4 Cit. We 'll hear the will: Read it, Mark Antony.

Cit. The will, the will; we will hear Caesar's will.

Ant. Have patience, gentle friends, I must not read it;
It is not meet you know how Caesar loved you.

Julius Caesar.

There is usually great haste, in this country, in getting rid of the dead. In no other part of the world, with which we are acquainted, are funerals so simple, or so touching; placing the judgment and sins which lead to it, in a far more conspicuous light than rank, or riches, or personal merits. Scarfs and gloves are given in town, and gloves in the country, though scarfs are rare; but, beyond these, and the pall, and the hearse, and the weeping friends, an American funeral is a very unpretending procession of persons in their best attire; on foot, when the distance is short; in carriages, in wagons, and on horseback, when the grave is far from the dwelling. There is, however, one feature connected with a death in this country, that we could gladly see altered. It is the almost indecent haste; which so generally prevails, to get rid of the dead. Doubtless the climate has had an effect in establishing this custom; but the climate, by no means, exacts the precipitancy that is usually practised.

As there were so many friends from a distance present, some of whom took the control of affairs, Mary shrinking back into herself, with a timidity natural to her sex and years, the moment her care could no longer serve her uncle, the funeral of the deacon took place the day after that of his death. It was the solemn and simple ceremony of the country. The Rev. Mr. Whittle conceived that he ought to preach a sermon on the occasion of the extinguishment of this "bright and shining light," and the body was carried to the meeting-house, where the whole congregation assembled, it being the Sabbath. We cannot say much for the discourse, which had already served as eulogiums on two or three other deacons, with a simple subsittution of names. In few things are the credulous more imposed on than in this article of sermons. A clergyman shall preach the workings of other men's brains for years, and not one of his hearers detect the imposition, purely on account of the confiding credit it is customary to yield to the pulpit. In this respect, preaching is very much like reviewing,--the listener, or the reader, being too complaisant to see through the great standing mystifications of either. Yet preaching is a work of high importance to men, and one that doubtless accomplishes great good, more especially when the life of the preacher corresponds with his doctrine; and even reviewing, though infinitely of less moment, might be made a very useful art, in the hands of upright, independent, intelligent, and learned men. But nothing in this world is as it should be, and centuries will probably roll over it ere the "good time" shall really come!

The day of the funeral being the Sabbath, nothing that touched on business was referred to. On the following morning, however, "the friends" assembled early in the parlour, and an excuse for being a little pressing was made, on the ground that so many present had so far to go. The deacon had probably made a remove much more distant than any that awaited his relatives.

"It is right to look a little into the deacon's matters before we separate," said Mr. Job Pratt, who, if he had the name, had not the patience of him of old, "in order to save trouble and hard feelings. Among relatives and friends there should be nothing but confidence and affection, and I am sure I have no other sentiments toward any here. I suppose"--all Mr. Job Pratt knew, was ever on a supposition--"I suppose I am the proper person to administer to the deacon's property, though I don't wish to do it, if there's the least objection."

Every one assented that he was the most proper person, for all knew he was the individual the surrogate would be the most likely to appoint.

"I have never set down the deacon's property as anything like what common report makes it," resumed Mr. Job Pratt; "though I do suppose it will fully reach ten thousand dollars."

"La!" exclaimed a female cousin, and a widow, who had expectations of her own, "I'd always thought Deacon Pratt worth forty or fifty thousand dollars! Ten thousand dollars won't make much for each of us, divided up among so many folks!"

"The division will not be so very great, Mrs. Martin," returned Mr. Job, "as it will be confined to the next of kin and their representatives. Unless a will should be found--and, by all I can learn, there is none"--emphasizing the last word with point--"unless a will be found, the whole estate, real and personal, must be divided into just five shares; which, accordin' to my calculation, would make about two thousand dollars a share. No great fortin, to be sure; though a comfortable addition to small means. The deacon was cluss (Anglice, close); yes, he was cluss--all the Pratts are a little given to be cluss; but I don't know that they are any the worse for it. It is well to be curful (careful) of one's means, which are a trust given to us by Divine Providence."

