Yale University Library MllllllllfllMI1™ ' 39002003946218 YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Gift of H.R. Wagner ROLAND TREVOR: OR, THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. lufobiogrnp[jq of \\)i Stater. SHOWING HOW TO MAKE AND LOSE A FORTUNE, AND THEN TO MAKE ANOTHER. PHILADELPHIA: LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO, AND CO. 1853. Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1853, by LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO, AND CO., in the Office of the Clerk of the District Court of the United States in and for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. PREFACE. The following pages were written for the benefit of an only son who is now no more. It has pleased the Almighty Disposer of human events to take him from me, whereby this work has lost its value unless given to the public. As it relates incidents of a life as varied as it has been eventful — and, if not thrillingly interesting, it is because the story has been badly told — I have yielded to the suggestions of some partial friends, who, having read, have advised its publication. As it produced good fruit in him for whom it was intended, they think it may not have a less beneficial effect upon the sons of other men. The reader may perhaps imagine that, as I had a moral object in view, the story will partake of a dry lesson-like character. Not so. It is the actual history of my own life from the age of fifteen to over fifty, with all the struggles and efforts in my progress : showing how I made and lost a fortune, and how I made another, with the causes thereof; and with a sufficient sprinkling of love adventures to reason ably season the dish. A portion of the narrative has been written since the death of my son, which will be relished by the more mature and ripened mind, and yet which, I think, will interest as well as improve the young. Having condensed, for the benefit of a young friend, rules for self-government which I found of great advantage in my own case, and they having produced a beneficial effect with IV PREFACE. him, I have ventured to give them for the benefit of the reader in advance of the main work. A mode by which one may become his own master, and force himself to accomplish whatever he has the resolution to attempt. To make this matter the more plain, I will simply tran scribe the instructions given in the case named. 1st day. Make a blank book out of a quire of paper, with a view to record therein any resolution which you may form ; and consider yourself sacredly bound to adhere to such reso lution so recorded. Bather suffer a protest at bank, or dis credit yourself in any other way, than, by violating such pledge, destroy the value of what will serve as a friend and guardian to you through life, so long as the charm of sanc tity is preserved. In order the more certainly to run no hazard of violating it, make no resolution to bind you beyond one week. And if you have the least doubt about your being able to hold out a week, try it but for a day. If then you think you can hold out longer, try it for two, and then for a week ; and renew from week to week. But never resolve beyond a week, because, however irksome any resolution might be, you would hold it, probably, for a week. Other wise you might violate it, and lose the benefit of a guardian over your actions, which, so long as it is preserved sacred, you will find invaluable. Now commence your week's trial by rising with the sun, or earlier. Then write an essay upon the value to you of a manly self-control. This will teach you to think, improve you in composition, and strengthen your resolution. After breakfast, attend to your accustomed avocations, walk at least a mile for recreation; but read not less than thirty pages of solid matter before you go to bed. Finally, before retiring, record herein how you have spent the day, and what portion of it you consider time wasted. 2d. Write an essay on the value of time and method in the use of it. Balance as above. PREFACE. v 3d. On the value of the habit of executing immediately whatever you determine on. The evil of pondering. 4th. On the importance of punctuality in time engage ments, as well as moneyed.' 5th. On the evil of being in debt. 6th. Review the work of the past week, and estimate, if you continue it, what it will amount to in one year. Con trast it with the mode in which you have spent the previous week, and note the difference. Then before you rise from the table enter your pledge in this book for the next week. Now you will find such gratification in this review that it will be apt to determine you to hold out for another week; but this determination will be strongest immediately after you have finished the review, and then is the time to enter your pledge. Each succeeding week you will be more and more pleased with the plan, and gratified that you have gained so much by being your own taskmaster, and you will become more and more resolved not to fall back. At the beginning of the second week, write an essay upon any useful subject. Let it be, if possible, upon some habit which you wish to correct. Do this every morning until the sixth, then review as before, and note how far you have con formed to your own admonitions. If a young man be resolute in his determination to improve himself, and will begin with those rules, he will find in two weeks that, so far from considering them irksome, he will be delighted with their operation; for he will see a weekly measurement of his advance, and that his character is under going a charming renovation. Some young men there are of fine talents, but with a natural want of energy. Of such I ask, would you put your self under the constraint necessary to conform to those rules one week for one thousand dollars ? If yes — then try it, and I venture to Say that, at the end of the week, you will VI PREFACE. find out a secret which you would not take a thousand dol lars for. Annexed, I give a letter from one who is now progressing with the experiment. His name is erased, but the letter is left with the publisher. BOLAND TBEVOR. Philadelphia, January 1, 1853. Mr. T . Dear Friend : As a New Year's gift, permit me to tender you my thanks for the success of your mental system. Aa you predicted, I acknowledge this is one of your most valuable inventions. Having, been allowed by your kindness to read your me moirs in manuscript, I was inspired with an anxiety to im prove myself: but, being assured of my immethodical and thriftless habits, I despaired of ever acquiring sufficient self- control to accomplish any valuable reform. Your kindness prompted you to a better hope of me. You told me you thought that you could accomplish a total revolution in my character. You offered to try. Pleased with your kindness and good opinion of my capacity, though highly sceptical of any permanent good accruing, I gave myself up to your dis posal, with a promise to follow your directions implicitly for a single week. I followed your directions, as I promised to do. You immedi ately laid open to me a practical philosophy in a new and beau tiful aspect, and demonstrated to me that, as all great works in physics are done little by little, as houses are built by lay ing brick upon brick, so are all great moral undertakings completed little by little. One week was all that you asked. At the end of that week, I found I had profited so much that I ventured to try a second, a third, and to the sixth, which was Christmas week. I determined to enjoy life and leisure thrift lessly and waywardly as fun or fancy might dictate. At the end of the holidays, I was so chagrined at my waste of time and opportunities, I made up my mind to commence the PREFACE. Vll New Year after your directions, and deem the whole tenor of my life well and wisely changed. Now let me assure you what your plan has enabled me to accomplish: first, to stop chewing tobacco ; second, to stop smoking ; third, to get up by six o'clock in the morning ; and fourthly, to stop, in a considerable measure, idling away my time. Had drunkenness or gambling been among my weak nesses, I am fully persuaded I could easily have mastered those propensities. The most singular feature in your plan is, you make me teach myself, by making me note my experience and learn from it. 'Tis a self-supporting, self-teaching ma chine. So fully impressed am I with the value of your plan, that I do believe any man, with a moderate degree of common sense, fortitude, and ambition, could, by its directions, forco himself from any bad habit which might obstruct his pros perity. If so, would it not be* well to give it a place in your memoirs ? It would be a good way of giving it to the world, and there are many doubtless who would reform if they only knew how to do so. I think your plan would teach them. Appreciating the beautiful ingenuity and great wisdom of your plan, and happily assured of the great profit derived to myself from it — "With high respect and pleasant remembrance, I am Your friend. CONTENTS, CHAPTER I. PAGE General views for the government of the young mind . . 13 CHAPTER II. My outset in life 18 CHAPTER III. My plan for improvement — My position in society — The mor tifications I encountered 24 CHAPTER IV. My first speculation 29 CHAPTER V. March to meet the British 32 CHAPTER VI. Voyage to the West Indies — Value of civility ... 36 CHAPTER VII. I return to Richmond, and undertake the management of my father's coal-mines 45 >. CHAPTER VIII. My success in .expelling foul air from the coal-mines — A dan gerous adventure into one of them 46 CONTENTS. CHAPTER IX. PAGE My engagement to go to Kentucky to settle an estate 52 CHAPTER X. My first horse-trade — Various other adventures ... 57 CHAPTER XI. Curious adventures, and some reflections in regard to the first settlement of Kentucky ...... 63 CHAPTER XII. History of a suicide and other matters .... 70 CHAPTER XIII. My arrival in Frankfort — Meeting with a namesake — Ad vances to him and rebuff ....... 76 CHAPTER XIV. My opinion of duels, and the mode of avoiding them — With various other matters ....... 81 CHAPTER XV. My mode of gaining the information I -wanted — A little dry at first, but read on, and the object will be developed with more interest ......... 86 CHAPTER XVI. My forlorn feelings upon first being domiciliated among strangers 90 CHAPTER XVII. The society of Frankfort— The legislature— Association with the members 94 CHAPTER XVIII. Death of my sister Ann and of my father— My return to Vir- CONTENTS. XI PAGE ginia — Settlement with Judge B. and agreement to return to Kentucky 97 CHAPTER XIX. Return to Kentucky — Pleasant adventure .... 102 CHAPTER XX. Second return to Frankfort — Approach of a moneyed crisis in Kentucky — Character of the Kentuckians — History of the independent banks — Relief system and New Court . 104 CHAPTER XXI. The perils and difficulties attending the investigation of land- titles in Kentucky 122 CHAPTER XXII. Account of two. robbers — First steam navigation on the Ohio — Loss of one hundred and fifty dollars . . . 129 CHAPTER XXIII. My first law argument — Arrival of Judge B. — Trip to the Yellow Banks — Discussion about Jack Randolph . .133 CHAPTER XXIV. Growth of Cincinnati, and its cause 136 CHAPTER XXV. Visit to Washington, Richmond — Change of terms for doing business — Return to Kentucky — Accidental meeting with my brother — Auction sale of land at the Yellow Banks . 139 CHAPTER XXVI. A gambling adventure — The philosophy of gaming . . 143 CHAPTER XXVII. Anecdotes of Isham Talbot and Henry Clay . . . 146 Xll CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXVIII. PAGE Effects of an unconciliatory spirit, and the contrary . • 148 CHAPTER XXIX. How to cure a scolding wife— The value of money . . 151 CHAPTER XXX. Pretty girls — Resolute young law student — Young lawyers of Frankfort 156 CHAPTER XXXI. A speculation — Another — Trip to Richmond — Amusing scenes there 159 CHAPTER XXXII. Return to Kentucky— Story of B. T . . . .169 CHAPTER XXXIII. The impropriety of abusing witnesses — A bad policy in law yers 177 CHAPTER XXXIV. My appointment by the State of Virginia as military agent . 179 CHAPTER XXXV. The Kentucky land-laws— Its difficulties— An adventure * . 181 CHAPTER XXXVI. Mr. Clay becomes prominent— Mr. Monroe notifies the allied powers not to touch American soil— Its good effect, and the wisdom of his doing so jgg CHAPTER XXXVII. Trip to the Iron Banks 288 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXXVIII. PAGE A bear story — Meet a counterfeiter — Lodge at a convict's house — History of the counterfeiters .... 194 . . CHAPTER XXXIX. Plan for a new settlement; — Trip to the Yellow Banks . . 202 CHAPTER XL. Story of Miss Rhody Shermahom 205 CHAPTER XLI. The A settlement 207 CHAPTER XLII. Purchase of Mason — Second sale of land at the Yellow Banks —Trip to Virginia ... . . 210 CHAPTER XLIII. Meet with Miss P . .... 212 CHAPTER XLIV. Visit to Judge Brook — First interview with Mr. Clay — His national policy — The error of Virginia in opposing it . 216 CHAPTER XLV. Necessity for charitable feelings — Further remarks upon Mr. Clay's character 224 CHAPTER XLVI. My operations in Kentucky 226 CHAPTER XLVII. Love-affairs 230 CHAPTER XLVIII. T. G 's visit to Kentucky — Discovery of a coal-mine . 239 1 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XLIX. PAGE A speculation missed — Progress of our business — Love-story continued — Marriage CHAPTER L. Departure with my wife for Kentucky . • 257 CHAPTER LI. Arrival at Kenawha— The salt business— Beautiful country in Kentucky — Character of Kentuckians .... 260 CHAPTER LII. Arrival at Frankfort — Removal to Haphazard — Coal business 272 CHAPTER I, III. A duel 275 CHAPTER LIV. Shipment of coal to New Orleans 283 CHAPTER LV. Dine with Mr. Clay at Judge Porter's — A picture of real life 288 CHAPTER LVI. Qualities necessary to make a great man . . 294 CHAPTER LVII. Corruption in our government and the remedy . . . 295 CHAPTER LVIII. " Climbing down"— Coal adventures continued . . .317 CHAPTER LIX. Gloom hangs over us— Wreckers appear — Dissolution of part nership . . . ... 320 CONTENTS. XV CHAPTER LX. An offer to engage in business in Washington City . . 325 PAGE CHAPTER LXI. Purchase of D. R 's estate 326 CHAPTER LXII. Offer for Congross — Bargain with T. G for a Texas ad venture — A horrid bear story — Mexican records; best mode extant; — Contrast with the English .... 330 CHAPTER LXIII. Texan loan — Adventures in Texas 335 CHAPTER LXIV. Appointed general agent for Texas — Empowered to procure a war locomotive 344 CHAPTER LXV. An awkward quandary— Battle of San Jacinto — Interview with Santa Anna and Almonte — Meet two men who escaped from Fanning's massacre ....... 348 CHAPTER LXVI. I now undertake my duties as general agent for Texas . 355 CHAPTER LXVII. The beginning of trouble again 358 CHAPTER LXVIII. Death of my children — Effect upon my wife . . 361 XVI CONTENTS. PAGE REVIEW. ¦ 374 CHAPTER LXIX. Change of subject— A respite recommended . . 380 OUR COUNTRY'S GOOD . THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE, CHAPTER I. GENERAL VIEWS FOR THE GOVERNMENT OF THE YOUNG MIND. The life of every man contains a lesson to his successor, which may be of value, if properly written out. It is a chart, showing where the shoals and breakers lie which pro duce failures in his enterprises, as well as where the deep and smooth waters are found in the sea of prosperity. There are few who have arrived at the age of fifty, and have been prosperous, who could not be more so if they had their lives to pass over again ; and quite as few who, having been unfortunate, cannot look back and see the causes to which they owe their misfortunes. A father, then, who has the time, should furnish his son with this chart, while his mind is yet in that pliant con dition which adapts it to receive the lessons of experience ; before a dogmatic self-will has impressed him with an idea of his own smartness, which makes him deaf to the instruction of others. The most important lesson which my experience has taught me is the conviction that the human mind is pro gressive in all its stages, and that upon no subject has it 2 14 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. ever filled the measure of knowledge to be obtained therein. The conceited, therefore, who turn from instruction, under a belief that they have nothing more to learn on any subject, only show the shallowness of their understandings. The mind very quickly determines from hearing a lecturer whether there is a probability of adding anything to the store of knowledge already possessed on any given sub ject, and if not, it would be waste of time to listen to Mm ; but one should not, therefore, cease to make inquiries through more intelligent sources. In politics, religion, medicine, and many other sciences, certain sects have formed their opinions, and will hear nothing to shake them. How is it possible that the mind can learn, if the book of knowledge is closed ! When I observe a man listen with respect to opinions not in accord ance with his own, as if he gives due weight to them, and wishes to ascertain what merit they are entitled to, and what he can gather from them to improve his own stock of knowledge, I consider that he has a well-balanced mind — one possessed of natural strength, and capable of gathering strength as it goes. There are, indeed, very few minds of this character that are not of the first order. If, after having heard all that is to be said, although dissenting in opinion, a man gives full weight to all the arguments that deserve it, setting them forth in their strongest light, and even adding others in support of the views which have been given, as suggested by those of the speaker, but still, in a decorous and respectful manner, showing why they fail to convince him, I naturally lean to that man. I am satisfied there is no prejudice about him ; that he is in search of light, of truth, of justice ; in a word, a well-bred gentle man — for, whether he come from the cottage or the palace, he is one of nature's noblemen. If schools and parental teaching have not made him a gentleman, nature has. The THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 15 opinions of such a man are always listened to with respect, they always have great weight, and the author will find friends wherever he goes; such a man will make proselytes- But, on the contrary, if a man listen with an apparent anxiety to detect you in a false position, in a slip of language, showing that his object is victory in argument, and not to elicit truth, refusing to admit self-evident facts or reasonable inferences — requiring proof of what a candid mind ought to admit — indeed, leaving an impression on his adversary that he is not inclined to deal fairly — that man may exhibit his ingenuity, his tact, his skill in argument, but he leaves an impression on his adversary of a very unenviable kind, that he is lacking in candor, frankness, honesty, nobleness. There are many grades of all these qualities; and if I had to select a man to transact my business, on account of his honesty, and one should be recommended as standing unex- ceptionably with the world, who suited me as to all other qualifications, if I were to hear him offer unfair arguments I would not employ him ; because the honest heart can do nothing which is unfair. He who will make up an unfair account in argument will do it in dollars and cents when ever a sufficient temptation offers. Once in conversation with a distinguished politician, one who aimed to be a leader, I admitted that on a certain point a political opponent was right (he and I agreed in politics). " Oh, no, no," said he, " you are wrong." Eventually, how ever, I satisfied him that I thought I was right, if I failed to convince him. Not being able to convince me, he took me by the hand, and said, " You are a young politician, and some hints may be of service to you. Allow me to suggest that we ought never to concede that our opponents are right where they differ from the received doctrines of our party." " Why, sir," said I, " that would be a monstrous principle to admit. Each party then would maintain its ground from the mere love of opposition. Every member of each would 1 6 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. have his opinions moulded for him by his leaders ; he would be a mere machine, and not an intelligent being. I shall never subscribe to such opinions, sir, and hope our party will not." From that moment I lost all respect for this man, and finally he forfeited all the respect of his party. There is a set of hardened political jockeys who laugh at the idea of political honesty, and view as an evidence of greenness and simplicity any man's pretensions to it. But, for my part, I cannot conceive that a man can be morally honest and politically dishonest. If a man is honest at all, the principle prevails with him throughout. It will not travel with him through morality, and then leave him in politics or religion. Honesty consists in never acting unfairly, whether in trade, politics, or religion. Many an honest man has gone to jail for debt fairly contracted, but which unexpected events made it impossible to pay; many a politician has greatly injured his country by misguided opinions fairly entertained; and many an honest man has incurred public odium from professing religious opinions in which he sincerely believed. The mind of the young should be honest ; that is, open to light, and willing to hear the truth and admit it. Every truth stored in the mind is future mental capital ; and as it is said money begets money, growing and compounding in its growth in proportion to its aggregation, so do truths. Every addition to the mass of correct thinking strengthens the mind, and adds to its power of collecting new truths, which finally constitute a mind so strong and clear that it has no false view of anything. On the contrary, the man who aims only at controversial victory, and seeks only weapons fair or unfair to attain suc cess, accepting the false and unfair arguments of others, wherever they can be found to answer his purpose, ceases from that time to strengthen his mind by accumulating truth ; and such a man must always occupy a secondary stand. I THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 17 do not mean to say there are not smart and talented men who are dishonest. But such men would have occupied a much more exalted position as men of talent had they been honest; for they lose the greatest aid to the attainment of a high order of talent, in the lack of honesty — that aid which the heart gives to the head — which makes eloquence so powerful and irresistible when there is a consciousness of right. The young mind should learn to be charitable, and slow tocondemn an opponent for difference of opinion, or for crime where there is lack of proof. This world is awfully unchari table, and prone to condemn, on the first accusation, without investigating the justice of the charges. Hence, mischief- makers in society so often succeed in estranging friends from each other, by starting reports in which there is no just foundation whatever. The young heart, while it should not be so credulous as to be imposed upon, should be predisposed to a good opinion of human nature ; otherwise, its own good feelings will be cor roded and hardened. While we allow that there is enough of baseness in the world to put us on our guard, and* give us reasonable caution, we should also allow that there are merit and virtue enough to open and warm our hearts. Hap piness depends much on the sympathy of virtuous hearts. To allow that there is but little virtue in the world would be to leave the virtuous heart desolate indeed. Such is not the fact; there is much to authorize us in giving our confidence and affection, observing a reasonable prudence in doing so. I do not mean, in carrying out this idea, to say that a man must lend his money or his name foolishly to others. No friend would ask it beyond your ability conveniently to spare it. To that extent a man may be justifiable, but certainly not further. An acquaintance will sometimes present him self with a note or bond, and say, "I wish you to indorse this for me; it is a mere nominal thing; you will never hear of it 2* 18 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. again." The nature of trade renders mutual aid sometimes necessary, and all who need it should, if practicable, make arrangements for reciprocal accommodations, securing each other for doing so. There are, however, friends who, under certain circum stances, are entitled to our aid, when it would be ungenerous to refuse it ; and where we can see that, without dishonesty, we are not very likely to lose, we should give it. We are all, sometimes, so circumstanced as to render such aid neces sary, and even at the hazard of losing we ought to give it. But never carry this friendship so far that, if you have to pay all, it will injure you. Many men keep no account of their indorsements, and are finally ruined when they were not aware that they were liable as security but to a small amount. Let me now impress on you to open a security account the first time you put your name on paper for any man, and make this entry : " Security Account to Bills Payable," for this amount due on the day of , by A. B , for whom I have indorsed $ . I will here close this branch of my subject and proceed to the I had of necessity to make myself a pretty good land lawyer, and have pleaded some of my own- most important cases ; and by many, who have known me for 20 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. twenty years intimately, am considered a regular bred lawyer. Any well-informed man, with a strong mind, having a strong sense of justice, the principles of equity well established, is already more than half a lawyer; and, with a single year's study, would be an overmatch for half who practise. And if our laws were divested of the rubbish which encumbers them,* and which is perfectly needless but for the benefit of the school ed, such men alone could be lawyers, for the easy admission of strong intellects acting on the basis of reason, untram melled by special pleading, would soon cause the lighter in tellects to sink. The man of tolerable understanding, whose fate it is to have much to do with law, will soon discover that it is enveloped in a mass of nonsensical trash, growing out of the circumstances under which the common law of Eng land has been handed down to us, and which was the crea tion of circumstances dissimilar entirely to our own ; making it necessary to approach justice indirectly and by fiction, for which now no solid reasons exist. Beason being, in our country, untrammelled, there being no cause to do anything but in a direct manner, all the fiction of the law, and all the special pleading which, in half the suits that are brought, defeat the ends of justice, ought to be abolished, and will be whenever a master-spirit takes the subject in hand, who feels himself competent to the task. It is wonderful that, in the general march of improvement, this remnant of barbarism still remains among us. That it can remain long is, in the nature of things, impossible. I have, however, di gressed more than I intended. — To return. My father's cir cumstances making it necessary that I should leave school before my education was complete, caused me great concern and mortification. I was put to live with a merchant in Richmond, who had but lately established himself, a whole- * This was written in 1848. In 1851, Kentucky remodelled her laws, and has very much simplified them. THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 21 sale importer. He had two clerks, who were then sufficient for his business; and I was admitted as a favor to my father, without wages, but merely to learn business. My father in formed me of the circumstances which made this necessary; that he would dress me genteelly, but that I must be as eco nomical as I could. Indeed, he seemed to foresee a gloomy future, and deemed it necessary to impress me with it. He told me that on my being able to make myself useful and necessary to my employer depended my promotion ; and the most important thing, next to doing well all that I had to do, was to do it cheerfully, pleasantly, promptly ; never to have a sulky look, even if overtasked, but to go at what I had to do as if I considered it a favor to be allowed to do it. And not only so as it regarded my employer, but to seek every opportunity to oblige his friends; "for," said he, "a man's friends always have great influence with him. If you are unpopular with them, you will soon become so with him. And, above all things, be not ashamed to do anything re quired of you — to sweep out the store, dust the counter and the goods ; be always busy at something. You are playing for a high stake. Your future destiny depends, perhaps, on the manner you deport yourself at the start, and how your employer is pleased with you." With these lessons I set in, and with a full sense of the responsibility resting on my course. I thought I could give satisfaction, and determined to do it. I was told I need not do anything the first day, but look around and see what was done, and learn how. The second clerk was vain, and a good deal of a dandy. Before I came in, it was his duty to sweep out the store, and brush down the counters, which duty he continued for a day after I came in. It then became mine. I remarked, when he swept the store out in the morning, before he pushed the dirt into the street, he would look up and down to see who was near, and delay his task while any one was in sight, and then would sweep the dirt out to one side of the door. 22 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. When I assumed the office, I considered that, under the cir cumstances I was admitted, it did not become me to seem ashamed of my trade. I preferred to make an osten tatious display of it, and when I swept out in the morning I also swept the pavement the whole width of the house, and would then knock my broom against the curbstone, attracting notice all around; and generally obeyed the suggestions of my father. This merchant had a very intimate friend, who was in the habit of calling in to talk with him on his way to bank, which was some distance off, and from slight evidences of my obliging disposition, he asked me one day if I would go to bank and transact his business for him. This was in the city of Richmond, when the Bank of Virginia was in front of the capitol, a long way from the seat of business; to reach it was a tiresome walk. I took his book with pleasure, left the store, and after getting out, ran at half speed to the bank (I was only fifteen), transacted the business, and returned as quickly. This friend could hardly realize that I had been to the bank. This happened very often. He ex pressed his thanks. I told him I was the obliged party, the walk was agreeable, and it always gave me pleasure to serve him. One day he remarked to my employer that he want ed a young man, as his only clerk had left him; that if I could be spared, and was willing, he would be glad if I would live with him. My employer said he had little for me to do, and offered no objection. I readily agreed, and saw that, in a few weeks, I had mounted one step on the ladder. My new employer was a Scotch importer of salt, china, crockery, and queensware, wine, brandy, &c., all of which was sold by the pipe or crate; and, consequently, there was little to do in the store, but a great deal at the desk. He was one of the best-informed men in the city, one of the best merchants, and very fond of his ease. The great difficulty with me was that I wrote a bad hand, altogether unfit for books, which delayed my advancement as a bookkeeper, and I feared would THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 23 be a great barrier to my advancement. I exerted myself, however, to improve it, and gradually succeeded, but never attained to a clerical hand. By reading and copying all let ters relating to the business (there were no copying-machines then, and for rising young merchants it is a pity there are any now), I soon learned the general run of the business; and I made all purchases, and executed all orders; even ventur ing often to do what was required before my employer came down in the morning, the mail coming in at night, so that the letters were delivered at sunrise. As I made good bar gains, he was pleased, and encouraged me in taking such re sponsibility. I thought, after a while, I understood the an swers which would be given to letters, and, in antiSipation, would write them, showing them to my employer. They seemed to satisfy him, and, being willing to avoid trouble himself, he adopted them. If, at any time, I misconceived his wishes, he would correct me, and I would write the letter over. But, most generally, my letters were satisfactory. In this way, I had taken most of the business on my own shoulders. We did a great deal of bank business ; notes were becoming payable and receivable every day ; and often he seemed caught unawares with a note due and no provi sion made. I concluded I would keep an estimate of re sources and payments, besides the usual bill-book ; and this, so far as practicable, a month in advance. I would some times inform him that, on a certain day, some time ahead, heavy payments would be due, without adequate means. This would stir him up to meet them. I prepared all his promissory notes and checks, and presented them for his signature. He scarcely ever looked into them, but signed without inquiring. Even this finally became irksome, and he lodged a power of attorney in the banks for me to do everything ; and I now seldom troubled him about the busi ness in any way. 21 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. CHAPTER III. MY PLAN FOR IMPROVEMENT— MY POSITION IN SOCIETY— THE MORTIFICATIONS I ENCOUNTERED. To keep up this history in connection, I have omitted to say that, the nature of the business being such as not to occupy my whole time, I devoted most of my evenings to reading; spending two out of three alone in the counting- room. Impressed with an idea that, by leaving school before my education was finished, I should always show it in after life (by the by, the collegiate course was then so much more thorough than now, that a man's education was not considered complete who was not familiar with every histo rical event, who could not tell exactly where any point of note is on the globe, together with the boundary of every coun try, its population, revenues, resources, manners, laws, and customs, besides having a thorough knowledge of the sci ences and languages), I felt a great anxiety to make up the deficiency, and studied very hard to do it. I made it a rule to read, at least, two hundred pages every week, and of solid matter, keeping a journal in which I noted what I read, and how much. I even wrote out an epitome of the histories of Rome and Greece. The British classics were then coming out in numbers; my employer was a subscriber. They were a great treat. I read them as they came to the extent of near one hundred volumes. He was, also, a very literary man ; very fond of reading; had a good library, and no trash ; and finding me fond of reading, he would suggest valuable works, and talk with me about them. I was extremely fond of mathematics in all its branches; and if I had any genius, THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 25 it ran in that line. Questions often appeared in the papers, which I never failed to solve without difficulty ; and my old mathematical tutor, to whom I would submit them for revi sion, took great pleasure and pride in my efforts, and en couraged me. But a great subject of mortification to me was that the young men of fortune who had been my schoolmates and near friends — who had spent their time with me at my fa ther's when he lived in Richmond, and I in turn with them at their fathers' — now that my father had removed to the country, residing at his coal-mines, as they supposed from necessity, and I was in a counting-house, became cold, and not anxious for my acquaintance. Their invitations to see them were fewer, and less cordial, until I declined most of them. Some were still warm ; but few. This was the great est trouble of my life. I was extremely sensitive, and felt all slights most keenly. The young clerks were not gene rally intelligent, and I had not much relish for their company; yet there were some who were so, and when so at all, they were so from natural strength of mind, cultivated by a taste for reading, and consequently more interesting and strong than those who were so simply from the force of education. But I occupied a position of the most unpleasant kind. My relatives, connections, and the associates of my family, were of the best society, and the most fashionable in the State. In Richmond, however, a counting-house clerk is very seldom found in the best society ; I might say never, unless his father is the merchant, and a man of wealth. With all the merit of Virginia, she is the most aristocratic State in the Union, and I seemed doomed either to have no society, or sink into the second class. Distinction, founded on merit, must and will always exist. Men. will seek the company of those of congenial disposition ; but distinctions founded merely on wealth I always have abhorred, and always will abhor. Of those possessed of real 3 26 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. merit, and who did not bow to the tyrant fashion, there were many who occupied the highest positions in society, and who were warm friends of our family ; but the slights of a few made me suspect all; and having a most unbending spirit in matters of the kind, I finally almost quit society, for my rule was never to descend. There was a proud conscious ness within me that the day would come when these things would change; and, though often mortified, I was never hum bled. The greatest evil resulting from this state of things to me was a doubting of friends who deserved my confidence; who wanted to be as they ever had been; but I became so punctilious that it was a labor to keep up my acquaintance ; I required all to meet me more than half way. This there was no sufficient inducement to do, and they would not do it. My habits, however, soon won upon the respect of many, who, despite the frigid atmosphere I threw around me, sought to bring me out of it, and gradually succeeded, but not until I had had ample time to taste fully the bitter cup of advers ity, and to become imbued with a feeling of deep sympathy for all who are similarly circumstanced ; so much so, that I now never see a young man of merit in adversity but I feel an inclination to elevate him. This feeling, however, does not carry me so far as to allow every young man to be a judge of his own merits, and to push himself upon me or my family without being properly vouched for. The introduction by a friend of any young man into my family is a passport which entitles him to my respect, until I find cause to withdraw it. But if I find him unworthy, not only is my respect with drawn from him, but also from the man who introduced him. Nothing is more unwarrantable than the introduction into any gentleman's family of a man for whom the introducer cannot stand bound, and vouch for; and of all the company which I desire to avoid, the foremost is fashionable loafers and idlers — men whose merit consists in their being of the ton — without employment, business, aim or object in life;- THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 27 mere men of fashion. I get into an ill-humor the moment such men enter my house. In the deepest days of my ad versity, I never did acknowledge fellowship with such, how ever wealthy or respectable their families might be. I have always had the instinctive aversion to them which a cat has to water. But I am digressing from my narrative. For the reason named, my habits became somewhat solitary ; but I learned to play the game of chess ; there were a few of my acquaintances who understood it, and I now found that all the time which I was willing to spare could be very easily consumed at that game, which is so captivating that the great danger is in too great an indulgence in it. It was from reading the life of Franklin that I was induced to learn it, as he thought it expanded the mind, and greatly helped to develop the thinking faculties. Having, as I before said, left school before I had taken a regular collegiate course, though the academy at which I finished my education, Gerardin's, in Bichmond, was perhaps equal to any in the State, not excepting William and Mary, I always had a humble opinion of my abilities, notwithstand ing, in my classes at school, I was generally foremost, or among the foremost; but I had not taken a thorough course, and that mortified me. I often debated the question with myself as to what grade I did occupy; and generally ended by concluding with a compromise, that, though my course had not been thorough, there were some whose course had been so who were as great fools as I was; and that, so far as I could, I would make up my deficiencies. Never did a lad struggle harder; and finally, seeing in the newspa pers a criticism on Virginia manners and customs, which, from its style, I knew came from a Northern man, I felt an irresistible inclination to try my hand at an answer. I showed it to my father's clerk, who kept his books at his coal-yard. He was a very intelligent man, and a man of fine taste. He approved it, and offered to have it published, say- 28 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. ing the editor would be glad to get it. I doubted it, but agreed he might try. It came out with some high commen dations by "the editor of the "Compiler," and I was gratified to see it copied in other papers. This gave me a little better opinion of myself. But the idea ran through my head that the editor would not have published the piece if he had known the author had never been to college. During this time, I had no stipulated salary. The under standing was that I was to have my board, and enough to clothe myself. Besides my board, I credited myself with $300 per annum, which would not then go so far towards clothing me as $150 would now, for the war/with England then existed, and the best cloth sold for $20 per yard, and one piece of linen made up into shirts cost me $80. This war had been now raging about a year and a half. I got my elder brother John to write to Mr. Madison, who was an old friend of our family, to see if I could get a commission, intending to speak to my father if there was a chance, but not otherwise, as I did not wish to give him useless uneasi ness. My brother, however, thought it best to name it to him first. He objected. He said I could not get one on account of my age, and that I was too young to endure the hardships of war. Besides, I was but little trained as an accountant, and would come out of the war, if I survived it, unfit for any other business, as idle habits were acquired in the army which could never afterwards be thrown off; that, if I had fitted myself for a merchant or for any other profession, and were old enough, he would not oppose my wishes ; but that after returning he might not be able to support me, and I would certainly not be able to support myself. Strong reasons, I thought; and so I abandoned the idea. THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 29 CHAPTER IV. MY FIRST SPECULATION. At this time there was an immense body of coal piled at nay father's yard, which he could do nothing with, as the English fleet lay in the Chesapeake, and it could not be ex ported. I observed, by the Baltimore prices current, that coal was $1 per bushel there, and insurance was 25 per cent. I asked my father if he would allow me to make an adven ture in it. He said yes, and seemed pleased with the idea ; said I might have as much as I wanted, as it was of no value to him. I went to Rockets, the ship-landing for Richmond, and engaged a schooner to take 3000 bushels at 50 cents per bushel. The insurance deducted would leave me 25 cents, if insured at full value; but, insured at 25 cents, not includ ing freight, it would leave me 18J cents. I shipped and insured at 25 cents. The British took it, and I got 18| cts., or about $550. This was a pretty good beginning. I went again to Bockets to engage another vessel, and bought a sloop which carried about 3000 bushels, for $500, payable in coal, and as she was unseaworthy, I bargained for her repair, in coal, for about $250, keeping my object a profound secret from every one but my employer, who allowed me time to attend to it. While the repair was going on, a man applied to me to know mj object. I told him I was not disposed to make it known. He said the vessel was designed to run through the fleet. I asked him how he could know it. He answered it could be for no other purpose, for she could not get out of . the river without being in danger, and it was his knowledge 3* 30 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. of that fact which induced him to apply to me, as he wished to share in the adventure. His name was Baker. I asked him on what terms he expected to share. He said he would insure my safe passage through the fleet for half the profits. I asked in what way he would insure it. He replied he must be assured there would be no violation of confidence if he told me. Certainly not, I said. If he named the matter confidentially to me, and so desired, I would not name it; for I had not thought of how it was to be done. And he then showed me a license from the commander of the British fleet to pass any vessel he pleased through unmolested. Believing he had obtained this license because of some ser vice he had done the enemies of his country, I told him I would have nothing to do with him. He asked me, then, not to name it. I told him I should not, as I had so pro mised, but considered it a dirty business. In the course of the day, a merchant of the city came to me, and wished to know if I would sell the sloop I was having repaired, and my price. I told him I would, and my price was cost, $750. Well, he said he would take her. He loaded her with coal, and sent her out, and she was lost in a storm in the Chesa peake. I now had about $1300, more money than I ex pected to have in ten years, and debated with myself what I should do with it. Nothing gave me more pleasure than the idea of pleasing my father; so I concluded, on his next visit to Richmond, I would give it all to him, for I knew he was hard pressed. And when he came in, I told him what I had done, and handed him all the money. He said he wished me to keep it. I answered, I had no better use for it than to give it to him. He replied it would be a great relief to him, and his eyes filled with tears. I saw he ad mired the feeling, and this was a full reward for me. The firm I lived with had a most beautiful topsail schooner of about one hundred and eighty tons, called the "Richmond." My success thus far, although both vessels were lost sug gested the idea of an adventure in her myself, and I pro- THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 3 1 posed to my employer, if he would load her with tobacco, which could then be purchased for $10 to $20 per hhd., that I would run her through the fleet, and go to France with it, where it was then quoted enormously high. She would carry 250 hhds., worth about $4000. She was worth about as much, in all $8000. If I got through, the cargo would sell at least for $100,000. "And, in the name of God," said he, "would you hazard getting through? and how would you expect to do it?" I told him I would, and I would expect to do it as follows : — I would go down James River, as near as would be safe, to the enemy, and lie in some cove, ready for the first hard westerly blow, or any wind which would take us out of the capes, upon a dark night. We could see the lights of the enemy, when they could not see us, and I would dash by them while at anchor, taking care to run so that a broadside should not bear on us. But, after seeing us, we would pass so rapidly that they could not probably do us any harm. After getting to sea, I would not fear them much, as the "Richmond" was a rapid sailer. " But," said he, "the French ports are all blockaded; how would you get in ?" " I would trust to running the fleet in the same way." " And what would your father say to such a scheme?" I had not weighed that matter. He would probably ob ject. But my greatest fear would be from my mother. I should tell my father, however, that I had often heard him say that a young man without enterprise was of no account ; that the worst which could happen me would be to be taken prisoner (the dangers of the sea are but the daily dangers of life, not to be estimated) ; and, if taken prisoner, I would see something of England, and after a while be exchanged. He objected to the hazard. I told him then to value the "Rich mond," and I thought I could make up a stock company for the adventure. He said he would see about it on his return from New York, where he had to go in a few days. 32 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. CHAPTER V. MARCH TO MEET THE BRITISH. Washington City had been taken by the enemy some short time before, and my employer had not been gone many days before their fleet began to descend the Potomac; and, some short time afterwards, while standing in the store door, I saw a dragoon dashing through the streets at half speed to wards the governor's. Soon the fire-bells were ringing, as if the whole city was on fire; then came the booming of can non, as signals of the enemy's approach upon the city, and a dozen drums and fifes went down the street, beating' the long roll to arms. Every store door was immediately closed, and every man who could bear a musket was soon on Capi tol Square, and at his post in his company. Iliad not been long mustering, and was in the militia. (My employer was a Scotchman, as was his partner, who had a branch-house in Petersburg, and I had been afraid to join a volunteer com pany lest they might be displeased.) James Barbour, then Governor of Virginia, though a talented and zealous man, was rather remarkable for his pomp, and for making the worst of everything. He made a speech to the troops, in forming them that the enemy had yesterday landed in force at Sandy Point on James River, within less than two days' march of the city, and might be expected upon us in a short time; that now we would have an opportunity of wiping out the disgrace of Bladensburg, and showing the chivalry of the Virginia character, &c. ; that he had appointed Colonel Tho mas Man Randolph commander of the advanced guard, with liberty to select fifteen hundred chosen men, to go forward THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 33 immediately and keep the enemy in check, while the forces could be organized below the city to receive the enemy. Colonel Randolph selected mountain riflemen and the city volunteer companies. They were allowed time to provide themselves with what provisions they could carry in their knapsacks, and each man a shirt. Catching the prevailing fever, and anxious to be of those who were to go in advance, I applied for admission into the " Blues," obtained a second-hand uniform, and was soon on the march with them. It was only when I was passing our store that I recollected having the key in my pocket. I stepped out of the ranks, handed it to a neighbor, and re quested him to write the partner in Petersburg ; and away we went. We were cheered on by several fine bands of music, and the huzzas of the citizens. But the alarm of the ladies had a more powerful effect; they were seen at every window, some crying, but others waving their handkerchiefs; but, in all directions, drays, carts, wagons, and every vehicle which could take off valuables, were packed with them ; and carriages with families moving off as from a city that was expected to be sacked by the enemy. If ever men had, on earth, incentives to fight, we had. The sight around us was enough to make a man march up to the mouth of a cannon, or any other certain death ; and I think no force would have been sufficient to cause a retreat without a fight by our little band. We marched eleven miles that night, and encamped with out tents, making the best shelter we could of pine-tops. We had no camp equipage of any kind — no cooking utensils. Every man ate all he took with him that night, or it was eaten by his comrades. No news of the enemy. In the morning an express came, informing us that the enemy had gone on board again, hav ing understood that the approach was easier from York River ; or our commander so suspected; and our march was bent to 34 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. the confluence of the Mataponi and Pomunky Rivers, whose junction forms the York. Five hundred horse went in ad vance, and so swept the country of provisions, which is one of the poorest regions in the United States, that a very scanty breakfast was all we. got next morning, and not a mouthful then until night, when the men were allowed to range every where to get something to eat. I got a supper, but some got none, and the next day not one got half enough to satisfy the cravings of hunger. No commissary had gone ahead; no provision had been made ; there had been no tijne for it; we had taken no baggage-wagons with us, not even a pack- horse ; all we had was in our knapsacks, for it was expected we would be the second day in retreat upon the city, pur sued by a large British army, which our force was too small to make a permanent stand against. But we were expected to make a stand at every stronghold, and fight as long as we could; when whipped, to retreat to the next, and there fight again as long as we could, checking the enemy as much as possible, until the main army could be organized and come to our help. But the enemy having changed his plans, and we having to follow, we were not prepared to do it; but there was no help, and we marched to Warronigh Church, at the head of York River, almost starving on the way, and with out shelter. When we reached this point, we found a church over one hundred years old, disused because of its decayed condition, built in the shape of a cross, the only part which would turn water being under the centre of the ridge-poles, and not room enough for one-fourth of our forces. The second night after our arrival I was detailed on guard, and stood out in the heaviest rain that I ever felt. I had a watch-coat, but it availed nothing, for soon I was wet to the skin. When relieved, I had no retreat but this church, already doubly crammed. I walked in; there were lights kept burning. Not a soul was awake, and not a spot was there for me to lie on. I picked out the driest place, however, THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 35 and laid myself down in my wet clothes, between two volunteers, resting about equally on each. They were too sound to awake by my weight, and I got as much down towards their legs as I could. When I awoke in the morn ing, I was so woven in among the legs of the soldiers that it was hard to extricate myself. I determined, the next day, to have a better place than that by the next night, and our mess set to work and built a pen of pine logs, which we got axes to cut, and roofed it with pine-tops, making a sort of shelter, but not a tight one. We, however, thought we had fine lodgings, and went soundly to sleep; but in the night there came another heavy rain, and we found ourselves all afloat. We had omitted to dig ditches around our tents, and the