the Ohio river, a dozen miles or so below Wheeling; his dwelling is a massive one, of stone, two stories in height, and dingy from the smoke of bituminous coal, which is the chief fuel of that region; after the fashion which prevails thereabout, it has a passage through the centre from front to rear, and is destitute of the embellishment of frieze, or cornice, or even a porch, except we concede that respectable appellation to a platform projected before the front entrance, and flanked with a bench on each side. Good faith, it bears that appellation whether we concede it or not, and architecture among rustics must submit to just such names as they please to give it. I will not assert that there is anything particularly pretty or romantic in the situation of the elder's domicile-for Mr. Tub, be it reverently kept in mind, is an eldernothing less-except there be prettiness or romance in a straight reach of river with naked banks, a straight line of post-andrail fence, and a straight unshaded road between. Little, however, cares our respectable acquaintance, Mr. Tub, about the What chiefly mere poetry of such matters. engages his concern is a broad belt of rich alluvial formation between the river and the upland slopes, which to his matter-of-fact mind suggests ideas of tall corn and fat swine, something more substantial, I trow, than architectural gewgaws, or scene-struck sentimentalities. There is, nevertheless, an object near at hand which well deserves a passing notice. Near the large and naked trunk of an old elm that leans over the water, and whose roots, on the side next the river, are washed bare by the attrition of the current, an oblong stone set into the ground, and projecting some three feet above it, is found to bear the following rudely chiselled inscription: SACRED to the memory of twenty-six gallant men, Here, if the old elm were still in the pride of its foliage, the traveller might be well content to stop under its shadow, and rekindle the embers of his patriotism with the memories of bygone days; the trials and dangers encountered by the adventurous pioneers of the western wilderness. No life of courtly dalliance was theirs-not theirs the feebleness of body and mind resulting from luxurious sloth. The policy of insurance upon each man's life consisted of his customs, his sinews, his trusty rifle, and his hunting blade. Our hero himself is not indifferent to the associations of this hallowed spot; on the contrary, the interests thereof are said to make their way to his heart through the plaits of fat in which it is so thickly encased; and this may well be believed, since among the band of heroes thus epitaphed repose the ashes of his father, Epaphroditus Tub. Our friend Tub keeps a store and tavern convenient to the public road, where, reader, he will at any time be happy to see and serve you, on terms as honest as times will allow. I insert this advertisement for him gratis, for he is a very pious man, is elder Tub, very, and—ahem! moderately honest, too, as times go. At all events, if he ever overcharges, or is beguiled by the temptations of the devil into frauds of any kind, he repents of it afterwards, or means to before he dies--and what more can piety require of any man? Perhaps, for no human being is wholly exempt from failings, perhaps, I say, Mr. Tub may have slightly erred in the following important particular. There is a maxim in hackneyed use which advises, "Get along honestly in life if you can-if you cannot honestly, get along anyhow." Now it chanced to comport best with Elder Tub's notions of prudence to take this precept the tail-end foremost-he tried the anyhow first, and judged that when he should get rich at that, he could then better afford to practise honesty afterward. There is spiritual economy, too, in this arrangement, he thought, for, in after life, when preparing for heaven by a repentance of past misdeeds, it will be found easier resisting the devil with a full pocket than with an empty one, and easier obtaining clerical assistance into the bargain. However that may be, the reader is earnestly advised not to make the experiment, since, amongst the numerous inconveniences by which the anyhow course is attended, not the least is that habits are thereby formed which it will task all the prudence and piety of after years to overcome. Let, then, HONESTY, FIRST, LAST, AND MIDST, be the reader's motto and governing principle through life. Even the godly Mr. Tub has sore experience of the evil arising from long practice on the anyhow principle; a sore straining of his conscience does he find it to do, in any instance, the exactly honest thing. How, then, ought the godless, who have not the advantage of having been born again, as has elder Tub, take warning from his sad example. But this, mind you, reader, is not to be construed as implying anything to the disparagement of Mr. Tub's character Godward-by no manner of means-his piety still remains immaculate. If other evidence of that were wanting, this would suffice, |