t the accused.

Poor Wheelwright! During the whole of the scene just described, he sat
upon one of the benches, his eyes cast upon the floor, without uttering
a word. When called upon, however, to answer to the charge, he could
only deny, and try to explain--but Mistress Pettit and her associates
were too much for him. And besides, deny having molested her nose, as
he might, the aspect of the member itself bore abundant testimony of
rough usage and a narrow escape--to say nothing of the crimson drops,
that seemed to have oozed therefrom, and fallen upon good Mistress
Pettit's neck-handkerchief. The consequence was, that the magistrate
could do no less than commit him, although from Wheelwright's subdued
demeanor, he had strong doubts as to his intentional delinquencies.
Under these circumstances, I found but little difficulty, from my own
knowledge of the man, in persuading the magistrate to release him on
his own recognizance.

* * * * *

In a few weeks afterward, Wheelwright ascertained that the always
equivocal virtue of his wife had become of so little consequence in her
own eyes, as to release him from any farther obligation, in honor or in
law, to stand any longer as its nominal guardian and protector. He
divided the children, giving her the one to which she had a fair title
before he courted her fortune,--but which, poor thing!--proved to be
all she had,--and took the only one now living, which bore his own
name, to himself. He also at length assumed sufficient energy to divide
the house between them--giving her the _out_-side and retaining the
_in_-side for himself. Thus ends the history of Doctor Daniel
Wheelwright in New-York.

* * * * *

"It is the end," says the Bard of Avon, "that crowns all;" and bringing
these "passages" in the life of my friend to a close, from the position
in which I shall leave him, the reader may perhaps agree with the same
illustrious poet:--

"More are men's ends mark'd than their lives before."

At all events, we will "let the end try the man." The latest
intelligence which I can furnish the reader respecting him, however, is
this. Having recently made a flying excursion through the valley of the
Mohawk--visited the old baronial castle of Sir William Johnson, and
from thence struck across to the south through the Schoharie-kill
valley, to explore the wonders of the great cavern of the Helder