to the same extent. The appearance also of this interesting paper
was always admitted to be entirely worthy of its fame. The hand-
writing fully carried out the idea of extreme debility and agitation
corresponding with its nature, while a larger and a lesser blot bore
painful testimony to that recklessness of propriety which a starving
man might be supposed to feel; one corner had been ruthlessly
abstracted at the time it was seen by the writer of this notice, and
with it the last figures of the date; a considerable rent crossed the
sheet from right to left, but happily without injuring its contents;
several punctures were also observed, one of these encroaching very
critically upon the signature. But I need not add that these marks of
age and harsh treatment, like the scars on the face of a veteran, far
from being blemishes, were acknowledged to be so many additional
embellishments. The coloring of the piece was of that precious hue,
verging here and there on the dingy, the very tint most charming in
the eyes of an antiquary, and which Time alone can bestow. In fact,
one rarely sees a relic of the kind, more perfect in color, more
expressive in its general aspect, or more becoming to an album, from
the fine contrast between its poverty-stricken air, torn, worn, and
soiled, and the rich, embossed, unsullied leaf on which it reposed,
like some dark Rembrandt within its gilded frame. In short, it was
the very Torso of autographs. Happily the position which it finally
attained was one worthy of its merits, and we could not have wished
it a more elegant shrine than the precious pages of the Holberton
Album, a volume encased in velvet, secured with jeweled clasps,
reposing on a tasteful etagere.

{etagere = small table or shelf for displaying curios (French)}

But I proceed without further delay to relate some of the more