In this manner did Mr. Job Pratt often quiet his conscience for being as "curful" of his own as of other person's assets. Divine Providence, according to his morality, made it as much a duty to transfer the dollar that was in his neighbour's pocket to his own, as to watch it vigilantly after the transposition has been effected.

"A body should be curful, as you say, sir," returned the Widow Martin; "and for that reason I should like to know if there isn't a will. I know the deacon set store by me, and I can hardly think he has departed for another world without bethinking him of his cousin Jenny, and of her widowhood."

"I'm afraid he has, Mrs. Martin--really afraid he has. I can hear of no will. The doctor says he doubts if the deacon could ever muster courage to write anything about his own death, and that he has never heard of any will. I understand Mary, that she has no knowledge of any will; and I do not know where else to turn, in order to inquire. Rev. Mr. Whittle thinks there is a will, I ought to say."

"There must be a will," returned the parson, who was on the ground again early, and on this very errand; "I feel certain of that from the many conversations I have held with the deceased. It is not a month since I spoke to him of divers repairs that were necessary to each and all of the parish buildings, including the parsonage. He agreed to every word I said--admitted that we could not get on another winter without a new horse-shed; and that the east end of the parsonage ought to be shingled this coming summer."

"All of which may be; very true, parson, without the deacon's making a will," quietly, and we may now add patiently, observed Mr. Job.

"I don't think so," returned the minister, with a warmth that might have been deemed indiscreet, did it not relate to the horse-shed, the parsonage, and the meeting-house, all of which were public property, rather than to anything in which he had a more direct legal interest. "A pious member of the church would hardly hold out the hopes that Deacon Pratt has held out to me, for more than two years without meaning to make his words good in the end. I think all will agree with me in that opinion."

"Did the deacon, then, go so far as to promise to do any thing?" asked Mr. Job, a little timidly; for he was by no means sure the answer might not be in the affirmative, in which case he anticipated the worst.

"Perhaps not," answered Minister Whittle, too conscientious to tell a Downright lie, though sorely tempted so to do. "But a man may promise indirectly, as well as directly. When I have a thing much at heart, and converse often about it with a person who can grant all I wish, and that person, listens as attentively as I could wish him to do, I regard that as a promise; and, in church matters, one of a very solemn nature."

All the Jesuits in the world do not get their educations at Rome, or acknowledge Ignatius Loyola as the great founder of their order. Some are to be found who have never made a public profession of their faith and zeal, have naver assumed the tonsure, or taken the vows.

"That's as folks think," quietly returned Mr. Job Pratt, though he smiled in a manner so significant as to cause Mrs. Martin a new qualm, as she grew more and more apprehensive that the property was, after all, to go by the distribution law. "Some folks think a promise ought to be expressed, while others think it may be understood. The law, I believe, commonly looks for the direct expression of any binding promise; and, in matters of this sort, one made in writing, too, and that under a seal, and before three responsible witnesses."

"I wish a full inquiry might be made, to ascertain if there be no will;" put in the minister, anxiously.

"I'm quite willing so to do," returned Mr. Job, whose confidence and moral courage increased each instant. "Quite willing; and am rather anxious for it, if I could only see where to go to inquire."

"Does no one present know of any will made by the deceased?" demanded Minister Whittle, authoritatively.

A dead silence succeeded to the question. Eye met eye, and there was great disappointment among the numerous collaterals present, including all those who did not come in as next of kin, or as their direct representatives. But the Rev. Mr. Whittle had been too long and too keenly on the scent of a legacy, to be thrown out of the hunt, just as he believed the game was coming in sight.

"It might be well to question each near relative directly," he added. "Mr. Job Pratt, do you know nothing of any will?"

"Nothing whatever. At one time I did think the deacon meant to make his testament; but I conclude that he must have changed his mind."

"And you, Mrs. Thomas," turning to the sister--"as next of kin, I make the same inquiry of you!"

"I once talked with brother about it," answered this relative, who was working away in a rocking-chair as if she thought the earth might stop in its orbit, if she herself ceased to keep in motion; "but he gave me no satisfactory answer--that is, nothin' that I call satisfactory. Had he told me he had made a will, and given me a full shear (share), I should have been content; or, had he told me that he had not made a will, and that the law would give me a full shear, I should have been content. I look upon myself as a person easily satisfied."

