visage, still it seemed that, in my then peculiar mental state, I could
frequently read, even in that brief interval of a glance, the history of
long years.

With my brow to the glass, I was thus occupied in scrutinizing the mob,
when suddenly there came into view a countenance (that of a decrepid old
man, some sixty-five or seventy years of age,) - a countenance which at
once arrested and absorbed my whole attention, on account of the absolute
idiosyncrasy of its expression. Any thing even remotely resembling that
expression I had never seen before. I well remember that my first thought,
upon beholding it, was that Retzch, had he viewed it, would have greatly
preferred it to his own pictural incarnations of the fiend. As I
endeavored, during the brief minute of my original survey, to form some
analysis of the meaning conveyed, there arose confusedly and paradoxically
within my mind, the ideas of vast mental power, of caution, of
penuriousness, of avarice, of coolness, of malice, of blood thirstiness,
of triumph, of merriment, of excessive terror, of intense - of supreme
despair. I felt singularly aroused, startled, fascinated. "How wild a
history," I said to myself, "is written within that bosom!" Then came a
craving desire to keep the man in view - to know more of him. Hurriedly
putting on an overcoat, and seizing my hat and cane, I made my way into
the street, and pushed through the crowd in the direction which I had seen
him take; for he had already disappeared. With some little difficulty I at
length came within sight of him, approached, and followed him closely, yet
cautiously, so as not to attract his attention.

I had now a good opportunity of examining his person. He was short in
stature, very thin, and apparently very feeble. His clothes, generally,
were filthy and ragged; but as he came, now and then, within the strong
glare of a lamp, I perceived that his linen, although dirty, was of