water came in upon us so as thoroughly to wet us. Such was my fatigue, and so eager was I for sleep, that I felt the water running under me some time before I could summon resolution to get up. The next day, however, we dug ditches, and thatched our roofs so as to be pretty comfortable. We were in this condition a month before we got any help, and returned home in about two weeks after we got it, the enemy not having landed, though they came into the river. I had made a set of chessmen of wood and a board of plank, and as we had several chess-players with us our time was spent quite pleasantly. There were many interesting incidents and characters which I would like to name; but to give a very skeleton sketch is all I can hope for time to do. Should it ever be in my power to enlarge, I will do it, and give mat ters more in detail. My present object is simply an outline sketch for my son, to show how all those events have borne on my general destiny ; to furnish a skeleton-chart. Our re turn was, of course, hailed with pleasure by our friends, and the British fleet had left the Chesapeake, except a ship or two, and gone to New Orleans, where the last battle was fought on the 8 th of January, the result of which all know. I now returned to my counting-house. The labors were 36 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. very flat and insipid. Had I continued much longer in camp, I could not have borne them. This is the worst effect of a military life. I had continued several months in my old position, where I had been four years, and nothing was said about raising my wages, or my future advancement. Now, I could keep all the business straight which my employer made, but I could not make it; and it was evi dent, from circumstances needless to name, that the house could not stand. I found the resources of the house dimi nishing — no new ones creating. I attempted to draw my employer's attention to this fact; but he heard me with im patience and petulance. I had now an offer by a merchant in Norfolk, who had married a relative, of $900 per annum, to go and live with him. This was a great lift from $300. I accepted, and left my old employer. This merchant took in a partner that I did not like. I did not write a good hand; I saw he was not satisfied, and I determined to change my quarters as soon as I could find another place. CHAPTER VI. VOYAGE TO THE WEST INDIES — VALUE OF CIVILITY. My employers fitted out a large topsail schooner for the West Indies, and offered me the berth of supercargo,, whiqh I accepted, as I had a fancy for adventure. I went to Santa Cruz and a market loaded with flour, tobacco, rice, and kiln- dried meal. Finding the market of Santa Cruz glutted, I had reason to fear all the others were. I learnt, by conferring with other supercargoes, that most of them designed going to lee ward. I affected to agree to the correctness of their conclu sions, but in my own mind was satisfied that the farther we THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 37 went to leeward the worse, and that on a falling market the sooner a man sells the better. I had sailed in July, and taken with me for sea-stores a good stock of new Irish potatoes and bacon hams. On my arrival, as a rarity of the season, I sent as a present to the custom-house officer a barrel of the potatoes and one of bacon hams. He invited me to dine with him. I did so, and made myself as agreeable as I could, and found him very pleasant and friendly. I soon found I had struck the right chord, one which none had who had been there before me, and he seemed anxious for my success. Whenever that is the case with a West India custom-house officer, the way is made smooth. He intro duced me to an American merchant as his friend, asking all the aid he-feould give me. I proposed giving this merchant a commission to sell my cargo. He tried, but found the idea prevalent that there would be a glut, and a whole cargo could not be sold at any price. But he offered me free of charge a lumber-yard which he had, if I would land my cargo and retail it, and also lumber to make- shelters of. He invited me almost every day to dinner, and became very fond of me. I was very young, and he seemed disposed to exercise a guardian' care over me. The custom-house officer sent to beg another barrel of potatoes. I had but two left. It would not do to refuse him. I let him have it. I now began to unload, and found the custom-house officer's friendship very valuable, for he sent me all the bakers and grocers, and in a week after landing I had sold out at a handsome profit, instead of losing as I had, antici pated. All the other vessels from the United States except two had left port when I began to land cargo ; and all were under the impression that I was landing my cargo to get at the corn-meal which was at the bottom, which would do better at Santa Cruz than elsewhere, and that I designed running down with the balance. Of course, I did not unde ceive them, and did not land in^a very great hurry, not 4 38 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. much faster than I sold. Their going off, and leaving so few in port, caused rum and sugar to be very flat. I not only sold at a good profit, but purchased my cargo as directed —very low— at least fifteen per cent, under the general average. Altogether, I made about twenty-five per cent. on the adventure, while most others lost twenty-five per cent. I have been particular in mentioning all the inci dents of this adventure to show how far small civilities go ; perhaps I sold my potatoes, and bacon, and politeness on this occasion for at least $3000; for certain I am that, but for the tide of good fortune which these threw me into, I should not have done so well by $3000. The other supercargoes were a cold set, who seemed too stiff to make any advances or ask any favors. If ever the old adage, "that manners make the man," held good in any case, it did in this ; and so will it be throughout a man's life. There is no outlay which will return one such heavy inte rest as kindness and civility to his fellow-man. I care not what a man's talents or business qualifications may be; kind and pleasant manners are almost indispensable to success. No rule is without its exception, nor is this. Men do some times succeed with unpleasant manners; when they do, it is an exception to a general rule. A man's skill or talents might induce me to employ him, his bad manners or ill- temper to the contrary notwithstanding; but never if I could find a person of pleasant manners who would answer the same purpose, even if inferior. I would rather have the latter, because a man of disagreeable manners keeps us always out of temper ourselves and unhappy, and his talent and skill must be great indeed to balance such an objection. H one has naturally good feelings, the cultivation of kindness to wards mankind is much calculated to improve these feelings. It continually brings its own reward. It makes friends; we find ourselves beloved; and we are inclined to love all human nature. Such feelings continually improve our man- THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 39 ners, and our manners, in turn, give rise for a further in crease of the feeling. Happy is the man who, in the outset of life, has cause to love his fellow-man, for it is apt to give a cast then to his manners which fix them for life. On the contrary, if soured in the outset, he is apt to hate everybody, and everybody hates him. He is apt to make ill-natured remarks of those who wrong or slight him, and having done so, he has fixed them in his own mind as his enemies. Believ ing at first that he had cause for such feeling, he indulges it, and, having done so, he feels conscious that the other has cause to be his enemy. He so considers him, and his con duct shows it, and makes the other his enemy ; whereas in all probability at first there was no cause. for it. The sup posed wrong or slight grew out of a misunderstanding or the evil disposition of some mischief-maker, who, enjoying none of the world's respect himself, cannot bear that others should, and continually endeavors to poison the minds of persons against each other to destroy that happiness which, not being able to enjoy himself, he cannot bear to see en joyed by others. There are some who do this with so much art, giving such distant causes for the discontent, as hardly to be seen as the instigators of it; and then, apparently anx ious to allay it, pretend, Iago-like, to deprecate a misunder standing between such friends, and evince an anxiety to find reasons why there should be no offence felt, but find such only as are calculated to widen the difference, gloating all the time in the idea of their success. Oh ! how much unhappiness have I seen thus caused ! producing alienations between those who would otherwise have been the dearest friends, and which alienations, though the cause may be after wards ascertained, are never afterwards healed, because per sons, believing they have cause to think hardly of each other, are apt to say harsh things, and whatever reconciliation may afterwards take place, those things are apt to be recollected, and remain always as a canker in the heart. Between gen- 40 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. tlemen this is not so apt to be the case as where ladies are concerned, because the former are apt to demand explana tions, but these cannot be asked where ladies are parties, In my outset in life, I fortunately had none of these demons about me. I felt myself coldly treated and slighted by the world because of my want of wealth ; but this I viewed as an infirmity of human nature which all had to bear with who were circumstanced like myself — an evil which would be cured if fortune should ever smile upon me, and one which I was determined should be cured if human efforts could do it. I dwell upon this subject here, because I felt the influ ence all my life afterwards of the feelings which caused me to send this barrel of potatoes and bacon to the custom house officer. An inclination to propitiate his good-will, a matter of policy, you will say. So it was ; but it was an offer ing of good-will justifiable in a country like the West Indies, but which I would not have presumed on in our country, lest it might be viewed as an overture for favors. That was my object in Santa Cruz; not for any corrupt favors, but for justifiable facilities such as I obtained. But there I had learned that they were not so fastidious, and that much was to be gained by any act of politeness or kindness. And I had it clearly intimated to me that there was a mode to avoid the duty on my cargo. I could have saved at least half if I had chosen to do so; but I did not consider that my office required me to save the duties at the expense of right, and I would not do it. Little presents are earnests of good feeling, and throughout life they count largely, where judiciously made. There is no greater luxury of feeling, I think, than in making pre sents to those we esteem, where we can afford it. But it is a very expensive habit, and counts largely where no account is kept. Having been instructed to lay out the whole proceeds of my cargo in rum and sugar, I had no discretion except as THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 41 to my own commissions. These were about $600 — half of which I concluded I would invest safely, and the balance I would lay out in oranges, as I got them for $1 per hundred, and never knew them to sell in the United States for less than $4. On my return, I was the first supercargo that had got back, though others had gone out about the same time. My voyage had proved more profitable than my consignees had been led to hope, as all accounts represented a glut and gloomy prospects. Hope, however, was revived among shippers generally; but I told my consignees that other shippers would be disappointed — informing them how it happened that I had done so well. Time verified my pre diction ; when they returned, dreadful losses were found to have been sustained. I gained great credit for sagacity and good management, and was offered another cargo imme diately to go back. But there was a splendid brig on the stocks, about to be launched, called the " Catharine Shep herd," to be laden for the Mediterranean, which, I was told, I should have if I would wait for her, which I agreed to do. I found oranges, on my arrival, worth $10 per hundred, and was offered that for all I had, but heard that at Bichmond they were worth more. On one plan I had concluded to act — never to hazard over half for a larger price, where a reasonable one could be obtaine'd. I sold one-half for $10 per hundred, and sent the balance to Richmond : for which I finally got almost nothing — a lesson to be satisfied, for the future, with a good profit, where I could get it. Notwithstanding this loss, however, I still had about $1500. I went to Richmond to see my father, mother, and family, carrying some presents. My younger brother, Philip, was at school in Hanover ; but I had a sister, a lovely, beautiful, and affectionate girl, who doted on me, and no lover ever took more delight in pleasing his mistress than I did in pleasing her. One of my greatest joys was the expectation of meeting 4* 42 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. her, though she was not grown, and carrying her a handsome present. And then I had the most affectionate of mothers, whose approving smiles were always the greatest reward for a good action. The idea that I now had a sum which would aid my father made me very happy; and, after arriving at home, and telling of my adventures, I drew it all out, kept about $150, and handed my father the balance— about $1200 —which I told him I had no use for. " Very well, Bob," said he ; " what I have received from you is to your credit. This shall be added to it." " Just as you please," said I. On my arrival in Richmond, the report of the success .of my West India voyage had reached the ears of some of the merchants who had known me, and who had taken up a favorable opinion of me. Among the rest, was one rather noted for his literary taste, classical acquirements, and good sound sense, Mr. J. G. S., who was one of a select club that had induced Mrs. Peyton Mead Randolph to establish a sort of exclusive aristocratic boarding-house, at which the ton and elite of the city were alone admitted, and where boarding was very high. Mr. S., on meeting me, greeted me very cordially, congratulated me, and said : " If you have no other engagement, you must dine with me to-day." Whether I had any or not, I would have made it yield to dine with a man whose heart seemed so full of kindness for me, and whose attentions were so creditable. So, at the appointed hour, I attended. Most of those who were present knew that, but a short time before, I had been a merchant's clerk in Richmond, and it did not comport with their aristocratic notions to have such a one an invited guest to such a com pany. Mr. S. knew this; but he was a very independent man, yet deemed it proper, in my absence, to explain how it happened ; and in doing so, as I afterwards learned, exalted my merits far beyond my deserts. Whenever a young man rises to a condition which is above that which the world seems to have assigned him, every hand is raised THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 43 to pull him down, as an intruder ; but, if they find that a hopeless effort, and that he is likely to go up despite of opposition, there is an ostentatious effort to be foremost in patronizing him. No attentions are too great. That, how ever, I can hardly say was the case with this club, for they were all men of high breeding — Edward Roots, the Chester field of his day, being chairman of the club ; and they were all men of fine feelings. As I entered, Mr. S. met me very cordially, and as he introduced me to the company severally, I noted that I was received with an unexpected cordiality and kindness; some pleasant words were addressed to me by almost every one. At dinner, almost all asked to take wine with me ; and as every one present was almost as old again as I was, my situation would, to most young men, have been embarrassing. But one fortunate quality of my nature has, been, that I have never stood in awe of any company, however distinguished it might be ; nor have I sever lost my self-balance ; for I never felt anywhere that I was among my superiors, except intellectually. I knew I was often among those who thought themselves so ; but I had always a great opinion of my own family and kindred, and felt that temporary causes alone depressed me, which causes I would in time overcome — when I would reach the level to which I was entitled. Talent I always rever enced and yielded to, and was always willing to bow in deference to it. But to wealth, never. The rich fool I have always despised as much as the poor fool, and I had too much pride even to show any elation at any attentions paid me from any quarter, or to boast of them, as I would thereby have admitted they were more than I thought myself entitled to. It was always my pride to be grateful for attentions and kindnesses, come from what quarter they might ; and if ever, in my walks through life, an occasion offered to make a marked return, it was my greatest happiness to do it. This company, henceforward, seemed to consider me a sort 44 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. of protigi, and were always ready to exchange a kind word with me; and these attentions being noticed by inferior men, whose wealth gave them consequence in their own eyes, and in the eyes of a portion of the world, they, too, seemed disposed to be very condescendingly patronizing, and prof fered similar civilities. Yet, while I always expressed my obligations for their kindness, I managed to avoid accepting them. I was determined to maintain the position I had reached, and not sully my standing by accepting attentions from those who would not have proffered them but for the ex ample of their superiors who had no merit but their wealth; and while I would decline the dinner of the master, it gave me great pleasure to go into his counting-room, and there greet, with the warmest cordiality, his clerk, who was my old acquaintance. The Well-educated merchant, of a high order, is a man of the first order. The lawyer, from a habit of speaking, is more showy, and, by the world, is considered the more intellectual; but I have been upon the easiest and most intimate terms with both classes, and while the mere trader, sometimes called a merchant, is below the general medium, the high order of merchant is among the best in formed and the most intellectual men of our country. I went around to visit my friends at Fredericksburg, and, in a short time, was notified that the " Catharine Shepherd" was ready for her cargo. I took leave of friends and family, and went down to have her laden ; after which, we dropped down to Hampton Roads, and there lay, waiting for a fair wind. While detained, the owners were offered a good price for vessel and cargo, and sold her, which knocked me out of my voyage. To compensate me, they offered to load a ship, which they were daily looking for, immediately on her ar rival, and send me out in her. I returned home. But the ship did not arrive for a long time. THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 45 CHAPTER VII. ..I RETURN TO RICHMOND, AND UNDERTAKE THE MANAGE MENT OF MY FATHER'S COAL-MINES. My father now resided in Richmond, and I went frequently to his coal-mines to attend to his .business. I found, as I thought, very bad management by his superintendent; and his removal, with his family, to them seemed absolutely neces sary to save him from ruin. This seemed almost like death to the family. In the dilemma, Iproposed to go up and take charge myself. He said I was too young to command the necessary authority (I was not yet twenty-one). I told him if that was all the objection, I thought I could obviate it. He had great confidence in my being able to do what I thought I could ; so I went up. I very soon quarrelled with and discharged the overseer, who did not seem inclined to be directed by a boy. I procured another that I believed to be a good one, and told him that great responsibility rested on us. He engaged not to disappoint my confidence. Things took a different turn, and wore a brighter aspect. We sunk a new shaft, reached a fine body of coal, and sent it on rapidly to Richmond. It was now finding a reasonably good market, and I was in higlispirits. So it continued until the summer, when foul air got into the pits, and drove us out. This was, however, always the case at all the pits in the summer ; and all owners submitted to the evil with resignation. I was inexperienced, and not yet accustomed to submitting to diffi culties without an effort to overcome them. I could not bear to see fifty hands idle, and asked if there was no remedy. " None," said the manager, " until the weather gets cooler, and this may not be for two or three months." 46 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. CHAPTER VIII. MY SUCCESS IN EXPELLING FOUL AIR FROM THE COAL MINES A DANGEROUS ADVENTURE INTO ONE OF THEM. My father had been anticipating the event, and was resigned to it. While at sea, I had read an account of a ship's hold being cleared of foul air, by extending a pipe from the ca boose to the hold of the ship, and stopping off all other access for air. I determined to try the principle here. I had a furnace built, with a pretty high chimney, about ten feet from the shaft, and with an arch running to the shaft, which I had well covered with clay mortar to exclude the air. I then had wooden pipes made six inches square, and the joints pitched; the first with an elbow, to go under the arch, while the main stem went down into the shaft, the lower end pointed, so as to fit another on it below. The air was so foul that a candle would go out if let down ten feet. After making a fire in the furnace, closing the door, and daubing it up with mud, so that no air could get in, except through the pipe from the pit, I had a lamp let down, and, to my joy, found it descended below the pipe before it went out. I then had another joint added, and the connection filled with pitch to make it air-tight; sod%the lamp went to the bottom of this, without going out, and so on to the bot tom over two hundred feet, and the hands all went in to work again. In a few days, I recommenced the shipment of coal. Writing my father what I had done, he came up, and, after examining my plan, said it would save him a fortune. We now pushed on rapidly, and I had great hopes of extricat ing him from difficulty. But he was too far behind, and THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 47 was paying shaving interest on too heavy a debt. I found my efforts would be fruitless. I was wasting the dawn of my life, the most valuable part, without hope, and advised my father to give up, as he was evidently getting deeper and deeper into debt every year. He concluded to do so ; and made up a statement of his indebtedness to every one, among whom I was a creditor for two thousand seven hundred dollars. He requested me to present my account with others, saying I was entitled to a proportionate divi dend. I did so ; but gave it to him, and he gave it to his creditors ; and here we were all flat. I had thrown myself out of the line of business, and knew not how to get again back into it. I had foreseen the evil of doing so, but the great wish to extricate my father had caused me to do it. I had not money enough to buy me a suit of clothes, but obtained a suit for coal before all was too far gone. I thought I had a right to this. My elder brother was succeeding well in New York, and I knew he could save the family from want, and would do it. My younger brother had just quit school, and gone into a store a short time before, where he was making nothing; he wanted to study law, but had not the means to do it. Judge Bouldin, executor of the estate of David Ross, now applied to me to know if I would go to Kentucky to settle up that estate. If I accepted, a new direction was to be given to my destinies. I should leave the regular track of mercantile promotion; but especially that of supercargo, of which life I was much enamored, although the fate of the " Catharine Shepherd" warned me that it was not entirely without danger, for, after her departure for sea, she was never again heard of. A ship, arriving some time after at Norfolk, reported having seen part of a wreck (the stern) of a vessel at sea, supposed to be hers. This was all that was ever known of her or her crew. As this seemed a providential interpo sition in my favor (I was disappointed in not going out in 48 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. her), I will relate another, which afterwards occurred at my father's coal-mines. There was a pit about two hundred feet deep from which an entry had been driven towards another shaft for the purpose of getting air, and it only lacked one or two days' work to effect the object; this was before the ex periment with the furnace. If this communication could be made, we might be able to continue at work, as the air cir culating from one shaft to the other would probably keep out foul air. The only way to do the work was by heat ing heavy irons red-hot, and letting them down; before these cooled, heating a new set; bringing the others back, reheating them, and so on. The heat rarefied the air, and purified it for a short time, but the breaths of very few men would consume the pure air as fast as made, and, at best, it was but a temporary expedient. Living fire would not burn, or there would have been less difficulty. After using the hot irons some time, I found the lamps would burn at the bot tom of the shaft. If now we could work two days, night and day, we could effect this communication. I called on Willis, the overseer, to go down with a hand and begin the work. He told me if he did he should not expect to return alive. "Why," said I, "do you not see that the lamp burns?" " Yes," he replied, " but as soon as two breaths get down there, it will go out." Impatient at his opposition, I turned to a very resolute negro digger, named Peter Moody. I shall never forget his name, because of the event which oc curred. " Peter," said I, "are you afraid to follow me, if I will go down?" "Don't know, Mass Robert," said he; "long way under ground to go in damp air; but if you can go, I reckon I can." It was a deep hole — indeed, a depth of two hundred feet conveys to the mind almost as great an idea of distance as five hundred feet on a plane surface. " Well, Peter," said I, " I will give you and Joshua (an other digger) five dollars each if you can work that entry through, and I will stay with you. Mr. Willis, keep us well supplied with hot irons ; stand to your mules, boy, and THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 49 I will go down." Willis, seeming a little ashamed of letting me go, but not enough so to take my place, came up to the shaft, and looked down. Said he, " Mr. T., that lamp burns below with a very sickly light (a lamp had been let down with a string). I tell you, sir, I am an old miner, and it is not safe for you to go down." " Not entirely safe, Willis — but so much depends on it; I think, by aid of the hot irons, after we get down, tying bushes to each corve (the name of the box hung to the ropes in which coal is brought up), and moving them rapidly up and down, the air can be kept free enough to work in." " I tell you, sir," said he, " damp air is not to be trifled with." " I'll try the experi ment," said I, in a resolute tone. " Well, as you please, sir." Turning to the others who were around, said he, "Now mind what I tell you; mischief is going to happen here to-day." I went down ; the next rope was an old one, and con sidered too weak to bear a man ; so on that the tools were next sent down, which I took out. The rope was getting old and crazy ; it was expensive, and I did not like to have it renewed while it would last. The weight of two bushels of coal was about one hundred and forty pounds, with which it had once or twice broken ; but the hands always used the other rope to ascend and descend. Moody came down, and we proceeded to the end of the "communication-drift," where he went to work. This was a little rising from the shaft, say six feet. Carbonic acid gas, or choke-damp, as the miners call it, is of much greater specific gravity than the atmo sphere, and, of course, makes its appearance first in the low places. We had left a lamp at the shaft to note its effects on it, because it would show there before it would where Moody was at work. Before he had been at work an hour, I observed the lamp, which was about sixty yards off, assum ing a pale blue appearance, and heard indistinct noises from the top of the shaft. I knew if I moved towards it, Moody 5 50 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. would look round and see it, and rush for the rope, and, being the stronger, would leave me behind, probably to perish ; so I carelessly observed I thought a little whiskey would help him. " What say you, Peter ?" " Why, Mass Robert, I think it would." " Well, I will go and send for some;" and moved as fast as I could towards the shaft. Before I reached it the light was out, and I felt sensibly the suffocating influence of the choke-damp. If Moody did not come in a minute, he would be cut off. If he did come, and reached the shaft before I got started, he would pull me back and go up himself. But I called, with all my might, " Oh, Peter, the lamp is out !" He darted for his life, and I jumped into the cbrve, which was down, but to my con sternation found I was on the rotten rope. If I got out and waited for the other to come down, Moody would take it, as he could overpower me. My only chance, then, was to risk it; so I bawled out, "Drive for your life !" Away the mules went, and I was- fearful every moment that the rope would give way and precipitate me to the bottom. My great fear was that, in the vibration of the rope, the corve would strike under a piece of the curbing of the shaft, getting a strain thereby, which would certainly have broken the rope. ' I knew, too, that if I pushed off from one side with any vio lence, I would be apt to throw it to the other, and had to be extremely guarded. The meeting of the descending corve, coming with such rapidity, was another danger I feared. At that time the shafts were not divided as now. But I passed it, and reached the top in safety. Jumping out, I called below, " Oh, Peter, are you there ?" No answer, but a shaking of the rope. " Drive on," said I. " Do you feel his weight?" — to the driver. "Oh, yes, sir; he's there." " Very well ; drive gently. He's now above the choke- damp." Up he came, with his arm around the rope at tbo elbow ; his handkerchief tied around the rope and his body, under his arms, and his head hanging down on one of his THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 51 shoulders. Two hands took hold of him and drew him out, loosening his handkerchief; and he lay on the platform in sensible for an hour. But for the handkerchief, he never would have reached the top. I asked him how he came to tie his handkerchief around him. He said he felt himself choking, and knew he could not hold on; that, when I called to know if he was on the rope, he could not answer, and could only shake the rope, but was all the time perfectly in his senses. " Well," said Willis, " young folks think old ones are fools. I told you there would be mischief here to-day ; you thought I was scared, but I knew where the danger was." " Well, Mass Robert," said Peter, after he began to revive a little, " where's dat whiskey you was talk ing about?" " Oh, you shall have it," and accordingly I had it brought. " Mass Robert see de light burn blue — made him think 'bout whiskey — ha ! ha ! ha ! Oh, Mass Bob !" This was enough of choke-damp for me ; I was satisfied to try no more experiments. I ordered that no one should name this affair unless I permitted, for I knew it would make my father unhappy ; and I never told him of it until after the experiment with the furnace cleared the pit. He then shuddered, and said it was one of the most foolhardy acts of my life, and gave me no credit for it ; said it evinced less common sense than he thought I possessed, especially as I pretended to some knowledge of natural philosophy ; and, finally, I came to the conclusion that it was a very silly act, just such as many young men are guilty of who are anxious, in the eyes of the world, to seem bold at the expense of discretion and good sense. I did, however, think I could accomplish the work ; there was no vain show in my object; but Willis was a man of experience, and my not heeding his warning showed an over self-confidence and temerity which bespoke a lack of good judgment. It was a lesson, however, which was of value to me afterwards. I have always viewed my escape here, as in the case of the 52 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. " Catharine Shepherd," as an interposition of Providence to save me, as I hoped, for some future good purpose. CHAPTER IX. MY ENGAGEMENT TO GO TO KENTUCKY TO SETTLE AN ESTATE. Having visited my brother John, in New York, in com pliance with his request before accepting Judge B.'s offer, I found no opening there to justify my refusing it. My brother, knowing my wants, had sent me a small sum on loan to bear my expenses. It now behooved me to save every cent until I got some in hand, and to that end, instead of .returning by land, I took a packet and went by water. On reaching Bich- mond, I went to Judge B., and told him I had concluded, if he had not made other arrangements, to accept his offer ($1000 per annum, and expenses). He asked me my age. I told him. " Why," said he, " is it possible ? I had thought you older. I hardly know how to intrust such a weighty matter to one of your age." He explained the nature of the business, which was to settle up with several large estates in Ken tucky, jointly connected with R.'s, in which accounts for twenty years' standing were embraced of the most complicated character ; to investigate the titles of several hundred tracts of land entangled in almost interminable difficulties; ascertain their value, &c. " Now, sir," said he, " do you think yourself equal to the task ?" " I cannot tell," I replied, "until I try it. The accounts, I think, I am equal to ; I cannot conceive of any accounts so difficult that I cannot reduce them to or der." " None," said he, " so difficult that you cannot reduce to order ! That is speaking strongly. In my court, there are THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 53 some estates of immense amount, which have been hung up for twenty years, owing to the complicacy of the accounts." "Very probable," I replied; " but a good accountant would put them all to rights in time. Great patience would be ne cessary." " Suppose," said he, " I give you a hogshead full of papers bundled up, containing the transactions of an ad ministrator for twenty or thirty years, and no regular books kept, but the condition of the estate to be found out from those papers ; how would you do it ?" " Nothing plainer than the course. I would open a day-book, and begin with the first bundle in the hogshead, caring not which. I pre sume these are all claims in favor of or against the estate, vouchers, or bonds, contracts, &c. I would raise an account in favor of the administrator, as — 'Estate of D. R. to A. B., administrator, Dr.' If the first bundle I took hold of was not vouchers, I would lay it away in another hogshead. Then I -would begin on the first which was, taking out the top paper and numbering it 1, the second 2, and so on ; and in each entry refer to the vouchers, entering the date of each payment, and having an interest column to enter the interest in up to any given date. When the numbers should reach 100, I would tie up that bundle and label it, 'Vouchers 1 to 100;' when 200, then '100 to 200;' and so on until I had entered every voucher in the hogshead. Now I would take hold of the accounts of the estate against others, the bonds, contracts, &c, and make ' Sundries to the estate of Dr. Bonds receivable as follows : (Here give a list of all bonds by number.) Contracts same; Open accounts same.' If an inventory of the estate had been taken, as of course it had, I would charge the administrator with the whole of it as valued, deducting such portions as were found on hand not disposed of. Then, if he had kept a sales account, I would charge him with the amount of all sales, and reverse the inventory entry so far as such sales showed a variance ; assuming the inventory to be correct only so long as sales 5* 54 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. were not made ; but then putting the real in place of the assumed account, and striking a balance. If now anything herein stated is objected to, it is easy to rectify it, because, every voucher and claim being numbered and referred to in the entry, the paper on which the entry is based can be found in a moment. I suppose you understand, of course, I mean all those entries to be regularly posted in a ledger?" " Why, sir," said he, "you'd make a good master commis sioner." "If that is all that is necessary to make one, I could." " Well, sir, I will now ask you another question. Say here are one hundred tracts of "land in different parts of the State; which of them are sold we know not, nor which are good in title, value, &c. All this we wish to learn ; how will you go about it?" " I would make a list of the several tracts, giving the best description we have, and number them. I presume the records in Kentucky will show the deeds made; these I will have examined, and, where sold, cross the number to save further trouble about it. I would attend the legislature, and inquire of the members what they know of the lands in the region they represent, and obtain from them references to the best sources of information ; all of which I would enter in a note-book, and number the notes. In the -face of every note I would put, in red ink, the tract to which it referred. I would have a land-book in which I would copy the survey of every tract not sold, and leave several pages for all infor mation in regard to each tract. And to each I would attach the information from my note-book — this being a kind of journal; the land-book a ledger." " Well, I think that will do. Now, another question. Do you think you could find a needle in a haystack?" " I don't know, sir ; that might be a troublesome business ; but still, if the needle is there, it can be found if there be sufficient inducement to take the trouble." " Suppose now, sir, I hide a needle in a large haystack, THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 55 and let you pick a friend to see me do it; would you agree to pay me $5000 if you should not find it, provided I would pay you $10,000 if you should ?" " Yes, sir." " How would you do it ?" " I would first dig a trench around the stack, say two inches deep, throwing the dirt out. I would now begin and pull out straws from the stack one by one, carefully dou bling them up and putting them in a large tin pan, until I should get, say an ounce, which I would burn there. I could distinctly see in the ashes whether the needle was there. I would then throw away those ashes and continue repeating the process all around the circumference of the stack, gradually drawing to the centre, until I had burnt every straw. If, when this was all done, I had not found it, I would know it was within the ring cut around the stack. I would now commence and take two inches inside of that ring just as deep as the earth was loose, and I would take but a thimble ful at a time, laying it out in this tin pan, and examining it carefully, so that there could be no possible mistake; and, by the time I had finished the whole area of the circle, I must find the needle." " And, sir, do you think you could go through such a process ?" " Why not ? I could do it in a month, which would be earning $10,000 very easily." " Well, sir, I think you'll do. Any man who can carve out a certain plan, as I think you have, to find a needle in a haystack, can do this business; so we'll try, anyhow." My arrangements were soon made. Then there were no railroads, nor steamboats on the Ohio (September, 1817), except perhaps one or two that had commenced below the Falls; neither were there any stages; and horseback was the universal mode of travelling to the West — or in carriages or wagons. Having taken leave of my friends, I was soon on my way to Frankfort, Kentucky, then a sixteen days' jour ney from Richmond. It may be well here to note, in explanation of its bearing on future matters, that I had 56 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. regained the ground which I seemed to have lost by first going into a counting-house. Men of the highest standing took me into favor, invited me to dine with the first men of the State, and treated me with much respect. I found my opinions respected and of weight; and in company with my old schoolmates, who had rather been disposed to "part cable" with me, I found we occupied very different ground. They, to be sure, plumed themselves on their wealth, and held a high standing on that account in the social circles — higher than I held; but among men of business and intellect it was a very different thing. I would not have changed conditions with them.. The greatest struggle I had was leav ing my mother and a lovely sister, to whom I was most devotedly attached. The time of our separation was inde finite, and might be very long. My father and younger brother it cost me less of a struggle to part with, because men can bear such things better than females, and our feelings always respond to theirs for us, which made me feel the more for my mother and sister. There are a purity and devotion in the love of an affection ate sister which are akin to divinity. One of the great com forts I had in my undertaking was the hope that I would be able to evince my affection for this dear and lovely sister by supplying her wants. To be able to aid my younger •brother, too, who wished to study law, but whose resources were now cut off by the failure of my father, was also a reflection that strengthened my fortitude in leaving the land of my nativity and all I held dear on earth. But the means to do this were yet to be earned, and I had to return $100 borrowed of my elder brother, and $120 of a friend in Rich mond. This would take nearly my first quarter's salary, leaving nothing for such expenses of my own as were not chargeable to the estate. On the whole, the probability was that, before the third quarter, I would have nothing which I could spare. In the mean time, my brother would have to get along the best way he could. THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 57 CHAPTER X. MY FIRST HORSE-TRADE — VARIOUS OTHER ADVENTURES. I departed, and travelled almost entirely alone the whole route. I had a very fine horse, a good and easy traveller; but the weight of the papers I carried, together with my clothes, had nearly broken _ him down before I reached Bean's Station, near the point where Kentucky, Tennessee, and Virginia come together. About two miles before I reached that point, I saw, at the distance of two or three hundred yards ahead of me, in the road, before a house which seemed to be a tavern, a man beating a horse most unmercifully; another caught hold of him to stop him, and they continued scuffling in the road until I came up. One said to the other, "Dave, let me go!" "I won't, unless you quit beating that mare." "Let me go, I tell you; the mare is my own, and I'll beat her d d breath out of her body." "Well, Jim, you're a fool; the mare is the best animal you ever owned in your life; I doubt if she ain't the best animal in the county; but because she has too, much spirit for such a lubber as you, and won't move like a cow, you want to kill her : it's all nonsense, and you sha'n't do it." " What's the meaning of all this ?" said I. " Why," Baid the man holding the other, who was large enough to manage him, "Mr. Thompson here put this mare in a wagon ; she never was in harness before in her life, and was rather too spirited for him to ride; so he thought he would break her mettle by driving her in his wood wagon — and he don't know nothing about driving, either — and she made the other horses run away ; but they all ran right to 58 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. the stable, and there stopped, doing no harm ; and that's what Jim Thompson's making all this fuss about." " Well," said Thompson, "let me go." "Why, my friend," said I, "you won't help the matter by beating the animal; she seems a very fine one, and you are in a passion for nothing.'' " Yes," said Dave, " to vent his spite he'd kill the best mare in the county, worth at least $140." " Well, if you think so," said Thompson, "just give it to me, and take her ; but let me go, and I'll not hurt the mare." And Dave let him go. " I'll not own her twenty-four hours," said Thompson ; " I'll take her to Bean's Station, and sell her for whatever she'll bring." " Well," said I, " my friend, how will you trade for my horse ?" He gave a sort of careless glance at him. "Rather low in flesh," said he. " Yes," I replied, "or I would not trade ; in good order, he's equal to your mare." He came up, looked at him all round, felt his" ankles, took hold of his tail, raised it suddenly, let it go, and looked into his mouth. " How old do you call him ?" said he. " I do not know his age." "Past eight," he said. "May-be so; I do not know a horse's age." " Well," said he, " how'll you trade ?" " I'll give you $25 to boot." " Oh no ; that cock won't fight. Let me put your saddle on my mare, stranger, and try her," which was soon done, and she moved magnificently. " How do you like her 1" "Very well." "Yes, you may say that; and as for riding, she'll suit you as well as any. But I can't afford to keep her to ride, or I wouldn't take $60 to boot; but say $50, and you may have her." "No, I can't do it." "Well, what's the most you will do ?" " I'll give you $40." " Well," said he, " take her ;" and I was soon on my journey, upon the finest animal I ever backed. On arriving at Bean's Station, a man belonging to the hotel walked up to her, and threw his hand up before her eyes. " Where did you get that mare 1" said he. "About two miles back." " She's as blind as a THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 59 bat." "She is?" "Yes, sir; try her; ride her up against the railing ;" and I did so. She thumped her head against it. I then related what had occurred. " Exactly," said the man. " She did not run away with any wagon. A blind horse won't run away with anything. It was all a trick to take you in." "Very well," said I; "I'll have my horse and my money back." He laughed heartily. " That's not the way they do things." " May-be not; but I'll have my horse." " No, stranger. Take this as the cost of a lesson. You can't get your horse nor money again. They are an unprincipled set of scoundrels and bullies. If you had stayed there last night, you would probably have been robbed ; and if you go back and get into an altercation with them, they may beat you unmercifully, and perhaps rob you." " I can provide against the latter by leaving what I have, and that is not much, here." It was a very respectable hotel. " But' come what will, I'll get my horse again, or try.'' A vene rable, gentlemanly-looking man said to me, " It is a hard case, my young friend ; but you had better let it stand as it is." "I shall not do it," I replied, firmly. "I will leave my saddle-bags in your bar." I handed them to the bar keeper, and started back. When about a hundred yards off, one of the men called to me to come back, saying they would go with me. A South Carolinian, who was travelling, heard them say, as I rode off, that they feared some mischief would happen, and he desired the man to stop me, saying that he would go with me ; and then all the rest, about six or seven, determined to go. On arriving at the house, my horse was still -standing tied to the railing. I rode up to the man of whom I got the mare, and told him his mare was blind, and I must have my horse and money again. " Step here, Thomp son," said the man of the Bean Station Hotel. He took him out of hearing, and talked with him awhile. The man came back, and said he had found, after I left him, he had made no great bargain, and was now glad I had come back. He gave 60 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. me my money and my horse, and I went back in high spirits. I asked the hotel-keeper what made the fellow give up my horse so easily. "Why," he replied, "I was afraid of some mischief, and so made up a chunk of a story for your benefit. I told him, when you rode your mare against the fence, and found she was blind, you swore you would have your horse and money ; that I had told you it was useless, and that you would get terribly drubbed if you went back to attempt it; that you said very well, if that was the game to be played you were ready to take a hand at it ; and that you would have your horse and money or somebody's scalp; that we all saw from your manner there would be miscbief, and we asked you to stop until we could come along; that the South Carolinian had said he would make one in the scuffle ; that you were both well armed, and mischief would come out of it if there was any difficulty about the horse, and he had better give him up. As to your threats, he said he didn't care a d — n ; but he got no great shakes of a bar gain, and was willing to rue." " Well," said I, " I am very much obliged to you. I had no idea of taking any man's scalp, but I intended to have my horse." "How would you have got him, if he had re-, fused to give him up ?" "I don't know. I intended to let events take their course, trusting to good luck, believing in some way or other I would get him." I thanked my Caro lina friend heartily for his aid, and we both concluded we had escaped an adventure on very good terms. Having, on a former occasion, seen the force of conscious guilt in a boat's crew who had stolen a load of coal,- say sixty bushels, from my father's landing, these two events went far to convince me that it is hard for guilty men to have courage; and that there is but little danger in encoun tering them where they cannot overpower and make way with you without being discovered. Having, one morning, gone to my father's coal-landing, and missed a quantity of THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 61 coal — seeing the pile broken, since the day before, when none of our boats had been up — I knew it was stolen by some boat going up the river. I mounted my horse, and went up to Columbia, thirty miles, where I stayed all night. I knew the boat could not have passed. Here I got upon a descending boat, and told them I was going down to catch a thief. Just above Goochland Court-House, I descried, at a distance, in a rapid part of the river, the coal on a boat as cending. I desired the captain of the boat I was on to run close along-side. He did so. They passed like arrows. I jumped into the coal-boat, and, being armed, called to tho man at the helm to put his boat down stream instantly. Con scious of the cause, he obeyed. He was a white man — the two bow hands, negroes. I carried them to Goochland Court- House landing, close by ; but while I was preparing to have them taken care of, the white man dodged round a house, and made his escape into the woods. The negroes and boat I secured, and had the former put in jail, who were dealt with according to law. The coal, being proved, was sold for my father's benefit. These two events gave me an idea that, by acting boldly in opposition to guilt, a man would, nine times out of ten, come out safely ; and, indeed, that, on the score of safety alone, where a man is certainly in the right, a per fect self-possession and determined firmness, without being oppressive, will almost invariably save him from difficulties. The great point is, to know where to stop. Few men have self-control enough, when their rights are invaded, to stop when they have repelled the aggression. They are almost certain to " carry the war into Africa," and a fight or duel ensues ; whereas, when the aggressor yields, if the offended party would just say, "That's sufficient, sir; if you intended no offence, no harm is done; I am satisfied," here the thin<» would end, and the bystanders would all admire the coolness and dignity of the offended. But he often, where his pas sion gets up, returns an indignity for the supposed one re- 6 62 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. ceived, leaves no opening for reconciliation, and a conflict is inevitable; often, too, by becoming the party in the wrong. This a man ought never to do. Be sure you're right, al ways, and let that be evident to every one. Public opinion is then with you; and, if mischief becomes unavoidable, you are doubly armed by your proud consciousness of right, and are almost certain to be victorious in any encounter. Self- possession is the great key to success in almost anything, hut in nothing so much as where personal difficulties occur. It paralyzes an adversary, fills him with dread, and always leaves you in a position for amicable arrangements ; where as, the man who is sensible of his own lack of courage has to supply its place by lashing himself into a fury to hide his agitation. In wandering from my narrative thus, occasionally, to in dulge in such reflections, it is because, when they are sug gested by any event, I like to bring them out, lest I might forget them; for this narrative is designed as a lesson for your guidance, and the moral at any time brought to mind is the result of events which have happened to myself, as you will see in my progress, and by which the said moral has been brought to mind. It is a philosophy founded upon experience. I will now proceed. After getting my dinner, I ordered my horse, to proceed on my journey. Said a gentleman at the table, " Have you examined your pistols, to see what they are loaded with?" " Why?" said I. " Because, about two weeks since, a tra veller having spent the night here, being told he had a dreary road to travel, where robberies were sometimes committed, concluded to examine his pistols. The priming was all right; but, as they had been loaded some time, he thought it safest to draw the loads and put in fresh ones. In doing so, he found, after taking out the balls, that in place of powder his pistols were loaded with ashes. He recollected that a man had slept in the same room with him who was THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 63 then absent, and he was convinced that man had, during the night, made the substitution, and that he would be waylaid by him on the road. He reloaded, picked his flints, and made sure that he had everything right. He then pro ceeded on his journey. About five miles beyond Clynch Mountain, where the road turns suddenly around the square edge of a rock, in a dark gorge overshadowed by foliage, his horse's bridle was suddenly seized, and his purse demanded. The traveller, being on the look-out, had his pistols cocked, and loosely fixed in his belt. He suddenly drew one, and shot the man dead on the spot. He proved to be the very fellow who had slept in his room. The traveller came back, and made the event known. The neighbors went and found him ; he was killed so suddenly that he never spoke. He was a traveller that no one knew, and there was no paper or name about him by which it could be ascertained who he was." Of course, I reloaded and primed my pistols, and saw that they were in good shooting order, and took my departure through the same route. Just before reaching Clynch Mount ain, I came upon a very fine white sulphur spring, which would be very valuable in any settled country.