University of Virginia Library

7. CHAPTER VII.

During the early part of the winter, I had a visit from
Joseph. He still did most of the business at Pike Bluff,
as I continued to do at Hanover. We had now sufficient
funds in hand to pay the balance on the spring purchases,
and also for the goods ordered in the fall. Our joint sales
this year amounted to more than sixteen thousand dollars,
and the net profits could not have been less than five thousand
dollars. Joseph proposed that I should go east for our
spring goods—a proposition which I joyfully accepted.
So it was arranged that our younger brother Isaac, who
had been with Joseph, should take charge of the establishment
at Hanover during my absence.

Just about the time appointed for me to commence the
journey to Philadelphia, I received a letter from Blanche,
whom I had determined to see on my way eastward. But
this epistle was dated at Norfolk, Va. Here it is, in full,
copied from the original which now lies before me:

I lost no time in replying to this epistle. No doubt I
went far beyond the limits of a formal, friendly correspondence,
for I believed myself pretty deeply in love with
Blanche. I informed her of my continued success in business,

and of my purpose to visit Philadelphia that winter.
I requested her to address her next letter to the care of
Messrs. Y. S. & K., importers of hardware, Philadelphia,
and upon its reception, provided she approved it, I proposed
to pay her a visit at Norfolk.

I took especial care to instruct Isaac in the mode of
competing with Moses during my absence; and he was
not difficult to teach, for he, too, had already resolved to
become a successful merchant. All his thoughts, all his
aspirations, centered in the one object—and of course there
was no such word as failure in his vocabulary. The Jew
was not long in perceiving his aptitude for business, his
acumen in discovering and frustrating stratagems, which
dispelled his hopes of again acquiring “the lead” while
I was away.

The winter that year was as remarkably warm as the one
preceding it had been remarkably cold, and my departure
was delayed in consequence until about the first of February,
as it was probable I should then be enabled to
go most of the distance by water, which would be the
most speedy, economical and pleasant mode of travel. At
length I set out on horseback for St. Louis, in company
with several merchants from the neighboring counties. I
was young, full of hope, and ought to have been perfectly
happy. But I was not. My spirit was too much imbued
with the romantic notions and artificial distinctions imparted
by the mass of pernicious works I had read in the
clerk's office in Kentucky. I had a lingering contempt for
the means I was under the necessity of employing to acquire
wealth. I foolishly made a distinction between laboring for
money in my present vocation, and bartering one's services
to rogues for fees in a learned profession. The aristocratic
Beauforts considered the one not quite respectable, and

the other altogether honorable; and, at times, my restless
fancy was too much disposed to concur with them. But
Blanche did not accord with her family in opinion; at least
she had never been known to make any such distinctions.
I say I ought to have been happy—as perfectly happy as it
is possible for one to be on earth. I had with me sufficient
money to discharge every debt we owed in Philadelphia.
I had made money, and my prospect was good for making
a speedy competence. I was respected in the community
where I dwelt, and associated on terms of perfect equality
with the highest and best of the population. Then why
should I call up in imagination other societies, other classes,
of more refined manners and more luxurious habits, and
endure voluntary unhappiness because fortune had denied
me access to them? It was simply because there had not
always been a proper Mentor at my side to place in my
hands the right kind of books. It demonstrated the fact
that an immense amount of injury is perpetrated by the
indiscriminate dissemination of works of pure fiction.
Such works may serve to amuse, and some written by
authors of common sense, may impart instruction; but
a majority of them are very apt to plant an immedicable
thorn in the breast of the young reader, to rankle and
plague him during the remainder of his life. It matters
not how exalted may be one's origin, or affluent his circumstances;
he must be doomed to tumble down, on many
occasions, from his fancied eminence, and grovel on the
earth with the rest of the worms of creation; and if his
nerves are destined to be shocked on viewing the ordinary
pursuits of life, he is quite likely to suffer a larger quantity
of misery, attributable to his fallacious notions of lofty
gentility, than the humblest laborer who toils for his daily
wages. That there are—that there must be distinctions
in society, cannot be denied, and ought not to be deprecated.
The superior gifts and acquirements of mind, the
undeviating adherence to the principles of honor and
morality, must always, and should ever, exalt certain individuals
above the common herd that may be found destitute
of such qualities. But to suppose that a man should
be assigned a low degree in the scale of respectability,
solely because he is under the necessity of prosecuting an
honest pursuit to secure a maintenance, is altogether absurd
and ridiculous. That such groundless supposition does
prevail in certain communities, is well known to all.
But it is an evil that might be corrected by example. It
is true the accomplished and refined could obtain no reciprocity
of enjoyment in the society of the honest ignorant;
nor can such an association be required. But they could
recognize the claims to respectability of those who become
as intelligent as themselves, and as subservient to correct
principle, notwithstanding their occupations, of whatsoever
kind they may be. They should disdain to reproach any
one for his business pursuits, provided they be lawful and
not injurious to public morals. There is a distinction
without much difference, between acquiring a fortune by
honest industry one's self, and subsisting on a fortune so
acquired by one's father or grandfather. There are but
few—very few, indeed—families of wealth and pretension
in this country, which have not produced their mechanics
and men of business. Therefore, the man who
denounces as disreputable any of the useful occupations,
is very apt to be casting a stigma upon some member of
his own family, and perhaps the very one to whom he is
indebted for everything he possesses.

When we arrived at St. Louis, the river was open, and
in fine navigable order. A large number of merchants

met there on their way to the east; and western merchants,
wherever they meet, are acquaintances and friends; so
we were all perfectly “at home” together. We met on
board the splendid new steamer, Princess Victoria, which
was to start the next morning at seven o'clock. There
was one merchant, however, disappointed in his expectations
of going along with us. This was a gentleman of
experience, and wherever he was, always had business
to attend to up to the last moment. We all regretted
that he was left behind, which occurred in the following
manner. After coming on board, paying for his passage,
and depositing his trunk in his state room (they had just
begun to construct state rooms), he turned to Captain Swan,
and addressed him as follows:

“Captain, you start at seven o'clock, A. M. to-morrow?”

“At seven o'clock precisely,” replied the captain.

“You mean seven o'clock, P. M., as usual, I suppose,
captain, which will allow me to do all my running about.”

“I mean what I say, stranger,” said the captain, very
coolly. “It is not usual with me to speak positively, when
I don't intend to act up to my words. Captain Swan is not
like some other captains you may have met with. I say
seven o'clock, A. M. At that hour I advise you to have
your corpse on board ready to start.” Saying this, the captain
hobbled (he was lame) on shore, and gave some directions
to the hands that were rolling in freight.

