable? What romancer, if he had conceived such an event as the western world "loosened from its foundations and precipitated upon the east," would have dared to describe what he had imagined? or could have imagined, that from centuries of war, during which rapine was accompanied by dissolute manners, and guided by ignorance-and where famine, disease, and the sword destroyed millions-the blessings of liberty, science and the arts would arise? But to recur to later times-to the days yet scarce gone by: could poet have thought in his wildest dreams of an adventurer rising up from obscurity and binding emperors and kings in his chains; then sinking, through overweening pride, to the state of an outcast

from society? Yet this we have seen. But setting history aside, it is sufficient for my purpose to refer the reader to the volumes of the Causes Celebres. Our story is a story of real life-and real life is sufficiently seasoned, by the wonderful, to make it interesting to those who look for the racy and the spicy in the pages of a novelist. Not that I promise to spread such high seasoned food before the reader of these

pages.

Abraham Spiffard had commenced his career in this mutable state of existence as an attorney, and having inherited his father's estate (before our separation from Great Britain) by the English laws of primogeniture, he did not, as is usual,. make it his business to dissipate it; but, on the contrary, feeling the comforts as well as consequence which property gave him among his neighbours, he determined to increase the sources of such enviable possessions. He at first proceeded slowly and in the way of his profession; but his industry and invariable attention to the interests of his clients, gained him practice of the best kind, which gave him an opportunity to make purchases of real estate in lands and houses, with advantages which none out of his profession could have. He was honest, frugal, thriving, and became a rich man of unimpeachable character.

A neat and

His establishment was that of an old bachelor. well-furnished house, with a court yard before it, and a garden behind. One man servant, who was gardener, hostler, butler and footman; and one elderly female, who filled the station of housekeeper, and condescended to be cook and chambermaid -both natives of New England, and both white-constituted his household. Having long renounced his original profession, Mr. Abraham Spiffard thus lived a life of retirement, with most of the enjoyments which a mind of a philosophic inclination could desire.

As the uncle had expected our hero, an apartment was in readiness for him; and after the refreshment of tea and toast,. by a cheerful hickory fire, he dismissed him to bed by remarking that he "was sure he must be tired,"-wisely determining not to enter into an examination of his unpromising adopted son until the morrow.

Being shown to his allotted apartment by his uncle, and left with an injunction to extinguish the candle before he got into bed, Zeb examined attentively every object about him, and in truth felt much less sleepy than before he was ushered into a domain of which he was told that he was the master, and before the restraint of a strange old gentleman's presence was

removed. He saw and felt, as soon as he entered, that the chamber had been prepared with a view to his permanent residence and future comfort; and that all around him had an aspect very superior to any thing he had seen at Spiffard-town. A narrow bed, much longer than necessary, with quilted calico coverlet well stuffed with cotton wool; surrounded by calico curtains, on which were depicted Lord Anson, his ship, his sailors, and the groves and fountains of the isles of those delightful climes, the thought of which made Rousseau exclaim,. O Tinian! O Juan Fernandez !"- Below this pictured enclosure was a resting place of down (or goose feathers) covered by sheets and pillow-case white as the driven snow. A table (over which hung a mahogany framed looking-glass; and, on which stood a neat writing desk completely furnished) was placed on the side of the room opposite the bed. Two mahogany chairs, solid and heavy, with calico covered bottoms were deemed sufficient for the boy-and here again Lord Anson,. his ship, and his sailors, appeared in undiminished beauty. But what gave most delight to Zeb was a handsome chest of drawers (occupying part of the same side of the room with the door) surmounted by a book-case with glass doors, which showed rows of neatly arranged and well-bound volumes.

We feel assured, that our readers will be gratified, after travelling from Vermont with the Green-mountain-boy, toknow, even to particulars, that he was set down in good quarters after his long journey.

Tired as Zeb was, he could not resist the temptation to examine the last-mentioned treasure. Delighted he took down volume after volume, almost all new to him. A collection of modern and ancient history. Pope's Translations; Milton's poems; Dryden's Virgil; Shakspeare's plays; and a rich store of voyages and travels; a bible and a prayer book, with his name printed in gold letters on the cover of each, completed the arrangement and filled the shelves of this well-chosen piece of furniture. All thoughts of sleep fled before intellectual excitement, and time passed insensibly, when a knocking at his chamber door aroused Zeb from his enchanting occupation. He opened the door. It was his uncle who had knocked and now presented himself. He saw with astonishment what had been the employment of the youth, and his eyes sparkled with: pleasure at the discovery.

"I observed a light under the door," said the old gentleman, " and I was afraid you had gone to bed and forgot to put out the candle."