This was being explicit, and left little more to be obtained from the deacon's beloved and only surviving sister.

"And you, Mary; do you know anything of a will made by your uncle?"

Mary shook her head; but there was no smile on her features, for the scene was unpleasant to her.

"Then no one present knows of any paper that the deacon left specially to be opened after his death?" demanded Rev. Mr. Whittle, putting the general question pretty much at random.

"A paper!" cried Mary, hastily. "Yes, I know something of a paper--I thought you spoke of a will."

"A will is commonly written on paper, now-a-days, Miss Mary--but, you have a paper?"

"Uncle gave me a paper, and told me to keep till Roswell Gardiner came back; and, if he himself should not then be living, to give it to him"--The colour now mounted to the very temples of the pretty girl, and she seemed to speak with greater deliberation and care. "As I was to give the paper to Roswell, I have always thought it related to him. My uncle spoke of it to me as lately as the day of his death."

"That's the will, beyond a doubt!" cried Rev. Mr. Whittle; with more exultation than became his profession and professions--"Do you not think this may be Deacon Pratt's will, Miss Mary?"

Now Mary had never thought any such thing. She knew that her uncle much wished her to marry Roswell, and had all along fancied that the paper she held, which indeed was contained in an envelop addressed to her lover, contained some expression of his wishes on this to her the most interesting of all subjects, and nothing else. Mary Pratt thought very little of her uncle's property, and still less of its future disposition, while she thought a great deal of Roswell Gardiner and of his suit. It was, consequently, the most natural thing in the world that she should have fallen into some such error as this. But, now that the subject was brought to her mind in this new light, she arose, went to her own room, and soon re-appeared with the paper in her hand. Both Mr. Job Pratt and Rev. Mr. Whittle offered to relieve her of the burthen; and the former, by a pretty decided movement, did actually succeed in getting possession of the documents. The papers were done up in the form of a large business letter, Was duly sealed with wax, and was addressed to "Mr. Roswell Gardiner, Master of the Schooner Sea Lion, now absent on a voyage." The superscription was read aloud, a little under the influence of surprise; notwithstanding which, Mr. Job Pratt was very coolly proceeding to open the packet, precisely as if it had been addressed to himself. In this decided step, Mrs. Martin, and Mrs. Thomas, and Rev. Mr. Whittle, might be set down as accessories before the act; for each approached; and so eager were the two women, that they actually assisted in breaking the seal.

"If that letter is addressed to me," said Roswell Gardiner, with firmness and authority, "I claim the right to open it myself. It is unusual for those to whom a letter is not addressed to assume this office."

"But, it comes from Deacon Pratt," cried the widow Martin, "and may contain his will."

"In which case, a body would think I have some rights concerned," said Mr. Job Pratt, a little more coolly, but with manifest doubts.

"Sartain!" put in Mrs. Thomas. "Brothers and sisters, and even cousins, come before strangers, any day. Here we are, a brother and sister of the deacon, and we ought to have a right to read his letters."

All this time Roswell had stood with an extended arm, and an eye that caused Mr. Job Pratt to control his impatience. Mary advanced close to his side, as if to sustain him, but she said nothing.

"There is a law, with severe penalties, against knowingly opening a letter addressed to another," resumed Roswell, steadily; "and it shall be enforced against any one who shall presume to open one of mine. If that letter has my address, sir, I demand it; and I will have it, at every hazard."

Roswell advanced a step nearer Mr. Job Pratt, and the letter was reluctantly yielded; though not until the widow Martin had made a nervous but abortive snatch at it.

"At any rate, it ought to be opened in our presence," put in this woman, "that we may see what is in it."

"And by what right, ma'am? Have I not the privilege of others, to read my own letters when and where I please? If the contents of this, however, do really relate to the late Deacon Pratt's property, I am quite willing they should be made known. There is nothing on this superscription to tell me to open the packet in the presence of witnesses; but, under all the circumstances, I prefer it should be done."

Hereupon Roswell proceeded deliberately to look into the package. The seal was already broken, and he exhibited it in that state to all in the room, with a meaning smile, after which he brought to light and opened some written instrument, that was engrossed on a single sheet of foolscap, and had the names of several witnesses at its bottom.