* CHAPTER XI. CURIOUS ADVENTURES, AND SOME REFLECTIONS IN REGARD TO THE FIRST SETTLEMENT OF KENTUCKY. The stand I aimed for was fifteen miles off. I supposed I had plenty of time to reach it ; but Clynch Mountain is so steep and so high that it was very tedious to get over, and the sun had nearly set when I reached the bottom on the western side * I note this in passing. 64 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. where I found myself in the most dreary-looking wilderness I ever saw; the hills so steep on each side of the road that the limbs of the trees on their sides, after I had travelled a few miles, seemed to interlap and form a canopy, which shut out the heavens from view; and upon such a road I found myself overtaken by night, about five miles from the stand at which I expected to spend the night, and with Clynch River to ford. I could not help wondering if it was possible, as I was told, that this pass over Clynch Mountain, and this general route, was the best except that by Kenhawa, and the only other practicable pass, at that time, between Virginia and Ken tucky, with about three hundred miles of mountains between the two points deemed inaccessible. Since that time, I know other traces have been cut ; but it was said, then, that there* were no others. If so, how Kentucky was ever settled, seemed strange to me, for the principal emigration was by this route. It appeared to me that one hundred men could have kept back any force from crossing Clynch Mountain, by merely rolling rocks down upon them, or could have destroyed them in the gorges after they had passed. What a disposition for adventure must have possessed those who first penetrated this wilderness, filled as it was with hostile savages, who would sometimes surprise cavalcades of families on the route, and murder nearly all of them; and still, in the face of those facts, others would follow, with a strong probability of sharing the same fate. And what for? Not to get cheap land and good, for there were1 millions of acres on the east of this wilderness yet unoccupied, to be had for almost nothing. But to those first adventurers there seemed a charm in the very dangers which attended their enter prises. Surely no such people were to be found anywhere else. When we see the Ohio River, affording so much greater facilities for settling what is now the State of Ohio, and that there was already a fort on its border (Fort Du- quesne — now Pittsburg), to which emigrants might rendez- THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 65 vous and take their departure, and yet that Kentucky was first settled — indeed a long time first — it shows the difference in the character of the early emigrants to each State. At first those emigrants clustered together in stations, and forted themselves in, working the land outside, with rifles by their sides, and were often shot down by the Indians in the adjoin ing forests; but still others would take their places; the Indians would be pursued, sometimes overtaken, when a desperate fight would ensue, and perhaps half of each party would be killed. Sometimes the whites would be taken prisoners, and slowly put to death by the most excruciating tortures which could suggest themselves to the Indians; but most commonly by being burnt at the stake. A constant habit of facing danger causes people finally to disregard it, and soon families would leave these stations, and make stations of their own, often be attacked by numbers of Indi ans, and succeed in driving them off, and often whole fami lies would be butchered. A young man or boy, who would show any symptoms of fear, would be almost turned out of his father's house; the family would have considered them selves disgraced. The very women were heroines ; the men necessarily became as fearless as lions; and a hunt after Indians was a matter of sport, although the Indians were as brave as they were, and as skilful with the rifle, but had not so much judgment. In no European battles have such losses keen sustained in proportion to numbers, as in those Indian fights. Sometimes half of each party would perish, for it was understood on each side that no quarter was expected or shown. Such a life necessarily rendered every man a soldier of Spartan character, capable of the most desperate undertak ings, and knowing not what it was to be conquered. Such traits of character, too, are contagious, and all the settlers in the adjoining territories, by intercommunication with the 6* C3 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. Kentuckians, if they had not originally the same valorous spirit, finally imbibed it, until the whole western population partook very much of the same qualities, which were con spicuously shown at New Orleans and in Mexico. To be sure, the volunteers from other States fought equally well in Mexico; but the West first led the way, where a handful of men maintained their position against armies, and where " retreat" was a word they did not understand the meaning of. When the true history of this war is written, it will be more like fable than fact. General Taylor, in the heart of Mexico, is ordered .to give up his regulars and fall back from Saltillo to Monterey. He sees, if he does it, that it will re quire a much greater force to hold his position there than where he is, and lose- him all the country he has conquered, and much of his credit. The day before the battle of Buena Vista, he writes to a brother : " Tho administration, by taking all my regulars, are determined to force me to retreat or resign ; but I will do neither." The next day commenced the battle of Buena Vista, with between four and five thousand raw volunteers against twenty thousand regulars under Santa Anna, in which Taylor was completely victorious. But equal success attended our army afterwards under Scott, with many volunteers from the Eastern States; yet they were inspired by the example of those under Taylor. But, besides hard fighting, there was a skill in planning by Scott which almost insured victory with any troops. But I- am rambling from my subject. After it became dark, I knew I was in the road only because I could not get out of it. Finally a path led off to the right; where an opening occurred between two hills, and my horse took this instead of the main road. He soon stopped, and snorted with fear. I tried to urge him on. He would not go. I had often heard it said that horses had a great instinct of danger, and the idea, which struck me was, that he saw or smelt some animal that he was afraid of. I tried to quiet him, that I might listen; THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 67 but he whirled, and evinced the most frantic apprehension. I could hold him only with great difficulty. But, after riding back a short distance, patting him en the neck, and talking soothingly to him, I got him quiet, and sat five minutes per fectly still, to ascertain whether there was any noise or evi dence of danger. I could hear nothing. The country I knew was the home of all the wild beasts of the forest — panthers, bears, &c. He might have smelt or seen one. What was I to do ? If I attempted to get back to Bean Sta tion, there was doubt about finding my way, and a chance of breaking my neck in passing Clynch Blountain. Not being able to determine what to do, I sat still, listening and pon dering, I suppose, fifteen minutes, but could hear nothing. All was as still as death. "This will not do," thought I; so Lurged my horse in a slow walk forward, until he reached the point he had turned from; here he stopped and snorted again ; I did not urge him on, but patted him on the neck, and talked to him in a low tone. He became quiet. I urged him on. He would not go. I sat on him quietly to listen again — could hear nothing ; but presently imagined I could smell blood. I reasoned with myself on the power of imagination, and tried to satisfy myself that it was imaginary. If so, however, the imagination was very strong, for it became more and more evident every minute that I did smell blood. What now was I to do? I could not get my horse forward. If a murder had been committed, the murderer was probably not then there; so I concluded to dismount, and lead my horse, keeping one pistol in my hand cocked. My horse followed me with great reluctance, snorting _ every minute. Finally I found the object of his terror. It was a beef, so far as I could judge, in the road, with the hide that evening taken off. I got him by, and mounted him again. Soon a similar occurrence took place, with the same result. After getting on a mile or two, I saw a glimmering light at a dis tance — a joyful sight, I can assure you. I pushed on to it, 68 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. and found it a miserable little log hut, with one room, a man, his wife, two grown daughters and several smaller ones. It was no place to stop, if it could be helped. But stop I was determined I would, unless my station was close by. But I found, on inquiry, I was off ray road, and no chance for another house. I told the occupant I should be under the necessity of asking shelter for the night. Well, he said, such as he had he would share with me. They had supped, but soon got me some bacon, eggs, and milk, with a warm corn hoecake — the sweetest supper I ever ate in my life. The natural good feeling shown soon put me at rest as to my personal safety ; but I deemed it prudent to let it be known in some way that I was not worth murdering for my money or horse. I asked how far it was to the " Crab- Orchard." He told me. I asked the price of travelling. He told me. I remarked, my horse I had thought able to take me the journey, and I had provided money enough to carry me there, but he began to give out, and I had to travel slow, and was afraid I might run short before I got to my journey's end. " Ah ! well," said the old man, " if you do, this is a plentiful country ; just tell the people where you stop how it is, and you will find no difficulty." I was curious to see how we would be stowed away when we went to bed. Presently the old man said to me, "Well, stranger, let us go and feed your horse." I went out with him — saw him fed in a pen — no stable ; he had none. He kept me there about half an hour, when we returned, and found the old lady and all her daughters in bed ; the daughters and chil dren all on one pallet, and the old lady on another, upon which there was also room for the old man, and the bed- left for me. I told them that would not do ; that I could not think of depriving them of their bed — to take it, and give me their pallet. No, nothing else would do ; I had to take it. The old man and myself had to rise by light, and go out, to let the mother and daughters get up. I concluded THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 69 to get my breakfast before I started.- I asked him about the story I heard at Bean Station. He said it was true, and told other stories. Said it was best for travellers not to go alone — that several " bad jobs" had occurred about Bean Station. It was where the roads from Virginia, Kentucky, Tennessee, and the Carolinas all came together, and was known as a good stand for robbers, who were prowling about to see whom they could have a chance at. I told him of my horse swap, except giving boot, which I concealed, that he might not know I had any money. " Yes, sir," said he; " and they do tell hard tales about travellers who stop at that house." I asked him what ; but he would say nothing more — shook-his head ominously, but remarked, "No man's stock, house, or life would be safe who was known to say anything against them." I asked what meant those beef carcasses that I had passed on the road ? He said a drove of beeves had taken the distemper ; those had died the day before, and had been skinned.- After breakfast, I asked him my bill. He said nothing. I told him I must be allowed to pay, for I- was aware he could not keep travellers for nothing. Well, he said, he charged fifty cents when he did charge, but "being as how my horse travelled slow, and I might get out of money, he would not charge me anything." I pulled out fifty cents, and forced him to take it, saying, if all were as moderate as himself, I thought I could get on before my money gave out. Two meals, a night's lodging, and my horse for fifty cents ! 70 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. CHAPTER XII. HISTORY OF A SUICIDE AND OTHER MATTERS. I have had occasion to remark that nature has a homoge neous tendency, as well morally as physically. As all parti cles of matter of the same kind tend to aggregate and form one mass, so are similar feelings, propensities, qualities, and acts apt to be generated about the same spot, or at the same period or age ; one begets another. If a little village pro duces one great man, it is apt to produce two ; the same of a neighborhood ; witness about thirty miles square, below the Blue Ridge in Virginia, has produced three Presidents of the United States. The town of Russelville, in Kentucky, has produced Bibb, Crittenden, and others; and wherever blood has been once spilt, more is apt to be spilt. This idea is suggested by the fact that an old acquaintance and friend of mine, about twenty years after the time I am now writing of, committed suicide at Bean Station. If asked for a reason, I would say that familiarity with scenes of blood, by wit nessing them, or hearing them related, deprives them of their horror ; sets us to thinking of them ; and if a man has any idea of committing suicide, he is more apt to do so under such circumstances than at any other time. This friend, whose name I will not mention, was one of the most interesting men I ever knew. A man of fine education, high-toned feelings, the most lofty sentiment of honor, and the nicest sense of propriety conceivable, but sensitive, and abhorring all obligations to his fellow-men, which grew out of anything like dependence on them, to an equal degree. Accustomed to the best society, and with expectations which THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 71 justified him in supposing he would be able to maintain him self therein, but in which he was disappointed. He had been raised a merchant, but had no taste for the profession ; he had no business habits ; his mind seemed always restless and without a particular aim. Indeed, although a man of remarkable intelligence, the finest taste for literature and the fine arts ; a fine singer, with a deep, manly, sonorous voice, and feelings which gave interest to every tone, either in song or conversation ; yet his qualities were all ornament al. He had no one that was useful or available for making a support. As an apology for him, his most intimate friends said, that he had been long attached to a lady in Kentucky, who was as much attached to him ; that he loved her to dis traction, but was too honorable to doom her to poverty, as he believed he would by marrying her. She saw this, and remained single, still hoping for a change. But his im patient feelings and his wild fancy could not brook the drudgery of business ; in fact, his mind was incapable of it. It was not disciplined — had no method in it ; he had no en ergy for want of those qualities, and for want of confidence in his business judgment, of which he had none. Like a ship, under full sail at sea without a helmsman, he was tossed on every billow, but seemed to have no object or aim for which he was steering. I never saw him in any society that he was not the most interesting man there. All his views were correct, as were his moral reflections in an emt nent degree. His conversation was rich in imagery ; his metaphors and figures were beautiful, and there was a glow of warm eloquent feeling imbuing all his conversation, which was perfectly enchanting. But he was a gilded cloud ; while throwing brightness, hilarity, joy all around him, with a laugh which seemed to come from his whole system, and spread its contagion through the company, there was, never theless, perceptible upon his countenance a wild gloom, which told that there was a worm beneath gnawing tipon his 72 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. happiness. One of the finest painters in Kentucky, Jewit, considered his face one of so much character that he asked liberty to take his portrait, which he did. Another painter, Allen, of fine penetration into human character, said, upon looking at it, " That face looks to me like that of one who would some day commit suicide." What a compliment to the painter's skill and the judgment of the critic ! He concluded he would turn author, and wrote a work on moral philosophy. I never saw any one who had seen it; but all who knew him were satisfied it must be good in every thing but its practical application to the affairs of life. It was supposed to be too sublimated; but, as he never submit ted it to any one but the publishers, who did not feel disposed to publish it at their own expense, and he was unable to do it, he burnt it. I saw him in New Orleans afterwards, and the girl of his affections, after waiting ten years upon him, with hope lessening every day, finally married. I had met with some heavy misfortunes, which made me then very gloomy. He was one evening in my room, when I rather gave way to my feelings, and it seemed to kindle a sympa thetic fire in his bosom. I seemed drawn nearer to him; and deep as were my feelings, so much deeper were his that he reminded me of Milton's description of Satan, where he says : — " Myself am hell — And in the lowest depth, -a lower deep, Still threatening to devour me, opens wide, To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven." He raised the very hair upon my head. " Yes, sir," said he, " I will roam the woods, where I shall not encounter again the power of man; where I will breathe the air which the beasts of the forest breathe, and where, like them, I shall be free. My dog and my gun shall be my companions." I remarked to a friend next day that talked rather wild. "I hardly knew what to make of him. He went to THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 73 Texas — lived there until the war with Mexico broke out. I then met him there, found him in high favor, and acting as a confidential agent of the government. Some time after this, he was sent on a mission to Washington. He had to go into the lower part of Kentucky, and thence travelled on by way of Bean Station. While there, he determined to commit suicide; wrote to a friend in Kentucky to come and take charge of his papers ; said he could endure existence no longer; wrote a short note to the innkeeper, apologizing for bloodying his house, and then blew out his brains with a pis tol. In this tale there is not a word of fiction or exaggera tion. His character, so far from being overwrought, is but feebly depicted. It may be wondered that I should stop in the course of my narrative to give the history of another. It is in accord ance with my purpose. The object in giving an account of my own life is not because I conceive it to be one of suffi cient interest to be read for itself, but to point out to my son the lessons which it furnishes; and, as this character which I have just drawn is a striking instance of the unhappiness attendant upon tastes and habits of an expensive character, unsustained by business qualifications to procure a revenue to gratify them, I desire to hold it up for his contemplation. He would have been among the most perfect of men if he had not wanted discipline of mind, method, and business habits. These are qualifications which no young man should be without, let his fortune be what it may; for, wanting them, his fortune will soon melt away, and from the time he comes into possession of it, he may be compared to a man on the top of a cone-shaped mountain. He can travel in no direction, but he must go down hill. He, starting with his fortune down hill, will probably meet the man of business ascending, about half way. There they pass; the man of business approximating daily nearer and nearer the pinnacle of fortune, while the man who had a fortune is daily descend- 7 74 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. ing nearer and nearer to the vale of poverty. Soon the two will have exactly changed positions. This is the history of almost every young man of fortune. They are not pre sumed to stand in need of business knowledge. Often, their fathers will not teach it to them ; but more often the belief that there is no necessity for it makes it so irksome to the young man that he cannot apply himself, and will not learn. In such a case, the best fortune which could befall him would be for his father to fail before the son is yet too old to learn ; for the experience of life in America shows almost as regular an alternation from wealth in the sire to poverty in the son, and from poverty in the sire to wealth in the son, as if it were a legal regulation of the country. The game of life is like many other games. There is a boy who has very little to stake. He sees that, to avoid losing this little, he must learn to play the game well, and not to commence it until he is master of it. When fully trained, he turns out with his very little stock. His wealthy companion taps him patronizingly on the shoulder, and pro poses a game. At it they go. The wealthy man, having ample fortune, considers it beneath him to learn the game. He can afford any losses he may sustain, and bears them with a smile; the poor boy, with his knowledge of the game, always wins, until finally the positions of the two are changed, as I have stated above. If I am asked, what I consider business qualifications, I answer, a training of the mind to method and to application ; the making of the mind, in its raw militia state, yield to dis cipline, and become a regular. If specific instances be asked, I reply, if he is to be a merchant, go into a merchant's counting-house. If he is to be a lawyer, and can obtain a good berth, with a knowledge that he is only serving for a lesson, and soon to leave it, I say still, go into a merchant's counting-house. If he is to be a farmer, or gentleman of leisure, or anything else, I say, go into a merchant's count- THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 75 ing-house, provided you can be admitted to the desk, or get soon in the road, to reach it. I do not mean a retail mer chant, but a large wholesale dealer, with foreign correspond ence, etc.; a great many papers, bank transactions, corre spondence, etc., requiring method and thought to comprehend the business. No other profession that I know of embraces so wide a field requiring method, unless it be an extensive land-office. But I would prefer the merchant's counting- house, because it brings you more into contact with mankind — an important study. I have had occasion to note several instances, where young men, originally intended for mer chants, after going through their regular course, have de termined on the study of law, and I never knew a case of the kind where such did not come to be eminent in their profession, and an overmatch for any member of not more than naturally equal intellect. But their great advantage was in the greater amount of business which they could do. With a hundred suits, the clerical lawyer could refer to any one, and tell you its whole condition in a moment, for he has everything so methodically arranged that it takes him no time to find any paper; besides which, he would have a book in which every suit would be entered, with every step taken noted, a docket of his own, with his own notes of all the steps necessary to be taken, and of all that had been taken; then the strong points in his case, with references to authorities. Ordinarily methodical lawyers keep a sheet of paper as a brief, on which such steps are noted; but a book is better. But then the ordinary lawyer is always at a loss to find his papers, and his accounts are kept clumsily, and neglected. His bonds "and notes for fees, and his receipts, are all in con fusion, and cannot be found when wanted. The clerical law yer has each put up in bundles, numbered, and listed by number, so that they can be found in a moment. His chief advantage, however, is not in knowing what to do, but in the habit of doing it. A lawyer might soon learn 76 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. what to do; but nine out of ten, when they open a bundle of papers, would hurriedly put them up in confusion, in tending to arrange them at another time; but that other time never comes; and when he next has to hunt up a paper it takes him four times as long as if he had put all back again properly. 'Tis not the knowledge of what ought to be done, which he wants, for in a week any man could learn this; but it is a fixed habit of doing it — a habit made natural by practice, and which is only acquired in some office. I would proceed with my views on this head more at large; but my wish is to intersperse lessons with my narrative, and not make them too tiresome. Broken doses of medicine sometimes act best; so of lectures. CHAPTER XIII. MY ARRIVAL IN FRANKFORT — MEETING WITH A NAME SAKE — ADVANCES TO HIM AND REBUFF. I RECEIVED my instructions how to get into the main road again, and now took my departure. During this day, I was overtaken by a gentleman from Scott County, Kentucky, Major Flournoy, very intelligent and agreeable, travelling my whole route. This was a great relief to me, and my after journey was comparatively pleasant to Frankfort, the seat of government, my destination. While pulling off my leggins, I heard a gentleman in the room called by my name. It was music to my ear. I walked up to him with warm feelings, and remarked : " Sir, I think I heard your name called." " That is my name, sir," he replied. "It is also mine," said I; " and thinking we might be related, I concluded to ascertain." I was dressed THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 77 in travelling garb, muddy and dusty, and had not changed my shirt for several days, which was dirty. He looked at me from head to foot, and observed, " Kentucky is full of ." "Ah!" said I, "it is an uncommon name in Vir ginia," and turned from him instantly. It is difficult to con ceive what a shock it is to the warm confiding heart to be so received. My feelings, pent up by a long journey, wanted vent: I wanted something for my affections to take hold of; I could have loved any one of my name, who was worthy, and who would have reciprocated the feeling. I was naturally of an affectionate disposition always ; all my relatives were affectionate; and it was a principle with them to nourish this affection, as the greatest source of human happiness. An aunt of mine, the most splendidly intellectual woman I ever saw, considered it a part of her religious duty to visit all her sisters once a year, unless they could visit her. Her husband was a merchant; he could not always go with her, and he could not bear her absence; but she would say to him, if his business would not allow of his going, she must ; that, next to his own, the love of her sisters was dear to her (she had no brothers living at a distance) ; long absence would estrange it; and while on this earth, if she could help it, that should not happe^ Never were sisters, or their children so attached to each other ; all the cousins were like brothers and sisters, and loved each other most dearly. Nothing grows so1 strongly by cultivation as affection. Nothing sooner wears out by neglect; and there is a happiness resulting from warm affection among relatives which cannot be bought by money, and which money can furnish no substitute for. It refines the feelings, makes the heart virtuous, sharpens our sense of honor, and ennobles our whole nature. Oh, how little do those reflect on the consequences of the smallest neglect of a worthy relative, which is sometimes the result of fallen . fortunes ! If the heart is sensitive, it is almost death to the slighted; and the injury can never be repaired. Like the 7* 78 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. broken bowl, the parts may be cemented together, but the crack will forever show. From the common world such things are matters of course, and are little regarded; but from relatives they sink deep into the heart. It must be a rare family indeed, with as many branches as mine, if all were blessed with such correct feelings, as to have treated me with equal affection, under all circumstances. But few indeed have not, fewer than in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred in the usual run of families. But still there are exceptions, and with as much pain to me from the reflection that, by such conduct the door is forever closed to a return of our former feelings, as from the injury to my feelings at the mo ment; for such an event never did occur without a, conviction, on my part, that the time would come when conditions would be changed, and the authors of the injury would regret their conduct more than I did. He who, being prosperous for the moment, is unfeeling enough to trample on a relative in mis fortune, should bear in mind, as a mere matter of policy, that this world is in a continual state of revolution — always changing, and it may happen that positions will be reversed. These reflections are suggested by the conduct of the man before named, not that I had any claim on him, but it brought to mind subsequent events, foj\ though an un paralleled prosperity attended me for a period, so long as I kept my affairs under my own control ; yet, in expanding, I experienced a reverse which had well-nigh ruined me, and fell with a weight, which it was supposed I could never rise under, and from which time it might be desirable to get clear of me. Time, however, has disappointed such expec tations. The great evil growing out of such a state of things is the necessity for some justification to the public for such conduct. The party slighted must therefore be blamed for something; but, being a relative, of course it cannot be told. Nothing more than insinuations are indulged in, and it is a rare accident if you ever hear of them; but you will see by THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 79 the conduct of the associates of your slanderer that some thing is wrong; their minds are poisoned against you; they give great credit to the high-toned feelings of your relative, who has evidently cause for his demeanor towards you, but would not for the world make it known — oh, no, not he ! Of all the characters, abhorrent in the eyes of Heaven, I think such superlatively so. So far, however, as such conduct was calculated to injure me, I have deprived it of its sting, as well as I have done the same to all imputations of in justice from any quarter, by a general proclamation, that, in any case of difficulty between myself and any one, I am will ing to leave the matter to arbitration, by men mutually chosen, or adopt any mode whatever that is calculated to de termine what is right and just between us ; and this I will always do with any man. With these reflections, I will now return to my narrative. I now shaved, washed, dressed myself in a handsome new suit of the latest cut, which I had brought out with me, and was transformed from a dirty traveller into a genteel man of fashion. The hotel-keeper happened to have removed from Richmond, and knew my father. He introduced me to some gentlemen present, and while in conversation with them, this character who had rebuffed me so unhandsomely came up, and remarked : " I have been reflecting, sir, and have come to the conclusion that we may perhaps be related. What was your father's name ?" " And I have also been reflecting, sir, and have come to the conclusion that we are not related;" turning on my heel from him. I walked to another part of the house, and, although this man and myself were afterwards thrown together often for fifteen years, and he made every effort to become intimate with me, I nevSr would allow him to approach nearer than cold civilityde- manded. After I was married, this man was so civil to your mother that she often asked me why I was so cold to him. "Because," said I, "I do not like him, and never can. 80 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. When I have once proffered a man my good feelings, and he rejects them, he can never obtain them afterwards." The only letter of introduction I had here was to a gentle man of the most eccentric character — a hermit in the midst of society ; one of the most intelligent of men ; indeed, con sidered by Judge Bibb equal in intellect to Jno. J. Critten den, both of whom studied with him. But he had no asso ciates; he affiliated with nobody. My business was a great deal with him. His father's estate, and the estate I had to wind up, were so connected — R having an interest of one- third in Mays — that we were unavoidably thrown much to gether. He was even a better informed man than the sui cide I have named, and of finer literary taste. His conver sation was as chaste and pure as the finest literary work, hut he was the very antipode of the other. He was as cold as the top of Mont Blanc. He seemed devoted to nobody; and yet his enthusiasm could be aroused in speaking of the merits of books, or even of ladies whom he admired; but it seemed an enthusiasm without feeling — admiration, not love. When he laughed, though he did so sometimes most heartily, his laughter seemed all in his face ; it did not convulse his body, and seemed not to go below his throat. He was timid, shy, and altogether without the manly qualities which cha racterize the West ; void of energy and industry, but more thorough in whatever he did than any lawyer of his day. I never saw such perfect instruments of writing as he drew,, nor more strongly or beautifully expressed. He had a per- ' feet conception of natural justice, and seemed to defy any law which was in violation of it. His notions of allodial rights seemed to put him above all law in violation of them. He could not conceive that any law could be valid which in vaded them. He was a real old black letter chancellor, and, with more fire, manliness, and energy, might have been the first man in any country. But there was nothing about him to attach his fellow-man to him. His thoughts were THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 81 brilliant, but never burning; they were like the radiations of moonlight from an iceberg. As .an exemplification of the notion, that men of very contrary characters sometimes fancy each other, he imbibed quite an attachment for me, so far as his nature would allow. I was off-hand in the expression of my feelings and opinions — very mercurial in my nature; my admiration or indignation came forth with equal facility, and with equal energy ; but still my feelings were always within my control. I always knew what I said, and I generally in tended to say what I did say. Few men had better control of their feelings, and fewer still ever gave an imprudent ex pression to them. CHAPTER XIV. MY OPINION OF DUELS, AND THE MODE OF AVOIDING THEM — WITH VARIOUS OTHER MATTERS. Often on the point of difficulties, which might have led to duels, I have managed so far to maintain my self-posses sion as to avoid them, as in a case about six months after the time I am now writing of. A gentleman, feeling him self insulted by me, when I did not intend it, left me with the intention of challenging me, and so told his friend, who intimated it to»me. I replied, his friend had better consider what he was about; there was no real cause for any such step. At any rate, it was my request he should defer it until the next day. If, after sleeping a night upon it, he awoke' with the same feelings, I should be ready to hear from him, but would not consider any communication before. The effect was, by giving him time to cool, he changed his mind, and the matter there ended. I was never afraid, on 82 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. account of public opinion, to make reparation where I had offended a man's feelings unintentionally; I took a pride in doing it. Nor could any man so far throw me off my guard as to get me into a difficulty, and I in the wrong. If so at first, I would repair any injury I had done, and then tell him to bear witness that I had done my best to avoid the result. If that would not do, my conscience would be at rest, let what would happen, and these sentiments I very freely expressed. Your codes of honor and duelling punc tilios always appeared to me a pack of nonsense and bar barism. No man should submit his case to the manage ment of a friend, and the more especially if that friend is what they call " au fait" in such matters. Having a taste for them, instead of doing all he can to produce a recon ciliation, he throws barriers in the way. His friend's honor is too dear to him to make any advances, or open any door for an arrangement. Oh, no — oh, no — that will never do; honor requires a fight ! And often a fight takes place, when both parties are perfectly willing to be reconciled, and where very little common sense, mixed with ordinary good feeling, would bring it about. What is this honor, which shuts the door to negotiation and the obtainment of a fair understand ing of the parties? It is the fear that one party may con sider the other too anxious to avoid a fight, or that the pub- lie may so consider it. Now, if a man was perfectly fearless, would he have any such notions ? No ; he would then act just as good sense would direct, regardless of what others might think on the subject. And what wfiuld that be? A challenges B, setting forth his grievances. If B intended the injury, and will not repair it, of course he has to fight. But if B did not intend it, he should say to A, " Take back your challenge ; you are under a misapprehension ; before going to extremities, let us perfectly understand each other. I do not wish to fight you, while I believe there is no suffi cient cause; if you cannot be otherwise satisfied, however, THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 83' I will do it. But before I do, I must know what we are going to fight about, and that you are under no mistake." No man is so savage, so lost to all feeling, and all regard for public opinion, as to acknowledge that he wants to take a fellow-being's life without a cause ; and if not, then, after such a communication from his adversary, he would have no cause, and the thing would be ended. Again : Suppose it were established as a rule of duelling that, when on the field, before exchanging shots, a party should be chosen by the two seconds whose duty it should be to address them as fol lows : " Gentlemen, as your mutual friend, it becomes my duty, before you go to extremities, to understand the nature of the difficulty between you, and to see that you do not misunderstand each other ; and also to ascertain, if an insult has been given, whether it was intentional or not, and what impediment there is to a reconciliation. Neither of you, I presume, is seeking the other's life, for the mere love of blood; and if both be innocent of such a wish, a fight cannot take place unless one of you be willing to acknowledge his lack of justice. If such be the case with either, it is due to public opinion and to the innocent party that the fault should be fixed where it exists. Unless both be in the wrong, one party is fighting in self-defence only, and is not blamable if he kills his adversary. If killed by the other, the other is a murderer, and will be so esteemed by the public. I now proceed to propound my questions, in accordance with the established rule, beginning with the challenger ; and permit me to remark that, whatever feeling or indignation may have been excited by the offence originally, usage, propriety, and good taste require that all such should be suppressed here ; and that there may be no cause for contradiction, or any exciting matter between the parties, it is my province always to presume that there has been a misunderstanding between the parties. In asking my questions, therefore, I ask what is your understanding of your cause of offence? If you 84 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. name what you understand it to be, and your adversary, without the restraints which custom has allotted to this tribu nal, would contradict you and deny the fact, adding to the aggravation, he will consider that any such course will be looked upon as a wish on his part to escape investigation, and right will be presumed to lie on the other side. There must be no passion evinced here. Mr. A. will say, in as respectful and mild a manner as he can what he considers cause of challenge in this case. A. "In conversation with Mr. B., I justified nullification of the laws of the United States by the States, when they were considered tyrannical ; he replied — " Umpire. — " Or der! you understood him to reply." A. — "Very well; I understood him to reply that he considered the nullifiers a pack of traitors. I answered none were greater traitors than he was. To which I understood him to reply, ' You are a d dliar!'" Umpire (to B.). — " Did Mr. A. understand you correctly ?" B. — "He did." Umpire. — "Then you intended to insult him ?" B. — " No, sir ; I only expressed my opinion of nulli fication." Umpire. — " But you designated them traitors as a class, knowing he was one." B. — " Well, sir, I have nothing more to say." Umpire. — "Then you are content I should note you as the insulting party, refusing to make repara tion?" B. — "No, sir." Umpire. — " What other conclusion can be drawn ?" B. — " Why, sir, when I made my remark I was heated, and did not sufficiently reflect that my remark included Mr. A. until he rejoined, when my reply was the natural consequence, and his challenge placed things beyond remedy." Umpire. — " But A.'s challenge was made inevi table." B. — " Well, I admit it, and, so far as I can see, the fight is inevitable." A. — " Mr. Umpire, I think we are wast ing time to no purpose." Umpire. — "Perhaps, Mr. A., you would do well to observe the regulations, and not speak out of order." A. — " Very well, sir." Umpire. — "Mr. B., you THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 85 say the fight is inevitable ; I answer, it is not, unless you are determined to have it so. You admit that you desig nated nullifiers as traitors, without bearing in mind at the time that Mr. A. was one. As a gentleman, had you been aware of the offensiveness of the speech, your own good breeding would have prevented your using it." A. — "Most assuredly if I had reflected I would not." Umpire. — " Then you are willing to allow that the expression was used without intending to convey an insult ?" B. — " I allow I did not design the first speech to insult Mr. A." Umpire. — " And the second would not have been, but for Mr. A.'s reply ?" B. — " Of course not ; his reply drew it forth." Umpire. — " Very well. Now, Mr. A., I .presume it is hardly worth while to ask you if your remark would have been made but for what you supposed to be an intended insult ?" A. — " That hardly needs an answer ; it was, of course, the result of Mr. B.'s remark." Umpire. — " Mr. B., I am right, I presume, in saying the explanations here given prove beyond doubt that your remarks were inadvertent, and no insult was intended ?" B-. — "Yes, sir." Umpire. — "And Mr. A. has said his were caused by your remarks. It is evident, then, gentlemen, that there is no cause of fight. I ask of you, as your mutual friend, to spare your families and friends the pain which may result from this encounter, having no cause but a mis understanding, which has now been explained. Mr. A., will you, upon the explanation, withdraw your challenge ?" A. — " I will." Umpire. — " Then, gentlemen, the difficulty is over ; and we will return and drink to more caution here after." A. and B.—" Agreed." 86 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. CHAPTER XV. MY MODE OF GAINING THE INFORMATION I WANTED— A LITTLE DRY AT FIRST, BUT READ ON, AND THE OBJECT WILL BE DEVELOPED WITH MORE INTEREST. Having obtained a room in Frankfort for an office, I now set to work vigorously in the prosecution of my labors. I spent the day in examining the public offices for grants of land to D. R., and deeds from and to him ; having prepared a book, which I called my land-book, in which I digested all the information I obtained. I took care to make friends of the clerks in all the offices by giving them liberal fees to aid me in the prosecution of my labors, and, by so doing, I ob tained suggestions from them as to the best sources of in formation. This was not necessary in their regular business, but for extra services I deemed it advisable. The public officers in the register's and auditor's offices knew all the sheriffs in the State, and many surveyors, and a great many of the old land-locaters, land-agents, land-dealers, &c., to whom they referred me. I noted all their names. I was advised to spend my time at first in obtaining all the inform ation which the offices in Frankfort would afford ; get what I could from attendants on the Federal Court and Court of Appeals, and other visitors to Frankfort; and then attend upon the legislature, where I could see members from every county, who could either give me the information I wanted, as to any lands in their county, or show me where I could get it. There were several hundred tracts of land to be investigated, and a great amount of information to be sought in regard to the acts of former agents and the conditiou in which they TnE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 87 had left the business; lands sold, bonds taken, bonds col lected, uncollected, &c, and all kinds of contracts in regard to land. This was the most fruitful source of difficulty to me. But by dint of perseverance I progressed rapidly. As before said, I made an index to all the lands, referring to pages where the information was condensed as to each tract. My. note book was my journal, in which I put down everything I learnt, numbering every note, and at night, in the face of each note, 1 put in red ink the number of the tract to which it referred, and once a week I would post up all the information I obtained to the tracts to which they respectively belonged, and as posted I would cross the note to show that I need pay no more attention to it. I was astonished at the progress I made ; but, in Kentucky, such general information prevails in regard to land and land-titles that an industrious inquirer would, in a short time, possess himself of information to al most any extent. He could, probably, do more in Kentucky in a week than he would anywhere else in a month. The great difficulty in my business was avoiding confusion and bewilderment in the immense mass. I ascertained this to have been the stumbling-block with former agents. They could compass a certain amount, confined to a few counties ; that they would attend to, and leave the balance, with no methodical digest or intelligible record of what they had done. It was chiefly in their heads, or in bundles of papers, and most of the information obtained during their lifetime died with them. My plan did not confuse my mind, nor leave a weight of oppression on it to comprehend what I learnt. I had it so methodized that I could turn in a moment to all the information I had obtained in regard to any tract of land, the doings of any agent, or any transaction on any subject connected with my business. And this is the chief art in doing a large business of any kind, but more especially legal business": to hav& it so methodized as not to render it neces- 88 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. sary to keep it in the mind ; for, while that is attempted, after going to a certain extent, the mind has received its load, and will bear no more ; any further addition produces confusion and bewilderment, and the mind gives way under it, a strong illustration of which I found in the gentleman I have been describing, whose father's estate was connected with the one I was investigating. It was of great extent, and, had it been prosecuted with method and vigor, would have yielded him an immense fortune ; but he became bewildered in its mazes, overwhelmed with the weight, and discouraged in the hope of being able to compass the business to such an extent that he attempted nothing, but wasted away his time in Frankfort in reading and fishing. As my task was to com prehend all that he had to do, as my constituent's estate was one-third interested with his, and also interested in several other estates where a similar course was necessary, besides an independent estate of greater magnitude than his, he asked me if lever expected to be able to master the subject. I told him I did. r " Well," said he, " it will run you mad, and you will be in the lunatic asylum before you get through with it." " No," I replied; " there will be nothing to run me mad. Whatever I can do will be done without oppression to the mind. I can work hard all day, possess myself of a volume of information, embracing the most intricate questions, all of which I will solve, as far as may be within my capacity ; record those solutions and all this information ; then throw it off my mind, and sleep soundly at night." " But how," said he, " can you throw it off? Such matters pile upon and bewilder my mind so much that I have to quit them. I cannot help thinking of them ; the constructions of entries, and surveys, legal decisions on similar cases, &c, so run in my mind that I cannot sleep, and if I were to push the investigations continually as you do, I should go mad." " Not so with me. It is my daily avocation. I have cer- THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 89 tain information to obtain. When I have obtained all the information to be had, in regard to a tract of land, learn all the titles conflicting with it, compare dates, calls of entries, &c, and see how the surveys conflict, I see at once the points of law on which the strength of each hangs. (The land-law of Kentucky is comprehensible at once by a mathe matical mind. It is based on mathematical •principles. I felt at home in regard to .it immediately ; and would have wagered two to one, on first reading a land-entry, that I could tell whether or not the title would stand, provided it was surveyed according to entry.) I note all those facts, exam ine the reports of decisions by the courts, observing all that touch the case pro and cow, and then record my own opinion. This being done, I discharge the subject from my mind, be cause I have done all the thinking about it that I can, and have packed it, and all that it is based on, in its proper place, where I can, at any time, find it; and there is no need to trouble my mind further about it. I do it," said I, " on the principle of mercantile bookkeeping. A merchant has several thousand accounts. He does not attempt to keep one in his head, and only thinks of them when he has to collect or pay. As I have neither to do with mine, they give me no trouble." To give each subject in connection, I continue it, when be ginning it, often long beyond the period of which I am writ ing, as in this case. This conversation was, in part, proba bly twelve months after the time of which I write. 8* 90 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. CHAPTER XVI. MY FORLORN *FEELINGS UPON FIRST BEING DOMICILIATED AMONG STRANGERS. During the day, I found my time to go off well enough ; but my evenings hung most heavily. For the reasons before named, having only a letter to this hermit, and he having no intimates, I made no acquaintances. I had no associates. I had not thought of letters of introduction, and if I had, could not probably have found a man in Richmond who knew any one in Frankfort; for then there was very little com munication between these places. This hermit I only met with in daytime, and not often then. Naturally of a very sociable disposition, and having no one to interchange thoughts or feelings with, I became very unhappy ; and but for the pride I took in never looking back when I had engaged in any undenaking until I had accomplished it, I should have returned home, for never did a man feel so desolate and for lorn ; and this feeling began to show itself in my counte nance, which mortified me, because it seemed an acknowledg ment that I felt myself slighted and neglected, a thing which few young men are willing to admit, and none without morti fication ; and it was the more galling to me, because many young men from Virginia, coming out to hunt up their fa thers' lands, and of the best families, with letters to the first men in Kentucky, would, by the% imprudence, find them selves short of money, borrow and not return it, and thus throw a shade over the characters of the more worthy. — They were looked upon with distrust, unless well vouched for. I had no one to vouch for me, and was, in consequence, THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 91 isolated from society in its midst. About a fortnight after my arrival, there was a ball at Frankfort. I was always pas sionately fond of dancing, and went to the ball ; but I knew no one. Everybody seemed gay and happy, the girls seemed beautiful and interesting, and I would have given the world for some one to talk to; but, like the wandering Jew, I moved among the crowd unknowing and unknown, and was not at liberty to speak to anybody. The tavern-keeper of fered to introduce me, but this I thought would never do ; I politely declined. One of the managers offered to do the same ; but, as I did not know him, nor he me, and he could not vouch for me, and as, if I had known him, I might not have been willing to be introduced by him, I declined his offer also ; and the night passed off, and the ball broke up, without my dancing, or speaking to any one at it, except in the two cases stated. To those who have never been similarly circumstanced, it is not easy to conceive my unhappy condition, and I began to regret ever having undertaken the agency — was satisfied I could not bear my position — determined to fix on a period by which I could make a digest of the information necessary to know the condition of the estate, and then go back. My feelings were "becoming soured; my nature was changing; I felt it, and was uneasy at the effect ; for, young as I was, I was even then very sensible that a sense of injury towards our fellow-man would sully the fine, fresh feelings of youth, which give interest to character, which are the best evidences of uncontaminated virtue, and a high-toned feeling of honor. There is nothing which can compensate for the loss of such feelings, and it is a misfortune for any young man to be so circumstanced as to incur such an evil. The mortifications I experienced in the outset of life were of a different sort. My relatives were near. I could com mune with them. I foresaw the day of change. But here I had not one single human being to interchange feelings with. I became daily more and more gloomy and unhappy. 