CHAPTER XXIX.
“Why wilt thou add to all the griefs I suffer,Imaginary ills, and fancied tortures?”Cato.
“Why wilt thou add to all the griefs I suffer,Imaginary ills, and fancied tortures?”Cato.
“Why wilt thou add to all the griefs I suffer,Imaginary ills, and fancied tortures?”Cato.
“Why wilt thou add to all the griefs I suffer,
Imaginary ills, and fancied tortures?”
Cato.
The scene must now be shifted to Rattletrap. Biberry was deserted. Even the rumours with which its streets had been so lately filled, were already forgotten. None have memories as frail as the gossip. Not only does this class of persons—and a numerous class it is, including nearly all whose minds are not fitted to receive more elevated materials—not only, we say, does this class of persons overlook the contradictions and absurdities of the stories they repeat, but they forget the stories themselves almost as soon as heard. Such was now the case atBiberry.Biberry.Scarce an individual could be found in the place who would acknowledge that he or she had ever heard that Mary Monson was connected with robbers, or who could recollect that he once fancied the accused guilty.
We may as well say here, that nothing has ever been done with Sarah Burton. She is clearly guilty; but the law, in these times of progress, disdains to pursue the guilty. Their crimes are known; and of what use can it be to expose those whom every one can see are offenders! No; it is the innocent who have most reason to dread the law.Theycan be put to trouble, cost, vexation and loss, if they cannot be exactly condemned. We see how thousands regard the law in a recent movement inthe legislature, by which suits have been ordered to try the titles of most of the large landed proprietors, with the very honest and modest proposal annexed, that their cases shall be prejudged, and the landlords deprived of the means of defending themselves, by sequestering their rents! Everybody says this is the freest country on earth; the only country that is truly free; but we must be permitted to say, that such a law, like twenty more that have been passed in the same interest within the last ten years, savours a good deal of the character of a Ukase.
Our characters, with the exception of McBrain and his bride, were now assembled at Rattletrap. Dunscomb had ascertained all it was necessary to know concerning Mildred, and had taken the steps necessary to protect her. Of her qualified insanity he did not entertain a doubt; though it was a madness so concealed by the blandishments of education and the graces of a refined woman, that few saw it, and fewer still wished to believe it true. On most subjects this unhappy lady was clear-minded and intelligent enough, more especially on that of money; for, while her expenditures were generous, and her largesses most liberal, she manifested wonderful sagacity in taking care of her property. It was this circumstance that rendered it so difficult to take any steps to deprive her of its control; though Dunscomb had seen enough, in the course of the recent trial, to satisfy him that such a measure ought to be resorted to in the interest of her own character.
It was in cunning, and in all the low propensities connected with that miserable quality, that Mildred Millington, as she now insisted on calling herself, most betrayed her infirmity. Many instances of it have been incidentally related in the course of our narrative, however unpleasant such an exhibition has been. There is nothing more repugnant to the principles or tastes of the right thinking and right feeling, than the practices which cunning engenders. Timms, however, was a most willing agentin all the schemes of his client; though some of her projects had puzzled him by their elaborate duplicity, as much as they had astounded him by their boldness. These were the schemes that had their origin in obliquity of mind. Still, they were not without merit in the eyes of Timms, who was cunning without being mad.
Before quitting Biberry, Timms was liberally paid and dismissed. Dunscomb explained to him the situation of his handsome client, without adverting to the state of her mind; when the attorney at once caught at the chances of a divorce. Among the other “ways of the hour,” that of dissolving the marriage tie has got to be a sort of fashionable mania. Neither time, nor duties, nor children, seem to interpose any material obstacle; and, if our own laws do not afford the required facilities, those of some of our more liberal neighbours do. Timms keeps this principle in his mind, and is at this moment ruminating on the means by which he can liberate his late client from her present chains, and bind her anew in some of his own forging. It is scarcely necessary to add, that Mildred troubles herself very little in the premises, so far as this covert lover is concerned.