“I never knew a single captain in my life,” said friend
F., as the master of the boat turned away, “to push off at
the time named—and if this one starts at the hour appointed,
he will be very apt to leave `my corpse' behind.”

And so he did. By six o'clock the next morning the
Princess had her steam up, and black columns of smoke
rose from her gigantic chimneys, while the engineers below

kept up such an incessant hissing and “fizzing” of
steam, that no one could hear himself speak on the boiler
deck, where we were all seated. Precisely at the time appointed,
Captain Swan gave the word to “let go,” which
was promptly obeyed, and a few “licks back” extricated
us from the crowd of steamers lining the busy wharf—busy
even then, but an illimitable beehive now.

But instead of steering down the stream, the pilot turned
her bow up, and we ran about a mile above the city, and
then turned round and went past under a full head of steam,
to show the good people who stared at us the capabilities
of the glorious Princess. The spray flew up six feet high
from our cut-water, and a terrible commotion was kicked
up behind us, almost throwing some of the smaller craft
out on the shore. When we got just opposite the wharf
we had left, a couple of small cannons were fired off, the
flags were run up, and a band of music on the hurricane
deck struck up “The Star Spangled Banner.” We now
beheld our friend F. running down the broad quay, waving
a white handkerchief for us to stop. He called aloud, no
doubt, but we could not hear him—he beckoned, in every
variety of attitude; and we saw him very plainly—but we
could nowhere find the captain. We—the western merchants—being
of one mind, and of one will, would have
caused the captain to stop and send ashore for him; but,
as I have said, that functionary had disappeared, and could
nowhere be found. At length, when we had gone some
six miles, we perceived the captain coming up from below,
with an air of perfect ignorance of what had transpired.
He was sorry we had not found him; and even then said he
would go back if we insisted upon it—such being the potential
influence of our class—but this was rather much
to require at his hands, and so we continued on our career,

hoping our friend would overtake us on another boat at
Louisville.

Among the passengers on board, I may be pardoned for
giving the true initials of some of them, as it has been a
long time ago, and they were all creditable pioneers in their
line, and deserve, from a career of usefulness and merited
success, to be held in remembrance by those who have
succeeded them, and subsequently built upon the broad
and substantial foundations laid down by them. First, there
was Mr. G. C., the gentleman in manners, the genius in
financial and business operations, and the benefactor of
honest, enterprising young men. His features were regular
and handsome—barring a nose somewhat long—his eyes
were the very orbs of intelligence, and his lips expressed
his marked characteristics of benevolence and generosity.
But even then the pallor of feeble health rested upon his
face, and the locks about his temples were beginning to be
salted and peppered by the hand of unsparing time. His
physical system was too weak for his vigorous intellect,
and the wear and tear of the thousand horse power of the
machinery of his mind threatened to shatter his hull to
pieces. By forcible restraints on his genius, and by confining
his enterprises in business channels to prudent limitations,
he has fortunately been able to keep his “corpse”
erect even until this day. That he acquired a fortune,
as it was, is known to all the banks of any magnitude
in the Union, where his autograph is quite familiar,
and respected as it deserves to be; but if his body had
only been equal to his mind, there is but little doubt that
his acquisitions—honest and honorable ones in every instance—would
have sounded his fame to every quarter of
the globe. There was Mr. L., self-possessed, amiable,
quiet and easy in his manners, and always meditating something

new for the benefit of the state, as well as for his
own profit. Unfortunately, his mind ran in advance of the
necessities of the time; and, as is generally the case with
those who introduce novel objects of usefulness, this projector
was destined to share the fate of many illustrious
predecessors. But still he accomplished much good in his
days of prosperity. So long as he confined his energies
to mercantile pursuits, he continued to reap a rich reward;
and he had the gratification of successfully establishing in
business a great number of enterprising young men in that
new country. Next, there was Mr. M. P., a gentleman of
portly form, and undoubted genius—as pioneers generally
are—but who possessed the invaluable faculty of confining
all his thoughts and operations to a single, uniform line of
business, and of course he had to grow rich. There was
Mr. St**ly, of calm, mild, but thoughtful aspect. He was
meditating expeditions beyond the borders of civilization,
which were afterwards triumphantly accomplished, and he
is now enjoying the fruits of his active life in peaceful retirement
with an independent fortune. There was Col. O.,
who was to become the associate of the last named, and to
acquire a still larger fortune, and finally to fall a victim on
the field of battle. There was Col. M., of unusual vivacity
and extraordinary conversational powers, who subsequently
retired in independence, after pursuing a uniform course
of business. He became chief magistrate of the state.
There was Mr. C. F. J., the happy lover of humor in
others, and affording a constant fund of it himself, but at
the same time a most enlightened man of business, and
the most accomplished chirographer I ever met with. Tall,
handsome, and extremely affable, it is no wonder that
when he retired with an ample fortune, an unusual degree
of popularity should keep him constantly in the councils
of the state, and elevate him to the chair of the Assembly.
There were E. M. S., H. R., Mr. H***es (subsequently an
M. C.), Col. T., besides quite a number of others, most of
whom became men of fortune, and achieved other enviable
distinctions. There were those, of course, who formed
exceptions to this list—men who were not adapted to their
business, and failed in it; and others, who were qualified,
but lacked the perseverance, to pursue any line of policy long
enough to arrive at a desirable result. But every one of
them, so far as I am informed, who pursued the legitimate
business of a merchant, without being enticed aside into
other channels of ill-considered speculation, met with certain
success, and reaped a rich reward for all their toils
and privations. And so it is to this day. The western
merchant who perseveres in the single appropriate line of his
business, is absolutely sure of succeeding in his object. It
is the man—and pretty much that man alone—who deviates
from his legitimate career, and in his eagerness to amass
wealth before he has earned it, and before he is entitled to
it, embarks in wild speculations which promise splendid
returns on paper, but which are rarely to be realized on the
counter, that becomes bankrupt. These facts (let no one consider
them fictions) should be well considered by the young
merchants of the west. They are applicable now, and will
be applicable in all time to come; and if the admonition be
kindly received, and the hint be acted upon, the experience
of the past will unquestionably produce its benefits in the
future.

