176 AUDUBON THE NATURALIST. 



"We were sitting one night, lately," he says, 

 "all alone by ourselves, almost unanimDusly 

 eyeing the embers, fire without flame, in the 

 many-visioned grate, but at times aware of the 

 symbols and emblems there beautifully built up 

 of the ongoings of human life, when a knocking, 

 not loud, but resolute, came to the front door. 

 At first we supposed it might be some late home- 

 going knight- errant, from a feast of shells, in a 

 mood between ' malice and true love,' seeking 

 to disquiet the slumbers of old Christopher, in 

 expectation of seeing his night-cap (which he 

 never wears) popped out of the window, and 

 hearing his voice (of which he is chary, in the 

 open air) simulating a scold upon the audacious 

 sleep-breaker. So we benevolently laid back 

 our head on our easy chair, and pursued our 

 speculations on the state of affairs in general, 

 and more particularly on the floundering fall of 

 that inexplicable people — the Whigs. We had 

 been wondering — and of our wondering found 

 no end — what could have been their chief reasons 

 for committing suicide. It appeared a case of 

 very singular /e/o de se — for they had so timed 

 the * rash act,' as to excite suspicion in the public 

 mind, that his majesty had committed murder. 

 Circumstances, however, had soon come to light 

 that proved to demonstration, that the ministry 

 had laid violent hands on itself, and effected its 