The ridicule of Williams was, at first, the sorest portion of Timms’s disappointment. Bachelors alike, and rivals for popular favour, these two worthies had long been looking out for advantageous marriages. Each had the sagacity to see that his chances of making a more and more eligible connexion were increasing slowly, and that it was a great thing for a rising man to ascend without dragging after him a wife chosen from among those that prop the base of the great social ladder. It was nuts to one of these competitors for the smiles of the ladies to discover that his rival was in love with a married woman; and this so much the more, because the prospects of Timms’s success, arising from his seeming intimacy with the fair occupant of the gaol, had given Williams a very serious fright. Place two men in competition,no matter in what, and all their energies become concentrated in rivalry. Again and again, had these two individuals betrayed their mutual jealousy; and now that one of them had placed himself in a position so false, not to say ridiculous, the other did not fail to enjoy his disappointment to the top of his bent. It was in this manner that Saucy Williams took his revenge for the defeat in the trial.
Mrs. Gott was also at Rattletrap. Dunscomb retained much of his original tenderness for Mildred, the grandmother of his guest of that name, and he granted her descendant every indulgence she could ask. Among other things, one of the requests of the liberated prisoner was to be permitted to manifest this sense of her gratitude for the many acts of kindness received from the wife of the sheriff. Gott, accordingly, was left to take care of himself, while his nice little companion was transported to a scene that she found altogether novel, or a temporary residence in a gentleman’s dwelling. Sarah’s housekeeping, Sarah’s good nature, attentions, neatness, attire and attractions, would have been themes to monopolize all of the good little woman’s admiration, had not Anna Updyke, then on a visit at Rattletrap, quite fairly come in for her full share. She might almost be said to be in love with both.
It was just after breakfast that Mildred locked an arm in that of Anna, and led her young friend by one of the wooded paths that runs along the shores of the Hudson, terminating in a summer-house, with a most glorious view. In this, there was nothing remarkable; the eye rarely resting on any of the ‘bits’ that adorn the banks of that noble stream, without taking in beauties to enchant it. But to all these our two lovely young women were momentarily as insensible as they were to the fact that their own charming forms, floating among shrubbery as fragrant as themselves, added in no slight degree to the beauty of the scene. In manner, Mildred was earnest, if not ardent, anda little excited; on the other hand, Anna was placid, though sensitive; changing colour without ceasing, as her thoughts were drawn nearer and nearer to that theme which now included the great object of her existence.
“Your uncle brought me letters from town last evening, Anna dear,” commenced the liberated lady: “one of them is from Mons. de Larocheforte. Is that not strange?”
“What is there so strange in a husband’s writing to his wife? To me, it seems the most natural thing in the world.”
“It does?—I am surprised to hear you say so—you, Anna, whom I regarded as so truly my friend. I have discarded Mons. de Larocheforte, and he ought to respect my pleasure.”
“It would have been better, my dear mamma, had you discarded him before marriage, instead of after.”
“Ah—your dear mamma, indeed! I was your school mamma, Anna, and well had it been for me had I been left to finish my education in my own country. Then, I should have escaped this most unfortunate marriage! Do not marry, Anna—take my advice, and never marry. Matrimony is unsuited to ladies.”
“How long have you been of this opinion, dear mamma?” asked the young girl, smiling.
“Just as long as I have been made to feel how it crushes a woman’s independence, and how completely it gives her a master, and how very, very humiliating and depressing is the bondage it inflicts. Do you not feel the force of my reasons?”
“I confess I do not,” answered Anna, in a subdued, yet clear and distinct voice. “I see nothing humiliating or depressing in a woman’s submission to her husband. It is the law of nature, and why should we wish to alter it? My mother has ever inculcated such opinions, and you will excuse me if I say I think the bible does, also.”
“The bible!—Yes, that is a good book, though I am afraid it is very little read in France. I ought, perhaps, to say, ‘readvery little by strangers resident in France.’ The French women, themselves, are not one half as negligent of their duties, in this respect, as are the strangers who go to reside among them. When the roots, that have grown to any size in their native soil, are violently transplanted to another, it is not often that the tree obtains its proper dimensions and grace. I wish I had never seen France, Anna, in which case I should never have been Mad. de Larocheforte—vicomtesse, by the old law, and I am afraid it was that idle appellation that entrapped me. How much more truly respectable I should have been as Mrs. John Smith, or Mrs. John Brown, or Mrs. David Smith, the wife of a countryman, if I must be a wife, at all!”
“Choose at least some name of higher pretension,” said Anna, laughing. “Why not a Mrs. Van Rensselaer, or a Mrs. Van Cortlandt, or a Mrs. Livingston, or a Mrs. Somebody else, of one of our good old families?”