02 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. Finally, my hermit companion informed me that he had to go to the Yellow Banks, to have transfers made of town- lots in Owensboro', the grantors having given half the town to the county to fix the seat of justice there, his father own ing one-third, and my constituent two-thirds. I went with him, by way of Bardstown — a five days' journey. On arriving within twenty-five miles of the town, "Here," said my com panion, " begins the great survey of M. B. & Co., which ex tends six miles below Owensboro' ; thirty-one miles in length, and containing 160,000 acres; my father's estate owning one-fourth, and your constituent the chief of the balance; but interfered with by various other surveys, and occupied by hundreds of settlers." About three miles above the town, we came in sight of the Ohio River, which I now saw for the first time. It was very full, nearly up to its banks on the Indiana side ; and I thought it one of the most sublime wa ter-sheets I had ever seen. We entered the town — the court house had been built, and a number of cabins; but there were not more than two or three brick chimneys in the town. I thought it was the prettiest situation for a town that I had ever seen — level, and high banks, on a great bend of the river. Having accomplished our object, and having noted all the information I could obtain relative to the property here, we now returned to Frankfort. The Federal Court was now in session, and Judge Todd of the supreme bench was presiding. I attended the court regularly to meet with men who could give me the in formation I wanted. Seeing me a stranger, the judge was induced to inquire who I was. He was told I was a young Virginian from Richmond, by the name of . After the adjournment of court, he came to me, and said he was, informed my name was T , of Richmond. I told him it was. " A son of Daniel T ?" said he. " Yes, sir." " Why, sir," he rejoined, " your mother and myself are THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 93 cousins. How happens it you did not come to see me ?" I replied, "I did not know you lived here until I saw you on the bench, and inquired who you were. When I heard your name, I knew there was a relationship — what I did not know, however — between our families." " Well," said he, " you must come and dine with us to-morrow ;" which I told him I would do with pleasure. I went at two o'clock, an hour ear lier than the common dining-hour in Richmond, and two hours earlier than party dining-hours. On entering the pas sage, I perceived, in a hall in the rear of the house, the dishes which had been removed from the table. I had not rung, and supposed no one had seen me. The awkwardness of coming in after the dinner was removed, and having it set for me again, determined me to retreat and send an excuse. But the judge had seen me through the window, and came out to meet me. He rallied me on my fashionable hours; said the clerks and all the officers of the court dined early ; the court therefore had to adjourn at twelve, and, to get through business, had to meet again at half-past two, and he was compelled to make his hours conform to theirs; that he had neglected to inform me of his dining-hour, supposing I had been in Kentucky long enough to know that the fault was his, &c. He made me acquainted with several members of the bar and his family, and I made a short dinner, as you may imagine. After a short time, he remarked he would consign me over to his family, as he had to return to court, and that I must amuse myself in the best way I could. Mrs. Todd was a sister of Mrs. Madison, wife of the President, a very intelligent and agreeable lady, with whom I spent an hour or two very pleasantly. The judge had also two sons, both married; one afterward minister to Russia; but neither was then in Frankfort. The lawyers I was introduced to.were married men, much older than myself, and, at that time, no companions for me. Things were now a little changed, but not much. The judge was so absorbed by his judicial duties •94 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. that he had not much time to think of me, and I had not acquired that easy footing which authorized me to call when I pleased, and before I had time to do it he left to attend the Supreme Court, with his family, at Washington. CHAPTER XVII. THE SOCIETY OF FRANKFORT — THE LEGISLATURE — ASSO CIATION WITH THE MEMBERS. The gentlemen with whom I had dined made me ac quainted with some of the young lawyers and students, and occasionally a party to which I was invited brought me in acquaintance with the society of Frankfort ; my time passed off more pleasantly, but still not entirely to my satisfac tion. There was not, it appeared, the habit, prevalent in Virginia and the Eastern States, of making a visit of cere mony to you at your room, which then authorized you to return it, and feel upon an easy footing. But being intro duced to you in a court-room, you would be asked to call at their offices, told they would be happy to see you at any time, &c, and all in sincerity, but it was not deemed necessary first to call and see you. The consequence was, I went to none of their offices; always met the young men I was introduced to politely in the streets, and at the tavern, but never went to see them. When I would be in my room, a whim would take some of them to come and see me, not as a matter of polite duty, but merely because they wanted to be better acquainted. Then I would get on an easy footing with such, and gradually learnt that I was " standing on a punctilio not usual in the place." Had my room been more convenient than their offices, they would have been to see me ; THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 95 but as I would never call at their offices, they thought I was unsociable, and did not care about their acquaintance. I en deavored to conform to their habits, but was never satisfied with them. The fact is, no man is ever satisfied with him self, nor with those whose manners and customs induce him to forfeit, in any degree, his own self-respect, as I always thought I did by visiting a man, in a strange land, who had not first visited me. And yet some deemed it a nonsensical formality, as all ceremonies are deemed in the primitive con dition of any society. They did not seem to consider that it was necessary to have some means of knowing whether our acquaintance was desirable or not, and that there was any bet ter mode* than the one which society had adopted — of first visiting strangers whose acquaintance they desired. If he reciprocated the desire, he returned the visit, otherwise he did not. But, strange as it may seem, it was only in the capital where such notions prevailed. Soon afterwards, on visiting Lexington and Louisville, the latter then a small town, our Eastern customs prevailed. There was then no fashion, or attempt at it, in Frankfort, but more substantial intellect than anywhere else in the St;ate, among young and old. Indeed, I thought I had never seen so many law students, all of a high order of talents, anywhere ; and I had never seen a more intelligent or agreeable female society, without pomp or pretension. My footing with it was soon as easy and agreeable as at ffrst it had been otherwise. I took a turn or two to some adjacent counties, Owen, Gallatin, and Grant, to examine into the title and value of some lands there — some fifty or eighty tracts ; and ob tained connected surveys, showing all the interfering titles; and by means of my examinations at Frankfort, I was soon able to fix, in my own mind, upon that portion which would be saved, and that which would be lost. These upon the maps I painted of different colors, so that the eye took it in 96 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. at a glance. In my land-book, I gave my reasons for the conclusions I had come to. Soon the session of the legislature commenced, and I pro ceeded to become acquainted with the members, to learn from each such information as he could give in regard to my busi ness, which lay in almost every county in the State. This was a fine school for me, because the extent to which I could trespass on any member's patience would depend on the extent to which I could conciliate his good-will. If I could win his friendship and good feelings, there was no extent to which he would not go. So I seldom broached my business on my first visit, unless a very apt opening occurred ; but gave parties at my room, to which I would invite twenty or thirty at a time, as I became acquainted with them, making myself as agreeable as I could until I got through with the whole body. As it is very usual for such a course to be adopted by those who are seeking office, the members would in joke say, "Well, T, what office now can we give you? I don'tthink you can be making yourself such a clever fellow for nothing." " Oh !" I would reply, " it would be rather hasty to seek office in the first three or four months after my arrival. I think I must stand acquitted of that charge. But if you will put it on the footing of electioneering for your good will as citizens of Kentucky — not as members of the legisla ture — as I expect to travel much over the State, and give me some little credit, too, #br being sociable in my charac ter, fond of company, and not unwilling to lay an anchor ahead in case I should visit the regions in which any of you live where I might need friends, then I plead guilty." "Oh, ah — that's it, ay! Well, by hokey, if you will come to my county, I will show you every pretty girl in it; and I tell you there are some not to be sneezed at. Or if you are fond of hunting, or anything of that sort, just come mj way." And one and all would set forth the in ducements to visit each of their counties, all declaring they THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 97 would do anything for me, or go with me anywhere. I was soon on such a footing with them that I obtained all the information they had, and references to those who could give me more, all which I regularly noted, and when the legis lature rose commenced a tour over the State. From time to time I transmitted such information as I obtained to Judge B. in a condensed form; giving him an account of my mode of obtaining it. My father wrote me that Judge B. informed him I had an extraordinary talent for the business I was in ; that he could not have conceived it possible for any man to accomplish so much in so short a time. Of course this was very gratifying to me, and the more especially as it was so much so to my father, whose comfort and happiness I regarded much more than my own. CHAPTER XVIII. DEATH OF MY SISTER ANN AND OF MY FATHER — MY RETURN TO VIRGINIA — SETTLEMENT WITH JUDGE B. AND AGREE MENT TO RETURN TO KENTUCKY. But, during the spring, an event occurred which dashed half of my happiness on this earth. My sister Ann, in the bloom of all her loveliness, died in New York on a .visit to her elder brother. I loved her as seldom brother ever loved a sister. It was a cruel stroke. I had planned much for her enjoyment and happiness, but alitor naught. It was a heavy blow to my father and mother. This event paralyzed my efforts for some time. My father had been appointed master commissioner in chancery to the Richmond Chancery Court, which yielded a comfortable support for his family, but not enough to enable y 98 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. my younger brother to prosecute his studies. I agreed to furnish him with one-third of my salary. I could still live on half the balance by close economy, and, having now discharged the one hundred dollars borrowed of my elder brother, and one hundred and twenty dollars from a friend in Richmond, I informed my father that he might draw on Judge B. for another third of my wages as they then became due. But he wrote me he did not need it, as his business gave him a sufficient support. But, he said, he felt a glow of pride in having a son so willing to spare his little means to aid him. This feeling almost mortified me. To feel a pride in a son who would spare what he had no use for, to aid a father, to whom he owed his existence, and all that he was — I felt as if he had not before known my feelings, and had considered me lacking in proper affection. I could not imagine that any son could be so unfeeling as not to part with his last cent to aid his father. But my cup of sorrow was to be filled yet more by the death of this excellent father, who died during the succeeding summer — a man of the most un conquerable fortitude and perseverance that I ever knew — respected and beloved by all who knew him. My brother, who resided in New York, was now doing a large business, and thought he could branch out to advantage, either to New Orleans or Petersburg, and wrote proposing to connect himself with me. I concluded to accept his offer, and go in, after I had made a pretty complete digest of.my Kentucky business; and having mentioned my intention, a gentleman of Frankfort, anxious to obtain my place, pro posed to me to allow him to apply for it, to which I agreed, giving him a letter to Judge B., informing him of my inten tion, and that he was at liberty to employ him or any other substitute. When ready, I started, the aforesaid gentle man having gone ahead of me. On arriving at Lynchburg, I heard of the failure of Brown & Finney, of Richmond, for nine hundred thousand dollars. I knew my brother was THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 99 their chief correspondent in New York, and feared for the effect on him ; and, on arriving at Richmond, found he was under acceptances for them to the amount of sixty thousand dollars. This he could not stand, and he fell with them. Now I was again on the wide world, with not one hundred dollars to go upon, and not knowing what I would do next. I proceeded to see Judge B., to settle up accounts with him, very much regretting that I had resigned my agency, and now wishing I had it back again. On entering his door, after welcoming me and receiving me with great kindness, he observed: "Well, sir, you must go back to Kentucky." " Have you employed no one else ?" said I. "No, sir; I was satisfied I could find no one else who could do the business. You take hold of things by the right handle; and, believing I could satisfy you that you were in the track which suited your genius, and which would finally lead you to prosperity, I determined to employ no one else until I saw you, and had a conversation with you. Rely on it," said he, " there is a great field open before you. Your industry, energy, and method will finally procure for you as much business as you can do if you find it to your advan tage to leave my employment. I am not only satisfied with what you have done, but doubt whether I could have found any one else who could have done it, and have so expressed myself freely to your friends." Believing the judge was not aware of the facilities I found in Kentucky to prosecute my investigations, I felt as if he was giving me credit which I was not entitled to, and so remarked to him, explaining how I had accomplished what I had. He looked me steadily in the face for a minute. "I act, perhaps, imprudently," said he, " in talking to you as I shall, but I do not think I am mistaken in believing that you are not to be spoiled by re ceiving your due commendation; and it sometimes, if it does not spoil, is of service as an incentive. I understand, sir, perfectly, by your letters, what you have done, and how you 100 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. have done it. The facilities, you say, are great, and so yon have made them, by the simplicity of the system you have adopted. But you have made your own road smooth by your own plan. It is very simple, to be sure, and in that consists its beauty. Go on, sir, as you have commenced, and there is no telling what you may accomplish." This was a course so different from that which merchants usually adopt towards those in their employment, fearing that any admission of the value of their services might raise their demand for wages, that it filled me with admiration for the man, and I would have toiled night and day to fulfil his expectations. I now, in turn, felt inclined to reply with the feelings of which my heart was full, but, not being able to command words to express them, I did not attempt it. But I saw at once the difference between a great man and a little one. This man was just, he was reasonable, and a judge of human nature. He knew that his remarks would have a good effect — they had a powerful one. But, when we came to settle accounts, he seemed inclined to draw back some of his lavish praise. He said my expenses were too great — almost unreasonable. I heard him calmly, gave him full time to deliver himself of all his economical lessons, and asked him in what they were unreasonable. " Oh," he said, " the sum total, the aggre gate of expenditure was too great — too great — too great;" and I thought he would have recalled all the encomiums he had bestowed on me. "Judge B.," said I, "there is no one more open to reproof, when deserved, than I am — no one more willing to be advised; but, at the same time, no one whose feelings revolt so decidedly against anything bearing the impress of injustice. If I have been unjustifiably ex travagant, convince me of it, and I will stand reproved; but do not attempt to sustain your charge by saying the aggre gate has been too great — too great; that will not do. If the aggregate has been great, but the aggregate good still greater, there is no cause of complaint. Take the items, sir, and THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 101 point out which of them has been needless. Now, sir, here is the account; name tho objectionable items." In looking over — "Well, sir, here are charges that I do not see belong to the account; these were expenses of entertaining legis lators, &c." "Very well, sir, if my explanation is not satisfactory, then expunge them. I found, by making friends of those men, I could obtain a vast amount of information from them, and make correspondents all over the State, by which I would be saved a great deal of riding, time, and expense. And that is not all. I conciliated their good feel ings, obtained their friendship, and, by means thereof, a zeal and anxiety to serve me, which secured me information, and put me on the track to get more — which in fact have, in a great degree, enabled me to do what I have done, and for which you seem willing to give me so much credit." "Well," said he, softening down, "but could you not have done this at less expense?" "Why," I replied, "I might have saved your money, and been without the information I have obtained. The expenditure equals about two weeks of my wages and expenses, and, I venture to say, saved six months of the same." He took hold of other items, all resulting in the same way. Driven from his ground, he did not still like to yield, but preached me a long lesson about economy — said I lacked only that one quality to be the most efficient man of business he ever saw. But, shaking his head, he said : " You must try and correct that — economy is at the bottom of success in everything. I care not what a man's genius or talents may\*be — lacking economy, he will never succeed." "In all which I agree with you, sir, most decidedly. We only differ as to what economy is. I con sider it is the use of a given sum of money to accomplish the greatest amount of work. You would, perhaps, have been better satisfied if I had presented you a very lean bill of expenses, and half the information I have obtained. But I would do myself injustice by such a course. No, sir, I 102 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. understand the drift of your remarks. The precedent is a dangerous one, and you are unwilling to give in to it. I ad mit it, and that wine, &c, in an agent's accounts, has a bad look ; but I do not drink a pint of wine, or anything else, myself, in a year; neither do I smoke cigars, nor chew tobacco, nor take snuff. But it is sometimes necessary to use such means to accomplish an object." He shook his head. He could not be convinced, and, on the whole, perhaps he was right; for if he had sanctioned it in my accounts, having con fidence in my prudence, it would have been a plea for other agents, and therefore he could not accept, as a justification, the great amount of good coming out of an evil precedent. He, however, sanctioned the account, but with a lecture on the subject, which I had to put up with, because I saw he was inclined to award me full as much credit as he thought I deserved, and more than I thought I was entitled to in other matters, and I was willing to submit to this drawback. CHAPTER XIX. RETURN TO KENTUCKY PLEASANT ADVENTURE. Having purchased a sulky to aid me in carrying out papers, a great many of which I took this time, I now de parted a second time for Kentucky ; my horse, which was a very fine one, working finely, and I made good speed. At Liberty, I overtook a gentleman with a young lady in a gig, travelling to Tennessee, and felt quite gratified, though I outtravelled them so much that it was rather a severe tax on my time to wait for company. I concluded at least to travel with them one day. The gentleman had been to take his niece home from school, a Miss C , of Nash- J.I1J1 J.-JL1AM.- Ui! 11U;V1AJ\ JUIJS'JS. H)3 ville, a beautiful girl, full of romance and enthusiasm. As my horse was much the larger and the more spirited, I pro posed the next morning that he should put my horse to his gig, and his to my sulky — the weight being better propor tioned to their strength — to which he agreed, and seemed very thankful for the favor. But I purposely reined up my horse very tight, having seen that he was restless under a tight rein, until driven off and held tight. The servant held the horse until the young lady got in, and then handed the reins to her uncle. As he mounted, the horse backed and reared up, and the servant ran and took hold of the bridle. He bounced out, and said he must have in his own horse. " Oh no," said I, " let me try him." The young lady was frightened, but I assured her I could ma nage him, and asked just to let me try; she sat quivering. I ordered the servant to let him go, and gave him the whip heavily. He bounded off in a gallop ; but as soon as he be gan to bear on the reins, and not on the bridle, he became manageable, and went on very handsomely. We, of course, as we were going to travel together, had introduced ourselves to each other. I found Miss C very intelligent and agreeable, and very fond of a laugh. I remarked I had the most intelligent horse in the State. He knew exactly when I wanted him to cut a caper, and when to let it alone ; that I had whispered in his ear not to let her uncle drive him, and so he began to give himself airs to get her uncle out, but as soon as he saw I was in he knew how to behave himself. She laughed heartily, and asked why I had pretended to offer him to her uncle if I did not wish him to drive him. Because I wanted his seat. But, she said, he would claim it when .1 got him tamed. "Well," said I, "let us try if he will." So I reined him up, for the uncle to come on, keeping the reins, however, fretfully tight, and sawing his mouth imperceptibly to her or him. As he came up, "Well, Mr. ," said I, " you see there is no danger ; will you take 104 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. charge of him now ?" The horse was then moving on by jumps, and almost sitting down on his hind legs as he sprang forward. " No, indeed," said he; " if I did not see that you can manage him so easily, I should insist on taking my niece out and putting my horse in ; but he seems safe in your hands." " Oh, perfectly; no danger in the world." I then held him steady, and gave him a crack of the whip, and away he went as steadily as I could desire. "Do you not see," I remarked, " that he understands me ?" " Upon my word," she replied, " I believe he does !" " Yes ; and your uncle will not get this seat again." " I am agreed," said she ; and we had a merry and pleasant tour on to Bean Station. They had an old family servant along on horseback, who was very amusing, and who recounted to us one evening a courtship he had heard the night before, while he was lying unseen among the baggage, in the room where the lovers were. We travelled four or five days together before we reached Bean Station, and here we were equally loath to part. I felt tho change the more, as I had now to encounter the lonely wilder ness alone. Nothing of consequence occurred on my jour ney to Frankfort. CHAPTER XX. SECOND RETURN TO FRANKFORT — APPROACH OF A MONEYED CRISIS IN KENTUCKY — CHARACTER OF THE KENTUCKIANS — HISTORY OF THE INDEPENDENT BANKS — RELIEF SYS TEM AND NEW COURT. I took up my former quarters, and proceeded to business as usual ; visited the acquaintances I had made, who seemed pleased to meet me again; became better acquainted with the young ladies, and was soon domiciliated as one of their THJB PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. I(JO fraternity. Things were now upon a much more agreeable footing than formerly. When the legislature sat again, which was in a few months after my return, I found myself greeted as an old acquaintance by most of those whom 1 had seen the year before, and I pursued my old course towards them, but now at my own expense, as I had had fair warn ing that those expenses must not come into my account. I found great benefit from it, however — great facilities in my business. About this time, there was a moneyed crisis in Kentucky, and the " Independent Bank System" was intro duced. This was giving a bank to almost every county in the State. I foresaw, as all reasonable men must have done, a general bankruptcy of those institutions, and wrote several essays, under fictitious signatures, in the papers, to endeavor to stay the ruin. But the people of Kentucky are as deter mined as they are impulsive. , When their minds are made up to any measure, you might as well whistle against the wind as to try to move them. Every man in the State thinks he is capable of judging and comprehending any subject ; and being a little touched with the " horse, the alligator, and the snap- ping-turtle," when he takes his course ybu must get out of the road, or be run over. What he wants he will have, and " all creation" can't stop him, unless he is brought up by the constitution ! This is his Bible; and he who will move like an infuriated horse over everything in his path, trampling down great and small before him, and even, in his mad career, trampling down the constitution itself, will afterwards, when cool, and satisfied that he is wrong, come back and rectify all his errors, and submit his neck to the yoke of constitu tional law. This was magnificently evinced in the case of the " stay" laws of Kentucky, which succeeded the bank ruptcy of the independent banks, and which produced the bankruptcy of nearly the whole community. Never, perhaps, was any country before in such a condition. The creation of those independent banks had flooded the country with 106 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. money — begotten a wild taste for speculation; immense stocks of goods from the East were brought in ; everybody purchased liberally of the merchants, as did the home merchants of the Eastern. As the day of reckoning came, the independent bank notes would not suit the Eastern merchant. He must have funds which he could use at home ; this brought in the notes of the banks, which one after another failed. Then the Eastern merchants sued the Kentucky merchants, and they sued the citizens. A general tumult was caused throughout the country. The property which would, a few years before, have brought five dollars would not now bring one. All the property of the country seemed doomed to be sold, and yet not pay half the debts. The first plantations were going for a mere song ; securities who, from a feeling of friendship, had lent their names to neighbors, who seemed to have five times as much property as would pay their debts, found that their friends could not pay, and even their own handsome estate would have to go too, and yet all would not suffice. To avert this wide-spread ruin, there was a universal cry for legislative relief, and everywhere members were elected under a pledge to enact laws to stay the storm. Accordingly, a bank was created called the " Commonwealth Bank," based on the reve nues of the country, with a capital of three millions of dol lars, with branches located in different parts of the State. This bank was to loan to borrowers, upon a certain propor tion of the appraised value of real estate, pledged as security clear in title ; and, I believe, also requiring good indorse ments. The money, so borrowed, was redeemable ten per cent, every four months until paid. This gave time to con vert property into money. It was also enacted that the usual replevin of three months should be extended to two years on all judgments, unless creditors would take the paper of the "Commonwealth Bank" in payfnent of such judg ments, in which case it was only to be three months. Credit ors now became furious. The " Commonwealth's" paper sunk THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 107 twenty per cent, quickly ; creditors would not take it, and it kept gradually sinking until it got down to fifty cents in the dollar.' To a great extent, finally, it was received in prefer ence to submitting to the delay ; and, so far as it went merely to settle balances among citizens, it was no great hardship where credits and indebtedness were nearly equal. But if a man owed a debt to one who owed nobody, then this creditor, not sharing in this " sliding scale," lost half his debt. Credit ors out of the State lost half their debts, and without any cor responding benefit. But the man in the State who wanted to lay out his money for property within it could get more for his " Commonwealth Bank" dollar than he could have obtained for his silver dollar when the debt was contracted. Still, however, he wanted all which he thought himself entitled to. Money hscs been fixed upon as the universal measure of value. It is only conventionally so, however. Labor is the true value. And if there could be any mode of knowing, at all times, what is the value of a day's labor in every coun try, and anything could be found exactly to represent it (the labor being a given amount of work), that would be the best mode of evidencing debts by so many days' labor, in lieu of so many dollars ; but as this would vary in all the countries of the world, and in every ten miles square in every country, universal confusion would result from attempting to fix on any such basis. The value of gold and silver is fixed by the amount of labor required to obtain them. They, therefore, represent labor at its value where obtained (a certain toll or rent being charged for the use of the mines), and they are consequently the best universal representative of value. To return to the operation of the Relief system. The effect was to array the community into two parties most violently opposed to each other. One representing the debtors, and those whose milk of human kindness and general benevolence of heart would make the laws and the constitution swerve from their sphere to avoid a universal crush and ruin; the 108 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. other, the creditors, and those who believed the integrity of the laws and constitution should be preserved at every hazard, and, under them, that "justice should be done, though Hea ven should totter." None of the first class, to be sure, did argue that the laws and constitution should actually swerve from their sphere. But they contended for principles amount ing to the same thing. The " Anti-reliefs" contended that the laws existing when the contract was made governed the contract; and any laws afterwards made in violation of it did violate the constitution. As, when a man agreed to give his debtor one year's credit, the law, by extending that credit to three, interfered between debtor and creditor, and changed the contract ; that it had no more right to extend one year to three than to reduce three years to one. The constitution said " no law should be passed impairing the obligation of contracts." The " Reliefs" contended that they did not interfere with the obligation, but only with the re medy. That, in the face of the said clause of the constitu tion, the laws had enacted that, after judgment, the debtor should have the right of three months' replevin, which was as much an interference in principle as two years, as was the delay of execution sixty days, for the constitution said, jus tice should be administered without sale, denial, or delay ; all delay, then, for delay's sake, was unconstitutional. The extension of the replevin three months was matter of discre tion, so was that of two years; and, in principle, one was as constitutional as the other. And, though in ordinary times, it was a harsh remedy to extend the replevin ; yet, in a great emergency, it was justifiable when required to save a country from ruin. The "Anti-reliefs" replied : That the three months' replevin was at first submitted to, because it was not such a violation of the rights of the creditor as to induce him to test its constitutionality; and, when it became the standing law of the land, it then formed part of every contract, because THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 109 every man entering into a contract knew that his remedy at law was burthened with this delay. There was at least plausible ground for each party to oc cupy honestly, and doubtless, in most cases, the differences of opinion were sincerely entertained. But when men's passions are excited, on the one side, by a belief that they are robbed of half their debts, they have no discretion, no sympathy, and no respect for those who would rob them. While those, on the other, who see an inexorable creditor determined to ruin them, rather than wait two years, or take property at three-fourths of its valuation or "Commonwealth Bank" notes, think such creditors deserved no consideration, but are tyrants and oppressors at heart, as are all their aiders and abettors. With the malignity of feeling growing out of this state of things, the most vindictive political war raged in Kentucky that was ever known in any country; and it is truly wonderful that civil commotions did not arise under it. They were often expected. At one time I witnessed an election in Frankfort, when it was thought to be unavoidable. Both parties were roused to a perfect pitch of frenzy ; both believed a collision absolutely certain; both prepared for it, and both desperately determined to go all lengths. Never did I have more awful feelings than on the day the polls opened. Every man was armed to the teeth ; every man determined, if his way to the polls was obstructed, to cut it out with his arms; and now the struggle commenced. In an ordinary election, the shouts, huzzas, and fights would sometimes create a tumult to be heard a great way off. But now there was no shouting, no noise, no tumult of any kind. Every man voted, not without a general rush to the polls, however, and much crowding. But no man's toes were even trodden on, and it was the most quiet election I ever saw. The " Reliefs" carried the day by a small majority. But there was a general congratulation on all sides at the peaceful 10 110 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. result, only to be accounted for by the fixed and desperate resolution, evident in every face, and the conviction of every one, that the 'first blood shed would be a signal for a general mtlie. Take the whole history of Kentucky during the pendency of the "Relief" contest, and the Old and New Court question, which followed, and which was equally as exciting, the two continuing many years, and to learn that no civil commotion was ever known to arise out of the whole, is a sublime picture of man nowhere else to be seen on the face of this earth, and evidences a fitness for the enjoyment of rational liberty to be seen nowhere out of the United States. I never saw a mob in Kentucky in my life, and do not recollect that I ever heard of but that one which rose and peaceably destroyed an abolition press, or, rather, sent it off to Cincinnati from Lexington. There was no blood shed or other violence. It was a stern conviction by the "Anties" that if this Relief system was not driven from the land, it would leave a moral stain on the character of Kentucky, as well as inflict a vital wound upon the integrity of her constitution, and the prin ciples of our government, which caused tremendous efforts to overthrow it, and finally the Court of Appeals determined the law to be unconstitutional. This produced a great ex plosion of public feeling. The indignation of the "Reliefs" against the Court of Appeals reached a fearful height, and having the majority in the legislature, they abolished the Court of Appeals to get rid of the judges who had pro nounced the decision, and then created a new court, and appointed new judges, clerks, etc. The Old Court, however, disregarded the act of the legislature, and proceeded in its business, as if nothing had been done. The New Court sat at the same period : and here were both courts trying cases at the same time. If an appellant wanted the doctrines of the " Reliefs" to prevail, he took his record to the New Court. THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. Ill Otherwise to the Old ; and here were conflicting decisions all over the country. The prudence and discretion of the Old Court, however, caused it to abstain from action as much as possible to avoid difficulties, until a change of public opinion should take place. But here was as effectual a revolution in the government as could have occurred. A forcible annihilation of one of its departments by another; the judiciary by the legislative and executive, and the substitution of a pliant judiciary, willing to conform to the legislative will, or the will of the people, if it be more proper so to speak. But the people did not so speak. They became alarmed at this stretch of power, and soon overthrew the new system. While the contest was for a policy, they most decidedly leaned to the side of cha rity and mercy. But when it came to a contest of the con stitutional question, all the arguments of the New Court now failed. They insisted that they had not violated the constitution ; that the constitution said there should be a Court of Appeals, and there was one. They had only newly modified the court. But the "Anties" said they had turned out the old judges, and put in new ones. The "Beliefs" re joined, so they from time to time had newly modelled the Circuit Courts ; discontinuing some, and creating others, etc. The "Anties" said they could not displace the judges ofthe Court of Appeals except by impeachment, or an address of three-fourths of the legislature. They were entitled to their seats during good behavior, by virtue of the constitution. This question was canvassed upon the stump, at cross roads, court-houses, and everywhere in Kentucky, until almost every barefooted boy of fifteen was master of the subject. But the "Anties" had moral right with them. All was special pleading, and indirection on the other side, to sustain their cause; it fell; the Old Court was re instated, and the integrity of the constitution preserved; and it may be universally remarked that, whenever the 112 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. mass of the people see right clearly on one side,, they embrace it. There is a power in moral right which will in time prevail. It may be for a long time obscured, and the people may be bewildered, as they very often are; for when an honest man, without information and strength of mind sufficient to clear away the fog for him self, happens, by the force of circumstances, to be thrown with any political party, and reads all that is written in sup port of it, and nothing against it, but all against the other party, which he is induced to believe is not only in error, but dishonest, his prejudices become so fixed that he is immovable, and, though honest in everything else, is, in time, trained to believe that it is necessary to adopt all means, fair or foul, to overcome a party which is waging war against the best in terests of the country. It is deemed a matter of self-preser vation, and a party drill is submitted to on one side, which seems to require it on the other. The members of the par ties become mere sheep in a flock, to be driven by the leaders as they think proper. This is very much the result of the temper of the newspapers. They act not as expounders of wisdom and advocates of justice, but as counsel for clients opposed to each other, whose cause they respectively sustain before a jury, deeming all advantages of law justifiable. There are few papers so just that they will not throw any weight they can upon an adversary, by permitting inferences from facts partially given, or by concealing something to pal liate the facts which are given, so that the whole truth does not appear. Now, a partisan approaches one of his clan with this paper in his hand. "Neighbor," says he, "you know such and such facts, do you not? That is, matter of history which no one can deny ?" " Yes, certainly I do." " Well, you have seen great outcries in this paper, the , about the injustice of our party, its oppressions, corruptions, &c. ?" "Yes." " Now, then, I desire to satisfy you that these papers are all alike ; that not one is THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 113 to be relied on. Not a word they say to be believed." He then points out a paragraph, of little moment in the great mass, but calculated to produce an impression that the party assailed is what this old man knows it is not. This at once discredits this paper, and has done it more injury than all the assaults of its opponents for months. "Where one lie springs up, another will grow." An editor, therefore, who is, at any time, guilty of the slightest misrepresentation, in tentionally, forfeits the moral force which ought to belong to his paper, and without which it amounts to almost nothing. He is a discredited witness on the stand. His only power is with his partisans, where it is of no value, for he can gain no converts from their ranks. And, as this fact must be evi dent to all editors, as well as to all speakers, I have often wondered at the want of tact in both in adopting a kind of merciless warfare on their opponents, calculated to drive them more firmly back into the ranks, instead of addressing their good sense in a respectful manner, showing feelingly the evil which the speaker deprecates, and imploring a correction of it. If the leaders of the other party have acted corruptly and dishonestly, and it is necessary to expose it, great care should be taken to draw a distinction between the party and its leaders ; for you want the party to leave their leaders. While you castigate the one, therefore, you should soothe the other. And to be effective, never make a charge which can not be sustained by facts, and not then, if the charge is one of little moment when proved. He who makes small charges, in effect, admits that there are no great ones. I think, my self, it is no difficult matter for any well-balanced mind to take up a newspaper on each side of any question, and, after reading both, to determine which side is in the right ; if the editors are intelligent, and one is candid, he will be in search of truth. The very spirit of his writings shows it. The other pretends, also, to sustain it; but his writings are full of special pleadings ; he does not meet the question fairly ; there 10* 114 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. is a lack of plain, palpable candor about him. One shows the arrogance of power; the other, the convictions of justice. The partisans of the first may hold the reins for a series of years, by force of party discipline, patronage, and alluring hopes. But time will inevitably correct it, in a reading com munity like ours. The moral sense of no intelligent people can be so permanently corrupted that they will be willing to sustain corruption. No; there is an innate power in the virtuous heart which will ultimately disenthrall itself, and the sooner, if the opponents of corruption were to despair and abandon the struggle; for then, having no outward enemy, the members of the party would begin to look at home, quarrel with each other, and, finally, right themselves. I am not one of those who believe that our government will easily fall from its corruption. Like a cask of beer, it will go through its fermentations, and every now and then throw off its filth. But we have a corroding poison within us which, of late years, has shown dangerous symptoms, and may, in time, upset all our political philosophy on this sub ject ; to wit, presidential patronage. I am satisfied that the assumed basis of a permanent republic, "the virtue and intelligence of the people," is erroneous. The true basis is a constitution so framed as to offer no temptation to corrup tion. If the frame of government invites corruption, then corruption will come, and the government fall. But I do not consider it impracticable to so frame a government as to exclude this temptation. But our great safety is in educating the young mind. Give us Normal schools all over our country, to produce teachers for us. Every State in the Union should have one at public expense. At another time, I will dwell more on this subject. I have indulged in these reflections so far to impress on you the history of this noted epoch in Kentucky, and the moral appertaining to it. When I reach an event like this, in my own history, it would lose its interest to be kept back, and only give its progress THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 110 with my own. To impress it on your mind, I prefer giving it all in connection ; and for the further reason, that then such subjects can be read detached by those who might feel no interest in the balance of the narrative. It will be instructive to the future politician to have a history of the downfall of the New Court. The condition of things now existing it was evident could not last — two ap pellate courts giving conflicting decisions, and with a double set of officers. As before said, a stronger evidence could not be given, of the love of the people of Kentucky for order, than the history of this period. When the New Court was constituted, the Old was in possession of all the records, and the New could not proceed without them. Hence, it was thought there was ground for violence which could not well be avoided. One court, it was supposed, would order a* posse to take the records, and the other to prevent it, when, of course, a conflict must ensue. But the Old Court, now ap parently under the ban of the State, and feeling that the cur rent of public opinion was against them, acted with great wisdom and prudence, and were content to let the records go, and also, although they regularly met, as required by law, yet they gave no decision which could create a tumult. The coming elections must finally decide the question whether the constitution was capable of being sustained or not, and if not, into what kind of an abyss we must fall. Writers in the newspapers, from every quarter, called upon them to maintain their posts, and to stand manfully by their cguntry. I wrote a piece in which this sentence occurred : " Stand by your post, maintain it at every hazard ; a react ing and redeeming spirit exists among the people, which, at no distant day, will show itself; and then enviable indeed will be the reward of persecuted patriotism ; the highest offices in the gift of the people will be deemed a poor reward for such inflexible integrity." I cannot give a better idea of the feelings and views of 116 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. parties then prevailing than by the relation of an event which occurred on board of a boat on the New York Canal about, I think, 1827. I will premise that great toleration prevails in Kentucky on the subject of politics. Two of the most intimate friends will sometimes differ in politics. They will bitterly oppose each other at the forum, and then retire and spend the evening together. The contest, how ever, at this time, had gone near interrupting private friend ships ; yet there were many cases where it did not, and the case I am going to relate is one of those. Walking backwards and forwards on the canal-boat, I ob served a foreigner, a young man who seemed to evince a wish to speak to me, and to make an opening for it; I made some commonplace remark about the weather. I found that he was just from college in France, though apparently older and more mature than fresh graduates in our own country. He said he came to our country to study our institutions, that he was a dear lover of liberty, and wished to be where it existed. He wished to see its practical workings. Now, said he : " Your constitution. I do not exactly comprehend it. The people made it. And the people also make the laws. Now I understand the laws, which are against this constitu tion, are void. But if the people make both, how are you to determine when one of your laws is in violation of your constitution? Suppose your judges so decide, your constitu tion is but parchment, and your people are the head of all authority. This, in the law, is as omnipotent as in the con stitution, and your judges will not dare to oppose the ex pressed will of the people." I had noted two young men on board from Kentucky, who were in conversation on this subject — one Old Court, the other New; though dressed in jeans, they were evidently very intelligent. But, as I have before observed, this ques tion had so long occupied the public mind in Kentucky, that every man, of every grade, could discuss it with the apparent iiii^ riuui uj: xiuiu^lls juajm^. ability of the ablest politician. I observed to the French man that I could give him an illustration on this head by a discussion now going forward yonder — pointing to those young men. "Let us go near and hear what they say." He looked surprised at me, and said, "Why they seem to be of the canaille.'' "Yes," I remarked, "in France they would probably be so considered; but not here." They were probably farmers. (I learnt afterwards that they were drovers, who had been in with beeves.) " Come up." He came on sluggishly and reluctantly, as if he had nothing to learn from such men. As he neared, one of these young men observed to the other, "What do you call a constitu tion?" and was answered, "A rule of government laid down by the people in convention for the government of their legislatures." ("Good," said the Frenchman, "very good.") "And what is the use of that rule unless it is observed?" " It has been," replied the New Court man. " Does not that rule say that justice shall be administered without sale, de nial, or delay ? and is not a two years' replevin delay ?" New Court. — "Yes, rather more than three months. YourOld Court admit that the three months' replevin law is constitu tional; and if it is, then it is preposterous to deny the con stitutionality of the other." Old Court. — "The three months' replevin law was not at first tested. The time was so short that it was submitted to; and being for a long time submitted to, the acquiescence in it caused every man to have it in view when he made his contract, and it became a part of his contract. It was not enacted to obstruct justice, but to give a reasonable time to the defeated party to provide the means of paying his debt — not to be surprised. Yet had this been at first contested, it must have been decided unconstitutional. But your law, made expressly to delay justice, there can be no question about. It violates the ob ligation of contracts." New Court. — " The people say other wise, and they are the sovereign judges." Old Court. — " Yes, 118 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. that is an argument that your party are driven to when rea sons fail them. The people in convention framed a consti tution — in other words, a power of attorney to their future legislators, saying what they might do and what they might not do. And they decreed a court of appeals to judge on the subject. This court have judged, and have determined that the legislature has done what the constitution said they should not do; and for so deciding, the legislature have passed a law displacing them and creating a new court : an nihilating the tribunal created by the constitution, to be re placed by one created by the legislature, to decide in its own case. If they can do this, then the constitution is a mere mockery, and we are governed by the will of the majority for the time being — mere mob law. A government under which there is no security for person or property ; and a go vernment under which I would not live." New Court. — "I am afraid you will have to bear it." Old Court. — "The next elections will tell. However, let's quit the subject and take a drink, for we shall not agree." They moved off to the bar, took a drink, and commenced talking about their trades in New York. a Ma foil" said the Frenchman, "I would give one hun dred francs if my father could have witnessed this scene. Oh ! I have learnt more from it than I thought I should in one year. Oh! it was beautiful. Who are those men?" I replied, "I heard one of them speaking just now of the price he sold his cattle at. I presume they are cattle- drivers." "Cattle-drivers ! They are statesmen, sir, states men." "Yes," I replied, "such statesmen as you will find anywhere in Kentucky." " Anywhere in Kentucky ? So much intelligence ? so much self-command? so much philo sophy ? Why, sir, in France, if two men, so opposed, had got into such a conversation, differing as those did, it would probably have ended by their drawing swords. But here you say, 'Let's quit and take a drink;' and off you go and THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 119 drink together, and talk of something else — and these your canaille ! Oh ! mon Dieu I Oh ! I see, I see ; France is not ripe for liberty : she has no such population as this. No, no; you in America can maintain your government, but we in France could not." The canvass went on warmly — the Old Court men con tending that the question was not which party was right; but who had a right to judge. That the legislature had an nulled the tribunal which the constitution designed should judge; and that we were now at sea without rudder or com pass. The result, to the astonishment of all, was the utter defeat and total annihilation of the New Court party; and to show how literally my prediction came true, copy of which I .now have, Judge Clark, who pronounced the decision which was taken up on appeal, was elected Governor of Kentucky. Judge Mills and Judge Boyle soon died, but not before Judge Boyle had been appointed to the Supreme Court of the United States ; and Judge Owsly, the most unpopular of all, was ultimately elected Governor of Kentucky. Never was there such a triumph of principle ; because the feelings of the people, and their interest for the time, were in favor of the law; but they were not willing to have the constitu tion violated to sustain it. The New Court party, being en tirely overthrown in Kentucky, now looked elsewhere for relief. General Jackson had been nominated for the presi dency in 1824, and supposing it was intended as a burlesque got violently angry. But the hatred of the New Court party for Mr. Clay, who sided with the Old Court, caused them to go over in a body to General Jackson, and to throw all their influence in his scale. The leaders of the New Court party might be considered Judge Bibb, Judge Barry, Preston Blair, and Amos Kendall. Judge Bibb was a man who was beloved even by his