"Ay, ay, that's it," said Baiting Joe, for the room was crowded with all sorts of people; "that's the dockerment. I know'd it as soon as I laid eyes on it!"

"And what do you know about it, Josy?" demanded the widow, eagerly. "Cousin Job, this man may turn out a most important and considerable witness!"

"What do I know, Mrs. Martin? Why I seed the deacon sign for the seals, and exercute. As soon as I heard Squire Craft, who was down here from Riverhead on that 'ere very business, talk so much about seals, I know'd Captain Gar'ner must have suthin' to do with the matter. The deacon's very heart was in the schooner and her v'y'ge, and I think it was the craft that finished him, in the end."

"Won't that set aside a codicil, cousin Job, if so be the deacon has r'ally codicilled off Captain Gar'ner and Mary?"

"We shall see, we shall see. So you was present, Josy, at the making of a will?"

"Sartain--and was a witness to the insterment, as the squire called it. I s'pose he sent for me to be a witness, as I am some acquainted with the sealin' business, having made two v'y'ges out of Stunnin'tun, many years since. Ay, ay; that's the insterment, and pretty well frightened was the deacon when he put his name to it, I can tell you!"

"Frightened!" echoed the brother--"that's ag'in law, at any rate. The instrument that a man signs because he's frightened, is no instrument at all, in law. As respects a will, it is what we justices of the peace call 'dies non,' or, don't die; that is, in law."

"Can that be so, squire Job?" asked the sister, who had said but little hitherto, but had thought all the more.

"Yes, that's Latin, I s'pose, and good Latin, too, they tell me. A man may be dead in the flesh, but living in law."

"La! how cur'ous! Law is a wonderful thing, to them that understands it."

The worthy Mrs. Thomas expressed a much more profound sentiment than that of which she was probably aware, herself. Law is a wonderful thing, and most wonderful is he who can tell what it is to-day, or is likely to be to-morrow. The law of testamentary devises, in particular, has more than the usual uncertainty, the great interest that is taken by the community in the large estates of certain individuals who are placed without the ordinary social categories by the magnitude of their fortunes, preventing anything from becoming absolutely settled, as respects them. In Turkey, and in America, the possession of great wealth is very apt to ruin their possessors; proscription, in some form or other, being pretty certain to be the consequences. In Turkey, such has long and openly been the fact, the bow-string usually lying at the side of the strong box; but, in this country, the system is in its infancy, though advancing towards maturity with giant strides. Twenty years more, resembling the twenty that are just past, in which the seed recently sown broadcast shall have time to reach maturity, and, in our poor opinion, the great work of demoralization, in this important particular, will be achieved. We are much afraid that the boasted progress, of which we hear so much, will resemble the act of the man who fancied he could teach his horse to live without food--just as he believed the poor beast was perfect, it died of inanition!

Roswell read Baiting Joe's 'insterment' twice, and then he placed it, with manly tenderness; in the hands of Mary. The girl read the document, too, tears starting to her eyes; but, a bright blush suffused her face, as she returned the will to her lover.

"Ah! do not read it now, Roswell," she said, in an under tone; but the stillness and expectation were so profound, that every syllable she uttered was heard by all in the room.

"And why not read it now, Miss Mary!" cried the Widow Martin. "Methinks now is the proper time to read it. If I'm to be codicilled out of that will, I want to know it."

"It is better, in every respect, that the company present should know all that is to be known, at once," observed Mr. Job Pratt. "Before the will is read, if that be the will, Captain Gar'ner--"

"It is the will of the late Deacon Pratt, duly signed, sealed, and witnessed, I believe, sir."

"One word more, then, before it is read. I think you said, Josy, that the deceased was frightened when he signed that will? I do not express any opinion until I hear the will; perhaps a'ter it is read, I shall think or say nothin' about this fright; though the instrument that a man signs because he is frightened, if the fright be what I call a legal fright, is no instrument at all."

"But such was not the deacon's case, Squire Job," put in Baiting Joe, at once. "He did not sign the insterment because he was frightened, but was frightened because he signed the insterment. Let the boat go right eend foremost, squire."

"Read the will, Captain Gar'ner, if you have it," said Mr. Job Pratt, with decision. "It is proper that we should know who is executor. Friends, will you be silent for a moment?"