“Families!—Do you know, child, it is treason to talk of families in this age of anti-rentism. They tell me that the man who makes an estate, may enjoy it, should he happen to know how, and this, though he may have cheated all he ever dealt with, in order to become rich; but, that he who inherits an estate, has no claim. It is his tenants who have the high moral claim to his father’s property.”
“I know nothing of all this, and would rather talk of things I understand.”
“By which you mean wedlock, and its cares! No, my dear, you little understand what matrimony is, or how much humiliation is required of us women to become wives, or you would never think of marrying.”
“I have never told you that Idothink of marrying—that is, not much.”
“There spoke your honest nature, which will not permit even an unintended deception. This it was that so much attached meto you as a child; for, though I am not very ingenuous myself, I can admire the quality in another.”
“This admission does not exactly prove the truth of your words, mamma!” said Anna, smiling.
“No matter—let us talk of matrimony. Has John Wilmeter proposed to you, Anna?”
This was a home question; no wonder the young lady started. After a short, musing pause, however, the native candour of Anna Updyke prevailed, and she admitted that he had.
“Thank you for this confidence; but you must go further. Remember, I am your mamma. Is the gentleman accepted?”
A rosy blush, succeeded by a nod of the head, was the answer.
“I am sorry I was not consulted, before all this happened; though I have managed my own matters so ill, as to have very few claims to your confidence. You scarce know what you undertake, my child.”
“I undertake to become Jack Wilmeter’s wife,” answered the betrothed, in a very low but a very firm voice; “and I hope I shall make him a good one. Most of all, do I pray to be obedient and submissive.”
“To no man that breathes, Anna!—no, to no man breathing! It istheirbusiness to submit tous; not we to them!”
“This is not my reading of the great rule of woman’s conduct. In my view of our duties, it is the part of woman to be affectionate, mild, patient and sympathizing,—if necessary, forgiving. I firmly believe that, in the end, such a woman cannot fail to be as happy as is permitted to us to be, here on earth.”
“Forgiving!” repeated Mildred, her eyes flashing; “yes,thatthatis a word often used, yet how few truly practise itsteachings.teachings.Why should I forgive any one that has wronged me? Our nature tells us to resent, to punish, if necessary, as you say—to revenge.”
A slight shudder passed through the frame of Anna, and sheunconsciously moved farther from her companion, though their aims still continued locked.
“There must be a great difference between France and America, if revenge is ever taught to a woman, as a part of her duty,” returned the younger female, now speaking with an earnestness she had not before betrayed; “here, we are told that Christianity forbids the very thought of it, and that to forgive is among the very first of our duties. My great instructor in such things, has told me that one of the surest evidences of a hopeful state of the feelings, is the banishment of every thing like resentment, and a desire to be at peace with all around us—to have a perception that we love the race as beings of our own wants and hopes.”
“Is this the sort of love, then, with which you give your hand to young Wilmeter?”
Scarlet is not brighter than was the colour that now glowed in the cheeks of Anna, stole into her temples, and even diffused itself over her neck and chest. To herself it seemed as if her very hands blushed. Then the power of innocence came to sustain her, and she became calm and steady.
“It isnotthe feeling with which I shall marry John,” she said. “Nature has given us another sentiment, and I shall not endeavour to be superior to all of my sex and class. I love John Wilmeter, I own; and I hope to make him happy.”
“To be a dutiful, obedient wife, for ever studying his tastes and caprices!”
“I trust I shall not befor everstudying the indulgence of my own. I see nothing degrading to a woman, in her filling the place nature and Christianity have assigned to her, and in her doing her duty, as a wife.”
“These are notmyfeelings, receiving your terms as you wish them to be understood. But several have told me I ought never to have married; I myself know that I should have been an American, and not a French wife.”
“I have ever heard that greater latitude is given to our sex, in France, than in this country.”
“That is true in part only. Nothing can exceed theretenueof a French girl, or anything that is decent exceed the want of it that is manifested by many Americans. On the other hand, a married woman here, has no privileges at all, not even in society; while in France, under an air of great seeming propriety, she does very much as she sees fit. It is a mistake, however, to suppose that faithful wives, and devoted mothers, most especially the last, are not to be found all over Europe—in France, in particular.”
“I am glad to hear it,” cried Anna, with a really gratified air; “it gives me pleasure when I hear of any of our sex behaving as they should behave.”