political enemies, and it was believed was originally thrown on that side by accident. He natu rally leaned to the side of benevolence and mercy, and he 120 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. believed the rigid construction of the Old Court would ruin the country. He sided against them, and his example was all-powerful. It was followed by Barry, who, between mercy and the law, always leaned to the former. He was an elo quent man, and very much beloved by his partisans. Blair was a shrewd, jovial, laughing, sociable fellow — full of wit and fun — so interesting that his violent political enemies sought his company at the highest period of excitement to which this political struggle reached. He was withal, though a nominal follower, the actual schemer and leader of the party. Amos Kendall, editor of the " Argus," the mouth piece of the party, was a shrewd deep-calculating Yankee — a fine writer, and by some thought to be the planner of the party. But that was not so. Blair was the man. Among those four, the most perfect harmony and concert existed; and in their fall, they were bound the faster together. It has been my fortune to be so placed as to be able to estimate the power of men combined to accomplish a common object, before parties became disciplined as they now are. To the close of Mr. Monroe's administration, and to the period of which I now write, the election of president, after the coming in of Jefferson, had caused no excitement. A junto, at Richmond, relieved the community of all trouble on the sub ject, by making a nomination which was generally acquiesced in, and the election went almost by default. This junto con sisted of Judge Roan, Judge Brook, John Brockenbrough, and Thomas Ritchie. They having decreed who was to be president, he was nominated and elected. But now Virginia had no prominent man to offer, and this junto ceased their office. There were no conventions then — no compact disci pline of parties on the national theatre. It was a matter not generally understood. But the struggles in Kentucky had made aspirants there familiar with it. This discipline was carried by the four New Court men aforesaid into national politics. It was faintly begun during General Jackson's THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 121 first campaign, before the New Court party were overthrown. The unlooked-for strength of General Jackson, which came very near electing him, and the ultimate prostration of the New Court party, gave additional energy to their leaders in the next presidential struggle; and General Jackson was elected by an overwhelming majority. Judge Bibb was made Secretary of the Treasury, Judge Barry Postmaster- General, Amos Kendall third auditor, and Preston Blair editor of the " Globe," the organ of the government. Thus the New Court party were transferred from Kentucky to Wash ington City. A new set of tactics was created — rewards and punishments introduced-;* and henceforward the spoils were considered as belonging to the victors. Now the presidential elections assumed a violence never before known, and it re mains to be seen whether an alteration will not be required in our constitution to correct the evil. The temptation had never before existed to disturb the quiet and probity of our smoothly moving government. But now corruption is abroad, and will go on increasing to a point of culmination, unless some means can be devised to put an end to it. This it will be hard to do, as those who could apply the remedy are interested in perpetuating it. Our government is presumed to be based upon the virtue and intelligence of the people, and to be preserved only at the cost of eternal vigilance. If so, it must fall, because this canker-worm of corruption cannot be always eating and produce no impression — like the worm in the bud, it will in time produce a sickly hue in the political visage of our country, and ultimately drive it into decay. There will never be a monarchy in America. I have no fear of that. But when our government becomes * This is not thought to have been the work of- Bibb and Barry. Bibb, though a warm politician, was ever a kind and charitable man. 11 122 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. corrupt, its citizens will gradually lose all respect for it — with the loss of respect will follow the loss of amor Patria, and we shall gradually sink to the condition of Mexico or of the South American states. To base a government upon the existence of virtue and intelligence, and the necessity for eternal vigilance to pre serve it, is requiring for its continuance a perfection in hu man nature which is not to be found, and ought not to be looked for. The basis should rather be in absence of all temptation to do wrong. A president should not have it in his power to reward those who aid in electing him. On this head, I will refer to a treatise on this subject, which I had prepared for separate publication; but being disheartened by the doubt whether I could draw public atten tion to it with any good effect, I abandoned the idea. How ever, on a future page, where the subject is again incidentally referred to, the plan is laid down. CHAPTER XXI. THE PERILS AND DIFFICULTIES ATTENDING THE INVESTI GATION OF LAND-TITLES IN KENTUCKY. After the rising of the legislature, I started for the Yellow Banks, to look into the land there, to see about getting pos session of it, and selling it. My first object was to survey out all the interfering claims, and ascertain how much of the land was clear in title, and what occupants were on it; then to have all that which was clear in title sectionized into tracts of from two hundred to four hundred acres, with an accurate description attached to each section, of the land contained in it, with the probable value thereof; springs, improve- THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 123 ments, &c, with the settlers thereon. Having obtained a very intelligent and very honest surveyor for the purpose, I started him on the work. But now difficulties presented themselves which were likely to give me much trouble. Like the anti-renters in New York, the occupants refused to sur render the land, and with better ground here, for I had no leases from them, and they acknowledged no tenancy, but denied my right. The number of parties concerned would render a . suit very troublesome, and it was very important for me to avoid it if possible. Always believing in the policy of taking things by the smooth handle, here I saw a great deal of address was neces sary. If delayed to put off every man by suit, I might be delayed many years in my progress. I believed a great deal of determination of purpose was required, tempered with a great deal of evident justice and kindness. Most of the occupants were reasonable, if left to themselves, but an effort was being made to create resistance, and word was brought me from one man, considered a very desperate fellow, that if I came on his land he would shoot me. My resolution was immediately taken to go there at once and alone. Danger, like a dog, will often bite you if you fly from it, but will flee at your approach. I knew, if I suffered myself to be scared off, I had as well abandon the business, for of this kind was the chief which I had to do. I must, therefore, make it evident that that could not be done, and the sooner the bet ter; for, if one man drove me, all would do it. I knew, too, that the messenger would report my answer, my manner, everything about me. All these considerations passed in my mind in a twinkling. So I observed, looking steadily at him : "He says he will kill me, does he?" "Yes, sir, if you go on his land; and, sir, let me advise you not to go there." "Very well," said I, "I will see;" giving him a meaning nod. It was about twelve miles off. I started the next morning for his house. I never yet saw a man who, if you 124 TnE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. could get into his house, and had not before had a difficulty with him, would not treat you civilly while you were there. I determined, if I could, to get into his house before speak ing to him. On arriving there, and inquiring if that was Mr. M.'s residence, and being informed by his wife it was, I alighted and went in. He immediately came in from the back yard. I arose, and, with a firm but civil air, remarked : "Mr. M., I suppose." "Yes, sir," he said, rather gruffly. "My name is T." "Take a seat, sir," said he. His wife was a healthy, fine-looking woman, and they had a house full of children. I talked with her of the country, her children, their ages, dispositions, &c. I determined not to leave the house until a certain ferocity on M.'s face left it — in a word, to conquer his good feelings, but, at the same time, to preserve on my own countenance a sort of inward determina tion of purpose under a complaisant air; such, indeed, as was more than half natural. After sitting and talking, until I thought he was in the "right tune," I rose to depart, and asked him if he would walk with me. He did so to the gate. I asked him to walk farther, as if I wanted to be out of hearing of the house. He moved on hesitatingly, as I led my horse. Finally he stopped, saying he reckoned that was far enough. "Well, Mr. M." said I, "I was told yesterday that you had said if ever I came on your land you would shoot me. I did not believe the statement, but it is my rule never to be under a threat, so I thought I would come and see whether there was any truth in it." " Shoot you?" " Yes ; so I heard." "No, sir," said he, "I never had any such notion." " Such, sir, was my opinion. There are men who will try to make mischief between others, with out any ground for it, and my rule is always to go to bead- quarters for facts. I am satisfied you never said so ; but you must not think hard of my coming to inquire." "Not at all," said he; "I like you the better for it." We parted, the best friends, and he was of great service to me afterwards. THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 125 We had some conversation after making friends. I re marked to him that my business necessarily brought me in contact with men of all kinds, and I could not expect all to be reasonable. There would be some who would expect to drive me from my duty, and to bully me; I knew he was not of the number, was the reason why I had pursued the course I did with him ; " for, Mr. M., you know every man has a right to preserve his own life at any cost, and I am not one of those who would- rather be killed than save my life at any forfeit. If any man in this region has such an idea, he had better not let me hear of his threats. I am determined not to be driven from my duty. I will always do what is reasonable and just, where the man I deal with is so ; but I am firmly resolved to take the very first occasion which may present itself to convince those who think other wise of me of their mistake. I want no difficulties with any one, if I can help it ; but I have made up my mind that I have to do this business under all its difficulties, and I intend to do it." "You are right, sir," he said. "If the land is yours, you ought to have it, and I do not blame you." For a long time a'fter this I met with no difficulty. It was known through the country that I had gone to this man's house, who had threatened me ; that he was now my friend, and others had been warned by him to take care of me. I never named anything of our interview, only that I had been to see bim, •and found him very friendly, instead of being shot by him.. I had, however, a more obstinate fellow, by the name of O, to encounter, one who was afterwards killed in a street- fight in Owensboro'. I was warned to beware of him — was told he was a desperate devil. I felt assured I would have to take the chances of an encounter with some of those fel lows, and must trust to luck to bring me out safely. If I escaped well, it might be of future service, provided I could leave a good impression. This I was determined to do, but felt some uneasiness as to the cost. I determined on my 11* 126 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. course, however, and trusted to Providence for the end. An application was finally made to me to buy C.'s place, and I sold it. I had agreed to pay all for their improvements who acted reasonably, but C. would not. I knew now I had to prepare for an attack, and would have met him at his own house, in conformity to my rule laid down, if I had had ground to go upon ; but I had none. I knew that the attacking party was, nine times out of ten, the successful one, but I had to await him, and he was not long coming. He presented himself one morning at my office, stood in the door before me, as I wrote at my table, with my back to the fire. I had used an axe-handle as a poker. It was pretty heavy, and stood against the fireplace, convenient for me to reach it. I also kept a dirk by me, which was on the chim ney-piece. I will premise that this was not kept with any expectation of using it, but, by having it, it answered as a protector; and while, if I had known I would use it, I would rather have taken a moderate beating than to have done it, yet, without arms, and a general belief that I would use them if provoked, I could not have maintained my position at all. Nine brave men out of ten have no taste for danger, and will avoid it, if certain that by any particular course they will encounter it; and nine out of ten have a comparative courage, that is, they are braver towards some men than others. Take a man who would sit upon a keg of gunpowder with you, and deliberately apply a match if challenged to it; let him have cause of offence of equal magnitude against two others, one as determined as himself and the other timid, the chances are ten to one that he will act very differently towards the two. And if a man can get out the impression that all attempt to bully him is fruitless, he is very apt afterwards not to be bullied. From my youthful days, I had the greatest abhorrence of quarrelling and fighting; so much so, that I have sometimes feared I went too far to avoid it. That same feeling still THE TILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 127 followed me ; and, in the ordinary pursuits of life, I think it probable I should have been remarked for my extreme peace- fulness of character. But I had engaged in a business, the difficulties of which I did not know until I engaged in it ; and it promised to be very lucrative. I saw, if I pursued it, that I must probably encounter many hard jolts; and the ques tion was, should I meet them, or retreat ? My pride and my interest opposed my retreating ; so I made up my mind to take the hazards. In doing this, I was aware that there was a charm in a reputation for fearlessness, which, if I could maintain, might go far towards carrying me through safely. So I, upon philosophically weighing the matter, determined to take the hazards. I had always great confidence in rea son and justice, and believed that it seldom happened that any man, who would have them always on his side, would get into any difficulty that he could not get out of with credit. I determined never to be at fault there ; to be always courteous, polite, and friendly ; and so being, I be lieved I would get through safely. One fortunate quality appertains to me. I always have my presence of mind, and know exactly what I am doing. Full of ardor, and impetu ous in my purposes; nevertheless, under the strongest pas sion, I know what I am doing.. Anger never deprives me of my reason, although I can be as angry as any man. I do not mean to say that in anger I would never do what I would be sorry for in my cool moments — though not often ; yet I intend to say that anger never entirely dethrones my judgment. These remarks are preliminary to the relation of the affair with C . As he entered the door, his visage looked as red as an old turkey-gobbler's, and there was desperation in it. I never saw a man who seemed so bent on mischief. I saw that there was death in the pot, and that if he got bold of me he would probably kill me. My determination was not 128 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. to be killed, if I could help it, even if I had to go to any extremity to avoid it. I had used, as aforesaid, an axe-handle as a fire-poker, which was about the right length to be wielded with the best effect. As I saw him enter, I reached back and got hold of it. If now I could by a sudden motion spring at him, and knock him down, before he could get hold of me, I might master him; but I had a dirk with which I was determined to protect myself, but not to use, except in the last extremity. This lay on the chimney-piece behind me. "What do you want, sir?" said I. " I want to know if you have sold my place, sir." " I have, sir." " Then, sir, do you intend to pay me for my improvements?" "I do not, sir." "Before, then, sir, you shall get possession of it, you shall walk over my dead body." " Ah, indeed !" said I, suddenly rising, grasping my dirk in my left hand, hav ing the axe-handle in my right, and springing at him with a stroke of the latter, which he dodged by jumping back out of the door, when he turned and ran. The end was, I got him to sign a writing giving me up his land'. As a number saw the whole transaction, it was useless for me to speak of it, and so I did not ; but as others jeered him about running, he had to make the best excuse he could, by saying he believed I would as soon kill a man as eat, in the which he was never more mistaken in his life. But the impression answered me a good purpose, for I was never afterwards threatened or had any difficulty with these men ; and moved eighty families off of the land in one year, and had not a single dispute or lawsuit with any man. Whether I act prudently or not in relating this incident to you, is questionable, for it would seem to approve a course of violence, which I by no means do, unless in a case of very rare occurrence, and of very extreme necessity. Mine was a very peculiar case. I had been employed to recover the lands of this company; I must go forward, or acknowledge I was THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 129 afraid to do so; and I then, of course, must resign, and let some more resolute agent take my place. This was too mor tifying to think of. I therefore weighed all the chances, and believed I could go through safely; and that the best plan to do so was to create an impression that the surest way to get into a difficulty with me was to threaten me, and for me to ride ten miles at any time to meet a threat. There is no adage more true, than that " the surest way to get clear of danger is to meet it boldly ;" and although I have an aversion to "scenes," affrays, and quarrels, beyond per haps what any other man has — for to me men who are en gaged in them are always prima facie blackguards, rowdies, and bullies, characters to me more hateful almost than any other which could be named — yet, where the extremity of the case made it necessary, I deemed it justifiable to run the hazard, being sure never to be in the wrong, but so clearly in the right, that public opinion should sustain me, let the consequences be what they might. Thus, while I have determined to meet assaults always more than half way, if I could foresee them, I have also felt so natural an inclination to conciliate, as to feel confident that no man who knew me would doubt for one moment, if he heard of my having an affray, that I was in the right — for I would not have one, and be in the wrong. CHAPTER XXII. ACCOUNT OF TWO ROBBERS — FIRST STEAM NAVIGATION ON THE OHIO — LOSS OF ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY DOLLARS. I NOW returned to Frankfort, and at Hardinsburg, on my waysup, witnessed the trial of two men for highway robbery. It seems a Mr. Jones, a preacher, had been stopped by them 130 THE PILOT OF nUMAN LIFE. some two or three miles below Hardinsburg, taken into the woods at a distance from the road, where they proposed killing him. But he protested he was a poor preacher, not worth robbing, and if killed they would hazard the penalties of the law without any benefit. They emptied his saddle bags, in which, with a few clothes, they found a Bible bound in red morocco, and about his person a few dollars. These they took, but concluded he was not worth murdering, if they knew how to escape detection without it. One was for kill ing him; but the other, named Thornton, proposed to swear him on his own Bible not to inform upon them. This done, they let him go. It was growing dark. He proceeded on to Hardinsburg, and they towards the Yellow Banks. On Jones's arrival at Hardinsburg, he went to a friend to consult what to do. He stated a case hypothetieally similar to his own, and asked what the robbed man ought to do. He was answered that, acting under duress, the .oath ought not to be considered binding, and to save the community from the depredations of such a band, it was the duty of the robbed man to disregard his oath, and lodge information. " Then," said he, " I am the man who has been robbed, a few miles below this place, not one hour ago." A company was im mediately mustered, and proceeded in search of the robbers, taking Jones with them to identify them. At Crawford's, six miles below Hardinsburg, the robbers had put up, got their supper, and gone to bed, when the armed party arrived and took them. Seeing Jones among them, the elder of the robbers, whose name I have forgotten, said to him, " Ah, Jones," for Jones had told them his name, " that little red Bible has saved your life for once ; beware next time." They were taken and lodged in jail that night, and were on trial next day before magistrates as I went through, were committed, and ultimately sent to the penitentiary for five years. They were both young — Thornton about twenty, the other about twenty-five, and THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 131 the most determined, desperate-looking wretch I ever saw. Had Jones not told on them, these men would have met me about Blackford's Creek, some twenty miles on their next day's travel ; but anywhere on the road would have answered as well, for there was not a more dreary wilderness in all the West than this road was, and in all probability I should have been murdered by them. Here was another providential in terposition, as I considered it. These same men served out their time, were liberated, and soon detected in another rob bery, for which they were sentenced for ten years. The elder made an attempt to escape, and was shot on the roof of the penitentiary by young Scott, son of the keeper. I had not before carried arms, but did after this, and generally gave a wide berth to anyone that I met on the road. Passing through Louisville, I put up at Gwathmey's old stand, where the "Northern Bank" now stands. Here I heard at dinner a conversation in regard to the first trip made by a steamboat, from New Orleans to Louisville, a few years be fore. She was called the " Buffalo." Capt. Shreve commanded her. She made the trip, I think, in thirty days. The usual time by keels and barges had been ninety.* The citizens, in compliment, gave him a dinner for the wonderful achieve ment, and, in a speech which he made on the occasion, he predicted that the day was not far distant when the trip would be made in sixteen days. This was considered an ex tremely sanguine estimate. "But," said one of the parties, " this prophecy has been already more than realized ;" and some boat was named which had made it in twelve, or possibly ten days. This was in 1819, when Louisville contained about four or five thousand • * Barges were then moved by "cordelling" — i. K., some of the hands would take out a line some hundred yards ahead, tie it to a tree, and the balance would pull the boat up. Or, they would draw it up by taking hold of bushes where admissible-p-by which means they could only make about fifteen miles per day, against a current of three or four miles an hour. 132 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. inhabitants. Capt. Shreve had to buy fence-rails at $5 per hundred, for fuel ; and when they were not to be had, which was half the time, he had to lay by until his hands could cut wood. At this time, a stage ran twice a week between Louisville and Frankfort, and was not more than half filled with pas sengers. There was no turnpike, and so deep were the roads in winter that I recollect, on one occasion, making a very hard day's ride, and getting only ten miles. Arrived in Frankfort, I went at my usual avocations, in the usual way, and soon again went to Gallatin. In return ing, I lost, at a house where I had stopped for dinner, $150, which I did not discover until several miles on my journey; then I turned back to endeavor to find it, being satisfied I had dropped it when I took out my pocketbook to pay my bill. But no one knew anything of it. There are times when money is worth much more to us than at others. My ar rangements left me none to spare, and I could not afford this loss. I was unwilling to confess it to Judge B., who had so high an opinion of my business qualifications, lest it might lower me in his opinion ; for I ought not to have carried so much money where I was liable to lose it. I ought to have put it into a belt or handkerchief, and tied it around my body under my shirt, all but what was necessary to pay travelling expenses. However, the mischief was done, and could not now be helped. I had to devise means to get along without it until my next quarter's salary was due. I concluded to get on as long as I could, and then explain to my tavern- keeper, and get him to lend me a little. It happened, how ever, that I was not under the necessity of borrowing, and I was very glad of it, because it has a bad effect when a man is reduced to borrowing. It makes those to whom he would be likely to apply, shy of him. A young man should avoid it if possible. I consider that, in the end, this was no loss to me. The lesson it taught me was worth its cost. THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 133 CHAPTER XXIII. MY FIRST LAW ARGUMENT — ARRIVAL OF JUDGE B. — TRIP TO THE YELLOW BANKS — DISCUSSION ABOUT JACK RAN DOLPH. I now proceeded to put in form the materials I had col lected at the Yellow Banks, in regard to the entries of Ross and May, which I had had surveyed. They called to begin at the upper end of the Yellow Banks, about forty miles above Green River, and run to- the lower end thereof, and back for quantity. I had had a front profile of the bank taken at the upper and lower end, and at various intermediate points ; had all neatly painted, and an argument framed to sustain the entry, which was in litigation. The large entry of May, Banister, & Co. was also in litiga tion, but with a decision against us. On looking over the record, and applying the facts which I knew of, I saw there was a fatal defect which had escaped notice. I noted it. The argument about the Yellow Banks entries was very long and complex. What made it so would be uninteresting to you. I only deem it necessary to state the fact for the con nection of the tale, and what is to follow. In my book of briefs, I noted every case, so far as investigated, in the same way. During this fall, Judge B. came out on horseback, as all had to do, for there was no other way. I was delighted to see him, and conscious that I had a good show to make for him. He was a remarkable man. The most thorough man- of business I ever saw, when on business; but a boy in his 12 134 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. fondness for enjoyment, when he had an opportunity to in dulge it. After he had been with me a day or two, I began to feel anxious to exhibit to him my work, of which I was some what vain, and I presumed he would be anxious to see it. But it seemed irksome to him, and he avoided it: I got one sit ting with him, however, and, on examining my Yellow Banks argument, he said : " Whenever that suit comes on, you must put that argument into the hands of your lawyer ; that it was a very strong view of the case." I felt flattered that he should think so: I directed, then, his attention to the other of May, Banister, & Co:, and what I thought a fatal defect. He said I was right; the view was correct; and instructed me to abandon the entry, and rely on the patent only: In conver sation with one of my friends, he was pleased to speak in very complimentary terms of the correctness of my views. Soon we proceeded to the Yellow Banks, engaging in general conversation about everything; He was remarkably affable, had a very quaint way of talking, and a laugh the most per plexing to the listener. He would begin to laugh, and hold on beyond a reasonable time, and you felt yourself in the un pleasant dilemma of letting him laugh alone, or force your self to laugh when the provocation had ceased: He was a great admirer of Jack Randolph, and wished all others to be so: I was just the reverse; He said in Randolph there was a high-toned chivalry which all must admire, and that his very isolation, his being without a national party, was to him a feather in his cap: He was too high-toned to belong to any party; "and, in fact," he observed, "there has al ways been in my eye a moral beauty, a moral purity attached to politicians of that school, which I could see in no other." "You think others are not as honest, then, judge ?" I re joined. "I believe most in those," said he. " Well, sir," I observed, " I am sorry to differ with you. THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 135 Randolph seems to me against everybody but those who are willing to follow him blindly: I do not recollect of one single measure of our national policy of which he is the author, and, if he has advocated any, they are few: He is a man of cour age, of transcendent abilities; to a favored few kind, but to the world in general, otherwise: An autocrat among his partisans, he will tolerate no difference of opinion; Ran dolph seems to me to be a man who, having been disap pointed in his youth, has become petulant, disagreeable, and impracticable in all things since. He is a man of unbounded satire, of universal reading, and such minute acquaintance with every recorded event, that he is able to detect any er ror, and to correct any man who blunders. As a critic, he is feared by all, and he has little charity for the weak. He has good feeliDg for but few, and little of a social kind. He cannot laugh ; I doubt whether he ever laughed in his life. No man can tell me what policy Mr. Randolph advocates — . except that he is for Virginia against the world ; they can tell me what he is opposed to, and that is everything except Virginia; but not what he is for." With a smile of compas sion, the judge remarked that " the Kentuckian was growing on me very fast." "How so, judge?" said I. "Why," said he, hesitating, and smiling good humoredly, "in a very confident expression of opinion for so young a man." " Well, judge, you must recollect you provoked me to it, by an in timation, not very equivocal, that the man who did not agree with you about Mr. Randolph was wanting in moral purity. Feeling myself honest in my views, however erroneous they might be, if I was excited to an immodest expression of my opinions, it is not to be wondered at." — We jogged on to the Yellow Banks, where I showed him the condition of everything, and what I had done, with which he seemed well pleased; and in consequence of there being a large sur plus in the entries of Ross & May, which could not be held against an elder patent, he advised me to go to Washington 136 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. City, see the Masons, and endeavor to compromise with them, giving one-half for the other. These things being settled, we returned to Frankfort, and the judge to Virginia. The papers, including many relating to titles of land, which had been in the hands of T. O, former agent, were in the hands of his son T. D. C. of Cincinnati, and there it was necessary for me to go to get them. CHAPTER XXIV. GROWTH OF CINCINNATI AND ITS CAUSE. At this time Cincinnati contained about six thousand in habitants, and seemed to me overgrown for an inland town — so prone are we to fix our estimates by things which we have been accustomed to. Having been raised in Richmond, at the head of tide-water and at the falls which broke the navigation, I concluded that no town could grow very large, without similar causes. I thought Louisville would become a very large town on account of the falls. I did not reflect that towns were agents for the country, and that they would grow in proportion to the country tributary to them. Thus, if you place one leg of a pair of dividers on Cincinnati, and open them to any given extent, and sweep a circle, then sweep that same circle from any other point on the Ohio, no other will contain so large an -area of country within it. But Cincinnati now projected, and soon completed the Day ton Canal, some sixty miles long, which not only added this sixty miles to the outer circumference of the aforesaid circle, but brought the whole trade of the great Miami to Cincin nati. John Jacob Astor is reported to have said that it cost him more labor to make the first thousand dollars than THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 137 it did to make one hundred thousand afterwards. The phi losophy of this is that, without some capital to work with, intellect is put upon a level with brute force ; a man is with out tools, and can only gain by manual labor; but with some capital, he can expand his intellect, provide the means to exe cute what the mind will cut out, and so go forward, gaining every day, and making all the gains instruments to acquire more; accumulating, to use a sailor's phrase, " hand over hand." This process was now illustrated with Cincinnati; she had been a long time reaching six thousand inhabitants, and it cost her a great struggle to make this canal, but it being finished, she found advantages greatly overbalancing its cost. The income yielded a revenue more than equal to the inte rest on the cost of the canal. Of course, then, this income would borrow as much money forever as the canal cost, and consequently the canal may be said to have cost nothing. Yet Cincinnati reaped all the benefits which she would had the cost been a dead weight. She now projected, and executed the White Water Canal. She could do this with the money which the income from the Dayton Canal would pay the interest on, and not feel its cost. This done, she had now its revenue to borrow more money with, to make other improvements; and other projected improvements now promised so good a return, that individuals were willing to embark their capital, and they went forward with great spirit. Such has been the effect, that Cincinnati is now approximating towards two hundred thousand inhabitants. What a wonderfully rapid increase ! The advantage of such improvements is that, besides the increase of its commerce, it causes manufactories to flourish, and few who have not taken the pains to examine the subject are aware of the effect which capital invested in manufacturing has to in crease population. For instance, a merchant with a capital of two hundred thousand dollars will manage it with some three or four clerks, arid give employment to some six or 12* 138 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. eight drays ; whereas the same sum employed in cotton or woollen manufacturing will employ directly in the factory some four hundred hands, and in various ways indirectly as many more. Cincinnati now engaged in such, but had long previously engaged in every branch of iron manufacture, especially steamboat engines, railroad cars, etc., to a greater extent than any town in the West; also in every kind of wood work, doing that by machinery which was done elsewhere by hand, so that, if a man wished to build a house in Memphis, he could obtain the flooring ready dressed, the door-frames, doors, window-frames, sashes, lights, and all painted, and then his bedsteads and other furniture, cheaper here, than they could be made at home. Hence Cincin nati was rapidly becoming the great workshop of the Mis sissippi Valley. . But lately, Louisville has been making a great struggle, and is succeeding in dividing this business with Cincinnati. The concentration of railroads to Cincinnati from Balti more, Philadelphia, New York, and Boston, naturally brings most of the emigrants first there, whence such as cannot find employment go elsewhere. But as Cincinnati has such a resource to draw labor from, it will be seen that there is no estimating any limit to her growth. THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 139 CHAPTER XXV. VISIT TO WASHINGTON, RICHMOND— CHANGE OF TERMS FOR DOING BUSINESS — RETURN TO KENTUCKY — ACCI DENTAL MEETING WITH MY BROTHER — AUCTION SALE OF LAND AT THE YELLOW BANKS. Having accomplished the object of my visit, I now re turned to Frankfort, and, having obtained from J. L. M. the necessary powers, proceeded to Washington, where I met the Masons; but none was authorized to act, so I failed in mak ing the desired arrangement, and went on to Richmond, and now proposed a new arrangement with Judge Bouldin, that he should give me five hundred dollars per annum, pay my expenses, and give me ten per centage commission on sales, in which the other members of the firm of May, Banister, & Co., in Virginia, might join him, and divide the expense with him. To this he agreed; and accordingly the papers were prepared. Here were about one dozen parties interested, and not one feme covert or infant among them; such another instance would not occur again in an age. The titles were all vested in three trustees, the survivors and survivor. They wished to make me one of the trustees, but I would not agree to it. I wished to occupy a position which would enable me to settle up at any time, pay off, and be done with the business. So I was appointed attorney, in fact, for the trustees, with plenary powers to sell, sue, arbitrate, or compromise all difficulties; and I had liberty to take any other business which might offer. I now went to Norfolk to see my mother, who was yet alive, though very old and feeble; but with her 140 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. full strength of mind. She was much pleased to see me, and much gratified to hear I was doing well. I spent some time in Norfolk and Richmond before my return. I found my reputed success had given a wonderful interest to my society. Finally I returned, and was warmly received by all my friends in Frankfort. I went soon to the Yellow Banks, to prepare for a great sale of land at auction, and made the necessary preparations, advertisements, &c, to sell in the fall. I had forgotten to mention, in its proper place, the arrival in Kentucky last year of my brother Philip, who came out in compliance with my request. He had just obtained his license. In my travels, I stopped at Elizabethtown, a neat small village in Kentucky, walked into the tavern, there saw a young man reading a newspaper which concealed his face, and he did not at first look up. But presently we caught each other's eyes, and so joyful a meeting seldom occurs as ours was. He was bound for the Yellow Banks, and, though myself bound elsewhere, I returned there with him. When our horses were ordered, out came his, a little black Mexican mustang, which he had bought for twenty-five dollars, with a saddle and bridle which he had got for ten. We had a hearty laugh over his horse, and in after life often recurred to the event with amusing recollections. There is much gratification in looking back to such events in our past his tory, where we have no aristocratic pride to make us ashamed of it. Neither of us had any. We were proud of having been the architects of our own fortunes; often traced the career of our rich schoolmates as far as we had heard of them — nine out of ten of whom were now poor. But we were both now happy, and I told him he would soon be making money. This, however, is not so easy for a young lawyer in a new country, and it was yet two or three years before he was able to do much. Having stayed with him about a week, I re turned to Frankfort. THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 141 In Frankfort (returning to my narrative), I remained, proceeding as usual with my investigations, until the time for the sale at the Yellow Banks, when I went down. I had had a large number of maps prepared of the sectionized lands to be sold, with books of surveys, the lots numbered and de scribed, so that with a map any one could find any lot and examine it ; and the sale and transfer by number were very simple and easy. I will here note the difference between doing a thing with system and method, and the reverse. By the steps I took, I had the business under my eye in my office, and could there, with all the information I needed, make contracts and sales with little trouble. Whereas, others who subsequently be came owners of large bodies of land, adjoining those I sold, were accustomed to go out with every man who wanted to buy, whether he bought or not, to view the land, often time thrown away ; but if they sold, then to attend with a sur veyor, run it off, make contracts and conveyances. Now such land as I did not sell at auction I was ready afterwards to sell in my office. A reference to my book of surveys gave me quantity, quality, and value. I had con tracts all printed, as also deeds, bonds, and every necessary paper, with the prices on the face of each tract. And often I would sell a tract of land, and have all the papers signed and the whole transaction closed in thirty minutes ; whereas, in the other case, a week would probably be con sumed. One of the company for which I acted proffered to act as auctioneer, and was a fellow of infinite humor. He kept the company in a continual roar of laughter. Among the evidences of his humor, I recollected the following : — "Here, gentlemen," said he, " is a first-rate tract of land, rich, lies well, and is well watered." "Stop, Mr. Miller," I remarked ; "that is a mistake; there is no water on the tract." " How do the people live, then ?" he asked ; " have 142 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. they learned to live without drinking ?" " No," said I, "but they use a well." " Very good," he replied ; " did I not say it was well watered ?" Again he said : " Now, gentlemen, I will offer you a tract with a fine mill-seat on it." " No, Mr. Miller," I replied, " you are mistaken ; there is no water- power on it." " But," said he, " there is a first-rate place for a horse-mill." " Well, gentlemen," I remarked, "you understand Mr. Miller's humor ; recollect I vouch for the correctness of the description given in the book of surveys (which description was always read before offering the land), and nothing more." " Humph !" said he, " I understand from this the gentleman doubts my credibility. Now there is not a more truthful man living, as you will all find out when you come to know me. So let's begin again. " 'Some things are lies frae end to end, And some great lies were never penned ; But that which I am going to tell Is just as true as the devil's in hell, Or Dublin city.' " " Arrah ! may it plaise your honor," said an Irishman in the crowd, " it's meself that's been there." " Then you've seen his Majesty," said Miller. " No," said the Irishman, " but O'Lary did when he went to the birthday at London." The humor of Miller aided very much the sale of the land, which, however, went very low, but better than was expected. After the first day I stopped the sale, my commissions amounting to about two thousand dollars. This was a pretty lift, and I now felt in high spirits. I had proclaimed to all the squatters that, according to the ground they had cleared, I would pay them per acre one- fourth of what the land brought per acre ; and this so far satisfied them that I got clear of over eighty settlers without any difficulty. THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 143 CHAPTER XXVI. A GAMBLING ADVENTURE — THE PHILOSOPHY OF GAMING. I will now name an event necessary to a candid detail of my history, though one of which I should be ashamed. It is necessary, however, to guard you against falling into a similar difficulty. After the sale had been over two Or three days, and I had given contracts to the purchasers and closed up, there came one evening into my room four young men ; they sat talk ing, and apparently enjoying themselves very much, when presently one of them proposed a game of cards. I replied I was a very poor hand, but would look on and see them play. One went out and got a pack of cards. They com menced lue, and went on for an hour with little advantage any way, when one remarked, " Well, boys, this is poor fun for T— — , who does not play, so let's quit." " Oh no," I replied; "go on; lam entertained in seeing you play." "Let us," said another, "change the game to Vingt-et-une ; any one can play that, and bet as high or as low as he pleases. This was a game which I thought I could join in without hazarding more than a few dollars, so I joined them and played on for an hour, when the deal fell to me. The dealer had generally been winner ; but the bets were so low that it did not amount to much. Now, however, I remarked they began to run higher, and the good fortune -which usually at tended the dealer had deserted me. I was soon loser some forty or fifty dollars, and had a strong inclination to quit, but I thought it would look rather cowardly, and I hoped luck would soon change. But it did not, and went on until I 144 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. had lost $100 ; when I proposed giving up the deal, which had remained with me an unusual time. But one of the company said : " Oh, no ! your only chance to get out is to keep the deal. Luck cannot run the same way always ; it must turn after a while ;" and so I thought until one of them made a pretty heavy bet, and lost it. I had accidentally dropped a card before dealing ; but, in picking it up, put it on the under side of the pack. When this man lost, he snapped his fingers in great disappointment, and said " if that card had not been dropped, he would have won." I asked him how he knew. He looked confused. I then recollected that he had always cut and shuffled the cards. I threw down the pack on the table and rose, saying, I be lieved I had enough of the game. I was urged to hold on. " No," said I; "I find a man should never engage in a business which he does not understand; this gentleman here under stands the run of the cards so perfectly that he knows what card is going to turn up. This is beyond my skill, and, as I cannot hope to win with my ignorance opposed to so much knowledge, I must quit." I was asked if I meant to charge foul play. I answered that I meant to say that, ignorant as I was of the game, I had no business playing with those who were so skilful ; and with some other words we broke up. I now examined into my losses, and found I was minus about $150. " Well," said I, "this maybe worth its cost. I deserve it for playing with men that I did not know to be gentlemen. I will never do it again." Some three or four years after this, in playing with a gentleman, I had become winner, at this same game, some sixty dollars, too large a sum to take, so I endeavored to let him win it back, and bet him $20. He drew two aces, branched, and drew a ten to each : thus win ning from me $80. I now quit, and concluded I was not cut out for card-playing, and so abandoned it. The losses were perhaps lessons cheaply purchased, for I have naturally a THE PILOJT OF HUMAN LIFE. 145 strong inclination for hazard, and might have lost a great deal but for a conviction that a man who plays cards and means always to be fair cannot win. An advantage which I had of most young men was, that when I saw that any habit was injurious I could abandon it. This cannot always be done, and especially at card-playing ; the inclination for which grows as it is indulged in, and many a fine young man is ruined for want of sufficient self-command to avoid it. I know one whose father left him about $25,000. He plays cards with men that he would not be seen in public association with. This is unerringly a bad sign. Any young man who will do it may be considered as lost. It is not all who are considered by the fashionable world as gentlemen who are fair at cards ; and, consequently, a man who means to be fair should play with none. But to play with men with whom he would not publicly associate is to seal his doom. Let any man, who is given to this habit, look back twelve months, and see the difference in his circumstances. Is he not worse off? Has there, at any period, been a time when he could look back and see that for any one month he was gainer ? Go back beyond a year, if his purse has been long enough to hold out beyond one year, and extend the same inquiry to the commencement of his playing, and see if any other answer can be given ; and yet the infatuated man plays on, hoping for a change of fortune. His gambling associates will tell him of men who " had luck against them for a long time, but it finally turned, and they won back all they had lost and a great deal more." This is to keep him on to his habits, in the hope of this change of fortune. But it never comes, and never will come, unless he will adopt the habits of his associates, cheat, and forfeit his position in society as a gentleman. It seems really a loss of reason, a monomania,' for a man who will look back and see, whatever his compan ions may allow him to win temporarily, in order to prevent his quitting in disgust — yet for no one month could he 13 146 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. say he was winner— to continue playing. What is his object ? It is surely the hope of winning, and yet if he is not as blind as a bat, he must see there is no such hope. CHAPTER XXVII. ANECDOTES OF ISHAM TALBOT AND HENRY CLAY. I now returned to Frankfort, to which place I was be coming much attached, finding the society intelligent and agreeable. On alighting at my hotel, I heard Isham Talbot say to an old gentleman, called by courtesy Commodore (his name was Briant. He seemed to have some business with the courts, but otherwise a plentiful stock of leisure on his hands, and an inveterate reader of the newspapers, so much so that he was posted up on every point, had a remarkable memory, and was never found behind the news of the day, or wrong in anything) : " Well, Commodore," said Mr. Talbot, "what's the news?" "Why, Mr. Talbot," replied the Commodore, "I do not hear of any." "Be gud — be gud, then," said Talbot, " there is none." Talbot was a member of the Senate of the United States from Kentucky, and voted for the "Compensation Law," giving to members fifteen hundred dollars per annum, in lieu of their per diem allowance. This caused almost every man who voted for it to be turned out of office. A member of the legislature, a friend of Talbot, who wanted to vote for him, the election being now at hand, asked him how he came to vote for that law. " For a very good reason," re plied Talbot, with a careless air, leaning back in his chair, and puffing away at his cigar. "I am very glad to hear it, THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 147 Mr. Talbot," said the member, "for, really, I have been anxious you should be able to give a satisfactory explanation ; I wish to vote for you again." Puff, puff, puff, went Talbot's cigar, with the smoke curling up in clouds, while he sat with, the most stoical indifference and silence. The member waited, but no reply, "There are many others in my condi tion," continued the member, a little nettled at the indiffer ence with which Talbot treated him, " who would be glad to hear what explanation you have to give." "I wanted the money, be gud," said Talbot, still puffing away. The mem ber, hardly knowing what to reply, rose, and went to the room of some companions, where he related what had occurred. They all burst out into a laugh, and said it was true. He was the only man who had told the truth about it, and they would vote for him again; and he was among the very few who were again elected. Mr. Clay was another. An old friend, a huntsman, who had always supported him, said to him, " Well, Mr. Clay, I have always, until this election, supported you; but now I'm going to vote for Mr. Pope." "Why so, friend?" said Mr. Clay. "Because," replied the huntsman, "I can't stand this 'Compensation Law' business , nohow." "Very well," replied Mr. Clay, " we will not fall out about it. Let me see that rifle of yours;" taking it in his hand, and examining it. " How long have you owned it?" Huntsman. — "0, I hardly know, it has been so long — I reckon, twenty years." Mr. Clay. — " That is about as long as you and I have known each other." '-'Yes," said the huntsman, "I have now voted for you twenty years, and but for this ' Compensation Law' should vote for you again. But I can't stand that, nohow ! Nohow you can fix it." Mr. Clay.—" This rifle you've had twenty years ? She's a good gun, I reckon?" seeming to examine it very closely. "Yes," said the huntsman, "old Kate can't be beat; she's the best piece of iron on this side of Clynch River." Mr. Clay, pulling back the cock, and examining the lock — "Does 148 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. she not miss fire sometimes ?" Huntsman. — " Not once a year." Mr. Clog. — "And what do you do when she misses fire?" Huntsman.