During our passage, various means were resorted to to
pass the time pleasantly. The nights were spent by too many
of us at the card table. Even the oldest and the gravest
of the company did not hesitate to take a turn at brag or
poker; and none, I believe, were exempted from eucher,
whist, backgammon and checkers. Such, at that time, was

the universal practice—and so long as none but men of
character and honor participated, there was not much injury
done to the purses of the unskillful; for amusement, not
gain, was the object. But when gamblers by profession
made the cabins of the steamers the scenes of their
depredations, it was quite different with those who ventured
to indulge in sports of such questionable morality. Many
a young merchant was doomed to pay the penalty of his
rash gratifications, by finding himself completely relieved
of the funds destined to discharge his debts in the east.
But any one who travels on the western waters at this day,
needs not to be informed by me that this evil practice has
been, if not quite altogether, at least to a very great extent,
reformed.

But our days were spent differently. We were in the
habit of assembling on the boiler deck, for the purpose of
conversing on matters of amusement and information. We
resolved ourselves into a kind of Western Congress, Mr. C.,
of St. Charles, by spontaneous request, always in the chair.
Here the experienced merchants met to discuss matters of
expediency for the future, deduced from incidents of the
past, the relation of which was often mingled with diverting
anecdotes. The young merchants, who were making
their first visit to the east, kept in the back ground, as mere
listeners (when not especially desired to speak), to the lessons
of instruction calculated for our edification.

I recollect distinctly the first morning we assembled in
this manner; there were perhaps twenty of us seated, forming
a half circle, with the president in the centre, at the
apex, like the leader of a flock of wild geese. Each had
a cigar in his mouth, and his heels on the railing in front.
There was no sun—but the weather was mild and refreshing,
as we were fanned by the early spring breezes coming

up the broad “father of rivers,” from the soft clime of the
orange and lemon, the magnolia and myrtle. There was
no fog; but a slight curling mist rose from the placid surface
of the stream, and vanished in thin air before it reached
to any considerable height.

The subject first discussed was the best policy of purchasing
goods in the east. Some contended that it was
best to purchase of a succession of new houses, while
others maintained that the proper mode was to confine
one's dealing to a few well selected firms, whose character
for regularity and fairness was established. This was
edifying to such of us as were making our first visit. A
representative from Palmyra (the appellation of representative
was borne by each of us), maintained the first proposition.

“There was a new house established,” said he, “last
year, with which I made a bill that pleased me; and in proof
that I did a little better with it than I did, or than any one
could do, with the old established firms, I have only to say
that they sold me the “apple 3” brown cottons a quarter
of a cent below the usual price. It is true the amount
saved by the purchase, was no great thing; but it demonstrates
the fact that a new house is willing to put up with
smaller profits, at first, until it has obtained a regular set
of customers.”

“Will the gentleman from Palmyra,” said the member
from Lexington, who took the other side, “permit me to
ask him a question?”

“It is strictly in order,” said the chairman.

“Certainly,” said the Palmyra delegate.

“Then the gentleman will be good enough to state
whether he bought any other goods from the new house;
and if so, what they were, and the prices.”

“I did make a general bill with it,” replied the
Palmyrian, “and I was pleased with every article I purchased.
For one thing, I remember that I purchased
a few pieces of a new article, just introduced, called
`Grecianade,' for gentlemen's wear. I gave twenty-five
cts. per yard for it, and sold it readily for fifty cts. I did
not ask the price of it at the old houses—perhaps the
gentleman can inform me what they asked for it?”

“I can,” said the gentleman from Lexington, triumphantly.
“They asked only twenty-three cts. for the same
goods!” This was followed by a round of applause. “But
this is not all: I, too, was induced to make a small bill
with the new house. I did very well, I must confess,
with the articles selected. But I selected none of their
`Grecianade,' nor anything else that I was not quite
familiar with. They attempted to sell me cloths and other
goods ten per cent. higher than I paid for them elsewhere.
It takes quite a good judge of goods, and a better
one than I profess to be, to detect an excess of a few cents
or a few shillings in the yard, on goods of value. The
`tallest' merchant will frequently get beyond his depth in
Market St., or Pearl St., and then it is better to depend upon
an old friend, who has never been known to deceive, than
a new man, and an entire stranger. By taking considerable
pains, examining the tickets, &c., I found out that the cloths
of the new firm for which I was asked $5 00 per yard, were a
portion of the same invoice they asked only $4 50 for at R.'s,
S. P. & Co.'s, G., C. & Co.'s, B.'s, M. N.'s, J. N. & L. D.'s,
O. & T.'s, &c. &c. So when I wandered from the old
beaten track, I made sure of having my foot on firm bottom.
I never buy goods of strangers, unless I am familiar with
their quality and value. Then I run no risk.”

“That's all very well,” said a member from Columbia;

“but still something may be said against confining one's
self too long to certain old houses. If they become too confident
of selling you all the goods you want, it is natural
for them to adhere to their tip top prices. It is with them
as it is with us. When certain descriptions of goods decline
in the market, they are very apt to exact the old
figures, if they suppose there is no probability of their customers
getting information of the reduction. Competition is
fair with them, as it is with us. Our customers always
derive advantage from the competition we have in our
towns. They are under no obligation to give us more for
our goods than they can be had for of our neighbors. And
so with the eastern merchant. It is true there is more safety
in the old houses—they will not be likely to impose on a
customer, as strangers sometimes do, when they can get
a good chance. Nevertheless, a new firm will offer inducements
not to be despised. To establish a business,
they are willing to put up with smaller profits than the
rich old houses; and it is our interest to avail ourselves of
all such advantages. I am done, now, and if no one else
desires to speak, I call for a decision.”

The speaker decided every question; that was the rule:
and there was no appeal from his decision. In this case,
he decided thus: “It is always best to look before you
leap—that is the old saying; and it is as applicable now
as when it was first uttered. I have no doubt the first
gentleman lost by his precipitate confidence about as
much as the second gained by his prudence; and that the
new house came off `more than even' by the operation. I
think the last gentleman who spoke, hit the mark. Where
one must depend upon the candor of the house he is dealing
with, it is better to rely upon those whose representations
have before been proved to be correct. But when
one is perfectly competent to judge for himself, it is well

to look about him, and buy of those who offer the best bargains.
But one thing I beg to impress upon the very
young gentlemen who have never been in the east. It is
this: every merchant there, as well as in the west, follows
his business for the purpose of making money. I have
never met with a merchant who sold goods exclusively for
the benefit of his customers. And when you are told that
certain houses are selling all kinds of goods lower than
anybody else can afford to sell them, don't believe a word
of it—for, upon inquiry, you will ascertain that such firms
possess no greater capital than their neighbors, and pay
equally as much for their goods. So if they are particularly
extravagant in their declarations that they can afford to
sell, and will sell, at cost, or lower than cost, beware of
them! Buy of them staple goods, that you know all about,
if they insist upon it; but never venture where you can't
touch bottom. Confidence in another is a plant of slow
growth. And until it is so grown and proved—examined
and checked off, in mercantile phrase—it is best to be reserved
and cautious. These merchants may talk about
friendship, and of an ardent disposition to subserve your
interests; but in business transactions, pretty generally,
the design of the parties, mutually, is to realize the most
they can from each other. Such is the motive, even when
excessive assurances of attachment, kind feeling, and all
that, are made.”