“Should behave! I fear, Anna, a little covert reproach is intended, in that remark. Our estimate of the conduct of our friends must depend on our notions of our own duties. Now, hearken to my manner of reasoning on this subject. In a physical sense, man is strong, woman is weak; while, in a moral sense, woman is strong and man is weak. You admit my premises?”
“The first part of them, certainly,” said Anna, laughing, “while I pretend to no knowledge of the last.”
“You surely do not believe that John Wilmeter is as pure, ingenuous, good, as you are yourself?”
“I see no reason why he should not be. I am far from certain Jack is not even better.”
“It is useless to discuss such a subject with you. The principle of pride is wanting, without which you can never enter into my feelings.”
“I am glad it is so. I fancy John will be all the happier for it. Ah! my dear mamma, I never knew any good come of what you call this ‘principle of pride.’ We are told to be humbleand not to be proud. It may be all the better for us females that rulers are given to us here, in the persons of our husbands.”
“Anna Updyke, do you marry John Wilmeter with the feeling that he is to rule? You overlook the signs of the times, the ways of the hour, child, if you do aught so weak! Look around you, and see how everybody, almost everything, is becoming independent, our sex included. Formerly, as I have heard elderly persons say, if a woman suffered in her domestic relations, she was compelled to suffer all. The quarrel lasted for a life. Now, no one thinks of being so unreasonably wretched. No, the wronged wife, or even the offended wife—Monsieur de Larocheforte snuffs abominably—abominably—yes, abominably—but no wife is obliged, in these times of independence and reason, to endure a snuffy husband——”
“No,” broke in Dunscomb, appearing from an adjoining path, “she has only to pack up her spoons and be off. The Code can never catch her. If it could on one page, my life for it there is a hole for her to get out of its grasp on the next. Your servant, ladies; I have been obliged to overhear more of your conversation than was intended for my ears, perhaps; these paths running so close to each other, and you being so animated—and now, I mean to take an old man’s privilege, and speak my mind. In the first place, I shall deal with the agreeable. Anna, my love, Jack is a lucky fellow—far luckier than he deserves to be. You carry the right sentiment into wedlock. It is the right of the husband to be the head of his family; and the wife who resists his authority is neither prudent nor a Christian. He may abuse it, it is true; but, even then, so long as criminality is escaped, it were better to submit. I approve of every word you have uttered, dear, and thank you for it all in my nephew’s name. And now, Mildred, as one who has a right to advise you, by his avowed love for your grandmother, and recent close connection with yourself, let me tell you what I think of those principles that youavow, and also of the state of things that is so fast growing up in this country. In the first place, he is no true friend of your sex who teaches it this doctrine of independence. I should think—it is true, I am only a bachelor, and have no experience to back me—but, I should think that a woman who truly loves her husband, would find a delight in her dependence——”
“Oh! certainly!” exclaimed Anna—biting her tongue at the next instant, and blushing scarlet at her own temerity.
“I understand you, child, and approve again—but there comes Jack, and I shall have to turn you over to him, that you may receive a good scolding from head-quarters, for this abject servitude feeling, that you have betrayed. Go—go—his arm is held out already—and harkee, young folk, remember that a new maxim in morals has come in with the Code—‘Principles depend on Circumstances.’ That is the rule of conduct now-a-days—that, and anti-rentism, and ‘republican simplicity,’ and the ‘cup-and-saucerlaw,’law,’and—and—yes—and the ever-blessed Code!”
Dunscomb was obliged to stop for breath, which gave the young couple an opportunity to walk away. As for Mildred, she stood collected, extremely lady-like in mien, but with a slight degree of hauteur expressed in her countenance.
“And now, sir, that we are alone,” she said, “permit me to inquire whatmypart of the lecture is to be. I trust you will remember, however, that, while I am Mildred Millington by birth, the law which you so much reverence and admire, makes me Madame de Larocheforte.”
“You mean to say that I have the honour of conversing with a married woman?”
“Exactly so, Mr. Dunscomb.”
“I comprehend you, ma’am, and shall respect your position. You are not about to become my niece, and I can claim no right to exceed the bounds of friendship——”
“Nay, my dear sir, I do not wish to say this. You have every right to advise. To me, you have been a steady and well judging friend, and this, in the most trying circumstances. I am ready to hear you, sir, in deference, if not in your beloved humility.”
“That which I have to say refers solely to your own happiness,Mildred.Mildred.Your return to America has, I fear, been most inopportune. Among other innovations that are making on every side of us, even to the verge of the dissolution of civilized society, comes the liberty of woman. Need I tell you, what will be the next step in this downward career?”