- — "Oh! pick the flint, and try her again." Mr. Clay. — "Well, here your rifle misses fire once a year, and you pick the flint and try her again. Now I have missed fire but once in twenty years, and you would throw me away. I think, friend, you will have to pick my flint, and try me again." The old hunter, with tears in his eyes, pulled off his hat, threw it forcibly on the ground, and said — "Dang me if I don't ! Pick your flint, Harry, and we'll try you again." CHAPTER XXVIII. EFFECTS OF AN UNCONCILIATORY SPIRIT, AND THE CONTRARY. On going to the Post-office, I now found a number of let ters giving me new and profitable business, calculated to add much to my income. I seemed to be now on a new theatre, and was in high spirits. Two agents from Virginia, for a part of one of the companies for whom I was acting, now came out to wind up one branch of that business, relating to an interest in ten thousand acres of land back of Port Wil liam, now Carrolton, at the mouth of Kentucky River. Some six original partners had been concerned in it, of whom David Ross was one, and had bought out most of the rest; but for the interests of two, comprising one-third, he had failed to pay. It was accordingly sold, and purchased in by the company, represented by these two agents; they being two of the purchasers. One was a very pleasant, smooth, estimable man, of the THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 149 old Virginia school, but not much a man of business. The other, who was considered the business man, was rigid, fret ful, and unyielding. Taking up an idea that he had the better right to the land, he would listen to no claims opposed to his, and had no charity for the claimants, who were innocent purchasers, and entitled, to consideration. I went with them, and soon found they would accomplish nothing amicably, and told them so. The fretting one, whom I will call No. 2, fumed and fretted terribly. He wanted a few lessons in the Kentucky school, where kindness, evident justice, and endur ing patience may make men do almost anything, but where scolding and a driving policy will accomplish nothing. I soon left them; they spent several months in attempting an adjust ment, but were further off in the end than they were in the beginning. Finally they came to me, and told me they were going home in disgust, and wished me to take the. manage ment of the business. I replied, I would gladly have done it at first; but such hostility to their claim had been now aroused that I had not much hope ; I would, however, try. So I went down, while they returned to Virginia, The settlers were Dutch generally, who are averse to law. A Mr. Porter then kept one of the hotels in Port William, and I. E., since chief owner, and keeper of the Gait House, kept bar for Porter. I went to some of the most intelligent settlers on the land, and told them I was empowered to settle the difficulty, and wished to do it on reasonable terms, which I would explain at a public meeting, that I desired they would procure to take place at Porter's; there were about fifty settlers who met. I told them my object, explained their situation in writing, stated my terms, and desired them to employ a lawyer and submit my written proposition to him. Out of fifty, as might be imagined, there were a great many very unreasonable men, and my patience was put to the test every day for a week; but my mottoes were, "Blessed is he who holds out to the end;" "Never give up the ship;" and 13* 150 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. "One drop of honey will catch more flies than a pint of vinegar," and in one week settled the great preliminaries for an adjustment ; the settlers refusing to employ a lawyer, but relying on my statements to them, and on those preliminaries the matter was finally wound up, being within the limits which the agents said would be satisfactory. I made a very handsome commission, and, of course, my business reputation was not injured with my Virginia employers by doing in so short a time what two other agents had fruit lessly attempted for several months. Here resides General Butler, and two of his brothers with their families ; with whom I spent many pleasant evenings. The remarkable circumstance was exhibited at the battle of New Orleans, of two brothers, William and Thomas, being both aids to General Jackson. Thomas, though but little known to fame, is a man of great decision of character, and only wanted an occasion to distinguish himself. They are all natural men, true and sincere friends. Notwithstanding we differ in politics, it has never in the slightest degree inter fered with our private friendship. I mentioned I. E., as being a barkeeper at this time at Porter's, to show what close business habits andan obliging disposition will do to advance a man. I heard«an anecdote related of him in his presence, which he acknowledged to be true ; that a Southern planter at the Gait House called for a bottle of wine, and had a bottle which had been half used sent to him. Indignant at such treatment, he sent for E. to know the meaning of it. " Why," said E., " when you were here some two or three years ago, you called for a bottle of wine, and this is what you left of it, which was labelled and put away to be handed to you if ever you should come again." How could such a man fail to succeed ? E. reminded me at the Gait House of my adventures with the Dutch, and said he thought I had an unbounded stock of patience. But patience was necessary to success, and I was determined to succeed. THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 151 CHAPTER XXIX. HOW TO CURE A SCOLDING WIFE — THE VALUE OF MONEY. Returning from Port William through the town of New Liberty, I was sitting in the tavern dining-room, when a carryall drove up to the door, and in it I saw, through the window, a beautiful woman, an acquaintance of mine from Fredericksburg, in Virginia. There were reasons (no love matter) why I knew it would be painful to her to see me; so I did not go out to speak to her. She had run away with her husband, jumping out of her chamber window in the snow to meet him ; and here they were travelling in this humble way to seek their fortunes they hardly knew where. Hers was a very eccentric family. Her father was a physi cian of some fame in Fredericksburg. A man of quiet temperament, but very firm and determined in his purposes. Her mother was said, at one time, to be a great seold ; the father had Indured it for a long time without murmuring, until the habit became chronic with his wife; and he saw, unless he could find some mode of stopping it, he was doomed to unhappiness for life. Lectures and expostulations were found only to aggravate the evil. So he determined to try a different experiment. When she would begin to scold, he, if reading or doing anything else, would stop and look at her with apparently the most affectionate concern and com passion, and remain silent; but would presently take her hand affectionately and feel her pulse, and shake his head in sorrow. "What do you mean, doctor?" she would say. " Nothing, my dear, nothing," he would reply ; " let me see your tongue." She would Bhow it. He would turn away 152 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. in sorrow. " Why, what does the man mean ?" she would ask. To which he would make no reply, but go to his room and commence reading. In time, he would leave the library with his book turned down; the wife would enter and see what subject he was reading of, and find it : "The signs of approaching mental derangement, for which bloodletting was advised." In time another scolding fit would come on her, when she could not get him to utter a word in reply ; hut he would feel her pulse with the same ominous shake of the head, and privately gave orders to the servants in the house to watch her and see that she did not hurt herself; but not to name the subject to her, saying she was in danger of going deranged. She observed a mysterious air about the servants, and asked what it meant ; they answered nothing, but with a compassionate and mysterious kindness, still more puzzling and provoking to her, causing her to fume with rage that they would dare to treat her so. When the doctor came in, he had a strait-jacket put on, and bled her; kindness, compassion, and affection marking all his conduct. The servants really believed she was deranged. In this strait- jacket she would be kept until her rage would subside, and she would become quiet; then it would be taken off. When she would commence a course of abuse again £gr such treat ment, then the jacket would be returned, and she be kept in it twenty-four hours longer. When next taken off, she would be more quiet but very sullen, and would, finally, in dulge her natural propensity again. Then he would pursue the same course and bleed her in the other arm, despite of all her resistance and convulsive struggles to avoid it. Now a longer sullen fit would follow, but confinement in the strait- jacket was a great tamer ; and finding that, as long as she continued sullen, the jacket would be continued, she found it best to assume a cheerful air, when it was taken off. Now when she felt the scolding humor coming on, and saw the concerned look of her husband, the figure of the lancet THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 153 presented itself, and, having a natural aversion to bloodlet ting, the scolding fever would subside, and she would get into a good humor. This course of self-constraint continued until by its habitual exercise it became natural ; she became cheerful, pleasant, and affectionate, and he as much so. One day, when in a very good humor, and feeling mag nanimously inclined, she turned to him and said : " Doctor, I have^ been a very bad wife." The doctor replied, "he thought she was a very good one." " Do you love me ?" said she. " Do you doubt it ?" he replied. " No," she said, kissing him ; " but, doctor, it has taken a good deal to make me a good wife. I was hard to tame. I was very bad, but you have done it. I at one time thought I never could forgive you, and determined in my own mind that I never would. But I see now my error, and the propriety of your course. You have saved me from being a miserable wife, and making you a miserable husband. You have taught me to think, and to control my passions." " Ah !" said the doctor, "now you are my own dear wife," kissing her, " and we will differ no more." It is said that one evening, to a company of her friends, she told this story on herself. A gentleman travelling to Frankfort now came on, and I had my hor^g saddled to have his company. He was what is called a drummer from Cincinnati — a man who travels to procure business for his employers. I did not learn his name, but recollect the following remarkable conversation : — I mentioned to him that down about the mouth of Cedar Creek (we were crossing about the head of it), a year or two ago, I had lost one hundred and fifty dollars. " Ah," said he, "and all the interest on it forever?" "Of course," I replied, "the money and everything appertaining to it." "I never care much," said he, " about the loss of the principal, if the interest did not go with it; but I do hate the idea of losing the interest forever. Now these one hundred and fifty dollars — lent out at ten per cent., as can be always safely done — 154 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. would probably to your grandchildren be worth one hundred thousand dollars; the principal being always reinvested an nually." "Oh," I remarked, "you are mistaken; it will double every ten years, and some less, allowing for interest on interest — say seven times multiplied would be from eleven hundred to twelve hundred dollars." " Not at all !" he re joined. "Try it when you go home, and you will find that in sixty-eight years it will go to one hundred thousand dol lars, and in one hundred years it will go to over two millions.'' On getting home I made the estimate, and found, he was correct. This led to his mentioning to me that he was in terested in a banking-house in Cincinnati, into'which he had put five thousand dollars, which had yielded about twenty per cent, per annum. "How could that be?" I asked. "Why," he replied, " we deal altogether in exchanges. We buy the notes of banks in other States, at various discounts from one to five per cent. These we remit and get the specie for, or bills; we also discount bills of exchange on short time — never over sixty days, and, no matter which way they go, we charge some premium, never less than one per cent. ; if on New Orleans, two per cent., and here most of our business is done. Now the English cotton and tobacco buyers send most of their funds to New York, or sell their bills in New York, because they always bear a better price there than they do in New Orleans ; and, hence, they want to sell ex change on New York, and will, generally, discount from half to one per cent, for it, by which means, by the time we get our funds to New York, we have made about three per cent. on them, and then we draw on New York from Cincinnati at two per cent., which makes five. Now, when the credit of a house is so well established that the public will deal freely with it, it can do a very large business on a very small capi tal. Thus : A wishes to sell exchange on New York for one thousand dollars, at sixty days; we buy; B wishes to buy; we sell at four months, gaining sixty days. Now it matters not THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 155 whether we have funds in New York or not, we have estab lished a credit there ; in fact, have a branch of our house as well as a branch in New Orleans. We sell bills to all ap plicants, no matter to what amounts, who will take them at four months, and we buy all we can get at two months. In case, when the time comes round for the payment of what we have sold, there is not found enough purchased to pay for them, the house in New York meets the difference by drawing on New Orleans, where we can always place a plentiful stock ; all the capital we need is to cover balances; as, for instance — if we do business to the amount of five hundred thousand dollars — the difference between the purchased and sold bills will not probably exceed fifty thousand dollars. If, then, we have fifty thousand dollars, we can do business and get the exchange on five hundred thousand dollars." "But," said I, " you would not sell a bill at four months and buy at two on the same terms, without regard to interest?" "Ex change," said he, "does not include interest. Interest is according to time, besides — but our profit is in the difference between the price we pay and the price we get." At that time exchanges were not so nicely regulated as now ; the profits were greater. This conversation made a deep impression on me, and I considered that I had learnt a good lesson from this traveller. 156 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. CHAPTER XXX. PRETTY GIRLS — RESOLUTE YOUNG LAW STUDENT — YOUNQ LAWYERS OF FRANKFORT. After dressing, I went around to see my acquaintances, and with one of them to see the girls. It is wonderful how pretty the girls, who dress with taste and fashion, look to a man who has been a long time in the woods. I recollect, on my first arrival from Virginia, the girls in Lexington, where I first saw any fashionable ladies, looked much prettier than the girls in Richmond; but, on returning, the case was changed, the Richmond girls looked the prettier; so I con cluded it was a long absence from them that gave the charm. Next day I took a ramble to the outskirts of the town, and, at the foot of the hill back of the State-House, saw a little rough hovel, about eight by twelve feet, and just high enough for a man to stand upright in, built of the scat tered rocks lying around, and in an unfinished state. It was covered with boards laid with one end on a ridge-pole, the other projecting over the eaves, and held down by a weight-pole. A bedstead made by four forks in the ground, and poles in them, with boards laid lengthwise for the bot tom, but no bed or mattress as yet on it. There was a shelf made by working boards into the chimney and side of the house ; and a stool with three legs. The floor was about half laid on loose sleepers, with boards of various thicknesses; the whole seemed as if made up of such materials as the builder could pick up here and there. My companion told me that this was the work of a young man from some of the THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 1 57 back counties, who had been engaged upon it for about a week; that he had come to Frankfort to study law, but had not the means of paying his board, and was building this house to live in, and intended to buy bread and cheese to live upon while he pursued his studies; that he had ob tained the use of Judge Bibbs's library, etc. I do not know when I was so interested for any one. This was G. M . Before he had quite finished his house, John Logan, a lawyer and representative from Shelby in the legislature, passing one day by his cottage, while he was at work upon it, got into conversation with him, and proposed to him to go and live with him, saying he needed a young man in his office, and would give him his board for such services in writing as he could render, to which M agreed. When I heard the tale, I was sorry he had accepted. It had destroyed the romance of the story. "Well," said I to my companion, "that young man will distinguish himself, and you will see it. No man can be so resolutely determined on studying law, as to encounter it under such difficulties, unless he feels conscious he has the materials within him for success." The result justified the prediction. After qualifying him self for the practice, he moved to Henderson, and ultimately to Hopkinsville, where he became very conspicuous at the bar; and, finally, married the daughter of the presiding judge and, had he not died, would, before now, have represented that district in Congress. There were at this time in Frankfort a remarkably talented set of young law students ; now, and a few years afterwards, the following, Harry J. Thornton, now Judge of the U. S. District Gourt, Mobile; Isaac Caldwell, now dead, but former ly State Judge in Mississippi ; S. S. N , since Judge of the Court of Appeals of Kentucky, and afterwards Chan cellor in Louisville, and author of the "Criminal Code;" Preston Loughboro, author ef the "Code of Practice;" Jo- 14 158 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. seph L. White, subsequently representative in Congress from Florida; Charles S. Bibb, Judge of the Circuit Court; Ma son Brown, Judge of the Circuit Court; Edward Bibb, Allison Bibb, Orlando Brown, James Forbes, Harry I. Hunter, Lucas Broadhead, Richard H. Lee, Christopher Greenup, Clayton Slaughter, and others, all of whom were above the ordinary standard of intelligence, and most of them men of fine talents. No other town of its size in America could compare with it, and few of any size. Among such, of course, my time never hung heavily. All were stu dious, and gave the mornings and a portion of the evenings to reading; but, generally, towards sunset they would as semble, those who were sociably inclined, at the office of some one, and there chat over the news of the day. Several played chess; one of the girls, H. N , played an excellent game, and she and myself often spent the evening in that way. I was passionately fond of the game. I had occasion to note in the progress of time the truth of a position hereinbefore assumed, that the effect which a mercantile education has in disciplining and methodizing the mind tends much to its efficiency and power. Of all the young men, aforenamed, only one had been raised in a count ing-house, and he was considered decidedly the most talented of the whole group. Judge Bouldin owed his reputation to the same cause; and Henry Clay was raised in the Chancery Court Office in Richmond, where a similar discipline was obtained, and to this clerical training is due a great portion of the efficiency of his mind. The strength was there to make him a distin guished man, let him have been raised as he might; but to that power of throwing his arguments like a rifle-shot, which is the result of clerical training, in contradistinction to the seatter-gun mode of other plans, I venture to say is due that vast pre-eminence which Mr. Clay attained. It is not that this clerical education naturally expands the mind. If the THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 159 clerk remains a clerk, it may injure it by confining it to one subject; but, when he goes to other pursuits, he carries the clerical method with him, and thus it not only pervades his whole business, but his logic also. CHAPTER XXXI. A SPECULATION — ANOTHER — TRIP TO RICHMOND — AMUSING SCENES THERE. I NOW prepared to go into Virginia to have my annual settlement, previous to which I had to make another trip to the Yellow Banks. Before starting, a young Virginian came to me and proposed selling me twelve thousand acres of land in Boone County for fifteen hundred dollars. I asked to look at his grant. I found from its age that it ought to hold a good deal of land, even if covered by other claims; and, if it held three hundred acres, it would pay what he asked for it. It may be well to state that the land-claims in Kentucky so conflicted with each other that a man was never sure that he was safe, and this young man, after going on his land, had determined to give it up in disgust and go home. I answered him that I was then bound on a trip below, should be gone two weeks, that I had not time then to consider the matter, but that I was well satisfied he offered it for much less than it was worth, and advised him to go upon the land and satisfy himself, and when I re turned I thought, if he had not previously sold, I would buy of him. On my return, I found him in Frankfort, where he had been since my departure, having concluded he could not do better than to sell to me. I had not fifteen hundred dol lars to spare, but went to Achilles Snead, Clerk of the 160 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. Court of Appeals, and proposed to him to take half. He did so, and we took a conveyance. Some time afterwards General Gaines, who lived in the neighborhood of this land, gave us three thousand dollars for our purchase. Here was a handsome sum made with very little trouble, although, if we had held on to it a few years longer, we should have made ten times as much. I now proceeded to Virginia through Chillicothe, where I stayed all night. Here I saw a lawyer whose acquaintance I had some time previously made in Frankfort. He told me, as I was going to Richmond, he would be glad if I would examine a military claim which he had, and the adjudica- tion.of which belonged to the Virginia Council ; the claim being for land within the Virginia Military District in Ohio. He brought me the papers, very voluminous, and that night I examined them. Next morning he called, and asked what I thought of them. I answered, I thought the claim was good. " Well," he said, " if you can obtain warrants under it, I will allow you five hundred acres. But I must tell you it has been already twice presented and rejected." " Oh !" I remarked, " that alters the case. I will try, however, what I can do." On arriving at Richmond, I wrote out a history of the case in the plainest and simplest form, referring by number to vouchers to sustain all the evidence I adduced in its favor, fatiguing the mind as little as possible to comprehend the subject, and wound up by saying, the evidence to my mind in favor of the claim was conclusive, and I could not see where it was deficient. But, if defective, I would be glad to know where. This letter, with the accompanying documents, I left with T. G , attorney-at-law, and requested him to present them while I went to Norfolk to see my mother. In about a week, he wrote me the claim was allowed, and the warrants would be ready for me on my return. After I had seen my relatives in Norfolk, and en- THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 161 joyed myself very much among the girls, I now proceeded in search of Judge B ¦, to settle up with him, which cost me a vast deal of trouble, having to follow him from court to court; but finally concluded it, and gave him a check for the balance. He asked me how I was getting on. I gave him some detailed account. He seemed as much gratified as if he had been my father, and said, " Was that not better than remaining here like some of my former com panions, getting on in a slow, jog-trot way?" I now re turned to Richmond, and obtained my military land-war rants. Here I remained some time awaiting business, and enjoying myself among the girls, having always a great relish for their society. T and myself were pretty constant companions, and had pretty much the range of the city. Among other acquaintances, I made one who be came my favorite, a beautiful girl of about sixteen, tall, some what embonpoint, though magnificently shaped, a laughing, joyous creature, with a heart full of love; and I had pro bably been her lover, had I supposed she would go to Ken tucky with me ; but at that time I would as soon have thought of asking a girl to go with me to Kamtschatka as to Ken tucky, so wild was it considered. Besides which, I had just begun to make money, and my continuing to do so depended on my remaining without the trammels of a family. So my prudential philosophy was an overmatch for Cupid. But the partialities formed in this way were a source of great pleasure in my subsequent correspondence, interchanges of messages, &c. This, was Miss F. L . But the most amusing, as well as provoking associate I had was an old maiden aunt of two beautiful girls, whom G and myself visited very often. When we would call for the young ladies, she would uniformly present herself; and when they would be very joyful and chatty, she would turn to them and say, " Young folks should be seen, and not heard." It would somehow generally happen that she 14* 162 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. would get a seat next to me, and destroy all my enjoyment for the evening. One evening, in order to get rid of her, I proposed to the young ladies a walk. The old aunt was the first to assent to it, and soon locked arms with me. I could see that G and the girls were tickled to bursting. I was so mad that I could hardly be polite. She observed: " 0, Mr. T., why are you so gloomy on this beautiful night, when it is so charming to look at the bright moon and talk of love?" It cost me all my self-command to avoid roaring out into a rude laugh., I had in my bosom a moss rose, the first of the season, which Miss L had given me, saying she had been permitted, as a special favor by Miss Gibbon, to pluck it from her father's hothouse, "and," said she, " you must prize it accordingly." I replied, I should do so, most undoubtedly, but more on account of the giver than the circumstances. Seeing this, this old lady asked me for it; but I rather unceremoniously refused it. On returning home with them, when about to take leave at the door, she plucked it from my bosom, and ran into the house. I had no alternative but to retire without it. On our way home, G congratulated me on the delightful time I had had with the old aunt, laughing immoderately at the manner in which I had been taken in. " Yes," said I, " but the cream of the joke you have not yet got;" and related to him the remarks of the old lady about love and the moon. He was diverted almost into convulsions. " But," said he, " what are you going to do about the moss rose?" "I don't know," I replied. " I think I will go to-morrow, and get one of the young ladies to steal it for me." Accordingly, I went round early, rang, and when the servant came, sent for one of the young ladies to come to the door; told her the story of the rose without mentioning names, and asked her to go up quietly to her aunt's room and steal it for me. "Oh," said she, "aunt would never forgive me. She prizes it very highly as coming from you; and let me tell you, you are a THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 163 great favorite with her; she says there is not such another young man in Richmond; that you are of the old school stock; you appreciate good sense and dignity, instead of the nonsensical frivolity of the day. There, said she, is Mr. G , with his taste for frivolous girls, like sister and my self, while your mind is of a higher caste, and you prefer her society. Oh, I tell you," said the niece, " I know how you value her good opinion. I know it is as dear almost to you as your life; and let me tell you, too, that I think that things may work to your wishes in time. You have evi dently brought her mind into a state of perplexity, and by proper assiduity you have every chance for success." " Look here, you little vixen," said I, " will you get me the rose ?" "What! and spoil all your prospects? Oh, never!" and she enjoyed my vexation exceedingly. All my efforts were fruitless. I had to return without it; but on my return I found G absent. He had been to see Miss L , and told her the whole story, and the great perplexity I was in, and that he would bring me round in the evening, and she must ask me for the rose, and pretend that she had seen it in Miss 's bosom. When he entered, he remarked he had been down to the coffee-house, but there was no news. I related to him my fruitless effort to recover the moss rose, and the ironical compliments I had received from Miss at his expense, which seemed to tickle him very much. In the evening, he proposed we should walk round to Mr. P.'s to see Miss L ¦, and we went. She was alone, and wel comed us courteously. I took my seat beside her. G walked up to the centre-table, looked over the books, and then joined us. "Well, Mr. G ," said Miss L , "I hear that Mr. T has been caught' at last." "By whom ?" said I. " Ah, you pretend ignorance, do you ?" " Why, my rule is always to. put my accuser to the proof." She, turning to G ,.said, " Tell me, Mr. G , is it not so ?" 164 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. while he had a certain lady under his arm last evening, and heard a good deal about love and the moon." I could not help laughing at the fitness of the reply, and to see how well all the circumstances conspired to put the joke upon me. " Besides," said G , " I understand the lady said there was no comparison between T and myself; that he is a man of infinitely the finest taste, etc. ; and that the lady's niece is of opinion that T stands a fair chance of suc cess." "I congratulate you, Mr. T ," said Miss L . "Thank you, madam; your congratulations are always ap preciated; but I hope you will not soon have occasion to congratulate me on such an event." "Apropos," rather softly, she said, but loud enough for G to hear, "I presume you have no further value for the rose I gave you yesterday. Will you permit me to ask its return ?" " Do you regret having given it?" I asked. " No," she replied; " but as it is not appreciated, I would rather have it back." "Very well," I rejoined, "you shall have it to-morrow." " Then you have it not now? No; I see you have it not. Now this begins to make the evidence thicken. Tell me, Mr. G , have they a hothouse at Mr. 's?" "I do not know," said G . " Well," said Miss L , "I was walking on the Capitol Square this morning, and there I met Miss the elder, with a moss rose in her bosom. I re marked to a lady with me, there is the second moss rose which I have seen this season. But since the reports which I have heard about Mr. T. and Miss , I am inclined to believe that this is the identical rose which I gave to Mr. T — — , which he has very kindly transferred." G— — was convulsed, and I extremely perplexed. " Now, honor bright, Mr. T ; tell me, was this not the rose I gave you?" " Honor bright, T ¦," said G , " honor bright." " Honor shall be bright," I answered. " It would be use less, if I were inclined to deny it, with such a witness against me as G ; but I appeal to him to say if he did not hear THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 165 the lady ask me for the rose, which I refused, and she snatched it from my bosom, and ran off with it." " Why, T ," said G , " in ordinary cases you might call on me, especially in love-matters, and I would put conscience aside, and be a witness for you ; but, were I to accommodate you in this case, the circumstances go so strongly against you that my testimony not only would be of no use, but would discredit me if you wished to use me in any other case. I think, therefore, you must excuse me this time, and I will serve you on some occasion where, if I should deviate a little to serve a friend, the circumstances would not so clearly convict me as in this case." " Well," I replied, " I see how it is; G is determined to have me convicted, and so is my fair judge. I can only say that the case is as I stated it ; but if you will have it otherwise, be it so." Af ter a good deal of badinage and playfulness, we started to depart, when Miss L told me, as she was satisfied with the enjoyment she had ha,d at my expense, she would relieve me by telling me that Mr. G had been round in the morning and acquainted her with all the circumstances, and prepared her for the interview. Some time after this, G and myself were one eve ning on a visit at , one of the most magnificent residences about Richmond. Miss was a beautiful and bewitching girl, but rather fond of flirtation. G had a special fancy for such, for he preferred buzzing round, to lighting, and giving the, girls a fair chance at him. This Miss was engaged to be married, but was anxious to have an opportunity to enlist G as one of her beaux, and tried to entrap him ; but he was too old a stager for that. As we retired, she came to the door with us; we took leave of her, and were retiring, when G pretended to recollect some thing, for which he returned, while I walked on. On getting to the outer gate, I turned to see what had become of him ; and there he was upon the steps, havipsr both of Miss 's 166 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. hands in his, making some earnest speech, and all of a sudden dropped them, seemed to have changed his tone for some cause, and after a while bid her adieu and came on. "Well," said I, "Tom, you are the rarest fellow to hold on, and keep talking 'after you've done,' like some politi cians in making a speech, that I ever saw." He laughed, and continued at intervals to laugh, as we went home, for some cause not connected with our conversation, until I in sisted on knowing the cause. " Ah ! my good fellow," said ho, " if you knew, you would be amply revenged on me for the moss rose affair." I insisted on knowing, until he agreed he would tell me, if I would not name it to any one (the limitations have run against the injunction now). "Agreed !" said I. "Well," he remarked, "you know I have been always very fond of Miss , and as I knew she was en gaged to be married, I concluded I could venture, without danger, to indulge in some gallant remarks, which might have entangled me under other circumstances. But I said nothing to justify a response as to a lover. She tried hard to get me to do it, but all in vain. Finding I was a hope less case, and that, perhaps, she would never have a better opportunity, she took both my hands, and, looking me ear nestly in the face, with great compassion, said, ' Mr. Q , I love you as a brother, but you must expect nothing more.' 'Why, Miss ,' I replied, 'even this is more than I had hoped for !' " And here, while telling me, he seemed di verted beyond measure. "Ah," said I, "that is your come- off, is it ! Fairly kicked, and this is your way to get out of the scrape ? Ah, Tom ! it won't do. Fairly hit, my good fellow; acknowledge the corn." I spent several weeks very happily; walking occasionally of an evening on the Capitol Square, and up the James River Canal with our favorites. Two more beautiful walks are not to be found in any town in America. And with the falls of James River in full view from each— rolling, foam- THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 167 ing, and dashing among the rocks. The only drawback to the delight of the scene was that so much fine water-power was wasted. Here seemed ample water-power for five hun dred mills — a very small portion of which was consumed. And here, coming down the canal, is the coal and pig iron in any quantities. There are said to be seventy-two feet fall from the basin to the river. This is the height from where the water comes into the canal to where it goes out. Allowing eighteen feet fall to a mile, this would allow of using the water four times over, and here it is just where it is wanted. The James River Canal is eighty-five feet wide, and might be made a source of great profit, merely to furnish water-power; and the power, if properly used, ought to make Richmond one of the largest manufacturing towns in America. I now began to prepare for my departure to Kentucky, leaving with no little regret my acquaintances ; but none with more than the lovely F. L . Meeting with one of the councilmen, with whom I was intimately acquainted, I asked him how it happened that such a claim as the one I had presented to the council could have been rejected twice. He answered that many attempts had been made to obtain warrants fraudulently, and their suspicions were always awake when a very large bundle of evidence was produced, and, unless we know the applicant, we always lean against him. The evidence furnished, strictly considered, was not authenticated in due form, and, having some doubts in re gard to the claim anyhow, thought it safest to reject it; "especially," said he, "as it was a very troublesome task to wade through all the testimony. But when we received your letter, we saw that you had done this for us, and condensed all the proof into a very small compass, referring to the ex hibits on which you relied by number. Your exposition seemed fair and candid; we all knew you, and were satisfied 168 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. you would have nothing to do with a fraudulent claim ; so we passed it." Before leaving Richmond, I made an arrangement with T. G to present such similar claims as I should send him ; and, also, in regard to obtaining other land business for me, and departed. On arriving at Chillicotho, and presenting the warrants to L. S , he expressed a good deal of agree able surprise, gave me a receipt for my five hundred acre- warrant to be located for me; " and now," said he, "I have twenty thousand acres of similar claims, of which I am to get one-half for obtaining the warrants. If you will return, I will divide my commission equally with you upon all that you can have allowed." I told him I could not return, but would make the arrangement with a friend, who would do the business as well as I could, and gave him a letter to T. G . Out of this arrangement we ultimately made eight thousand acres of military land. I now proceeded on to Frankfort, where my acquaintances seemed glad to see me. Here I found numerous letters on business, so increasing my stock, that I saw I could not give it the necessary attention, and wrote to A. T. B — , at Frede ricksburg, to come out, he having expressed such a wish while I was with him. I now proceeded to advertise an other large land sale at the Yellow Banks. On looking over my year's work, I found that, of collected and uncollected commissions, fees, and salaries, I had during the year booked between five and six thousand dollars. , This was a consider able upward movement, and the next year promised to be still better. THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 169 CHAPTER XXXII. RETURN TO KENTUCKY — STORY OF B. T- I went to the Yellow Banks to take some testimony in the suits against Mason ; the witnesses had been there in 1780, and related many curious events. One, Jacob Vana- der, was captured by the Indians, and taken a long way back into Indiana, where he finally made his escape and returned home. B. T , another, mentioned a singular event: In one of the adjoining counties, I now forget which, there was a suit between the occupant of a tract of land, and a non resident claimant. The occupant had cleared a large field, and built him a pretty good house; all were living in comfortand presumed safety, when this non-resident claim was set up, which was a large one, and covered this occupant, whose grant, however, was the oldest, but he could not esta blish his survey. T , being one of the original chain- carriers, was summoned as a witness, and came only on the day that the cage was on trial ; the tract of land lay about a mile from the court-house. The land around was settled, and to all appearance all the corner trees were cut down. It was an isolated survey, calling for no other, and no other calling for it. No corner trees being found, and nothing else to fix the position of the claim, the jury must give the land to the non-resident claimant according to all expecta tion. T was asked what he could say on the subject. He replied that the country was so changed that he hardly recognized it, but that he recollected the beginning corner was made in the forks of a little creek. There was such a 15 170 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. creek adjoining the occupant's farm, and some timber in the forks which had not been cut down, owing to its out-of-the- way position. But these trees had been minutely examined, and no marks found. He was asked if he recollected any circumstance in connection with making the corner; he answered, " that while the surveyor was preparing his note book, he sat at the root of the corner tree, and with his knife amused himself in cutting-notches into the root : that before they had started, after marking the tree, the surveyor having taken his object to a hill at some distance — a dead tree — they heard the crack of a rifle some distance off in an opposite direction. They knew the rifle was shot by Indians, and the surveyor said, ' Come, boys, we must get out of this.' Every man picked up what he had, to run ; and one of the chain-men corked a bottle of whiskey which he had, and threw it into a small hollow about as high as he could reach in the tree, and they moved off pretty rapidly, and found themselves presently under the object tree, when the sur veyor said : ' Come, boys, I- don't think the red-skins will follow us — let us go on with the survey. I will allow,' said he, ' one hundred poles for the distance from here to the corner — mark light, stick your sticks without speaking, and keep a sharp look-out.' So on they went around to the fourth corner, where they stopped, leaving the fourth an open line, which was filled up by protraction ; and that is the reason no marked trees can be found." Counsel for Plaintiff- — "But you say the corner tree was marked?" "Yes, sir," T replied. Counsel. — "I understand that the trees claimed are not marked." The court adjourned for dinner, a two hours' recess, and defendants with their coun sel, T and others, went to the place to examine it. T said " it seemed to him that was the place." But on examining the trees they found no marks. Looking up, however, he discovered in one of them a hollow, about the height of the one into which the bottle had been thrown. THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 171 T immediately sprung up to it, looked in, and there saw the bottle. A noose was fixed to a stick, and the bottle drawn out, having all the appearance of having been there a long time, but the whiskey had leaked out. All present were satisfied with the proof. They returned to the court house, and when the court sat, named the facts. The ad verse counsel asked if they had any corroborating circum stances ? Was the tree marked for a corner tree ? " No." " Very well," said the counsel, " witness said the corner tree was marked; this, therefore, cannot be the corner." And continuing, said he, " I have practised law a long time — I have seen many tricks played where the object at stake was a large one ; but, in all my practice, I have never seen so shallow a trick attempted as this. No corner trees — because there were none ; and a poor devil of a witness is brought here to manufacture testimony, who has not tact enough to preserve his consistency, but goes and puts a bottle in a hol low,., says such a bottle was there filled with whiskey, but he had not even sense enough to fill the bottle with whiskey ; or, probably after being filled by his employers, could not forego the temptation to drink it ; carries a number to see him find it, climbs up, and says here it is ; ha ! ha ! ha ! Well, sir, if our land-titles are to be held by such a frail tenure as this, he who can, with the least scruple, suborn a witness, will be the most successful. It is utterly ridiculous, and an insult to the understandings of the jury. They all know that there is no more faithful record of a corner mark than the tree itself; it not only preserves the mark, but nature keeps a record of its age by the annulations in rings which have grown over it since it was made, leaving the scar out side. This the witness well knows ; this his employers well know ; and T consider this a clear case of fraud, and subor nation of perjury." The case was clearly against T ; those who had previously sympathized with defendants now viewed them with suspicion, and all avoided T as they 172 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. would contamination. He says, although he knew he was innocent, the circumstances seemed so strong against him, that he almost felt guilty ; said he, " I believe I would have confessed my guilt, if I had thought by so doing I could have obtained forgiveness, all my friends seemed to leave me." Presently an old hunter came up to me, and asked T " what kind of a tree was that corner tree 1" Answtr. — " A beech." " Well," said he, " do you not know that the bark of a beech will sometimes overgrow the marks on it?" " No," said T ¦, " I have never remarked it." " Well," said the huntsman, " I have known it to do so. Now tell me in truth, and no quibbling, are you sure you did not put that bottle in there ?" " So help me God I did not !" said T . " Do you believe that bottle was put there- forty years ago, and has been there untouched ever since ?" " I believe," said T— — , " it is the same which was put there forty years ago. As to its being untouched, I cannot say; it was then full of whiskey — now it is empty ; I do not know how to account for this, I acknowledge, if it has been un touched." " Well," said the hunter, " you are in a narrow place, and circumstances seem against you ; still, I feel as if you were innocent." " As Jesus is my Saviour," replied T , " I am ]" " And if you are," replied the hunter, "this lawyer has committed a great outrage on you by ac cusing you of perjury. If you knew you were innocent, why did you not knock him down ?" "Oh !" said T , " I felt so bad, I did not know what to do." " Ah, bad," replied the hunter; "this looks bad; and yet," as if solilo quizing with himself, said the hunter, "it seems to me that this man is innocent." " 0 !" said T , " do believe me, I am innocent; as God is judge, I am innocent." All this time plaintiff's lawyer was going on in the most rampant style against the conspiracy which had been so evidently de veloped, and hoping when he was done with the case that THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 173 the prosecuting attorney would feel it his duty to take hold of the conspirators. " My old friend," said the hunter to T , " I am an old surveyor ; I. hate to hear you abused so, and these old people on the land who are reputed to be honest. It is monstrous, if there has been no foul play. Call your friends' lawyer here !" T touched him on the elbow, and he came outside of the bar. Said the hunter to him, "I have been talking to your witness, and I believe he is inuocent, and, I think, there may be a way to prove it." " How ?" asked the lawyer, with eagerness. "Why," replied the hunter, "I have been a surveyor, and if what he says is true, and I can find any old survey in the neighborhood of about the same age, so that I can set my compass on the line, and get the variation, I can, then, set it from this cor ner claimed as the beginning, and run the course to where T said the line commences, and being on that I can find the other corners." Lawyer. — "There is not time for that now.' However, I will try the court." Stepping into the bar, he asked the opposite counsel to allow hinj to make a suggestion. Here was a grave charge of perjury; if well founded, the guilty man could not be too severely punished ; if innocent, even his opponent could not wish him to lie un der the imputation of guilt. A plan had been suggested for determining this question, and he wished to ask an adjourn ment of this case, until the day after to-morrow, to give time to determine it, and stated what the hunter had said. The court remarked that it was the misfortune of the lawyer's client if he had gone into the case unprepared; but that the testimony had been closed, and that the admission of any more now was not allowable. " I knew this," said the lawyer to the hunter ; " but the suggestion will have a good effect with the jury. Now, go as quick as you can; take out the county surveyor; he can find you such a survey as you want ; try your compass for 15* 174 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. the variation ; then run your line, and, if you find any marks, have them reported to me, while you continue the survey. I will not begin my speech this evening, but will ask indulg ence until to-morrow ; in the mean time, you be wide awake and move ahead." " And," said T — , " so we did. We found such a survey, got the variation that night, and next morning at daylight started from my corner on the course of my line, and at one hundred and .eighteen poles fell upon marked trees. We never stopped for breakfast, but sent in for some bread and meat. The marks continued, until we reached the corner of a field, which had been cleared where the corner was, and it had been destroyed ; but we got the next line, and went on to where the next should have been, and there it was the same case, and so with the fourth; but, from the fourth there was no line to the beginning. Squatters had evidently destroyed those corners intentionally." But the facts, as shown, proved that T ¦ was innocent. This had been all accomplished before court went into session. " Now," said the old hunter, " bring me an axe, and I will try another experiment, which I was afraid to propose at first, lest your hatchet, in making the mark, had not gone through the bark of the tree, and, if not, we should find no marks inside; and, then, the absence of them, and all the other circumstances against you, would have been very strong. But now, if we do not find them, I think you stand cleared," "Stop," said T , "let us try the root, for I perfectly well recollect cutting into the wood there ! So the axe was ap plied to one root, which was cut up and split open ; but no marks; another — here the marks appeared in the shape of a scar, but not very distinctly. In cutting the notches, I had taken out the wood, and the growth over it left so little mark that, had we not been hunting for it, we should not have noticed it. But it was evident that the annulatious of the wood were here interrupted, and the company gave it as their opinion that it was the mark of a cut." " Well, my THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 175 old boy," said the hunter, "we will now find something which will tell, and no mistake, if it is here at all." So he proceeded to block out a part of the tree about three feet long, and eight inches deep. This he split open, but as yet no scar; another split, none; a third, here half-a-dozen voices cried, "There it is!" and there it was; three chops as distinct as if made yesterday; and, on counting the an nulatious, which had grown over and covered them, they placed back the date of the chops, to correspond exactly with T — —'s testimony." "Now," said the old hunter, "we have that dog of a lawyer; let us hasten to the court-house." They did so, carrying the block with the notches in it. As they entered, the old hunter held up the block with the notches towards the court. They were so distinct that they could be seen across the house. The jury saw them. Defendant's lawyer was speaking; complainant's lawyer rose, when he heard the hubbub, and, looking round, saw the block, re marked to the court that the testimony having been closed, he moved the court that it order away all extraneous matter, and order that the argument of his opponent be confined to the testimony as given on the trial, The court accordingly so ordered. "Well," said defendant's counsel, "I am ordered, gen tlemen of the jury, to confine my argument to the testimony given on the trial. That testimony was by one of the chain- men, who made the survey, that, at the corner, a bottle was put into a hollow of the corner tree; this tree was found corresponding to the position which the chain-man said it oc cupied, and, on being examined, the bottle was found in the tree. The testimony was as clear and conclusive as it was possible to be, and if you believed our witness, you could not hesitate as to your verdict. And who is this witness ? A venerable old man, gray with age, and who, probably, never had his word disputed or his feelings hurt before, nor until it became necessary to fix the charge of perjury upon 176 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. him by my opponent, in order to enable his non-resident client to put my client and his worthy family out of doors. And upon what grounds is this charge of perjury brought? Upon the ground that there were no marks upon the tree. I am credibly informed, gentlemen, that it does sometimes happen that beech outgrows its marks, though generally it is otherwise. Now, my client has prepared his case badly, I admit; for, although no lines or corners could be found, he ought to have gotten a surveyor to ascertain the variation of the compass, and have started from his claim's begin ning, and run the courses called for in his deed; he might have run some distance, without finding a marked tree, but he might have found it at the distance of the first object tree, as stated by our witness; or even a little further, say 118 poles by way of being liberal. He might then have gone on from corner to corner, finding the corners all gone, but the lines distinctly marked between them; and had he done so, and those lines been found, it would have been the strongest circumstantial evidence in corroboration of our witness's testimony. But if this had not sufficed, he might have taken witnesses to the corner tree, have taken out a block, and there he doubtless would have found the old marks, as plainly showing as you saw them on that block just now. But he did not, and although our witness, in his distress of mind at being accused of perjury, might proceed to have it done, to vindicate his own character, yet the rigid rules of the law are resorted to exclude his evidence so pro duced. But, thank God, his testimony is clear as to the corner, and you must give your verdict in our favor, unless you disbelieve him. Now, look at him, gentlemen; see his gray hairs, and that benevolent countenance; do you see anything there of the perjured villain, which my opponent would make you believe he is? He is, to be sure, poor, and, perhaps, on that account, has no right to complain of being abused. It seems that some lawyers consider this is THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 177 the poor man's lot, when brought to the witness-stand. If you dare to give such evidence as is in your possession, and as is due to save your neighbor's property, whatever may be your honest reputation at home, however you may be beloved by those who know you, you are liable to be branded with perjury, and charged with all sorts of crime. I have, gen tlemen, never deemed it necessary to ruin an innocent man's reputation in order to gain a cause for my client, and, I trust, I never shall. My client's witness is as credible a witness as any in this house ; the court has excluded the legal evidence of it, but every one in this house knows it to be so. If you believe him, you are bound to^nd for us." And he sat down. His opponent had the closing of tho argument, but said he had no reply to make, and the jury gave a verdict for defendant, without leaving the jury-box. CHAPTER XXXIII. THE IMPROPRIETY OF ABUSING WITNESSES — A BAD POLICY IN LAWYERS. I HAVE always viewed the liberties taken by lawyers with witnesses, abusing them without grounds, as an outrage, and have wished the witnesses, out of court, would give them a sound thrashing for it. It is extremely injudicious in the lawyer. It generally excites the compassion of the jury, and in a majority of cases results to the injury of the lawyer who is guilty of it. I knew a case which occurred at Brandenburgh, where a Mr. T , a lawyer, lost his life by needless abuse of his opponents. They took him from the court-house, immediately on the adjournment of the court, and so beat him that he died. I am surprised that lawyers look for anything else, and that they escape so often 178 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. is wonderful. In Kentucky, a jury could hardly be found who would punish a man for vindicating himself when so outraged, and the courts are very culpable for allowing it. I would advise all young lawyers to avoid it. It not only excites the prejudices of the jury, but of the public against them, and does their cause infinite injury; for, when a jury man's prejudices are excited, argument is needless. A law yer should endeavor to win the good feelings of the jury and of the public, on all occasions. Kindness is a shrub which sprouts and propagates itself very rapidly wherever sown; or, like bread cast upon the waters, it returns after many days; and hatred is not less fruitful, nor less certain to be returned with compound interest. A man who is habitually unkind can succeed well at nothing. As a lawyer, he may succeed if his talents are pre-eminent; but I venture to say, where he makes one dollar he would make-two if he were ha bitually kind and benevolent. Everybody wants to help those who are kind and pleasant in their manners. They will be re commended for business, while the man of unsocial habits and unkind feelings will have no friends, and will only obtain such business as is commanded by his pre-eminent talents. He is a very unwise man who puts the world at defiance. There are few of us who are not dependent on the good opinion of the world for success, and policy would dictate a kind course, if our natural inclinations did not. But he must have savage feel ings, indeed, who can be unaffected by the evidence of being beloved by the community in which he lives, or of being shunned and hated by them. There is to the benevolent mind a happiness in doing a favor to another which an unfeeling man knows nothing of. It is a luxury which he cannot comprehend. We hear much of the unfeelingness of the world, and that money is a man's only friend. It would be useless to deny tne power of money. It will cover up many faults; but not all. I know a very rich man who is the abomination of all who know him, except his immediate de- THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 179 • pendents. They sustain him from the employment he gives them, or from the obligations they are under to him. He is an intelligent and well-informed man ; but arrogant, and dis courteous to such an extent that all well-bred gentlemen shun his society. If any do not, it is either from an ex treme charity and benevolence of disposition, which induces them to put up with any conduct sooner than differ with a neighbor, or else they are willing to keep the door open for any pecuniary favor which they may have occasion to ask of him. If he differs with you in conversation, he cannot politely state his difference, and in so doing retain your friendship; but replies to you like a blackguard : " Not a bit of it ; not a bit of it." Any one can see by his language that he asso ciates with such as will bear any language from him, and he knows none better. So envious is he that he can hear with no patience any one spoken of with credit/ His general an swer is, when he hears any one so spoken of, " pshaw — aw — aw !" To his agents he is harsh and unkind, seldom speaking to them except in a very rude manner, such as no well-bred gentleman can hear without pain. He is a bully in his general-manners, but a very great coward at heart, as such men generally are. CHAPTER XXXIV. MY APPOINTMENT BY THE STATE OF VIRGINIA AS MILITARY AGENT. About this time, I heard of the death of John Herring, military agent for the State of Virginia, and wrote in to have my name presented as a candidate. Virginia originally had, while Kentucky was yet a part of her domain, appro- 180 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. • priated all the country west of the Tennessee River to pay her officers and soldiers for services during the revolutionary war, and pledged that country to them for that purpose. A great many entries had been made here of those military claims, but a great many of the warrants were unlocated, when, by a treaty with the Choctaw and Cherokee Indians, Virginia guaranteed them the peaceable possession of this country, which prevented the location and survey of military warrants within the said boundary. But, in 1818, by an other treaty with those Indians, made by General Jackson and Governor Shelby, they surrendered the country to the United States, and it now fell to Kentucky. Virginia sent out Watkins Leigh to claim the land for the officers and soldiers aforenamed, and he addressed the legislature of Kentucky on the subject, but without success. Herring was then a member of the Virginia legislature, and was appointed resident agent in Kentucky to attend to the business. At his death the office became vacant, and there were a number of applicants for it, as it was worth $2300 per annum, including $700 outfit. I was the successful applicant, however, and received the commission. As I was not required to relinquish my other business, this was a great addition to my income ; and, be sides, during this year I received another salary of $400, and another of $50. From May, Barrister, & Co., $500, and about $600 for expenses, including those of my horse, office, &c, which made a total of $3850 of salaries. Besides this, out of auction sales of lands, I made about $2000 of commis sions, and perquisites for miscellaneous business to nearly an equal amount, making a total of $7000 or $8000. This, I thought, was getting along pretty well. THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 181 CHAPTER XXXV. THE KENTUCKY LAND-LAWS — ITS DIFFICULTIES — AN ADVENTURE. Now T. G. sent me an agency from P.'s estate of 32,400 acres of land in Breckenridge and Mead counties, with a commission of twenty-five per cent. The amount of commis sion was in consideration of the claims being considered hopeless. I went upon the ground to examine into it, and found it settled by a desperate set of adverse claimants. As before remarked, the plan adopted by Virginia for selling those lands caused them to be shingled over with entries con flicting with each other. The Indians were in possession of the country, and it was necessary to make surveys at the hazard of life, so that purchasers of treasury-warrants were allowed to enter, in a book, the land which they intended to survey ; and, provided it was so distinctly described that " a subse quent locater could take up the adjacent residuum," this entry would hold the land until it could be surveyed and patented, otherwise the entry was of no avail ; and, to deter mine this question, caused the establishment of principles which made the Kentucky land-law the most complicated conceivable.