The next topic was introduced by a member from Fayette.

“Gentlemen,” said he, “no doubt you all have your
`brag' houses in Philadelphia, and I have mine. I have
tried all the houses you have alluded to; and without having
anything special to allege against any of them, I can bear
witness, particularly of the fairness and trust-worthiness
of my favorite firm — Messrs. Keen, Cunning & Co. I

have bought goods of them for three years, and every time
I return, they give me new evidences of their rectitude and
liberality.”

Here he paused a moment, being interrupted by a buzz
that went round the company. A majority of the merchants
present simultaneously uttered declarations of their admiration
of the house alluded to, and I made a memorandum of
it, as one I was resolved to make a bill with.

“I will tell,” continued the gentleman, “why it is my
`brag' house. All houses are liable to make mistakes in
the hurry of business—but this one never hesitates to correct
an error, and it is always done in a handsome manner.
Last year, when I went on, I carried with me my last invoices,
in which were two pieces of cloth charged—one
black, one blue, and each worth about fifty dollars. I told
them the blue never came to hand. That was enough.
My word was sufficient. They were satisfied. They
handed me fifty dollars, thanked me for giving them an
opportunity to correct the error, and protested that they
would always correct such errors with pleasure. And that
was not all. Upon farther inquiry, they said their young
man had by mistake put the cloth in the box of another
merchant, who had not yet informed them of it, but had
simply, and most dishonestly, paid only for the goods in
his bill. I asked them if they did not intend to make the
man pay them for the cloth. They said no; they could
afford to lose it, and they would do so rather than expose
the fellow.”

To my surprise, this speech was followed by a profound
silence, instead of the applause I looked for. The chairman
smiled mysteriously, and called upon the rest to say what
they knew of the house in question, intimating that when

they were all done, he would have a few words to utter in
relation to it, as he was well acquainted with its character.
But they all seemed disposed to prolong the silence.

“Come, gentlemen,” said the chairman, “I am very
anxious to speak; but it is against the rule for me to do so
until you are all done. I call upon the gentleman from
Boonville to speak next.”

“Well, then,” said the Boonville member, “if I must
speak out, I shall have `to acknowledge the corn,' to make
use of a very vulgar expression too often repeated in polite
company. I have been `chiseled,' to use another refined
term in our vocabulary. The amount, I don't know, nor
do I care much about it; but the fact that I was so `green,'
—another familiar word—is what stings me somewhat, I
must confess.”

“I'm in for it, too!” said the gentleman from Fulton.

“And I,” exclaimed the most of them, one after another,
in quick succession. To my utter astonishment, the same
kind of a mistake had occurred with each of them at the
same house; and in every instance, it had been a piece of
blue cloth, or some other indispensable article in a western
assortment of goods at that day, and which each one supposed
he had bought remarkably low. I will not, of course,
make any attempt to repeat even the simple anathemas that
were uttered. The compound ones, and the new ones invented
for the occasion, would be altogether beyond my
powers of description. But still I was slow to comprehend
the cause of such a reversion of sentiment. The wonder with
me was why they did not rather sympathize with Messrs.
Keen, Cunning & Co. The money, in every instance, had
been quite promptly refunded; and, if I understood the gentleman,
the goods had been packed in the boxes belonging to
others, who were not so ready to correct the error. The loss

of Messrs. Keen, Cunning & Co., thought I, must have been
considerable.

“Now, gentlemen,” said the chairman, “it is my time
to speak. Messrs. Keen, Cunning & Co. played off the
same game upon me several years ago. But I found them
out, and left them. Of course the plan was successful
with me, and would have been to this day, had not one of
their young men, who had been discharged, revealed the
secret. He said the mistake was designedly made. The
goods left out, were too valuable for their customers not to
miss them. And when his money was promptly and cheerfully
refunded, it was natural for the customer to conceive
a high estimate of the honor and justice of the house, and to
deal more liberally and confidingly with it than ever. He
said the firm hardly ever lost a customer, as their overcharges
were skillfully made on such descriptions of goods
as rendered discovery difficult, if not impossible.”

I may here state—that no one shall suppose such a
house exists in Philadelphia at this day—that Messrs. Keen,
Cunning & Co.'s business was extremely light that season.
As they had made arrangements for a large business,
and as there was “tightness” in the money market
when their notes fell due, they failed.

The next topic was the relative merits of New York and
Philadelphia. But as only a few of our party had been in
the habit of visiting the first-named city, the subject was
soon referred to the chairman for his irrevocable decision.

“I must give Philadelphia the preference, gentlemen,
until some reforms are introduced in New York. Prices
must necessarily be irregular in every city—but then there
is not quite as much regularity in the system of transacting
business, not the same uniformity of habits among the jobbers
in New York, that we find in Philadelphia. There