“You needs must, Mr. Dunscomb—I do not comprehend you.—What will that step be?”
“Her licentiousness. No woman can throw off the most sacred of all her earthly duties, in this reckless manner, and hope to escape from the doom of her sex. After making a proper allowance for the increase of population, the increase in separated married people is getting to be out of all proportion. Scarce a month passes that one does not hear of some wife who has left her husband, secreted herself with a child perhaps, as you did, in some farm-house, passing by a different name, and struggling for her rights, as she imagines. Trust me, Mildred, all this is as much opposed to nature as it is to prescribed duties. That young woman spoke merely what an inward impulse, that is incorporated with her very being, prompted her to utter. A most excellent mother—oh! what a blessing is that to one of your sex—how necessary, how heavenly, how holy!—an excellent mother has left her in ignorance of no one duty, andherhercharacter has been formed in what I shall term harmony with her sex. I must be plain, Mildred—you have not enjoyed this advantage. Deprived of your parent young, known to be rich, and transplanted to another soil, your education has necessarily been entrusted to hirelings, flatterers, or persons indifferent toyour real well-being; those who have consulted most the reputation of their instruction, and have paid the most attention to those arts which soonest strike the eye, and most readily attract admiration. In this, their success has been complete.”
“While you think it has not been so much so, sir, in more material things?” said the lady, haughtily.
“Let me be sincere. It is due to my relation to you—to your grandmother—to the past—to the present time. I know the blood that runs in your veins, Mildred. You are self-willed by descent, rich by inheritance, independent by the folly of our legislators. Accident has brought you home, at the very moment when our ill-considered laws are unhinging society in many of its most sacred interests; and, consulting only an innate propensity, you have ventured to separate from your husband, to conceal yourself in a cottage, a measure, I dare say, that comported well with your love of the romantic——”
“Not so—I was oppressed, annoyed, unhappy at home, and sought refuge in that cottage. Mons. de Larocheforte has such a passion for snuff!—He uses it night and day.”
“Then followed the serious consequences which involved you in so many fearful dangers——”
“True,” interrupted the lady, laying her small, gloved hand hastily on his arm—“very true, dear Mr. Dunscomb; but how cleverly I contrived to escape them all!—how well I managed your Mr. Timms, good Mrs. Gott, the puffy, pompous sheriff, that wily Williams too, whose palm felt the influence of my gold—oh! the excitement of the last two months has been a gift of paradise to me, and, for the first time since my marriage, have I known what true happiness was!”
Dunscomb turned, astonished, to his companion, and stared her in the face. Never was the countenance more lovely to the cursory glance, the eye brighter, the cheek with a richer glow on it, or the whole air, mien and attitude more replete withwomanly loveliness, and womanly graces; but the observant eye of the lawyer penetrated beyond all these, and detected the unhappy spirit which had gained possession of a tenement so lovely. The expression of the countenance denoted the very triumph of cunning. We pretend not to a knowledge of the arcana of nature, to be able to detect the manner in which the moving principles prompt to good or evil, but we must reject all sacred history, and no small portion of profane, not to believe that agencies exist that are not visible to our ordinary senses; and that our boasted reason, when abandoned to its own support, becomes the victim of those that are malign. We care not by what names these agents are called, imps, demons, evil spirits, or evil passions; but this we do know, let him beware who submits to their control. Better, far better, were it that such an one had never been born!
Three days later Mildred Millington was in a state that left no doubt of her infirmity. The lucid intervals were long, however, and at such times her mind seemed clear enough on all subjects but one. Divorce was her “ruling passion,” and, in order to effect her purpose, all the extraordinary ingenuity of a most fertile mind was put in requisition. Although means were promptly, but cautiously, taken to see that she did not squander her large pecuniary resources, Dunscomb early saw that they were uncalled for. Few persons were better qualified to look after their money than was this unfortunate lady, in the midst of the dire visitation that intellectually reduced her below the level of most around her. On this head her sagacity was of proof; though her hand was not closed in the gripe of a miser. Accustomed, from childhood, to a liberal expenditure, she was willing still to use the means that an inscrutable Providence had so liberally placed in her way, her largesses and her charities continuing the same as ever. Down to the present moment the fund-holder, the owner of town property, the mortgagee, and thetrader is allowed to enjoy his own, without any direct interference of the demagogue with his rights; but how much longer this exception is to last, is known only to the Being who directs the destinies of nations; or, at least, not to any who are now on earth, surrounded equally by the infirmities and ignorance of the present state.