- The United States land-system could not be adopted, owing to the danger of the Indians ; and the Legisla ture of Kentucky, at various times, endeavored to remedy the difficulty, but found themselves entangled by the compact entered into with Virginia, by which it was provided that the land-titles should be adjudicated by the laws then (at the time of making the compact) existing in Virginia. In order to get clear of this difficulty, Henry Clay and George 16 182 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. M. Bibb were appointed commissioners from Kentucky to apply to the Legislature of Virginia to relinquish this stipu lation ; but they were unsuccessful. It always appeared to me that, where sales and transfers of land had been based upon this stipulation, it became a vested right in the claimant under the Virginia grant, and that Virginia had no right to relinquish it. But here would arise a curious question for legal philosophers. Can two States make such stipulations that by joint consent they cannot annul, however willing they may be to do so, and however injurious the same may be to the country at large ? Suppose, for instance, that, by a law of Virginia, previous to the separation, it had been provided that limitations should never run in regard to land- titles. Kentucky provides that an undisturbed possession of seven years should bar all claims. A and B have two lawsuits, one by A, the Virginia claimant, against B, claim ant under Kentucky, who has been in undisputed posses sion for thirty years. But he cannot plead the limitations, and loses his land. Another by B against A, who has been in possession eight years only under a Kentucky patent; but he holds by the seven years' limitations. Could this state of things last ? I took a wandering trip all through this survey of 32,400 acres, which was ten miles long and five broad, and the most of it settled upon ; some very extensive plantations. Here was a harvest of difficulty, " and no mistake." But I was prepared to brave it. I stopped on the road just outside of the survey, at a Mr. S.'s, to get my dinner, and remarked that they seemed to have a good country about there. " Yes," said he, " if these non-residents would let us alone ; but we are annoyed to death with foreign claims. Here now is a whole neighborhood who have purchased under Dr. B., and who have thought themselves secure, and here comes a man by the name of T., claiming the land for P.'s heirs, and I suppose the whole neighborhood is to be broken up." I THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 183 confess I felt like giving up the business. It did seem too bad. I did not then let him know I was the man. I remarked it was an unfortunate state of things, but that, if they lost their land, they would have their recourse on B. " Ah !" said he, " that is but little satisfaction after a man has fixed his .home in a way that he expects to live at for life." " Well," said I, " suppose you were in P.'s place, what would you do ? give up the land to which you thought you had the best title ?" " I do not know," he replied; "I suppose I would try and get it, but it is a hard case." " So it is," I rejoined, " and both parties ought so to view it, and endeavor to make an equitable arrangement to lighten the difficulty as much as possible. T. ought to take a moderate price for the land, and give good time to pay it in, and the settler ought to view his condition as he would, if, by acci dent, he had put on another man's coat which he had to take off and give up." " Well," said S., putting a chew of tobacco into his mouth, and chunking the fire, " I would take a dif ferent plan ; these foreigners should not come among us claiming our- lands." "But," said I, "if they believe the land to be theirs, they would come." " Very well," he re plied; " I reckon they would not come but once." " What, would you kill them ?" " Not exactly ; but I have ventured to advise some of my neighbors on the subject; and, when this T. comes here, he will be apt to find a rough time of it." There was no one in the house but us two, and, being well armed, I felt in no danger when put on my guard as I now was ; and, acting on the idea that danger is greatest when most feared, I concluded my safest plan was to leave an im pression that I could not be seared. " My friend," I remarked, " that is a bad plan. It is in violation of the laws of your country." ." May-be so," he replied; "I am not for that; but I would not lose my home, law or no law." " What would you do, then 1" " Why, by 184 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. way of a taste, I would first take him up here to the Bear Springs and give him a sound ducking, and try how that would set on his stomach ; and, if that did not satisfy him, when he came again we would try other physic." "You would never have to try a second dose." " You think that would answer for him, do you ?" " Or for those who tried it." " How so '!" " Why, I know the man, and if you design anything of this sort you had better make but one job of it." " You know the man, do you ? well, what sort of a fellow is he ?" " As civil a man as you ever saw ; but, if he were to hear of your making any threats against him, he would give you an opportunity of executing them as soon as his horse could bring him to your house." "That's my darling ; now, if you are a friend of his and see him, just tell him what I have said." " Very well, I am a friend of his, and you will not be long without a chance to execute your threat. He says he had rather, at any time, be shot than live in danger of it." " Stranger," said he, " pray what is your name ?" Assuming a composure, and putting on a smile very little in accordance with the apprehensions I felt, I answered, " R. T. at your service." The fellow looked puzzled and bewildered for a moment, and then said again : " And that is your name ?" " Yes, sir," I replied, still smiling. " Well, stranger," said he, "I don't know how it is. I am not afraid of you; and by G — d I am ready to do all that I said I would; but dam'me if I know how to begin a fuss with as good-humored a fellow as you seem to be; just give me the lead now, and I'll start the ball." I had kept my distance, and could lay my hand on my pistols in a second. " Oh no," I replied ; " I am not so anxious for the dance as that, and hope, when you take a little time to think, you will find we ¦ can both do as well without it." " Well, dang my buttons," said he, " come up here and take a drink." " I thank you," I replied; "I never drink." "Well, now, by Jove, you must THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 185 drink or fight." " Very well," I replied; "I had rather drink than fight, at any time." So we took a drink together. " Well, stranger, you don't consider there is any back-out in me, do you?" " Not a bit," I replied; " on the contrary, I see you are perplexed because I won't get mad." " And why the h — 11 don't you get mad?" "Because I see that your feelings are natural and reasonable, and I in your place would probably feel as you do. It would therefore be un reasonable for me to get mad. But at the same time that I intend to give you no provocation, I intend to do my duty as an agent, and never, while I have breath left in my body, to be scared from it." " Well, dang me, old fellow, if I didn't think I would do what I said, and I ain't afraid neither; but somehow I can't come it." " You can't come it now, of course, for I have drank with you in your own house." " Well, well, we'll be friends. I b'lieve I like you anyhow; but you run a mighty risk, I tell you you did." " Not so much as you think." "How so?" "What was the risk from?" "Why, I am a stronger man than you, and could easily overpower you." " K you could have gotten hold of me." " And why not?" " Well," I remarked, "I may, I presume, consider that we are now friends, and that all I say will be taken in friendship." " 0 yes; the toma hawk was buried when we drank together." " Well, you may have remarked that, until we drank together, I never let you get near enough to me to get hold of me, and I never intend you should." "How would you have prevented it?" Hav ing my hand on my pistol, in my belt under my coat, I sud denly drew it out, then the other, and showed that when I pulled the guard the point of a dirk on each was loosened, which sprung up and formed a bayonet to the pistol. " That's the how, is it? and a. pretty 'cute contrivance, too. Well, dam'me, I thought you looked mighty safe, somehow, and did not know how to understand it; but now I see." This man was always afterwards one of my best friends 16* 186 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. aided me very much in quieting opposition, and but for my self-possession and keeping my temper, he would have cared nothing for pistols. He was disarmed by my apparent non- resistance, for he had the courage of a tiger, and belonged to a family who were all of the same sort, and noted for it, and every man of them was my friend. I merely name this incident as carrying out the idea sug- gested in regard to the commencement of my difficulties in May, Banister, & Go's. case. Before I got through with this case, I had numerous adventures, but will not relate them, as they would probably be uninteresting to the reader, and have an appearance which I wish to avoid. Suffice it to say, I gained the land. CHAPTER XXXVI. MR. CLAY BECOMES PROMINENT — MR. MONROE NOTIFIES THE ALLIED POWERS NOT TO TOUCH AMERICAN SOIL- ITS GOOD EFFECT, AND THE WISDOM OF HIS DOING SO. About this time, 1822, a move was made among the Old Court men in Kentucky to bring Mr. Clay home from Con gress and run him for governor. I published a piece signed " Fabius," protesting against it, as Mr. Clay's services were important to the nation, and Kentucky had a plenty of citi-, zens who would make good governors — moreover, suggesting that the nation might call him to a higher office. Mr. Monroe's administration was now coming to a close, and no prominent man presented himself. The nation had been heretofore content to let Virginia furnish the President, and a junto at Richmond nominate him, as stated herein before in my account of the Old and New Court parties, and the transfer of Kentucky politics to Washington. THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 187 An incident, not a little remarkable, occurred towards the close of Mr. Blonroe's administration. The allied powers had indicated a disposition to interfere in behalf of Spain, to enable her to subjugate her South American colonies. The subject came up in conversation one day in Frankfort, and in the presence of a number of friends I remarked I wished that Monroe in his message would say to the allies that they must not intermeddle with affairs on this side of the water. When his message came out, it did contain this notification. " Well, B ," I re marked, " you see Monroe has acted according to my sug gestion." " Yes," said he, laughing; "great men will think alike" (ironically). Mr. Monroe was an evidence that you can never predict from what a boy is at school what he is to become afterwards. He was an old acquaintance of my father's, who said he was considered by no means a promis ing young man. I have heard his contemporaries at the bar say he was by no means strong. But that was because it was not his forte. I question whether Mr. Jefferson or Mr. Madison would have been strong there. Their minds were of a more philosophic cast. Monroe, if a dull man in the ordinary acceptation of the word, was one of the best Presi dents we have ever had. A good deal of speculation was now going on as to who would be our next President, and as Richmond was con sidered the fountain-head of news on that head, the letters which I received from G , which gave public opinion there, and the views of the junto, were sought with interest by all the politicians of Frankfort, so that, of an evening after the arrival of the m'ail, they generally came round to see what news I had. But from the start, Virginia was opposed to Mr. Clay's protective policy, and consequently to him for President, so that I never had any good news to give. Returning to Mr. Monroe, I think justice has hardly 188 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. been done to the importance of his warning to the allied powers. I may be told that he hazarded embroiling us in a general war with all Europe. If he did, he only hazarded what would have resulted to a certainty had those powers sent their armies and navies to conquer the Spanish colonies, . because, when they came to Mexico, Texas would have been debatable ground, and a collision there would have been in evitable. But even without that, the fleets and armies of the allies, on this side of the water, could not have operated without some collision with us. So that Mr. Monroe only hazarded what would have been certain without his warning; and then those allies must be indemnified by Spain for their aid. This would probably have given Cuba to England, and other provinces to the balance; and we should have had always dangerous and troublesome neighbors along-side of us, which it would have been a good bargain to have gotten clear of, even at the cost of a general war ; but Mr. Monroe got clear of them by a few strokes of the pen. To resume my narrative. CHAPTER XXXVII. TRIP TO THE LRON BANKS. Col. Richard Taylor, then military surveyor, notified me that he should commence surveying the military entries on the 20th of May, when it became my duty to be present. I designed going down about the 1st of the month, but it commenced raining, and continued incessantly until I hat} scarcely time to get down, the distance being over two hundred and fifty miles, and it still continued. But I was bound to be present at the surveying, having given THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 189 bonds with security to the amount of twenty thousand dol lars to do so. So I had to start in the rain, and with the country all thoroughly flooded I had such a ride as few could conceive of. My brother Philip was attending court at Henderson, which, however, had just closed on my arrival, and he accompanied me to Highland Creek, the rain haying ceased. Here the creek had overflowed its banks until it was apparently near a mile wide, the bridge appearing a quarter of a mile from the shore where I approached it. " What's to be done here ?" said I. " But the case admits of no debate. I must go on." So here I stripped off, and put my clothes in a bundle, tying them above my head, and my saddle-bags on one shoulder. In I plunged, and reached the bridge without swimming, but with the water half way up my saddle-skirts. Here I waved a farewell to my brother, and proceeded on. The water beyond the bridge was shal low. On arriving within four miles of Cypress Creek, I stopped at a cabin to inquire my road. "Why," said the man of whom I inquired, "the country is all overflowed, and the ferry-men are all away from the ferries — you cannot get on." "But my friend," said I, "I am so circumstanced that I am obliged to go on. I am obliged to be with the military surveyor before he gets into the woods, or I will never find him, and I have no time to lose." " Well," said he, " when we have dry ground it is a hard road to find, and if you get lost now, there is no telling what will become of you." But, as I insisted that I had no alternative, he commenced giving me directions, and presently called to his son to saddle " Kate" for him, saying he must go and show me, for I would certainly get lost under any directions he could give me. He accompanied me to within a mile of the creek, where the overflow stopped him; but it did not continue far; and he informed me that just on the other side I would come to another cabin, where I could get fur ther directions. Here the occupant toldtme it was impos- 190 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. sible I could get over; that none but a man intimately acquainted with the ground could keep from swimming. " Do you think you could ?" said I. " Yes," he replied, "I think T could." "Very well, then ; pilot me over, and I will give you a dollar." To which he agreed. On reach ing the creek, the waters seemed rushing through the woods with maddening velocity, and the settler seemed inclined to withdraw from his engagement. ' The bridge was a long way off — water intervening, and through the timber flowed a sea of waters, the extent of which could not be told. He wanted to beg off, but I pleaded with him to go on, or I must do it alone at all hazards. He assented, but said I would get well ducked. This I could not avoid ; and now concluded not to undress myself or to loose my saddle-bags from their fastenings, for should I get unhorsed I might lose them and my clothes, which would leave me in an awkward pre dicament. My guide went first, and I followed. In getting to the bridge I got thoroughly wet, and my saddle-bags also. But the worst was to come; we had to travel at least a mile up the creek in water, the depth of which could not be known, but my guide went foremost. Sometimes he would get over his depth, and have to swim a few yards as if crossing a drain, and, of course, I had to do the same. At last we arrived at dry land. But he said, as it was not far to the mouth of the creek, he would go with me. Here there was a ferry-boat, but no ferry-man. He put me over the creek again, and then over Tradewater River. I went on until near night (not very long), when I came to a cabin with but one room, but from what I could learn, there was no other that I could reach before night. Asking if I could stay, and being told I could, I alighted, and stripped my horse, for every man had to be his own hostler in those days. I would have been thankful for a chance to put on some dry clothes, but I had none, and, therefore, was com pelled to dry those that were on me by sitting close to the THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 191 fire. My saddle-bags I emptied, and dried everything in them ; among the rest, a good many papers which I feared were injured, but they were not. Having recounted to mine host my day's adventures, "Ah!" said he, "you have seen nothing yet. Wait till you pass the Tennessee, and get upon thes. flats of Clark's River; there I guess you will see trouble.*' The family was large, several grown daughters, and we had all to sleep in the same room. It may be wondered how we managed this. When the family were ready to retire, the master of the house asked me to go and see my horse fedt as in a former case, and as is customary. On my return all were in bed, and I pulled off all to my drawers, and was *soon ditto. I could have crossed the Cumberland and Tennessee next day, but, according to the advice of the landlord, I stopped on this side of the Tennessee that I might have the more daylight next day for the flats of Clark. I will here ven ture to pause a while to pay a passing tribute to the kind ness of these farmers. My business has thrown me a great deal among them, and I have had occasion to note their- kindness of heart and benevolence of disposition. They seem to be a different species from those raised in cities. Had I asked a man in a large city to direct me anywhere, he would probably do it with some impatience. But here a farmer, from real goodness of heart, stops in his busiest farm ing season to ride three miles to show me the road for fear I might get lost. And this is not an isolated case. They were of daily occurrence with me in some form. If any people on this earth are the chosen of God, they are our rural peasantry. I never did treat one of them unkindly, and never will. The next day I took the flats of Clark, with instructions to steer due south, for there was no following any path. I did so; and travelled, it seemed to me, four or five miles without seeing- one foot of dry land; but so very level is the 192 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. country that I did not go beyond my saddle-skirts in water 'at any time, and got through without getting wet. The next day brought me to Mayfield's Creek, which had overflowed its banks on the opposite side, and the ferry boat was tied there almost out of sight. I hallooed a long time in vain ; and finally concluded my only chance was either to swim my horse, or leave him and swim myself to get the boat, bring that over, and take my horse. The lat ter I determined on. The creek was like a river at this time, and I was not a very expert swimmer, but thought I could accomplish the job. The mosquitoes being very bad, I kept on my shirt, as I should not have done, but for hav ing to row the boat back. The sleeves filled with water as I jumped in, and caused me fatigue in swimming. I reached the limbs of the trees on the opposite bank with great diffi culty, and almost exhausted. Here I held on to get rested, the boat being yet a long way off; presently I started again, however; but after going a little distance found I could touch bottom, and then waded on to the boat, which I got into, rowed some distance up stream in the dead water, and then out and over, landing near my horse, who nick ered me a welcome. I now changed my shirt, put on my clothes, and got my horse into the boat. I was at some loss about fastening him to avoid the danger of his getting overboard, but got a heavy chunk which lay on the shore with a bit of a limb, placed it in the middle of the boat, and tied him to it. Now I commenced rowing up stream to get, as the sailors term it, an offing, but found it a most fatiguing job, my utmost efforts being scarcely equal to the current of the stream. Tired at last, I turned across, and found myself drifting down much faster than I expected, and my strength failing me. Looking ahead, I saw a ham per or collection of drift below, which I could not avoid. I laid down my oars, took a look, and saw a channel or clear passage through it, apparently of about twice the width of THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 193 my boat. I had, as I thought, yet time to make it; so I lay to, and pulled like a clever fellow until opposite to it, then turned the boat's head down, and she went through almost like a locomotive. I now turned, and reached the opposite shore about half a mile below where I found the boat. But after passing the bank, the water being dead, I managed by a fatiguing effort to get up td my first starting-point, and beyond it I found a road leading to the Iron Banks. This I took, and by inquiry arrived at Col. Taylor's about sunset of the 19 th, the next being the < one on which he had advertised to commenceshis survey. Never did Columbus feel more joy at the sight of land when in search of America than I did on getting to the end of my journey; and never did I travel miles which seemed so long as those from Mayfield's Creek to the colonel's. The house was a large, double log-cabin, with a separate room in the yard for visitors, and everything as comfortable as the newness of the country would allow of. The fried- chicken, with bacon and, eggs for supper, with a cup of hot, rich coffee, seemed a meal for a prince. Oh ! what a sauce for a supper is a keen appetite, and how the laboring man after a day's toil enjoys it. The colonel was a hospitable, sensible man; full of kind feelings, and with an interesting family, but buried here in the wildest forest I ever saw. I wondered that he should ever be willing to leave them alone. He had two sons, how ever, very able to take care of them. Loneliness was never so thoroughly realized to me as in this situation. It seemed to me ten miles " from anywhere." Upon relating to the colonel the incidents of my travel, he remarked, he believed he would have hazarded the consequences, and waited until the waters fell. 17 194 THE PILOT OF nUMAN LIFE. CHAPTER XXXVIII. A BEAR STORY — MEET A COUNTERFEITER — LODOE AT A CONVICT'S HOUSE — HISTORY OF THE COUNTERFEITERS. About nine o'clock I retired to bed — the only good comfortable bed which I had had since I left Henderson. Before I got to sleep I heard, a sudden squeel from a hog, which continued most frightfully, gradually lessening as, if the hog was being carried away. Curious to know the meaning of it, I bounced out of bed, put. on my clothes, and went out. There the colonel and his servants were whistling for the dogs, and the sons having got their rifles ready, we went in pursuit or a very large bear, which had come over the fence into the yard, and taken off a half-grown hog. The dogs got after him, and kept so about him that, in the dark, the young men were afraid to shoot for fear of killing them, and the bear finally got away unhurt, leav ing the poor hog with some two or three mouthfuls taken out of his rump, but he yet alive. The bear does not stop to kill its prey, but commences eating it while yet alive. This was the most daring thing I ever saw. -Why, he might as likely have gotten hold of some member of the family! The next day, on examining his tracks, they said he was one of the largest bears they ever saw, and that he would have weighed 500 pounds. This was a sort of liberty by the gentleman of the forest which I considered decidedly too familiar. The next day, all things being arranged, the colonel and myself proceeded on our surveying expedition; the chain-men and marker having been engaged to meet us near where we were to begin. On our road we met a man, who spoke THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 195 kindly to the colonel; but' the colonel, considering his uni form kindness of nlanner, I thought was not as cordial to wards him as I should have expected, and I asked who he was. " That," said the colonel, "is one among the chiefs of the counterfeiters." "Chiefs of the counterfeiters?" Ire- joined. "Yes," said he; "all the counterfeiters of the west nearly are congregated in this district. We have not yet population sufficient to take them, and they roam at large, perfectly secure and fearless.-" " I remarked," said I, "that you were rather cold in returning his- salutation." " Was I?" he rejoined; "well I did not intend to be so; I cannot yet afford to excite the enmity of those fellows, for there is no telling what they would do, if you once arouse their malice. They will be less disposed to harm me, as they think, being a government officer, if they were to do so, it would arouse the State to send a force sufficient to over power them. While I am civil to them, I think I am safe; but I have no wish to excite their enmity." "And do you know," I asked, "who they are?" "We have a pretty good idea," he replied; "but there is no telling how far their ramifications go; there are men who are not engaged in actually counterfeiting, who nevertheless deal with them, buy their money, and pass it off, and they' are interested in befriending theto. It would be dangerous to speak against them to any but such persons as you know. You might, ignorantly, speak to a man concerned with them, and then the eyes of all would be upon you — you would be safe nowhere." We, after a while, arrived at our point of beginning, and having agreed upon the mode of surveying the entries, com menced them. We stopped about an hour before night to have time to hunt lodgings, the chain-men and marker, with instructions to meet about an hour by sun next day, going one way, and we another. We had eaten no dinner, and were very keenly set. We called at a cabin, the most 196 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. miserable hovel I could conceive of, and the colonel asked for lodgings. No one was at home but a boy about ten years old. He said they were out of meal, and could give us none to eat. Wo had then to go a mile further to where the colonel said there was another cabin. When we had left this, he remarked he had no very great relish for that place anyhow. "No," I replied, "it is the least attractive dwelling for a human being to live in that, I think, I have seen." "As to that," said the colonel, "we will not meet with much better; but the fellow who lives there is a con vict just out of the penitentiary." "My God," said I, ''and would you have lodged in such a fellow's cabin?" "Why," he answered, "it is a tolerably tough case; but sooner than starve, and lie out in the woods, subject to be eaten by the bears and wolves, I would." Having arrived at the next cabin, pretty much fatigued, and very hungry, although it was not much better look ing, yet, getting used to a thing goes a great way, I felt much relieved. But on the colonel's asking if they could give us lodgings, he was answered that the house was full; and, besides, they had no corn for our horses. Here was a dilemma again. "Well," said he, "can we get a lit tle meal from you?" They answered we could. "Mr. T.," said the colonel, "if you have a clean handkerchief,, will you hand it out ? — mine is not clean." I got one out of my saddle-bags, and handed it over to be filled with meal, enough for our supper and breakfast, and, having received it, said, "Well, colonel! which way now?" Turning his horse, and I with him, he answered, "Those are the only two cabins within our reach. We have no alternative but to go to the one we have just left, and it is now some time in the night." My horror was extreme at such an idea. I asked if there was no help for it. "None," replied he, "but to sleep in the woods; and then we have nothing for our horses to eat." "But," I rejoined, "they have probably nothing THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 197 where we are going." "Yes," remarked the colonel; "I saw some corn in a crib." After a while we arrived, and told the boy we had come back to stay with him, to which he agreed. I did not learn whether he was the convict's son or not; I rather think not, however. He could not tell whether tho man of the house would be at home or not that night. " God grant he may not !" said I to the colonel, as the boy went out to get some wood to kindle a fire. " I don't know," said the colonel ; " as to being harmed by him, we would be safer' if he were here. The fellow would never think of injuring us in his own house, when it was known he was at home; but he might return at night, and, seeing our horses in the pen, steal them, and expect to lay the theft on some one else." On my expressing a fear that he would do this, the colo nel remarked he should take occasion to tell the boy who he was; the convict would he sure to inquire of the boy, and " they all believe it is best to let me and mine alone. While we are together, therefore, I do not think there is anything to apprehend ; but I would not advise you to lodge in this region when alone." The fire having been made, the boy undertook to bake our bread for us in a little oven, which he produced, and then, looking up the chimney, which was his meat-house, he took down a venison ham placed there to smoke. Though a dry meal, being very hungry, we made a pretty hearty supper. And now we were for bed. There was no sign of a bed in the house, but a pile of bear-skins and deer-skins in one corner of the room. The boy pulled out, and spread on the floor, hair up, a couple of bear-skins, and laid a deer-skin on top of each ; and on these we lay down to sleep, with our saddle-bags for pillows. The colonel was in five minutes dead to all outward cares — not so with me; I could not sleep so soundly under circumstances so novel. The colonel lay between me and the fire, and pre sently I heard him snuffling and blowing at the nose. I 17* 198 TnE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. concluded he was dreaming ; but he continued it with increasing energy, until I rose up and looked over to see what was the matter, for he lay with his face to the fire; and there I saw a little pig rooting at the colonel's nose. The sight caused me to burst into a fit of laughter; and I was for driving off the pig, yet concluded I would wait and see how long the colonel would bear it. But he was dead asleep ; it seemed nothing would wake him, and, for fear the pig might take hold of his nose with his teeth, I drove him off, when he went out at a hole which had been burnt in the corner of the chimney, which was built of logs. I got up and moved the unburnt chunks up against this hole, to keep him from returning. I could not go to sleep, weary and tired as I was, for the boy did not come into the cabin to go to bed, and I could not conceive the reason, not having noticed that there was any other room. But in the morning I found there was a little house, about ten feet square, back of the one we slept in, in which the boy had slept. As I lay reflecting on things around me, I could not help exclaim ing to myself, " My conscience, what a country is this for a decent man to live in !" In time exhausted nature gave way, I fell asleep, and so continued until awaked in the morning by the colonel. When I told him of the pig adventure, he seemed much amused, and said when he was tired and lay down to sleep, it took a good deal to awake him. I asked him how he could live in such a country. He remarked he had a large family, and wanted to have plenty of land for them. "Be sides," said he, "it is not in the nature of things for this condition to continue long; soon good settlers will come in and drive those fellows off — like the bears and the wolves, they clear out as civilization approaches." The event proves that he was right; for, now, the population is very good, the inhabitants kind and hospitable. But it was a long time before those counterfeiters vanished ; and they did incalcu lable mischief while they remained. Many a boat-load of THE PILOT OF, HUMAN LIFE. 199 produce was purchased by them with their spurious mo ney, and the vendors would only know their loss when afterwards they would attempt to pass their money. There was no use in trying to get redress; a majority of the population were their friends. They were finally, however, compelled to retire as an honest population came in, and they went to Wolfe Island. At last they were driven from there, and went to some island several hundred miles lower down the Mississippi, where they became more daring and desperate — often enticing in boats to trade, murdering the crews, and taking possession of the cargoes. There was some difficulty, too, in detecting them, for, in the first place, it is ten to one, if the boat were seen there, whether any one would suspect anything wrong; and if they did, and went with a force sufficient to overcome them, they would see the boat, perhaps a part of the cargo; the claimants would say they had purchased it of men who had taken their pay, and gone down or up the river. If the men were mur dered, their bodies would be thrown at night into the river, to float a hundred miles or so, before they would be dis covered — if discovered at all. But there is an old saying, on the Mississippi, that " that river never gives up its dead. They sink, never to rise again." The cause of this is said to be the quantity of sediment in the water, which settles upon the clothes, or in the dead man, and keeps him down. Many an anxious father, or mother, or wife, has looked for the return of the son or husband, who has gone down with a cargo made up by all of his earnings, perhaps for years, who has never returned, and whose death has been charged to cholera or yellow fever among strangers, but who was robbed and murdered by this gang. Their outrages, however, became finally so evident that a company was made up at some town on the Mississippi, which went to the island, surrounded it, and executed every man upon it. This seems to have closed their career. I have 200 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. heard nothing of any such since. This summary justice may seem harsh to some ; but in a country where the laws can not be made to reach the evil, there seems no alternative. These fellows never could be punished by law, proof to con vict them never could be obtained, and if an outraged publid, under such circumstances, sooner than submit to having their • fellow-citizens thus murdered with impunity, should take justice into their own hands, the necessity for ¦ the act is rather to be regretted than the act itself. It may seem strange that any law-abiding man should be willing to tole rate violence unsanctioned by the law. But what is to be done ? Self-preservation demands their extirpation, and the law will not, or cannot do it. Are these fellows to be allowed to continue their murders because they manage to evade the law ? There were the Harps and Masons in Union County, Kentucky, who forted themselves in on the Ohio River, be fore steam-boats commenced running, and had a company so Strong that no force, which could be raised in the county, could take them. They began by levying tribute upon every boat which passed down the Ohio, for they even had can non. The tribute which they levied was small, and evinced at first an uncommon moderation for freebooters, and no step was taken to conquer them ; but, finally, they became more daring, and murdered some of the citizens of the county — among the rest a young girl. Her father now determined never to rest until he had his revenge. Those fellows had the country under such fear of them that they would go out trading, and transacting business, notwithstanding their out lawed conduct. They believed the settlers would not at tempt to arrest them for fear of the consequences. This man, whose daughter was murdered, watched continually to catch some of them out of their fort, and, at last, caught the Big Harp (there were two, called Big and Little), meeting him in the road, being between Harp and his fort. Harp saw him at some distance, and knew his danger. He turned THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 201 and put spurs to his horse, which was a very fleet one; the father had also provided himself with a fleet horse, and Harp did not gain much upon him ; but the father could not shoot with any assurance of killing him, unless very close, and, if he missed, he was then in Harp's power. So he con tinued to pursue him, and they run in this way a great dis tance, but the father's horse was rather the best bottom, and he finally overtook Harp, and shot him. But he did not fall, yet it was evident he was hit, though he stuck to his horse, still being pursued relentlessly, until finally he fell. The father now dismounted to dispatch him; Harp told him he should not resist him; but, if he would bring him a little water, he might kill him. He lay near a tree. The father lifted him to, and set him up against it; and then went a little way to a branch, from which, in the brim of his hat, he carried Harp some water, and, while he was drinking, re loaded his rifle, and shot him. Then, with his knife, such as all hunters carried, cut off his head, and stuck it on a pole at a fork of the road between Henderson and Madison- ville, which place, from that circumstance, was called, and is to this day, "Harp's Head." A novel has been written on this event, called " Harp's Head." These men now found they would have to quit the country, and did so, scattering their forces ; some went down about the Iron Banks, where they were hunted and killed, and the rest, it is believed, shared pretty much the same fate. Since then no such piracies have been known on the Ohio. But it was only last year that a finish of them was made on the Mississippi. To return to my narrative : After making the best break fast our means would allow of, we paid the boy and prepared to resume our surveying, our convict host not having made his appearance. The details of our progress would be needless ; suffice it to say, it was soon found, as we agreed on the mode in which the surveys ought to be made, to conform to the entries, my 202 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. further presence was deemed needless, and I took my de parture. The way in which the things of this world go by accident or fashion is illustrated by the settlement of this country. Here are to be found some lands as rich as any in the world, below obstruction by low water or ice, and from which the produce can be got to market when it cannot be from the Ohio, and the land here can even at this day be purchased at from $3 to $5 per acre, which would cost on the Ohio River from $20 to $50. This is, in a measure,- owing to the fact that the stream of emigration has never yet been directed to this point, because of the original character of the population. That population is all gone, but the recollec tion of it has a deadening effect. CHAPTER XXXIX. PLAN FOR A NEW SETTLEMENT: — TRIP TO THE YELLOW BANKS. If some dozen families would contribute $1000 each, and employ an agent to lay it out judiciously in this section, all in one body, divide the same into as many parts as there were contributors, and sell the same at auction among them selves for common benefit, reserving, however, a school tract in a central position, say of 200 acres, they would overcome the existing obstacle to the lands rising in value, to wit: the presumed want of society. The first choice could be offered at auction to the highest bidder, then the second, and so on. All the fund raised in this way over and above cost might be laid out in adjoining lands for the benefit of the society; THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 203 and I venture to say that the lands so settled would soon rise in value from 500 to 1000 per cent. As it is society, mainly, which gives value to lands in the west, I wonder that there are not more combinations of this kind. Suppose a family designs moving to Iowa, Minnesota, Illinois, or any western State; such is the general emigration west, that, by a little pains, such a club could be formed, and derive great mutual benefit from the combination. It is the only kind of socialism where every man will be left free to enjoy the benefit, of his own capital, his own industry, and his own good management and intelligence, and conse quently the only kind which is feasible and practicable. But those who own slaves could not find a better region than this for such a settlement, the lands are owned by individuals, and if credit was desirable it could generally be obtained, thereby enabling the purchaser to provide much more land than he otherwise could. The passage of the Mobile and Ohio Railroad through this country is also to add greatly to its value. While, in taking leave of Col. Taylor, I left with regret a man whose short acquaintance had won much on my esteem, I confess I felt gratified at the idea of getting into, a region where more personal comfort was to be found. About ten miles on my road, I came to where there seemed to have been a small Indian settlement — no house or inclosr ure, but a small opening in a dense forest; Here I stopped for a moment to contemplate the change. Nature all around never had a wilder aspect to me, rendered the more palpable by the presence of this little opening, or prairie. There was not a bird, nor a squirrel, nor a living thing to disturb the awful silence which prevailed among the huge forest trees. I threw my right leg over the ponimel of the saddle, and so sat, enjoying the lonely solitude, when the sudden cracking of the sticks upon the ground caught my ear, and the next moment I found myself flat upon tho earth. The bounding of 204 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. ,a deer past had scared my horse, caused him to jump from under me, and leave me prostrate. Away he went, wildly through the woods, I knew not where. Rising up and look ing around, I now felt my loneliness in reality — not even my horse to keep me company, and in a region infested by bears and wolves in abundance ; very probably this deer might be fleeing from their pursuit. Upon the possibility of such an event, I sought a small tree to climb — too small for the grasp of a bear, by the side of which I stood, ready to mount if occasion should require. Here I felt inclined to adopt the exclamation of the fellow who, being shipwrecked at sea, saved himself in an open boat ; but this being upset, he got upon her bottom, and was likely to be washed off by every wave that came, when he exclaimed — " Hail Columbia, happy land ! If I ain't ruined, I'll be banged." Pursuit was needless; I could not tell which way he would go; so here I stood, not knowing what to do, when I heard a galloping in a different direction, and presently my horse came dashing back to the spot which he had left me at, but not finding me, he gave a violent snort, when I walked towards him, and he came to me, so that I got hold of his bridle. The wildness of the country doubt less frightened him, and he came back for protection. I now mounted him and pursued my journey. The waters being down, I reached the Yellow Banks without any diffi culty, and put up at Mrs. Adams's tavern — my old stopping- place ; and although she had not a brick chimney to her house, she had everything very neat and tidy, and her meals well cooked ; indeed, everything as good and comfortable as her means would admit of, and three pretty daughters to set ' off the whole to advantage. THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 205 CHAPTER XL. STORY OF MISS RHODY SHERMAHORN. Here I met with Col. Lowry, from Virginia, who had been down on the Cumberland River to hunt up some lands of his. "Well, sir," said I, "you found an awfully rough country?" " Oh, not at all," said he ; "you found the Iron Banks country rough, I suppose; but I was in the centre of fashion and gayety." " Ah !" I remarked, " I was not aware there were any such settlements in that region." "Oh, bless your heart," he rejoined; "why, sir, I found myself behind the times ! — ' late,' as the negroes say in my country. I. found I ' didn't know nothing, and always did,' when I got -there. I was at a ball, where all the intelligence and fashion of the country were assembled — a brilliant affair it was, too." " Indeed !" I continued. " Oh, yes, sir, and the belle of the evening was a dashing girl, I tell you." "You have reached the condition of brick chimneys, then ?" said I. "Why, not quite," he remarked; "but we had the floor very well rammed, until it was as hard and smooth as a treading-floor." "Ah !" I remarked, now comprehending his waggery. " Yes," he continued, " and I had a friend there who was very much disposed to make a lion of me, and so took me up to introduce me to the belle. She was, as I said, a famous girl. Oh, she was dressed to kill ; she had on both shoes and stockings; and indeed most of them woro shoes, and were the kindest-hearted creatures in the world. If one was asked to dance who had no shoes, one who had. would take them off and lend them to her. I saw my friend looked very self-complacent, and proud, of every- 18 206 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. thing around him — indeed, his looks very plainly told me that he supposed we had nothing like that in old Virginia; and mine as plainly answered nothing, for I thought they took the shine off the ginger-cake. Feeling anxious to take a hand in the next break-down, I asked this friend of mine to introduce me to the belle. I felt smitten by her at first sight. She was a splendid girl, I tell you ; she wore a splendid calico dress, full of peacocks and game-fowls on it, and all other things to correspond. Oh, she was dressed to kill, and her eyes were so bright that it made a fellow almost sneeze to look her in the face. We approached her sitting on a bench, in all the conscious pride of undivided power. 'Bliss Shimmyhorn,' said he (Miss Rhody Sherma- horn was her name, pronounced there Shimmyhorn), 'let me introduce you to my friend Colonel Lowry, of Virginia.' She looked perplexed, and made no answer. Supposing she did not understand, he repeated the request, when she uttered a very emphatic ' No, sir !' I, being very much embarrassed, retired, and my friend with me. 'What does this mean?' said I. 'I can't understand it,' he replied; ' there's some thing wrong — a screw loose somewhere ; I will endeavor to find out,' said he to me before going; ' she is somewhat spoiled here ; she is the great toast among us, and is very punctilious, and I apprehend she imagines we have violated some rule of etiquette : however, I will soon find out.' So he went up to her, and said : ' Miss Rhody, will you do me the favor to inform me why you refused to be introduced to my friend Col. Lowry ?' She looked at him with a manifesta tion of scorn, and said : ' John Shanks, you ain't got no manners, and never did have any !' ' Why, Miss Rhody !' said he; ' I assure you I am unconscious of having offended you; please inform me in what I have done it.' 