the government of this country. Failing in his purpose, his means
dwindling day by day, he was obliged to pledge a portion of his
treasure that he might be able to live. It cut him to the heart
to divide the collection: he had the history of the world in those
incontrovertible records of brass and silver and gold, currency of the
old Hindoo, of the Assyrian--medals where Alexander's superb profile
shone crowned as Apollo--coins of the Ptolemies, of the Cæsars, of
almost every people and generation from the beginning of civilization
till to-day. But divide them he did, and left a part of them in other
hands, and went to the North. There, driven by necessity, he pledged
another portion; and after a while, wishing to redeem the latter
pledge, and not being allowed to do so, he began a lawsuit to obtain
it. The court decided the case against him; and the little man, half
crazed, unable to obtain the portion he had pledged in Washington, and
now seeing this also leave him, cried out in the open court, "O unjust
judge! God shall demand your soul of you!" And the judge, with a
sudden exclamation, fell backward, and before the sun set he was dead.
The little numismatician returned to Washington, and having failed in
all the hopes of his life, took translating and any other writing he
could find to do. But there a certain high official having treated him
unworthily, he adjured him much as he had adjured the unjust judge;
and a fortnight afterward the official had gone to join the judge. It
is hardly surprising if there were a vague feeling toward this really
excellent man and scholar as toward one having the evil eye, whom
people dread to meet and fear to offend.

But here is another individual with another experience. Gems are his
passion, and for years he has sacrificed to it. He is only an old
clerk on a moderate salary, but no misadventure has ever disturbed his
plans, and year by year he has added some treasure to his hoard till