are more sharpers, more Shylocks, more impostors in the
one than the other. Such is the general belief in Missouri,
at all events, founded upon experience. There are doubtless
a vast number of houses in New York equal in every
respect to any we find in Philadelphia, and it would be exceedingly
wrong to confound the good with the bad; but
how can strangers discriminate between them? When I
first made purchases in New York, as well as several of
my friends who began there at the same time, although
some of our bills gave us very great satisfaction, we invariably
found that we had been imposed on in others.—
Several years passed before we fell in with the right kind
of houses. A number of the jobbers there go upon the
principle that it is best to procure a constant succession of
new purchasers; and, never expecting to sell goods to the
same man twice, they resolve to make the most of him
while they have a chance. Of course he suffers `some;'
and he is very apt to confound the innocent with the guilty,
in his subsequent denunciations. Now, in Philadelphia,
the substantial fair-dealing firms form a kind of fraternity
to uphold one another; and by unanimity of action, having
in a measure the control of money matters, they are enabled
to keep out, or put out of the trade, most of the dishonest
and disqualified interlopers, who would perpetrate a stigma
on the fair name of the city. Besides, Philadelphia is
nigher to us, and the charges for transportation thence,
are not so high as they are from New York. While upon
this subject, I beg to caution my young friends against one
species of imposition constantly practised in New York on
strangers. No doubt some of you, gentlemen, will visit
that great city to gratify your curiosity, if nothing else. I
will illustrate by an anecdote, from which you will deduce
the warning. I have always been considered somewhat
cautious, and rarely have been taken in by impostors. For
years I have been in the habit of laughing at my young
friends, who will, in despite of all the cautions contained
in the newspapers, persist in buying false watches at the
auctions in New York. It was only last spring that I met
with three of my western friends in Broadway, who had
been cheated at one of these swindling concerns the year
before. I joined them in a stroll, and we searched for the
gentleman of whom they had made their purchases. I
wanted to see the rascal made an example of. We found
the house, but there was a different name on the sign.
The present occupant could give us no information in relation
to the retired auctioneer. But he would sell us genuine
gold lever watches: and as there were some half dozen
men besides our party in the room, he held up one and
began to cry away at a tremendous rate. Some one started
it at fifteen dollars, and it was run up to forty dollars, when
the bidding ceased. `Take it, sir; examine it for yourself,'
said he, handing it to me. I thought I would look
at it, merely out of idle curiosity. Now, I profess to be a
tolerable judge of a watch. I opened it. It was a good
lever, extra jeweled. The case was eighteen carat gold.
The watch was a valuable one. I could not be mistaken.
It was altogether different from those in the pockets of my
friends. I bid forty-five dollars for it carelessly, still holding
it in my hand. `It is yours, sir, and the cheapest
watch that ever was bought,' said the auctioneer, taking
it from my hand. `Here, boy, take this watch back to
the desk. Follow him, sir, and upon your paying the clerk
there, it will be delivered to you. I cannot take the money
for it, or I would deliver it here.' I followed the boy,
keeping my eye on the watch. But as we progressed backwards,
it grew darker, there being no window behind.
When I came to the man at the desk, he was writing by
the light of a candle. He presented a bill, received the
money, and delivered the watch. It seemed to be the
same one; and as I had watched its course pretty narrowly,
I put it in my pocket, satisfied it had not been changed for
another. But we had not walked away forty paces, before
I thought I would give it a cursory inspection by sun-light.
Bah! I perceived the cheat at once! It had been changed
in its progress to the desk, before my eyes, and I had now
a gilded thing not worth ten dollars. I paused, almost in
a passion. My first impulse was to go back and confront
the swindlers. But the laughter of my friends, whom I
had been quizzing for their obtuseness, in suffering themselves
to become the victims of such sharpers, was so just
a retaliation, and my conduct had been so inconsiderate in
venturing to cast a bid at all for any article whatever in
an establishment of rogues, that I resolved to stand rebuked,
as the just penalty of my rashness. Thus, gentlemen, is
one more liable to be swindled in New York, than in Philadelphia.
The influential business men in the latter city
would not permit such establishments to exist two days in
any of their business thoroughfares. They give a whole
city a bad name, and inflict an incalculable injury upon it.
From what I have said, you may infer it is my opinion
that the young merchant, particularly, is safest in the hands
of the old-established and long tried houses of Philadelphia.
For my part, I am now in the habit of visiting New York
as well as Philadelphia, and derive advantage from it. I
buy there of men whom I know to be as conscientious as
any others elsewhere; and as I make it an invariable rule
to buy no article without first making myself pretty well
acquainted with its value, I do not often have reason to
complain of being over-reached. I perceive no material
difference in the prices between the two cities; but I am
sometimes enabled to obtain a greater variety of styles by
purchasing in both.”

The next topic was “drumming and boring.” The
speakers were unanimous in their condemnation of the
practice; and many of them related instances of their harsh
treatment of the young men who pursued them for their
custom. The chairman being called upon for his decision,
paused, and with a smile turned to one of the company
who had not hitherto uttered a word, and demanded, as he
had a right to do by the rules, that he should first express
himself on the subject. This gentleman was from a place
in the southwestern part of the state, without a name. No
town had yet been christened in his section. He was located
at a mill, on some river, and had his store under the same
roof. But he supplied the people with goods for fifty miles
round, and was growing rich. This representative of that
wild region deserves to be particularly noticed. His
name was Elijah Sage. His form was slight, his face pale
with ill health; and although he was not thirty years of
age, his locks were quite gray. He was hardly ever known
to smile—he had never been seen to laugh. He was repulsive
at first sight to a stranger; but all who knew him well
appreciated the genuine benevolence of his heart, which
was fated to be concealed under a sour and crabbed exterior.
Whether it was the result of disease and suffering, or that
he had discovered a philosophy of his own—for he was
known to be a profound student of human nature, and
deeply versed in history—which caused him to disapprove
of almost everything done by others, and to dissent from
almost every opinion expressed, both by public men and
private individuals, was a matter of conjecture; but, that
such was his habit, none who were in his society could

deny. Men were often vexed and annoyed by his contradictions
when they succeeded in getting him to participate
in their debates; but when they reflected that he never
obtruded his opinions on them, they felt bound to tolerate
his eccentricities, as they were termed. Elijah not only
thought and spoke, but he likewise acted, differently from
other men. When other merchants were deterred by
financial panics from purchasing as extensively as they
had designed doing, he said nothing, and bought the more
extensively in consequence. When others were made
confident and bold by the favorable aspect of the times,
he became timid and cautious. Nevertheless, his invariable
success procured for him, and with no ill-founded reason,
the reputation of having the gift of penetration, and a more
than ordinary genius for business. He had a long nose,
as most men of genius have.