Amid a death-like stillness, Roswell Gardiner now read as follows:--

"In the name of God, amen. I, Ichabod Pratt, of the town of Southold, and county of Suffolk, and state of New York, being of failing bodily health, but of sound mind, do make and declare this to be my last will and testament.

"I bequeath to my niece, Mary Pratt, only child of my late brother, Israel Pratt, all my real estate, whatsoever it may be, and wheresoever situate, to be held by her, her heirs and assigns, for ever, in fee.

"I bequeath to my brother, Job Pratt, any horse of which I shall die possessed, to be chosen by himself, as a compensation for the injury inflicted on a horse of his, while in my use.

"I bequeath to my sister, Jane Thomas, the large looking-glass that is hanging up in the east bed-room of my house, and which was once the property of our beloved mother.

"I bequeath to the widow Catherine Martin, my cousin, the big pin-cushion in the said east chamber, which she used so much to praise and admire.

"I bequeath to my said niece, Mary Pratt, the only child of my late brother, Israel Pratt, aforesaid, all of my personal estate, whether in possession or existing in equity, including money at use, vessels, stock on farm, all other sorts of stock, furniture, wearing apparel, book-debts, money in hand, and all sorts of personal property whatever.

"I nominate and appoint Roswell Gardiner, now absent on a sealing voyage, in my employment, as the sole executor of this my last will, provided he return home within six months of my decease; and should he not return home within the said six months, then I appoint my above-mentioned niece and heiress, Mary Pratt, the sole executrix of this my will.

"I earnestly advise my said niece, Mary Pratt, to marry the said Roswell Gardiner; but I annex no conditions whatever to this advice, wishing to leave my adopted daughter free to do as she may think best."

The instrument was, in all respects, duly executed, and there could not be a doubt of its entire validity. Mary felt a little bewildered, as well as greatly embarrassed. So perfectly disinterested had been all her care of her uncle, and so humble her wishes, that she did not for some time regard herself as the owner of a property that she had all her life been accustomed to consider as a part of her late uncle. The heirs expectant, "a'ter reading the insterment," as Baiting Joe told his cronies, when he related the circumstances over a mug of cider that evening, "fore and aft, and overhauling it from truck to keelson, give the matter up, as a bad job. They couldn't make nawthin' out of oppersition," continued Joe, "and so they tuck the horse, and the looking-glass, and the pin-cushion, and cleared out with their cargo. You couldn't get one of that breed to leave as much as a pin behind, to which he thought the law would give him a right. Squire Job went off very unwillingly; for so strong was his belief in his claim, that he had made up his mind, as he told me himself, to break up the north meadow, and put it in corn this coming season."

"They say that Minister Whittle took it very hard that nawthin' was said about him, or about meetin', in the deacon's will," observed Jake Davis, one of Baiting Joe's cronies.

"That he did; and he tuck it so hard that everybody allows the two sermons he preached the next Sabba' day to be the very two worst he ever did preach."

"They must have been pretty bad, then," quaintly observed Davis: "I've long set down Minister Whittle's discourses as being a leetle the worst going, when you give him a chance."

It is unnecessary to relate any more of this dialogue, nor should we have given the little we have, did it not virtually explain what actually occurred on the publication of the contents of the will. Roswell met with no opposition in proving the instrument, and the day after he was admitted to act as executor he was married to Mary Pratt, and became tenant, by the courtesy, to all her real estate; such being the law then, though it is so no longer. Now, a man and his wife may have a very pretty family quarrel about the ownership of a dozen tea-spoons, and the last, so far as we can see, may order the first out of one of her rocking chairs, if she see fit! Surely domestic peace is not so trifling a matter that the law should seek to add new subjects of strife to the many that seem to be nearly inseparable from the married state.

Let this be as it may, no such law existed when Roswell Gardiner and Mary Pratt became man and wife. One of the first acts of the happy young couple, after they were united, was to make a suitable disposition of the money found buried at the foot of the tree, on the so-much-talked of key. Its amount was a little more than 2000 dollars, the pirate who made the revelation to Daggett having, in all probability, been ignorant himself of the real sum that had been thus secreted. By a specific bargain with the crew, all this money belonged to the deacon; and, consequently, it had descended to his niece, and through her was now legally the property of Roswell. The young man was not altogether free from scruples about using money that had been originally taken as booty by pirates, and his conscientious wife had still greater objections. After conferring together on the subject, however, and seeing the impossibility of restoring the gold to those from whom it had been forced in the first place, the doubloons were distributed among the families of those who had lost their lives at Sealer's Land. The shares did not amount to much, it is true; but they did good, and cheered the hearts of two or three widows and dependent sisters.

