I might here describe the breakfast; but as there was nothing appertaining to it which greatly differed from a modern one, I will just ask the reader to imagine his or her own family circle—which is, doubtless, the most agreeable in the world—in the best possible humor, and with excellent appetites, before a repast exactly suited to the taste of each individual of said family, seasoned by all the wit and liveliness possessed by each, in a peculiar degree, and my task will be accomplished in the best possible manner. From this memorable period, all George’s accustomed avocations became tedious and disagreeable to him. Greek and Latin, in both of which he had made an unwilling progress, under Master Goodwin, of the grammar school, to prepare him for college, he now actually loathed; and his father found he must give up the hope nearest his heart, of ever seeing his eldest son distinguished in one of the learned professions. “Well, my boy,” he said at last, “if, as you say, you are convinced you can never make a scholar, as it is not my way to drive a nail that will not go, I consent to your giving up Greek and Latin; though I _did_ hope to see you in one of the professions which your grandfathers followed so creditably. As to your going to sea, remember, it is wholly against my inclination. I shall expect you to continue at school two years; then, if you make such progress in general learning, and in studies connected with navigation, as to give me reason to hope seeing you something above the mate of a Marblehead skipper, I will then consent, though I should much prefer your going into a counting-house in London.” The youth, satisfied with the hope of obtaining his father’s consent to his following the sea on any terms, promised faithfully to do all that was required of him; and, moreover, possessing some common sense, a quality not usually abounding in characters of his stamp, he set his mind to applying itself with energy and perseverance to the studies dictated by his father and Master Goodwin. During the two years specified, two events of note occurred in the Fayerweather family; one was Amy’s marriage. This was conducted with all the state due to so important an occasion. The time for Amy’s “_walking bride_,” as it was termed, for the three Sundays succeeding the wedding, happened to be unfortunately in the early spring, the first Sunday falling on Easter, near the beginning of April. The bridal procession, consisting of the happy pair walking arm-in-arm, four bridemaids and as many groomsmen, set off from Mr. Fayerweather’s and paraded the whole length of Essex street to the end of St. Peter’s, where stood the church of wood dedicated to the same saint, lately replaced by a handsome gothic edifice of stone.