“I differ from all of you,” said he, responding to the call
reluctantly, “in regard to the `borers and drummers.' Of
course, when they come about me at the hotel, I believe
just as much as I please of their professions and promises.
But still, I sometimes meet them the next day at their employers'
establishments, and pick up good bargains among
them. I have done it often, and expect to do it again.
Besides, they display their activity in exhibiting every description
of goods they have; and it often occurs that they
show me an article not in my memorandum, which I need,
and which I can make money on. So it is mere nonsense
to condemn them. They can't force any one to buy.
They do all the labor, showing you their goods; and it costs
you nothing merely to stand, or sit, as I generally do, and
look on. Then, where is the imposition or wrong they do?
For my part, I like to see them. I like their eagerness and
anxiety to supply my wants. It is my business to see that

they do not sell me anything I don't want, or at too high a
price. If I was compelled to believe everything they say, and
to purchase everything they insist on my taking, it would
be a different thing. The man who has not the resolution
to say no, when an article he does not want is offered him,
had better keep away from the city, and pay some one else
who can, to buy his goods for him. It is an easy thing for
me to listen to their speeches over their cases of goods,
and then simply reply that they are not the kind I want,
or that the prices don't suit me. That is an end of it.
They may return to the charge, and pour out a volley of
new arguments, a mere puff of wind, which can hurt nobody;
but still it is just as easy to remain unmoved as not.
If they should seem to be offended at my incredulity, that
is no matter of mine. They may get pleased again, if it
so please them; if not, there is no harm done to me. The
fact is, if they did not find poor weak fools at the hotels,
whom they can twist and turn as they please, their importunity
would never be complained of; and in nine cases
out of ten, when you hear western men abusing or ridiculing
them, you may safely suppose that they have on
some occasion been weak enough to become their worthy
dupes.” Here there was a writhing among the company,
and a moment after, it was succeeded by a loud burst of
laughter. Elijah continued, without any perceptible change
in his rigid features: “In regard to the employers of those
abused young men, and the conduct of the young men
themselves, I consider the practice altogether justifiable,
and, indeed, commendable. They seek to establish or to
extend a business. Who of us will hesitate to do the same
thing, in our little pitiful and contemptible spheres? Who
of us can cast the first stone? If they pulled you into
their stores and robbed you by main force, you could not
make a greater outcry against them; while at the same
time, if you would confess the truth, those among you who
abuse them the most, would acknowledge that their attentions
never fail to flatter your vanity. Your abuse of them
is only a mode you have of boasting of your standing and
importance in the city. The practice is rather agreeable
than otherwise to the western man, inasmuch as it is better
to have a friendly recognition on entering an establishment
in quest of any article, however insignificant, than to address
cold, formal strangers, who may not know that you
are a western merchant. Besides, men of the best business
qualifications, of honor, and capital, when embarking
in business, employ these young men, as well as houses of
the reverse character; and I venture to assert that our
acquaintance with two of every three houses to which we
give preference, commenced through the very means we
are so apt to condemn. I am done. Decide, Mr. Chairman.”

The chairman decided that, as he was unable to determine
the matter, he would leave every one to the enjoyment
of his own opinion. Elijah nodded his assent, with something
like an air of triumph.

The next subject was one which interested me much.
It was in relation to the social intercourse between the
western men and the city merchants.

Each one had something to say of the hospitable attentions
he had received, or something to complain of in the
neglect of those who, while professing to be his friends
when selling him goods, had cast him off as soon as they
had pumped his pocket dry.

When they were all done, the chairman again demanded
an opinion from Mr. Sage.

“My opinion is,” said Elijah, “that those who are worthy

of social intercourse, and have anything really attractive
about them, may, if they be so disposed, find admission
to the private circles of their acquaintances anywhere.
But we, who are in the habit of living in the woods or
wild prairies, seem to forget that habits and customs in
cities are essentially different from those of the people we
associate with; and hence our reproaches and sneers at what
we are pleased to denominate their aristocracy, when we
see a well-dressed company invited to a party, from which
we, in our coarse boots, huge blanket coats, foxy caps, and
long beards, are excluded. What kind of a figure would
we cut, if we were admitted? We may affect to despise
dress as much as we please; (Elijah was neatly dressed;)
but if we should find ourselves, in our coarse costumes, in
some magnificent saloon, surrounded by splendidly attired
ladies and gentlemen, there is not one of us but would feel
overwhelmed with shame and confusion. And why would we
have such painful feelings? Because the ladies were too
fair, and the gentlemen too effeminate or foppish? No;
but simply because we had neglected to make as genteel
an appearance as the rest of them. If the gratification of
being present on such occasions does not compensate for
the expenditure it would require to dress as well as the
rest of the company, it is our duty to stay away, even if
an invitation be tendered us. Most of our pleasures and
desires are merely creatures of the fancy. Our ordinary
clothing is the common apparel in the country we inhabit,
and attracts no particular attention; but it is offensive, and
naturally and justly offensive in places where a better description
is universally worn. In my country, I once knew
an eastern gentleman to come nigh being mobbed for wearing
a rich Spanish cloak, when everybody else wore blankets
and buckskins. He was hooted at and insulted by our
young men, partly, perhaps, because the girls smiled at
him very graciously. In the city, they do not go that far—
they let you enjoy your peculiar fancy unmolested. It is
no aggression on their part, when they merely omit to invite
your iron-nailed heels to cut their Brussels carpets, and
the black quid in your mouth to find a place of deposit
under their fine sofas.” Here Elijah was interrupted by
the unrestrained merriment of the company. About half
of them were dressed in full Missouri costume, and three-fourths
were tasting the weed.

“You need not suppose,” continued Elijah, “that I can
plead an exemption from the error of western men—I
mean of a portion of them; for it is only a portion of them
who persist in the error. I will give you an instance of
the awkward predicaments to which I have been liable.
The first time I went east, I determined to dress precisely
as I had done at home—indeed, I wore the identical clothes
I had been wearing for twelve months in the store. Well,
nobody objected to my clothes in the houses I transacted
business with. I bought a large stock of goods, and paid
away a considerable sum of money. The merchants all
treated me with marked respect, and complimented my
judgment, while I, on my part, was satisfied with my purchases.
As long as my ideas were confined to business, I
did very well, and had no reason to complain of a want of
politeness on the part of anybody. But when my business
was done, being a young man, and having one or two idle
days on my hands, I thought I would seek some innocent
amusement and recreation. Then I began, as I thought, to
discover some signs of this so much hated aristocracy—for
a deaf ear was turned to all my hints. They were ready
and anxious to sell me goods, while they had not a word to
say on any other topic whatever. I returned to the hotel,

and abused that refinement and taste of the Philadelphians
which I could not comprehend and appreciate. My friends
joined me in maledictions, for most of them were in a similar
predicament. In the evening I visited the theatre,
in company with several of my western associates. We
went early, to get good seats; and sure enough, when we
got in, we found the house empty, for it was not quite dark.
We cruised about, in quest of the best location, and finally
pounced upon a box, the third from the stage on the left
hand, and sat down on the front bench. We observed a
ticket pinned to the cushion, with the name of `Clear
Brook' written on it. Mr. Brook was the merchant who
had handled the largest portion of my money, and sold me
the most of my goods—and all my companions knew him.
So we thought ourselves fortunate in hitting upon his box,
and did not doubt that he would take pleasure in entertaining
us between the acts.

