APPENDIX. 577 



before her to the halcyon days when he wooed and won her, and then 

 she would turn to her next neighbor and whisper, in a tone mingled 

 with pride and fondness, 'You see his winning ways have not yet left 

 him.' And then she would smile and look on in silence, as if life 

 could afford no delight like gazing on my uncle Nicholas when he was 

 happy. 



"Happy! — the heavens themselves are never so bright and clear but 

 that a cloud overshadows some portion, and there lives not that man 

 whose mind is so free but that at some period a phantom pursues it, 

 from which he fears escape is impossible. My uncle's phantom was the 

 dread of poverty. He had lived generously, and from his habits and 

 tone of mind was ill calculated to increase his possessions. As he ad- 

 vanced in life he perceived that his property had imperceptibly wasted 

 away; and to increase his terrors, there was a lawsuit against him that 

 had been pending many years. He dreaded its termination would re- 

 sult in ruin, though convinced that justice was on his side; but the 

 boasted trial by jury is by no means as infallible as its encomiasts pre- 

 tend, for it is a difficult matter for one man who does not understand 

 his case to explain to twelve who frequently are incapable of compre- 

 hending the matter under any circumstances. And by this frail tenure 

 do we cling to our possession of liberty and life. The sword of Damocles 

 is a type of the trial by jury. 



" It was a melancholy sight to behold the old gentleman, term after 

 term, attending court to learn the issue of his cause. It absorbed all 

 his faculties and sapped the very foundation of his mind. He was wont 

 to have a word and a cheerful smile for all he met, but now he would 

 pass his next neighbor without token of recognition. His little friends, 

 the children, no longer followed him. His favorite volumes remained 

 undusted on the shelves — their charm had passed away, and those vernal 

 fancies, that were wont to make his heart like a singing bird in spring, 

 had died and it sung no more. 



" He would at times struggle to disengage his mind from the phan- 

 tom that embraced it with iron clutches, and affect more cheerfulness 

 in the presence of my aunt, for he perceived that his melancholy was 

 contagious. How tenderly she watched over him, and soothed him 

 and encouraged him ! God bless her! At one of those tender inter- 

 views, which were frequent, he appeared suddenly animated with hope 

 — the world was open to him — he was a man, and could labor like other 

 men — his countenance brightened, and he exclaimed, exultingly: 



" 'The spider taketh hold with her hands and is in kings' palaces.' 

 He fondly looked into the recess of hi^ wife's heart through her glisten- 

 ing eyes, and continued: 'The ants are a people not strong.' He 

 37 