Nor did Roswell Gardiner's care for their welfare stop here. He had the Sea Lion put in good order, removed her decks, raised upon her, and put her in her original condition, and sent her to Sealer's Land, again, under the orders of Hazard, who was instructed to take in all the oil and skins that had been left behind, and to fill up, if he could, without risking too much by delay. All this was successfully done, the schooner coming back, after a very short voyage, and quite full. The money made by this highly successful adventure, had the effect to console several of those who had great cause to regret their previous losses.

As to Roswell and Mary, they had much reason to be content with their lot. The deacon's means were found to be much more considerable than had been supposed. When all was brought into a snug state. Roswell found that his wife was worth more than thirty thousand dollars, a sum which constituted wealth on Oyster Pond, in that day. We have, however, already hinted that the simplicity, and we fear with it the happiness, of the place has departed. A railroad terminates within a short distance of the deacon's old residence, bringing with it the clatter, ambition, and rivalry, of such a mode of travelling. What is even worse, the venerable and expressive name of "Oyster Pond," one that conveys in its very sound the idea of savoury dishes, and an abundance of a certain and a very agreeable sort has been changed to "Orient," Heaven save the mark! Long Island has, hitherto, been famous, in the history of New York, for the homely piquancy of its names, which usually conveyed a graphic idea of the place indicated. It is true, "Jerusalem" cannot boast of its Solomon's Temple, nor "Babylon" of its Hanging Gardens; but, by common consent, it is understood that these two names, and some half-a-dozen more of the same quality, are to be taken by their opposites.

Roswell Gardiner did not let Stimson pass out of his sight, as is customary with seamen when they quit a vessel. He made him master of a sloop that plied between New York and Southold, in which employment the good old man fulfilled his time, leaving to a widowed sister who dwelt with him, the means of a comfortable livelihood, for life.

The only bit of management of which Mary could be accused, was practised by her shortly after Stimson's death, and some six or eight years after her own marriage. One of her school friends, and a relative, had married a person who dwelt 'west of the bridge,' as it is the custom to say of all the counties that lie west of Cayuga Lake. This person, whose name was Hight, had mills, and made large quantities of that excellent flour, that is getting to enjoy its merited reputation even in the old world. He was disposed to form a partnership with Roswell, who sold his property, and migrated to the great west, as the country 'west of the bridge' was then termed, though it is now necessary to go a thousand miles farther, in order to reach what is termed "the western country." Mary had an important agency in bringing about this migration. She had seen certain longings after the ocean, and seals, and whales, in her husband; and did not consider him safe, as long as he could scent the odours of a salt marsh. There is a delight in this fragrance that none can appreciate as thoroughly as those who have enjoyed it in youth; it remains as long as human senses retain their faculties. An increasing family, however, and el dorado of the west, which, in that day, produced wheat, were inducements for a removal there, and, aided by Mary's gentle management, produced the desired effect; and for more than twenty years Roswell Gardiner has been a very successful miller, on a large scale, in one of the western counties of what is called "the Empire State." We do not think the sobriquets of this country very happy, in general, but shall quarrel less with this, than with the phrase of "commercial emporium," which is much as if one should say "a townish town."

Roswell Gardiner has never wavered in his faith, from the time when his feelings were awakened by the just view of his own insignificance, as compared to the power of God! He then learned the first, great lesson in religious belief, that of humility; without which no man can be truly penitent, or truly a Christian. He no longer thought of measuring the Deity with his narrow faculties, or of setting up his blind conclusions, in the face of positive revelations. He saw that all must be accepted, or none; and there was too much evidence, too much inherent truth, a morality too divine, to allow a mind like his to reject the gospel altogether. With Mary at his side, he has continued to worship the Trinity, accepting its mysteries in an humble reliance on the words of inspired men.