“The first scene passed off before Mr. Clear Brook and
his company arrived. Indeed, I observed that nearly all
the ticketed benches were unoccupied during the first scene;
and upon inquiry I was informed that the fashionables
never came early, and always retired after the first piece.
But my particular friend, Mr. Clear Brook, did come at
last; and he was accompanied by several fine gentlemen
and ladies. The gentlemen wore spotless white kid gloves,
and other finery to match. The ladies were decked in
satin, laces, brilliants, etc. It was a gorgeous bevy; and the
contrast between their glittering habiliments and our very
shabby appearance was so palpable that we hung down
our heads in shame. They paused at the door of the box,
evidently not recognizing us. We abandoned the front
bench for the ladies; but still there were hesitation and consultation
among them. We looked for Mr. Brook to come

forward and speak to us, and to inform his gay company
that we were western men, and not a party of the rowdies
of the town. But he did no such thing. He merely gazed
at us a moment through a gold mounted glass, held in his
kid-covered hand, and then called for the box-keeper.

“This is my box, sir,” said he to that personage; “I
have taken the whole box, sir, and I desire you to clear it
out for the exclusive use of my party.” He spoke pretty
loudly, and attracted the attention of many people in the
vicinity, and especially in the pit, the latter looking up
with delight, expecting to have a scene not in the bills.
We became the centre of attraction for a brief space of
time, and our situation was becoming intolerably uncomfortable.
We stood up, turned round, and faced Mr.
Brook, that he might recognize us immediately, and put an
end to the embarrassment. We bowed. He remained stiff.
He would not recognize us. The box-keeper was required
to perform his duty, and we were unceremoniously thrust
out, and the door was closed against us. Of course we
came nigh bursting with rage and indignation; and when we
procured back seats on the opposite side of the house, our
mortification and anger were not diminished on perceiving
that Mr. Brook's party did not occupy more than half the
seats in the box we had been turned out of. We vowed
vengeance, and we had it. This circumstance was narrated
by so many that it spread all over the west, and
seemed likely to cripple the concern in which Mr. Brook
was a partner. He was compelled finally to go out of the
concern, and was never able afterwards to get into another.
But we were wrong—while his conduct was not so very
reprehensible. It was incumbent on us to conform to the
usages of the people among whom we thrust ourselves.
It was inexcusable presumption in us to suppose we might,

without offence, and a breach of manners and good breeding,
sit beside a party of fashionably dressed ladies and gentlemen
in muddy boots, and nappy blanket coats, which had
been worn in the stage coaches, and been rubbed against all
sorts of travelers. None of us were altogether deficient in
that best kind of education, extensive reading and general
information. We knew more of history, of the classics, of
poets and plays, perhaps, than Mr. Clear Brook, or any
of his party; it is probable, that, if a just balance sheet
had been struck, we had quite as much money; and if we
had been properly dressed—and there is a propriety of dress,
as well as of speech and manners—it is probable we would
have had a cheerful recognition, and a pleasant conversation
with the young ladies. We were deprived of that
happiness by our own stupidity and folly, and should have
blamed no one but ourselves for the result.”

When Mr. Sage was done speaking, the chairman, who
always dressed genteelly, decided without hesitation that
Elijah was right.

“Such is my decision, gentlemen,” said he; “and I
feel inclined to substantiate it by a few additional remarks.
You have all observed, no doubt, that the well-dressed
gentleman receives the first attentions of the servants at
the hotels, and the best accommodations, without paying
any more for them. On the contrary, he frequently pays
less, as it is a greater satisfaction for a landlord, by good
treatment, to induce a man of genteel appearance to become
his regular customer, than one of shabby and disgusting exterior.
Indeed, he receives the latter with reluctance; and,
as he is indifferent about his returning, the probability is that
he will make him pay a few dollars more than he charges the
other, to deter him from coming back. So the shabby
gentleman who travels much, may pay, in the course of a

year, in the way of extortions, while he has to put up at the
same time with the meanest sort of accommodation, an extra
sum fully sufficient to purchase a genteel suit of clothes.
Besides, the eastern merchant will always feel a greater pleasure
in waiting on a customer of genteel exterior, than one in
semi-barbarous costume. He will walk the streets with
the former himself, when it is necessary to conduct him to
other places—whereas he will send his porter with the
latter. The one passes along pleasantly and advantageously,
commanding the respect and attention of those
with whom he may have business to transact; the other is
a mark for the assaults of the low and degraded, who suppose
his intellects are on a par with his clothes, and
thus he is a thousand times more liable to impositions
and injuries than the first, besides the mortifications and
affronts he meets with from the servants up to the proprietors.”

“But I believe the western merchants are the best judges
of human nature,” said the representative from —'s
Mills, in my county.

“I differ from you,” said Elijah.

“I know you differ from me,” retorted the colonel, “as
you differ from everybody, and in everything. But give
your reasons.”

“I have done so,” replied Elijah, “in the matter of dress.
It is human nature to make as fine an appearance as one's
purse will afford. This is one of the legitimate enjoyments
which wealth places in one's reach. How else can we
enjoy the benefits of money than in eating, drinking, and
wearing good clothes? If a man should keep a large pile
of dollars by him merely to look at, and to guard against its
diminution, his money would then become nothing more than
an expensive jewel, a trinket, and manifestly as ridiculous

an extravagance as is perpetrated by the rich belle who
wears a set of diamonds costing from one to fifty thousand
dollars. It is one of the leading traits of human nature for
a man to strive to excel his neighbor in appearance; and
this can be done only by artificial means. It is the character
of human nature to employ art to attain its ends.
And we may boast as we will of our free and easy independence—but
there is scarce one of us who does not feel a
conscious inferiority when addressing an eastern man who
is more genteel in his exterior than ourselves. Thus
they are the best judges of human nature in their own
spheres, as we may be in ours—and it is nothing more
nor less than brute nature for us to suppose that the rough
garments we wear on the prairies, and behind our counters,
should escape without notice in the cities. No doubt the
shaggy bear they keep at the Zoological Institute, thinks
he cuts as fine a figure in Walnut Street as he did in the
Ozark mountains. It is the nature of the brute.”

“Then I propose that we are the best politicians, in the
west,” said the colonel, smiling.

“I differ from you,” replied the imperturbable Elijah.
“They have more papers, and are better posted in all kinds
of political information. At the same time, I am willing to
admit there is not much honesty or honor among the mere
politicians, anywhere.”

“Then, perhaps, you won't agree with me that ours is
the best system of government ever instituted on earth?”
inquired the colonel, who was a decided politician in inclination.