But Mildred was, and is yet, permitted to exercise her rights over her own property, though care is had to see that no undue advantage is taken of her sex, years, and ignorance. Beyond this her control was not disputed, and she was suffered to manage her own affairs. She set about the matter of a divorce with the whole energy of her nature, and the cunning of her malady. Timms was again summoned to her service, unknown to Dunscomb, who would never have winked at the measures that were taken, though so much in accordance with “the ways of the hour.”
Provided with proper credentials, this managing agent sought an interview with Mons. de Larocheforte, a worn-out debauchee of some rank, who, sooth to say, had faults even graver than that of taking snuff. Notwithstanding the great personal attractions of Mildred, the motive for marrying her had been money: as is usually the case in a very great proportion of the connections of the old world, among persons of condition. Love is to succeed, and not to precede, matrimony. Mildred had been taught that lesson, and grievously had she been disappointed. The snuff got into her eyes. Mons. de Larocheforte—Mons. le Vicomte as he had been, and was still determined to be, and in all probability will be, in spite of all the French “republican simplicity” that was ever summoned to a nation’s rescue—Mons. le Vicomte was directly approached by Timms, and a proposal made that he should put himself in a condition to be divorced, for a stipulated price. Notwithstanding the opinion of the learned Attorney-General of this great state, of the European aristocracy, andwho is so every way qualified to give such an opinion,ex officioas it might be, Mons. de Larocheforte declined lending himself to so vile a proposition, Frenchman and noble as he was. Nor did the husband believe that the discreditable proposal came from his wife. He compelled Timms to admit as much, under a menace of losing his case. That worthy was puzzled at this result, for he had made the proposal on his “own hook,” as he afterwards explained the matter to Williams, in the fullest confidence of “republican simplicity,” and was astonished at meeting with the self-respect of a gentleman, if with no very elevated principles in a nobleman! It was accordingly necessary to have recourse to some other mode of proceeding.
Luckily for the views of Timms and his fair client, one can scarcely go amiss in this country, when a divorce is desired. Although a few of the older states remain reasonably inflexible on this subject, in some respectsunreasonablyso, indeed, they are generally surrounded by communities that are more indulgent. By means of somehocus pocusof the law, that we pretend not to explain, the names of Gabriel Jules Vincent Jean Baptiste de Larocheforte ads. Mildred de Larocheforte, were just beginning to steal on the dawn of the newspapers, in a case that, ere long, might blaze in the meridian of gossip.
Dunscomb frowned, and reproached, but it was too late to recede. He has told Mildred, and he has told Timms, that nuptial knots tied in one community, cannot be so readily unloosed in another, as many imagine; and that there must, at least, be good faith—theanimus revertendi—in the change of residence that usually precedes the application. But money is very powerful, and smooths a thousand difficulties. No one could predict the termination; and, as the vicomte, though only to be approached in a more delicate way than that adopted by Timms, was as tired of the connection as his wife, and was very anxious to obtain a larger share of the fortune than the “cup and saucer” law will givehim, it was by no means improbable that the end of the affair would be a quasi divorce, that would at least enable each party to take his or her own course, without fear of molestation from the other.
In the mean time, Millington was married very shortly after the trial. The engagement had not been long, but the parties had known each other intimately for years. The bridegroom, in one sense, was the head of his family, though by no means possessed of its largest fortune. In this character, it devolved on him to care for the interests of his fair relative. Although as much opposed as Dunscomb to the course she was taking, he did not shrink from his duties as a relative; and it is understood that his house is Mildred’s home when in town. Rattletrap opened its hospitable doors to the unfortunate woman, whenever she chose to visit the place; and Timbully has also claims on her time and presence.
Dunscomb announced his intention to retire from practice at the end of a twelvemonth, the morning that Michael and Sarah were married. In the intervening time, John Wilmeter and his new nephew were received as partners, and the worthy bachelor is now sedulously but silently transferring as respectable and profitable a list of clients, as any man in the courts can claim. His own advice is promised, at all times, to his old friends; and, as not a soul has objected, and the young men bid fair, there is every reason to hope that useful and profitable labour will keep both out of mischief.