It would be representing deacon Pratt as a worse man than he actually was,
to say that this sudden death had no effect on his feelings. For a short
time it brought him back to a sense of his own age, and condition, and
prospects. For half an hour these considerations troubled him, but the
power of Mammon gradually resumed its sway, and the unpleasant images
slowly disappeared in others that he found more agreeable. Then he began
seriously to bethink him of what the circumstances required to be done.

As there was nothing unusual in the death of Daggett, the investigations
of the coroner were not required. It was clearly a natural, though a
sudden death. It remained, therefore, only to give directions about the
funeral, and to have an eye to the safe-keeping of the effects of the
deceased. The deacon assumed the duty of taking charge of everything. The
chest of Daggett was removed to his house for safe-keeping, the key having
been taken from the pocket of his vest, and the necessary orders were
given for the final disposition of the body.

The deacon had another serious, and even painful half hour, when he first
looked upon the corpse. There it lay, a senseless shell, deserted by its
immortal tenant, and totally unconscious of that subject which had so
lately and so intensely interested them both. It appeared as if the
ghastly countenance expressed its sense of the utter worthlessness of all
earthly schemes of wealth and happiness. Eternity seemed stamped upon the
pinched and sunken features; not eternity in the sense of imperishable
matter, but in the sense of the fate of man. Had all the gold of the
Indies lain within his reach, the arm of Daggett was now powerless to
touch it. His eye could no longer gloat upon treasure, nor any part of his
corporeal system profit by its possession. A more striking commentary on
the vanity of human wishes could not, just then, have been offered to the