“No, I won't! and since you seem to urge it, I'll speak
my sentiments boldly,” replied Elijah, with a somewhat
excited visage. “The American continent is at present
a vast harvest field, in which there are but comparatively

few laborers. Each one sees the treasure scattered by a
bountiful Providence around him, and he is intent only on
seizing it for his own use. The majority know nothing,
and care less, about the government, at present. But
when the prizes are all appropriated, and the laborers shall
be increased; when the avenues to speedy wealth shall be
blocked up by dense masses, and few only be enabled to
succeed,—then they will turn upon the government, and
cast upon it all the blame of their disappointments. They
will devise new governmental schemes to improve their
condition, instead of relying upon their own honest exertions
for success; they will pull down and set up institutions,
and reforms, which can avail them nothing; and ultimately
arrive at a glorious state of anarchy. If they succeed
in enriching themselves at the expense of others, then
the veriest democratical demagogues will immediately become
the most obnoxious aristocrats in the world. This is
human nature, too. But if they fail, which is quite likely,
they will finally get a Master.”

“Do you mean a king?” interposed the colonel, disdainfully.

“Ay, a king, emperor, autocrat, or any other term you
may prefer. He will be, and must be, eventually a master.
If the Union should become too unwieldy, it may fall
to pieces—but then they may have a half dozen supreme
potentates, instead of one.”

“He's joking with you, colonel,” said the member from
Independence. “If you were to say that a monarchy was
not the natural government for human beings, he would
still differ from you.”

“Yes, I would differ from him,” responded Elijah, very
gravely, while the whole company, the chairman included,
uttered roars of laughter. “Yes, I would differ from him,”

continued Elijah; “and I would produce arguments deduced
from the history of the world, to prove I was
right. If you believe in scriptural testimony, you will,
upon investigation, find that kings or patriarchal masters
existed on the earth as far back as you can penetrate
into the past, and at a time when the great Creator's
direct interposition in the affairs of men was of frequent
occurrence. The long line of Asiatic kings reigned with
the concurrence of the Almighty. Whether in Persia
or Egypt, the calamities He wrought were for the punishment
of the iniquities of the men, and not for the vices inseparable
from kings. He gave kings to the people himself,
and they reigned with his express sanction; witness
Saul, Solomon, and David, from whom Jesus, the `king of
the Jews,' and our blessed Mediator and Saviour, descended.
If we explore profane history, we have the
same result, viz: the incapacity of dense masses to exist
long without a permanent supreme head or master. Much
is said of Greece—but it produced its Philip and its Alexander.
And where there were no kings in name, there
were potentates in reality. Lycurgus was a great man,
but he was uncle to the King of Sparta. The famous Amphictyonic
confederacy was founded and conducted by
kings, princes, nobles, and military chieftains; and the
union was dissolved in consequence of `geographical discriminations,'
and all the tribes were subjugated by the
Macedonian kings. Pisistratus, Miltiades, Themistocles,
Aristides, Pericles, Alcibiades, &c. &c., who are supposed,
by the uninformed, to have been unadulterated Democrats,
hardly accomplished anything when not masters of the people,
and exercising almost supreme or sovereign authority.
It is true they had a democracy at Athens, for a brief
space; and then the demagogues and sycophants put Socrates
to death, because he had the wisdom to detect and
the boldness to expose their corruptions. Then we had the
warfare of the poor against the rich, in great perfection.
Any demagogue who wanted his rich neighbor's property,
had only to fabricate charges against him, and the common
mass, who divided the plunder with the demagogue leaders,
speedily condemned and destroyed him. But the demagogues
themselves, when they grew rich, intrigued with
monarchs, took their bribes, and betrayed their country, for
the purpose of securing the stability of existing affairs, and of
securing the enjoyment of their revenues, under the strong
protection of a master. It was the same with Rome, and
would have been the same in England. The renowned
Pyms, Hampdens and Sidneys, while so full of patriotism
and republicanism, were the pensioners of Louis XIV.
While Napoleon was a great republican, he did nothing
for France; when he was master, everything. But as he
dealt in blood, in either capacity he was a scourge and a
curse—perhaps the instrument of the Almighty to punish
the people for cutting off the head of the good king Louis
XVI. And now they have driven off Charles X., and put
up Louis Philippe—perhaps they will drive him off some
day, and try once more the experiment of a republic, again
to result in the ascendency of a military master. They would
have tried a republic the last time the mob was omnipotent,
if it had not been for the influence of La Fayette, the associate
of our Washington—who knew they could not exist
without a master—and they cannot hereafter. If ever the
mob shall succeed in getting up a revolution in Great Britain,
it will be for the purpose of plunder, and they will
settle down again with a more absolute master than ever.
We must have a master, too, some of these times, to keep
us from cutting each other's throats, and plundering one
another. I think a permanent sovereign head or master
was the design of the great Creator for the regulation of
all communities. In every bee-hive there is a king-bee—
and every flock of sheep has its bell-wether. I will relate
a circumstance which contributed to convince me that a
chief directing head would be necessary for our convenience
and protection. I went with the promiscuous multitude
once to witness an illumination of the old State House
in Philadelphia. The street was crammed and jammed,
and all who got within seeing distance, remained immovably
there, while three-fourths of the people could see
nothing of it at all—to say nothing of the bruises, black
eyes, torn dresses, and the other indispensable accompaniments
of an inconsiderate mob. The people were like a
flock of buffaloes in the wild prairie; they gored and trampled
upon each other to no purpose. Now if there had
been a master, we should have been compelled to act differently,
and the affair would have terminated much more
to our satisfaction. In Europe, on such occasions, the
master will have the masses to go up on one side and down
on the other: by such means a million can see a sight as
well as a thousand, and there can never occur any violent
collisions in the operation. And, say what you may about
royalty, it is an ineradicable trait of human nature to desire
gorgeous ceremonies and magnificent pageantries. We
will grow weary of our plain habits before the end comes.
Music and diamonds, crowns and sceptres, titles and distinctions,
will have their attractions for the multitude here,
as well as elsewhere. Even this boat bears the name of a
young princess, who will probably be a reigning monarch
in a few years. We have boats named Napoleon, Louis
Philippe, Lady Washington, Lady Jackson, &c. We are
progressing. `Progressive democracy' never pauses until
it completes the circle, and returns to monarchy.”

The chairman, and of course every person present, not
excepting myself, pronounced against Elijah, this time.

“Your decision, gentlemen,” said Sage, “can amount
to nothing. I want the decision of your grandchildren.”