opinion of the particular circle, in which he has been in the habit of moving.

He is not the man that I could ever look upon as a FRIEND. Because, knowing myself to be a faulty creature, I am certain that if one of my faults were detected and MADE KNOWN, he (although, perhaps, aware of, or suspecting my evil propensities beforehand) would follow the example of his set, (if they thought proper to cut me,) and say, "good bye, you are no longer any friend of mine." There would be no hesitation on his part, if I were merely unfortunate. Then I know his purse and time would be at my disposal. At the same time under such circumstances, I would rather starve than be beholden to him for any favor; and, why so? Because if he have not a proper charity for my faults, (and moral courage sufficient to evince it openly,) I cannot but think that a pseudo generosity which leads him to take an interest in my misfortunes. He is a cold, calculating, cautious creature; (never yet found out in any peccadillo !) and I made use of a wrong expression just now, when I begged it might not be supposed that he was actuated by ungenerous motives. He has little or no generosity about him; as I understand the term. However, he is an upright, honest and respectable citizen. But enough of him, (I am afraid he will not turn out the best husband in the world; he will not make

sufficient allowances for little faults in temper, &c., of his wife.-Poor Emily!)

What noise is that in the passage?

"What noise is that in the passage?" cried Mrs. Enfield, as soon as Lauder had made an end of his communication; "What noise is that?"

Two or three voices were heard, apparently at high words, in the hall. Lauder opened the door of the parlour, and looked out. "What is the

matter, good people?" said he.

"A civil answer-a civil answer, is all that I want, Master," cried a rough-headed fellow, coming forward," and, perhaps, you will give us one. Come along, Sam, show yourself."

Lauder drew back, and our friends, Jack Adams, and Sam Jib, entered the room.

Somerville was about to retire, but Jack interposed; making his best bow, he begged that the gentleman would not discompose himself. " I only want," said he, "a plain answer to a plain question, which that swab at the door would not give me. Axing your pardon for the liberty, does one Mr. Cronchfield live here? That cretur says he never heerd of him, yet this letter has got upon Cronchfield, Esq., No. 12, T- Street. This is the house, and street, if I can read the number, and what 's put up on the corner. This is T Street, be'nt it? and No. 12?"

it,

Before Lauder could reply, Sophia, who recog

nised Jack instantly, and associating the past with the present, dared to hope that the two beings she had seen before in apparently friendly communion, were still in some way connected with each other, -darted forward, and took the letter. It was unsealed. Without knowing what she was about, she opened it.

"My dear girl!" exclaimed Mrs. Enfield, advancing, "You have opened the letter."

Sophia blushed deeply, and begun to refold it. In doing so, the name of Charles Alleyne, in the body of the letter, caught her eye.

"Good GOD! It is -I thought so-see!" She turned to Somerville, and pointed with a trembling hand to the name.

"Are you Squire Cronchfield?" inquired Jack, bluntly, of Somerville.

"No," said the gentleman, much agitated. "But, my good fellow, where did you get this letter?"

"If you're not the squire, that can't consarn you, I'm thinking. And its rather shabby conduct, it appears to me, to read another man's letter."

Regardless of this observation, Somerville hastily ran his eye over the contents.

"A letter of introduction from Mr. Dornton (one of the most distinguished men of the South.)-"

"Avast! if you're not Mr. Cronchfield, I say, give us back that ere."

"My good fellow, the gentleman alluded to in this letter is the dearest friend I have in the world. Tell me tell me-do you know aught concerning him ?"

"How can I tell? I don't know who you're talking about."

"Alleyne, Charles Alleyne,-does he live?" Jack looked earnestly at the speaker, and then at the surrounding group. "By jingo, I think we're among friends, Sam. They do look mightily consarned about the lad-eh? Shall I split?" "Does he live?" shouted Somerville, grasping the arm of the tar.

"Well, then, he does."

"Thank GOD! thank GOD!"

"Whoo-0-00!" screamed Cicero, jumping about six feet from the ground.

Sophia hastily left the room.

"By the holy! look at blackee, mess-mate; quiet the cretur, or he'll do hisself a mischief."

"Hold your jaw, Sambo," cried Sam, "can't ye? By gom, the cretur's possessed! keep your legs quiet, and don't make that infarnal noise."

"Sam, I'll bet a trifle, that's the nigger, the poor Captain called after so much, when he was out of his head. Be quiet, can't ye! What's your name, friend?"

"Cic-Cicero," blubbered the black, "whoo-oo!" "Cicero, that's it!-it is the nigger; now, hold your clapper, Mister Cicero, or curse me, if I tell ye a word more about your master."

This threat had the effect of rendering the black somewhat more composed. He gave over capering, and squatted down on the floor. A strange cackling sound, however, something between a sob and a chuckle, occasionally escaped him. Adams, now, in answer to Somerville's agitated inquiries, related, in his own peculiar fashion, the history of his acquaintance with the Captain, (as he persisted in calling Alleyne ;) and as how he had found him in a fit on the Thursday morning, all upon the cold stones-and as how he had carried him home to his own lodgings, &c.

་

"The doctor called his disorder a narvous fever," continued Jack, " and terrible bad he was, to be sure; for one whole day and night, the poor feller didn't know no one, not even me, who acted for the most part as his nurse. But at last, he comes to hisself, and the doctor begins to have some hopes on him. For a bit, sir, he continued quite rational like ;-but all of a sudden, just as I thought he was on the mend, he takes a notion into his head not to swallow any more of the medicine-stuff that was doing him so much good. 'Twas no use argufying the point with un, he wouldn't budge a bit from his determination. All