ffairs, and put everybody's natural vision to the
blush, by the marvels which they see with their eyes shut.

According to this version of the story, Judge Pyncheon, exemplary as we
have portrayed him in our narrative, was, in his youth, an apparently
irreclaimable scapegrace. The brutish, the animal instincts, as is
often the case, had been developed earlier than the intellectual
qualities, and the force of character, for which he was afterwards
remarkable. He had shown himself wild, dissipated, addicted to low
pleasures, little short of ruffianly in his propensities, and
recklessly expensive, with no other resources than the bounty of his
uncle. This course of conduct had alienated the old bachelor's
affection, once strongly fixed upon him. Now it is averred,--but
whether on authority available in a court of justice, we do not pretend
to have investigated,--that the young man was tempted by the devil, one
night, to search his uncle's private drawers, to which he had
unsuspected means of access. While thus criminally occupied, he was
startled by the opening of the chamber-door. There stood old Jaffrey
Pyncheon, in his nightclothes! The surprise of such a discovery, his
agitation, alarm, and horror, brought on the crisis of a disorder to
which the old bachelor had an hereditary liability; he seemed to choke
with blood, and fell upon the floor, striking his temple a heavy blow
against the corner of a table. What was to be done? The old man was
surely dead! Assistance would come too late! What a misfortune, indeed,
should it come too soon, since his reviving consciousness would bring
the recollection of the ignominious offence which he had beheld his
nephew in the very act of committing!

But he never did revive. With the cool hardihood that always pertained
to him, the young man continued his search of the drawers, and found a
will, of recent date, in favor of Clifford,--which he destroyed,--and
an older one, in his own favor, which he suffered to remain. But
before retiring, Jaffrey bethought himself of the evidence, in these
ransacked drawers, that some one had visited the chamber with sinister
purposes. Suspicion, unless averted, might fix upon the real offender.
In the very presence of the dead man, therefore, he laid a scheme that
should free himself at the expense of Clifford, his rival, for whose
character he had at once a contempt and a repugnance. It is not
probable, be it said, that he acted with an