in a hostile meeting, in
which Foote was wounded. In their impulsiveness these two were very
like, as also in the generosity of their natures. Neither bore the
other malice beyond the conflict, and neither ever permitted an insult
to be offered to the name of the other in his absence. A short time
after this affair, Prentiss was with some friends in Cincinnati. There
is always to be found men who swell their importance by toadying men of
character and eminence. Such are as frequently found in Cincinnati as
elsewhere.

One of these had sought out Prentiss, and was attempting to make
himself agreeable to him by abusing Foote: this abuse wound up by
denouncing the distinguished Mississippian as a dog. Prentiss turned
sharply upon him with the exclamation: "If he is a dog, sir, he is our
dog, and you shall not abuse him in my presence!" The discomfiture of
the toady may be easily imagined; he slunk away, nor did he again
obtrude his unwanted presence upon Prentiss during his stay.

Few men have ever so fastened themselves upon the affections of their
friends as did Prentiss: his qualities of heart and head were
fascinating, almost beyond humanity; none ever met him for a day and
went away unattached; strangers, who knew him not, listening to him,
not only admired, but loved him. He never lost a friend; and all his
enemies were political, or from envy. In the society of ladies he was
extremely diffident and unobtrusive, and always apprehensive lest he
should be unable to entertain them agreeably.

On one occasion, not long before our final parting, he said he had
committed two great errors in his life: leaving his native home to find
one in the South, and not marrying when he first commenced the practice
of law. "My constitution was strong and suited to a northern climate,
and there home-influences would have restrained propensities that have
grown with indulgence, and are threatening in their consequences. I
feel this: I am not the strong man I was; mind and body are failing,
and the beautiful lines of our friend Wild are constantly recurring to
my mind:

"'My life is like the autumn leaf,
Which trembles in the moon's pale ray:
Its hold is frail, its date is brief,
Restless, and soon to pass away.'

"Why did not Wild give his life to literature, instead of the musty
maxims of the law. Little as he has written, it is enough to preserve
his fame as a true poet; and though he has been a member of Congress,