'Why/ said she, ' you fool ! do you think I have become so brazen faced as to let him kiss me here before all the company f No, he sha'n't do that, if he is Col. Lowry of Virginia .'' and THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 207 here being asked to dance, she bounced up, and my friend came to report the result to me. Well, thinks I, so much for not understanding the etiquette of society here. I said to my friend : ' What shall I do ? I wish to dance with some of those girls.' ' Very well,' he replied, ' lay aside your city fashions, and go and ask 'em.' So I laid aside my city fashions, and enjoyed myself very much, and even danced with Miss Rhody, whom I found very affable, and I apolo gized for asking the introduction when I did, saying I would take it after the ball was over. ' Very well,' she replied, with an arch smile ; ' there is a season for all things.' " We all laughed heartily at this relation of his ball adven tures, and I found him a man of infinite humor and fun, with whose society I was much entertained while we were together. CHAPTER XLI. THE A SETTLEMENT. Setting out for Frankfort, I had to call on my way at P 's .32,400 acre survey to do some business there. Along-side of this survey was a settlement of five or six Vir ginia families, made as I have advised at the Iron Banks, chiefly of the A s, an intelligent, refined, and hos pitable people. Here I found it very convenient to stop a day or two, in my passages to and fro ; the only objection was the difficulty in getting away. There is a heartfelt, genuine sincerity in the character of these old Virginians which is truly delightful. They are generally improvident and uncalculating, and will have good dinners, fox-hunts, and races at any cost, and regardless of consequences. Such 208 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. was the case here to some extent, but not with all. There was one who, with all his fine Virginia feelings, had a keen eye for the future, and took especial care not to let the end of any one year find him worse off than he was at the be ginning. He had two beautiful daughters, neither grown, the eldest probably fourteen. They had seen but little of society, and yet how charmingly refined their manners were ! Their very mode of dressing, of tucking up their hair, of handling the ivory netting-needle, of sewing, every movement about them showed, in racer's phrase, the "Diomede blood." Neither the log-cabin nor rags could have obscured their gentle raising. It was ingrained in their nature. An evi dence of this I had many years after the time I am now writing of, for this delightful settlement in time became scattered. The gentleman I have just been speaking of died. His daughters married, and sons went into business. Another also died ; and a third, whose wife died, afterwards married again. He was what in the West is termed a whole- souled fellow ; that is, a man who will lend his name without sufficiently calculating the consequences; the effect of which was that he had finally to sell out. But he too had a family of beautiful daughters, one of whom only it became my for tune to know. She was probably not in existence at the time I have been writing of, but was the daughter of his first wife; and finding, when she came to years of discretion, that her father could not support her, she determined to take a school and support herself. I was driving one morning into the town of New Haven, in the county of Nelson, a very small village, with an honest, industrious population, but no sign of fashion about it. On the opposite side of the street from the hotel at which I stopped, I saw a young lady enter a store. Her air, grace, and the lout ensemble about her sa tisfied me she did not belong there. There was something remarkable about her, and I asked the hotel-keeper who she was. He answered she was a young lady who was keeping THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 209 school a few miles in the country. I remarked she was a lady; I could see it in her every movement. " Yes," said the keeper, " she is a Miss A , from Breckenridge County." " What !" said I. He repeated the answer, and mentioned whose daughter she was. " Why, I knew her father well; have been a hundred times at his house. How came she here ?" He then gave me her history, and said, " poor though she was, she had been courted by one of their wealthiest farmers, and had refused him; that he was not a man of education, but very well to do in the world. " " Humph !" said I. *' Well, sir, you must introduce me to her." He said she would call at his house presently, which she did, going into the private part of the house, and we went in. On being introduced, I told her I was an old ac quaintance of her father's. She said she had often heard him speak of me. I found her very' intelligent, interesting, and beautiful, and withal cheerful, and resigned to her lot. Upon inquiring of her how she spent her leisure hours, she replied she had not many of them; but with a sweet laugh, as if the. thing were ridiculous, she answered, among other things she was trying her hand as an authoress. What a pity, thought I, that some clever fellow, all things suiting, could not have you for a wife. I left her with a feeling of regret. 18* 210 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. CHAPTER XLII. PURCHASE OF MASON — SECOND SALE OF LAND AT THE YELLOW BANKS — TRIP TO VIRGINIA. But how I am wandering ! Yet ever so from childhood's hour a pretty girl could always attract me. But to return. In the neighborhood I have been speaking of, I met with Major Richard B. Mason, of the United States Army, who was related to the A s, and was staying with them. He held the legal title to the claims at the Yellow Banks, which interfered with Ross and Mays. He proposed to exchange his claim there for 1200 acres of the P. survey, and though I was not authorized to exchange lands, I concluded to do it, and charge myself with the land exchanged at valu ation, and take the claim myself, which I had been sent to Washington to compromise, and to complete that arrange ment. But finally, finding what I got was a great bargain for what I gave, I concluded, in order to avoid all ground of cen sure, I would turn it over to the P s. I was now ready for a third land-sale, and so advertised on my arrival in Frankfort. In due time this took place with a very large company, and although the lands, compared with present prices, sold very low, yet with prices as then ranging, they sold uncommonly well. J. L. M , one of the chief owners, who was present, said they went far beyond his expectations. This was in consequence of the low price at which the lands had gone at the previous sales. Persons expected to be supplied at similar rates, but, more attending than could be supplied, it was evident some must return landless, and so the bidding was very spirited. I purchased more than THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 211 twenty years afterwards some of the property sold at that sale for less than it cost; and sold twenty years after, for less than cost and interest, some which I bought at that sale. My commissions amounted, I think, as well as I can recollect, to over six thousand dollars, though now B came in for one-fourth. After he had lived with me one year without any agreement about salary, I directed him to credit himself with one thousand dollars, and then told him I would give him one-fourth of the future profits of the busi ness in lieu of salary; this was before the sale. I now prepared to go to Virginia for another general set tling up. I never liked more than two years to pass with out clearing the decks, paying up, and getting clear receipts. This had a good effect. It kept me familiar with those for whom I was doing business, inspired them with confidence, and enabled me to make acquaintances from whom I got fresh business; although I now had as much as I could do, and my income for the last year had been much greater than any previous year. On starting in, I took letters of introduction from J. J. Crittenden to Henry Clay, which I did not deliver, however, until passing through Washington on my return trip. My first step on reaching Virginia was to go to Norfolk to see my mother, who seemed to think me on the high-road to fortune. She was an excellent mother, and told -me many things of value. While in Norfolk, I met with Miss P , a beautiful and fascinating girl, a great belle, and very rich. Her sister, Mrs. T , was an old acquaintance of mine. I spent much time with Miss P , but I had in my own mind a destiny to fulfil, and I would not allow myself to fall in love. Returning to Richmond, I settled up with all claimants there, and then went to Amelia, where Judge Bouldin was holding court, and closed with him, thence to Petersburg, and closed with every one there. Now being free to enjoy myself, I again returned to Richmond, there 212 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. had an interview with Governor Tyler in regard to the mili- tary surveys, and my action on them. I had addressed the Legislature of Kentucky, with a view to obtain permission to lay the unlocated warrants, but unsuccessfully. The, governor was satisfied with my course. But there was now a blank in my enjoyments — the lovely F. L was out of town. CHAPTER XLIII. MEET WITH MISS P . After a little while, I concluded to go to Norfolk again, and started down on the steam-boat " Petersburg," in com pany with two acquaintances, Lieutenants Kennon and Mc- Grudor, of the United States Navy, two noble fellows, as all our naval officers are. The day was beautiful, and we en joyed it much. On arriving at City Point, I heard the cap tain tell one of the stewards to " heave ahead" and bring in General P 's baggage. I was acquainted with the gene ral, and was glad to find he was coming on board, for he had always a smile of welcome to his friends, with a sunshine of benevolence on his countenance, which told that he was in peace with all human nature, and yet with a firmness and resolution as determined as Andrew Jackson's. The reso lutions of censure against General Jackson for hanging Ar- buthnot and Ambrister came up while General P was in Congress, and he was one out of only fifteen who voted for them. Afterwards, when General Jackson was elected President, General P , being then Marshal of Virginia, under an appointment from Mr. Monroe, presuming, of course, as all the opponents of General Jackson were to be removed, as was understood, he would be among the fore- THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 213 most, sent in his commission; but it was returned to him with a complimentary letter from General Jackson, hoping he would continue to serve. Now came the general on board with a young lady under his arm. It was his daughter V , to whom he intro duced us all three. She was fourteen years of age, spare made, but very symmetrical, in a travelling-dress, with the fairest skin I almost ever saw, the rose and lily beautifully mingling; with bright hazel eyes, a nose a very little arched, or Roman ; a mouth exquisitely sweet and beautiful, of such a classic chiselling that the most fastidious painter or sculptor would be satisfied with it as a model; the chin in corre spondence, and the forehead fair and capacious. Her hair was of a rich auburn, and beautifully glossy. I thought I had never seen so pretty a thing in human shape, and had no idea that a mere child could have made such an impression on me. Her manners were easy and self-possessed. There was nothing childish about her but her age. She had the refinement of a Virginia country lady accustomed to city so ciety. There was no mannerism, no pretence, nothing but the natural well-bred lady about her. If I were to search the world for a lovely woman, the loveliest of her sex, I would seek her from a refined country family in Virginia or Kentucky. It is there, in the country, that you will find re finement and good sense, which sees everything through a natural medium, and is superior to the affectations of the conventional fashions of the day. Oh, there is something of lovely originality, freshness, and purity in such a character, which charms on first sight. Her mind was, -if possible, more lovely than her person. She had evidently read a great deal for a girl of fourteen, and of substantial reading, had well digested it, and made it a part of her own mind. Without the least pedantry or vanity, she had a distinct opinion upon any named subject, and expressed herself with ease, in chaste, beautiful, and appropriate language. I was attracted by her 214 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. on her first entering upon the boat, and continued in con versation with her until we landed in Norfolk, where I saw her to her boarding-house, and promised to call next day. On going to my brother's and Major S 's (they married sisters, and the gentlemen and their wives were all so at tached to each other that they lived in the. same house as one family, until the size of their families made it necessary to separate. I doubt whether another instance of such har mony and affection could be anywhere found), I related my adventures on the way down, and described Miss P . My sister-in-law and Mrs. S both laughed heartily. " Well, R.," said they, " you surely are in love at last. None but a lover could dress up poor human nature as your fancy has sketched Miss P ." "When you see her," said I, " you will not call it a fancy sketch." The next day they visited her with me. On returning, Mrs. S. said, "R., I am as much in love with her as you are ; I do not think you have exaggerated at all." My sister-in-law rejoined, " Not a bit, not a particle. She is the loveliest little thing I ever saw. And, oh ! so re fined and intelligent. Oh! you have my consent, boy; I'm clear for it. But, I tell you, she's not going to Kentucky. . You must come to Virginia if you get her." I replied, " It would be time enough to settle that question three or four years hence, when she was grown." While we were visiting Miss P , Bliss P r came in to' see her, and spent about an hour. In the course of the day afterwards, I called on Miss P r, and, during our conversation, made some remark, a little touched with gallantry. " Oh, look here," said she ; " none of that now, if you please. I have seen enough this morning to satisfy me ; if I ever had any hopes of you, they are now at an end ; Miss P has you secure in her net. I never saw a poor fellow so far gone in so short a time." " Why," I replied, " she is a mere child ;" to which she answered, " Child, or no child, she has you fast." THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 215 General P was now invited on board some of our ships-of-war, to Old Point Comfort, and I with them ; and we spent several days delightfully, I believing that my atten tions were by no means unacceptable. After about a week, General P returned to Petersburg, and I should have gone with them but for my unwillingness to acknowledge that I was captivated by such a mere child. Nevertheless, she was not such a mere child but that she could see the fact, and I could see that she was disappointed when she found I was not going. Having a niece, however, living in Petersburg, Blrs. Wm. H. McF , I had a good excuse to go there, followed in a few days, and, on my arrival, found Miss P at Mr. M 's. She seemed evidently gratified to see me, and said she was afraid she had seen me for the last time. I replied she would forfeit one of thehigh attributes I had allotted her, sincerity, if I thought she expected me to believe her ; that she, unfortunately for me probably, saw deeper into my feelings than it was prudent for me she should. The next day Miss R , a beautiful girl, and herself, pro posed a ramble to the Appomattox. I alone went with them. We went out into the river upon the rocks, jumping over the gushing waters from rock to rock, where I would often have to jump down to a lower rock to receive them, and was not such a pilot as to select the smoothest passages, but those where most help would be needed, and a delightful ramble it was. The moss-covered rocks, and roaring waters in among them, foaming, dashing, and plunging, with those two young innocents, like fawns skipping over them^it was a scene for a painter. Several days I spent in Petersburg, and my niece discovered my partiality; like my friends in Norfolk, guarded me against committing myself, saying : " She would never go to Kentucky, and, if she would, that I should have the oppo sition of all her friends to encounter." I replied, " She was too young for me to think of courting her ; that was out of 216 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. the question now. What a few years might bring around I did not know." On the day of my departure, I went to take leave of her, at Battersea, Judge 31 's residence, where she made her home while in Petersburg, her father living about sixteen miles in the country. She asked me how long it would be before I would return to Virginia. I replied, about two years. " By which time," she continued, " you will have forgotten us all." "You hardly think so, I imagine?" I replied. " Well," said she, "we shall often think of you, and you must not forget us." "Never," I replied; "I, can never forget you." On taking leave, my vanity induced me to think she looked sorrowful. On arriving in Richmond, I related all my adventures to G . I now prepared to take my final departure, going around among my relatives and friends. Mrs. P , a cousin, charging me to take care of that bewitch ing Miss Shermahorn ; having, on my first arrival, related Colonel Lowry's adventures, but pretending that I was my self the hero, and to her infinite amusement. CHAPTER XLIV. VISIT TO JUDGE BROOK — FIRST INTERVIEW WITH ME. CLAY — HIS NATIONAL POLICY — THE ERROR OF VIRGINIA IN OPPOSING IT. On my way out, I passed through Fredericksburg, and, a few miles on the south side, called on Judge B , the especial friend of Mr. Clay, who was then in nomination for the Presidency. Judge B — ¦ — was very warm in his admiration, and sanguine in his hopes ; too much so, I thought. BIy association in Richmond had brought mo to a different conclusion. Judge B gave me letters to THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 217 Mr. Clay, and such as were calculated to give me his con fidence. With my relatives in Fredericksburg, I spent a day or two. My aunt, Mrs. S , was a magnificent woman. I, was always delighted in her company. Mr. Bladison, while President, in passing from Washington to his resi dence, in Orange County, always made Mr. S 's his stopping-place in Fredericksburg. I doubt not the society of Mrs. S had a great attraction for him. And she had a daughter, not less attractive to me ; but now my fancy was otherwise filled. There was an affection and good feeling prevailing among all the branches of this family, the result of the wise teaching of their mother, which made them all happy, and kept most of them in Frederieksburg, that they might be always together ; while most of* their friends have scattered everywhere, sometimes rich, oftener poor, but en countering all the vicissitudes of fortune, with the anxieties and uneasinesses necessarily consequent thereon; while those of Fredericksburg, occupying a medium ground, never hoping nor caring to be rich, lived always handsomelyand plentifully, being contenf with the affection and society of each other, and the friends around them, discarding ambition and the vain aspirations of the common world ; they showed a good sense, self-control, and correct philosophy, which are not com mon, and are only to be appreciated when we compare their happy, quiet, contented condition, with the restless enter prise and constantly changing fortunes of their more ambi tious relatives. I now proceeded on to Washington, and delivered my let ters of introduction to Blr. Clay. He received me cordially ; but somehow, not as I expected ; there was a loftiness about him despite of his courtesy which was, I presume, the natural result of a constant association in Washington with men who were always paying court to him and cringing before him, but which was repulsive to me, and I was for a little while disappointed. There was a decided elegance and courtliness 19 218 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. of manner, but such a loftiness that I felt as if I could not get within ten feet of him. I was hurt, not at any disre spect, but I had such an admiration of the man's character that I wanted to love him, but I felt as if I could not do it, and left him after the first interview with a feeling of melan choly. He told me I must call often to see him, while I was in Washington : " Call up at any time, and take my coffee," which I construed to mean, " I have no time for ceremony with one of your years." I was so puzzled and put out by his manner that I made no reply. In my own mind I determined not to go to see him any more. And with this feeling left him, a good deal lowered in my own self-esteem. However, I consoled myself with the con clusion that I was ignorant of Washington manners, and had only to regret that they were such as would preclude my mixing with its great men. It would be difficult to convey a true idea of my feelings. I admired Mr. Clay. I believed him to be the greatest man in our country. I was anxious to have cause to continue to admire him. He could not intend any disrespect ; there was no motive for it. On the contrary, every inducement to the reverse. It was, then, that I was too young to be considered entitled to any such respect as a visit from him. Perhaps so — perhaps I was, and I began to compromise the matter that I would still be his friend, but would not repeat my visit. In the evening of the same day, however, while in my room, the servant brought me Mr. Clay's card, saying he was below, wishing to see me. I went down and invited him to my room. He remained about an hour, making in quiries in regard to Judge Brook, Mr. Crittenden, and his other Kentucky friends, and was altogether a different man from what he was in the morning. His friendships, sympa thies, and good feelings for his acquaintances, seemed all to come out. How was this ? thought I. The answer suggested itself, that, when I called in the morning, I probably found THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 219 him engaged upon some important State matter, and his mind could not be released from it while I was with him; and while talking to me, he was thinking of other things. Now he had thrown off those State matters, and was in his sociable and agreeable humor. He was then Secretary of State, and I will here take occasion to correct an error which I have seen going the rounds of the papers, that Mrs. Clay was never in Washington. To my own knowledge she was, for I saw her there. The conversation turning upon Judge Brook's letter, I remarked, "I feared the judge was over- sanguine." He asked my reasons. I answered : " My as sociations had probably been more promiscuous than the judge's. I had mixed a good deal with both parties, and I apprehend that Virginia was afraid of his American system. She was odd in her notions, and sometimes took up very un reasonable ones ; but having taken them up, there was great pride of consistency, and she would adhere to them with great pertinacity. There were men in Virginia who had been in the habit of controlling public opinion, and who were not willing to be led by others. If they themselves could have originated his system, they would probably have adopted it; being, however, originated by another, if they gave in to it, they must play a secondary part, and they would prefer being first in opposition." He seemed a good deal affected at my opinion, and I regretted having so freely given it, and remarked, " that, however, I might be mistaken, and probably was, for I had not been long in the State, and my opinions were formed from a short association." "No, sir," said he, "your opinions are correct, and your advantages for learning public opinion better than those of older men. Old politicians would speak freely before you, but would be cautious before older men ; and as you are not yet old enough to have become hackneyed in the ways of politicians, you speak the true impressions made upon your mind. Your in terest and your wishes do not bias your judgment. I would 220 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. rather," said he, " rely on your opinion now, than probably ten years hence." (I presume he went upon the maxim that " Fools and children speak the truth.") Blr. Clay seemed always especially anxious for the good opinion of his native State, and hurt that she always opposed him. And this is singular, for all his measures were especially, as I conceive, calculated to advance the interest of Virginia. No State in the Union has more latent wealth in the shape of water- power, coal, and iron (Pennsylvania perhaps excepted), only needing the fostering care of the general government to bring them into life, but for want of which, the water-power is wasted, and her minerals lie buried in the earth valueless. His proposition, too, for distributing the proceeds of the sales of the public lands, was, as I conceive, the wisest mea sure which he ever originated, although it is least noticed, and, as far as I have seen, entirely omitted in the eulogiums upon his life and public services by those who have under taken to deliver them. Had that law been permitted to con tinue, that fruitful source of demagogueism, the public lands, would have been withdrawn, and with it one of the greatest causes for corrupting the political integrity of the country. Now it is a fund to offer for presidential votes, and is squan dered in a most licentious manner, and most partially and unjustly. Virginia, who originally ceded the greater por tion of it to the general government, sees millions upon mil lions of acres ceded to the new States, to make railways and other public improvements, but no part of it comes to her, By Mr. Clay's bill, she would have received about two hun dred thousand dollars per annum to expend in railways and education, for the condition of the payment was that it should be so expended. This, at the present rate, would have paid interest, probably, on four millions of dollars, which, under a well-managed system, would have distributed railroads throughout the State; for I would never have railroads to cost over $4,000,000 progressing at any one time. Let them THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 221 be finished, or a portion of them, before commencing any more, and go on as fast as the revenues arising from the finished portions would pay interest on further sums to be raised. Thus, when works to the extent .of one million were completed, they would probably yield five per cent., which would borrow one million more. Now, again, start works to that amount, and so on continually extending as the revenue increased. It is easy to see, if the works were judiciously planned, how, in time, railroads might, by means of this fund, have been made to penetrate every part, and without any ex pense to the State ; developing immeasurable wealth, which must otherwise be buried in the bowels of the earth until the cheap transportation, which railroads would furnish, shall cause a demand for them. The plaster of Paris, in the neigh borhood of Abingdon, would be a source of great wealth, if it had vent. The southern trade, which would come by way of the Nashville and Richmond Railroad, if completed, would make Richmond a great manufacturing town. All of those benefits would have resulted from continuing in force the Distribution law. The Old States — the Old Thirteen — which originally ceded the greater part of the public lands, would have obtained their full share of the proceeds of their sales. But no, it must be repealed, and this rich fund squandered in political corruptions. Some argue that the law was un constitutional ! Was it unconstitutional to let all the States share the benefit, but constitutional to confine those benefits to a few ? The truth is, it was Mr. Clay's law, and such was the feeling of jealousy prevailing against him, that, sooner than let the country thrive under his direction, his opponents preferred to let her suffer; hence, they repealed one of the very best laws upon the national statute-hook. This feeling was never more clearly evidenced than in the Compromise Laws. Mr. Clay offered one bill embracing them all. This Congress rejected, because the credit of its passage would inure to Mr. Clay. But afterwards they took up the several 19* 222 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. branches of his bill, and, one after another, passed them all, vainly supposing thereby that they would deprive him of the credit of the authorship. But vain was the hope — the object was too shallow. He has the credit of it, and will forever have it. To the same feeling may be traced the general policy of our country. It has been not what Blr. Clay's political opponents thought was for its advantage, but what was in opposition to the measures which he advocated. Among the rest, the improvement of our rivers and harbors by the general government. For the want of this, thousands* of lives and millions of property have been annually lost. Why was this ? Not because the nation willed it, but be cause politicians were unwilling to add to the brilliancy of a luminary whose light already too effectually obscured the lesser stars. No earthly ground could be found for opposing such appropriations but its pretended unconstitutionality. Then the rivers must fill up with snags, navigation cease be cause of the sublimated scruples of those fastidious politicians who would ruin their country to avoid the danger of doing what they pretended to consider an unconstitutional act. Why, what sort of bumpkins do they suppose our forefathers were, to make a constitution which should prohibit the pas sage of laws indispensable to the security of our lives and property ? Or what was the meaning of that clause which authorized laws necessary "for the public good and general welfare?" But, say they, take this clause literally, and it abrogates the whole of the restrictions of the constitution. Was it then meaningless? Why was it put in? For the very reason that there might be cases, beyond the ken of the members of the convention, where it would be indispensable for Congress to have power to act, and this clause was de signed to give that power in such extreme cases, while the general tenor of the constitution was to be taken as an ex pression of the meaning and intention of the convention. I am far from advocating a licentious construction of the con- THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 223 stitution. On the contrary, I am for construing it strictly, with due respect for good sense. But, according to my view, the convention never intended to deprive Congress of the right to do an act which the States could not do, and which the public good required. Thus, if Congress could not remove the snags from the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers, what power can? These rivers divide States throughout their whole course until they come to Louisiana, and for the States to act, the two opposite States, all along the boundary, must form a league, the river belonging to them equally; but this league is prohibited by the constitution, except with the consent of Congress. And neither would those States have a right with out the consent of the others, because the navigation of the river is the common property of all. As I conceive, the constitution cannot be so construed as to annihilate a right of sovereignty. It must exist with the States or the general government. This does not exist with the States, because, as aforesaid, the constitution prohibits a league among them; therefore, it does exist with the general government. The protective system is another of Mr. Clay's measures, the wisdom of which is shown by its effects on our prosperity, on which it acts as heat on mercury in a thermometer, or as manure upon a meadow; its presence is seen whenever it exists, and as it is withdrawn, so go its fertilizing effects. Take one year, at any time after an increase of the tariff, and you will discover an unusual prosperity prevailing ; take a year after its decrease, and you will see the evident signs of approaching ruin. Look to the years '29 and '30, and then the gradual fall ing off to '42 — the grand crisis having arrived in '39. Then look to the prosperity succeeding '42, until a reduction of the tariff in '46, and the general prostration which im mediately followed, and which would have resulted in national bankruptcy but for the discovery of gold in Cali fornia, which has served to pay up the thirty or forty millions 224 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. of deficit, which would otherwise exist between our imp and exports. With a command of prosperity unexampled, we have blindly surrendered it all to England. We com mand the cotton supply of the world — that of the East Indies, Egypt, and South America being of comparatively little consequence. Our exports of cotton ought to be a clear gain to us, and our imports ought to be paid for by our other exports. But so far from that being the case, it takes all our cotton, and from thirty to forty millions of our California gold to bal ance our imports. Such would not have been the case, had the policy of Henry Clay prevailed ; and it would have pre vailed, had he not been the author of it. It is said there is no evil without an accompanying good. While Mr. Clay's death has caused, a mourning through the nation among his friends, it is to be hoped that it will now quiet hostility to his measures among his opponents, and that they will set themselves to work for their country's good. Time will unfold his value, and show to his country how ungratefully she has treated him. But alas ! while this may be a consolation to his posterity, it is of no avail now to him. CHAPTER XLV. NECESSITY FOR CHARITABLE FEELINGS — FURTHER REMARKS UPON MR. CLAY'S CHARACTER. Events in my after life showed how uselessly sensitive 1 had been at our first meeting, for my own business threw me into positions where I needed more the charity of others than he did of mine. On one occasion, going into a store in Owensboro', I met an old gentleman named Mosely, to THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 225 whom I spoke familiarly, who did not answer me, but turned off to the young man behind the counter, and commenced buying some goods. Thinking this singular, I renewed my efforts to draw him into conversation, when he turned to me and remarked : " Blr. T , I like my acquaintances to be the same to me always ; I do not like a man to speak to me when it suits his convenience, and when it does not, to refuse to do so." " Do these remarks apply to me ?" said I. " Yes," he answered; "not an hour ago I spoke to you as you came from Bristow's Corner, and you would not condescend to no tice me." "I do not recollect it," I replied. "Yes, sir," he continued ; " you looked me full in the face." " Now I do remember!" I observed, "as in a dream. I remember it, Mr. M , and must ask credit from you for sincerity, when I tell you that still I was not conscious of seeing you ; my mind was deeply absorbed at the time, and I saw you as a somnambulist would. If I had designed refusing to return your salutation then, I should not seek it now." Some friends who were by remarked that it had been noticed by several of my friends that I would sometimes pass them in the streets and not notice them, and soon after meet them with the utmost familiarity, which they had attributed to absence of mind. " Or rather," said I, "to the mind being turned inward, and was for a time insensible to outward objects; I am glad, however," I remarked, " that you have acquainted me with this foible ; it is a serious one, which I shall endea vor to correct." And I did so to a great extent, even carry ing the thing to an opposite extreme. To return, Mr. Clay finally took leave of me, after having endeared me to him as much as he could have desired ; and this attachment on my part was always on the increase until his death. There was this in Blr. Clay, where he differed from most politicians — the object he had in view was always honest. Blost politicians are subject to be approached by men having some private measure to advance, often in oppo- 226 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. sition to the public good. From popularity-seeking motives they listen with patience and politeness, never giving an un civil rejection. Mr. Clay, on the contrary, heard all such measures with reserve, taking especial pride in never pro moting any of them, when in his opinion opposed to the public good. This gave a certain semblance of austerity to his manners — something forbidding on first acquaintance; and the want of that indiscriminate cordiality which marks the manners of the ordinary politician caused him by many to be thought cold. But such was far from being the fact; he was warm and cordial in his friendships, but would not sacrifice his public duty to serve any living man. The remark he made, that he "had rather be right than be President," is a true type of the man. He was too upright and unyield ing, and too pre-eminently distinguished to reach the Presi dency. But would it have added to his credit to have been President? Not one pennyweight. CHAPTER XLVI. MY OPERATIONS IN KENTUCKY. Having finished my mission to Washington, I departed for Kentucky. An act of the past legislature, forfeiting all lands which should not be taken possession of and tenanted by a certain time, now opened a rich harvest for me, or rather us, B being now a partner with one-fourth inte rest. We were almost the only agents now for non-residents. I presume our business exceeded that of all other agents in the State. We had a book prepared for every county in the State, and all the business belonging to the several counties regularly entered in those several books, with in structions as to what was to be done. THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 227 We employed several sub-agents, and kept them always riding; charging ten cents per mile to and from Frankfort, and $3 33 for each lease taken. The income was very con siderable. At the last land sales I had purchased in some of the choice lands of May's estate at the upper end of the Yellow Banks. This was done in trying to make them bring a higher price, but J. L. M insisted on my keeping them ; and I agreed to do so, on condition that he would insert in the deeds all the circumstances ; which he did. At the same sale, he had been induced to buy some lands below Owens boro, now known as Bonharbor, These he regretted having bought, and urged me to take. I did so on the same condi tions. These purchases absorbed nearly all my commissions which were due, and I feared might leave me in debt. This was a condition which I had promised myself I never would come to after seeing the unhappy results from it to my father. But we were making money very fast, and the pros pect was, we would soon pay up. Upon this land above town was a very large pond, of three hundred acres, laid down on the original map of Kentucky as Davis's Pond, which had to be drained to make the land of any value. This would cost a good deal of money. But it would not now do to look back. So at it we went, cutting a ditch around the pond on the outside, throwing the dirt inside, our object being to prevent the water of the hills from running in, believing that no more water fell upon any land than it would absorb, or than it would evaporate ; and as there were no springs in the pond, we had only to get clear of the water which flowed in from the surrounding country. This we would do by turning it off. Besides which, however, we had interior ditches. This was a very expensive job, some of the cutting being ten feet deep, and necessarily twenty feet wide at top and over. It was many 228 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. years before this was permanently successful, but it was finally so, and reclaimed a large body of the finest land I ever saw, made by a deposit for ages of the rich washings of the adjacent grounds. A tenant to whom we rented part of the ground admitted that he obtained ninety bushels of corn to the acre. But what were we to do with the corn when made ? there was no market for it. By distilling it, we could make a market; then in public estimation there seemed no impropriety in doing so; and although now no thing eould induce me to engage in such a business, yet then we had no temperance societies or lectures to set forth the evil arising from the business. The idea of annihilating the manufacture seemed absurd; and if it must be made, it seemed of little consequence who made it.- The impro priety in the abstract was little thought of; especially while corn sold at sixteen cents per bushel, and whiskey at thirty cents per gallon; and one bushel of corn would make three gallons of whiskey. Since then four are obtained. But at three the value was increased over fivefold, and the slop fed to hogs would pay the expense of manufacturing. So at it we must go, was the conclusion. There were, however, no mills in the country to furnish lumber to build the dis tilleries or to grind the corn. Well, we must build one; the country needed one, and it would be profitable, without regard to our own demand for it. Now B thought, in this matter, one-fourth was too little for him; so it was agreed that I should be paid a thousand dollars per annum, and the improvements made be charged at valuation on one-half the land, the other half to be my private property, and we would share profits equally. So we commenced vigorously to build the steam-mill. At first scared at the idea that all my commissions and profits were to be absorbed by the purchase of the land, we had step by step gone on, sanguine that it would pay well to build a steam-mill and two very large dis tilleries, also a large dwelling-house, with various other THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 229 buildings. Our income and all my means were found insuf ficient to meet the cost, and we were getting hard run for money. But the pond being put in meadow promised a great result ; the saw-mill seemed to be doing a good busi ness, and the prospect was that the distilleries would do finely; so that, although "in the narrows" temporarily, the chance was we would soon be out, and with a brilliant pros pect before us. So our spirits never flagged. But we had to carry on all this business by agents and overseers, while we remained in Frankfort. To leave this matter now a while, and return to Frankfort ; there our business flourished as well as we could have hoped for. But the military surveys being now complete, and. the State of Kentucky refusing to allow any more warrants to be laid west of the Tennessee River, it became my duty to suggest to the Governor of Virginia the abolition of the office of military agent. Dur ing the same year, I made a report, which will be found in the Journal of the House of Delegates for 1824-5, in which I set forth the condition of those whose warrants were un provided for, and the very great injustice which would be suffered by them unless some provision was made for their benefit. As their services were rendered during the revo lutionary war, not to Virginia or Kentucky, but to the United States, it was just that the United States should pay them. In conformity to this suggestion, Blr. Gilmore was sent on to Washington to make application to Congress, which, deeming the demand a just one, granted it; and thus ended the necessity for continuing my office, which was accordingly abolished; but, in the usual spirit of Virginia generosity, she extended the time for its discontinuance six months forward, although there was nothing to do. I took this as a compli ment to my suggesting the abolition of the office, and point ing to another mode of accomplishing the object for which it was created; and have the satisfaction of knowing that the records of the Virginia Legislature will bear testimony 20 230^ THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. that I suggested the step which has procured the reward due to many a patriot for his revolutionary services. At this time we occupied a house for our office with four rooms on a floor, one of which was a lodging-room for friends. About 1825 or 1826, General Scott, being stationed in the West, made his head-quarters in Frankfort, and ac cepted our invitation to occupy our spare room. He spent some time with us, during which period we went together to the Harrodsburg Springs, taking a large company along, And we there had Blr. Crittenden, Judge Porter,* of New Orleans, General Samuel Houston, and a delightful company of young men and young ladies. But I am leaving a part of my story behind. CHAPTER XLVII. LOVE AFFAIRS. Two years had now nearly elapsed since I had left Virgi nia, during which time I was in constant correspondence with my friend G , who seemed fearful that my young affections would receive a shock which he was anxious to guard me against, and so informed me that Miss P was becoming a great toast, had a Mr. S as a suitor, who was considered one of the most promising young men in the State, and whose attentions seemed likely to be suc cessful. The condition of our business rendered it impos sible for me then to leave Kentucky, and the accounts I * Of all the men I ever met with, I considered Judge Porter one of the most finished gentlemen. Erudite, classical, chaste, witty, and elegantly humorous, there seemed nothing wanting to complete the polished and elegant gentleman. THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 231 received seemed to make it useless as far as Miss P was concerned. The warnings of my relatives and friends all recurred to me, and the more I thought of it, the more hopeless seemed to me the prospect of inducing her to leave all her friends, and come to a country which in Virginia was then considered so wild. I looked back with fond re gret upon the past as a delightful dream, the recollectios of which had filled me with happiness which made the contrast with my present condition the more gloomy. It was a wild idea for me to have entertained that she would leave all else she held dear on earth to come with me to Kentucky. But I had not entertained it. I had fixed no definite end to my hopes. I had seen, and been charmed by a beautiful child. To say I was in love with her would perhaps be putting the fruit in place of the seed. But I felt as if she filled the beau idiot of my fancy. Yet it was necessary to wean my thoughts as soon as I could; so I commenced looking round as a matter of business for a wife; and found one whose position in society, whose manners, intelligence, and beauty I thought would do, and settled it in, my own mind that I would take her; and courted her — but now, to my astonishment, I found that something more than my will was necessary; that it took two to make a bargain, and that two fancies had to be pleased, for she rejected me. I viewed this as a mere means of clinching the nail tighter, not thinking she could mean it in earnest, and it gave me but little concern; the effect upon me realized Byron's idea of woman's love : — r " In her first love a woman loves her lover, Ever after all she loves is love ; Which grows a passion, she can ne'er get over, And fits her loosely like an easy glove." Such was my case, and I concluded now to set to work in good earnest, for the first was a sort of trial-shot. There was, 232 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. however, a secret in the case which I was not then aware of. Her affections were already engaged. About this time, a Mr. Bl arrived in Frankfort from Petersburg, who told me that Blr. S and Bliss P were engaged to be married. I know not why it was, I had anticipated this, and believed it was almost certain to occur ; and yet it went like, cold steel to my heart to know it. Something in M 'a manner induced me to believe he thought I felt an interest in the result, and would report the effect upon me. My pride was excited, not in any resentment at Miss P , for the time I had fixed for my return had passed, and she had reason to suppose that I had forgotten her. But I was un willing it should be thought I had been supplanted by S ; so I assumed an air of carelessness, and remarked he would get a lovely girl, and took occasion to tell M , before we parted, that I was courting a lady in an adjoining county. This I knew he would report back, and " this would make us even." Such was my foolish pride — foolish, foolish, fool ish. But, although this story of her engagement continued afloat for six months longer, they still were not married. Something whispered me that there was a mystery about it, and although, if I had previously had a right to hope, I had cut myself off by courting Miss , still I could not help thinking why it was that they were not married. My interest about Bliss began to fail, and a letter I received from Virginia determined me to go in at once. I accordingly did so, and on arriving in Richmond was informed by my friend G that all I had heard was true, and that Miss P and Mr. S were certainly engaged. I determined, how ever, that I would go and see her, and went to Petersburg, arriving there about supper-time. My niece, Mrs. Bl , at whose house I stayed, informed me that all which I had heard was true, and that she and her suitor would be that evening at a ball. I determined to go to it. On entering the room, I observed Miss P ¦ THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 233 and Mr. S standing together in a cotillon. She had no idea that I was in Virginia; but, on perceiving me, quit her place and ran to greet me. There was something so artless, natural, and affectionate in her manner that it brought our former days freshly back to memory. She was now a woman, fully developed, and the most lovely human being my eyes ever rested on. Oh what a pity ! — what a pity, thought I, that I had not kept command of all my means, so as to go where I pleased. I would come to Virginia — I would go anywhere on earth — I would begin life without a dollar, if I could have her to share it with me. O what a fool — what a fool I had been ! She was now beyond my reach, and I believed I had myself only to thank for it. There was something in her sweet, affectionate smile which I thought I could not mistake. Nature was there unmistakably. My lovely little V , with whom I had skipped over the rocks in the Appomattox, was there in all her matured loveliness, and with that evi dence of affectionate interest in me which there is no coun terfeiting — but gone from me ! — gone forever ! — gone ! gone ! gone ! Such were the thoughts which flashed through my mind in an instant. The cotillon was just closing, and I asked her to dance the next, to which she assented. But we took our seats, there to rest until several had been danced. Delighted as I was to be with her, and to see her so much like her original self, yet the idea of her being beyond my reach filled me with a melancholy which I could not throw off. She rallied me about not returning as soon as I had promised. I named the unavoidable obstacles, until I heard that she was engaged to be married, and then I had no fur ther inducement to come. " But," said she, " you see I am still single, notwithstanding all reports to the contrary." " As yet" I replied. " But," said she, " suppose it had been otherwise, you would have no right to complain, for I understand you have been addressing a Bliss -, in Ken- 20* 234 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. tucky." This was a poser, and a death-stroke. I determined not to deny one word of what had happened. I answered, " Yes, she had heard aright, but never until I had heard that she was beyond my reach." At this reply, she seemed surprised, and looked a little thoughtful; but resuming, said, " You were very easily consoled, however." I answered, I was determined to be consoled, and to seek a remedy where I could find it. " And," she rejoined, " succeeded?" "No," I replied. " There is a tale connected with this matter only to be explained to one who will give me credit for sincerity, I am incapable o£ anything else, and if you feel inclined to hear me on those conditions, I will unbosom myself to you.'' To which she nodded assent. I then proceeded, as to a Ca tholic priest, and unburdened my whole heart, and related, in all their nakedness, the inducements to my every action, and all that I had done. She seemed a good deal affected; but finally remarked, that " one who was so much of a phi losopher could not be much hurt by any event." I replied she had perhaps forgotten that, when we had met before, she was a mere child, not old enough to have made the im pression which she would make now ; but, nevertheless, the impression then made would have sufficed to prevent any other, had I believed that, under the circumstances, it was not my duty to endeavor to efface it; that I had come now, very imprudently, to add new links to an attachment which must needs be hopeless, and I already felt a regret that I had been so thoughtless. Said she, " When we wish to find cause to forgive an offender, it is not a difficult task. I was sorry," she continued, " at what I had heard, and am quite willing to believe you sincere." " You do believe me, then ?" I asked eagerly. " As God is my witness, I am." " Yes," she replied, " I believe you." Oh how I wished we had been in private, that I might have sealed my gratitude as my heart prompted me. " Then tell me," I said, " is it true, as is generally reported, that you are to marry Blr. THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 235 S ?" " It is not," she answered. " It is very generally believed," I remarked. "But," she continued, "when I tell you it is not so, I expect you to believe me." " I will," was my reply, emphatically. We had now sat so long in earnest conversation that, to avoid remark, we had to join the dance. S , too, seemed very uneasy. Bliss P told me she should return home next day, S in company. I told her I had to go to Norfolk, but in a week would see her at her father's. At Norfolk, I received a letter from G , telling me he had heard of my adventures at the ball, and warning me ; that I was only laying up trouble for myself; that Miss P was certainly engaged to S , and was leading me a dance which would assuredly result in my mortification if I persisted in it; that he had it from S 's own mouth, and could not be mistaken. This was a most mysterious thing to me. She, who seemed so sincere, so natural, so innocent ! Was it possible she could be playing false with me ? It was evident she was playing false with one of us, and why might it not be me as well as S ? Oh ! the thought was horrible, take it either way. If not to me, there was an evident insincerity which took from her character half its loveliness. But I would know all about it before I went any further. I would first see S , and for this purpose went to Richmond, where I desired him to walk with me, We strolled up the canal. I remarked to him that I understood our interests came in conflict in a love affair, and I felt anxious to know the ground I stood upon; to ascertain which, I must know whether or not he was en gaged to Miss P . He answered that he was. I then told him that she had my affections, but that, if he was en gaged to her, I should abandon the field to him; that, never theless, I should first have an interview with her; that I would give him three days to see her, and then I should ex pect him to be absent when I should arrive. Accordingly, I went at the appointed time, and found S still there. I 236 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. reminded him of our understanding. He said he would leave next morning, and did so. Miss P 's reception of me had been very cordial, but she looked sad. She had evidently to me carried the joke too far, and was relenting. Soon after S 's departure, I proposed a walk. Hernsister Bl and Bliss C accompanied her, but kept at a distance. I told her I supposed she had been pre pared by Blr. S for my visit. She remained silent. I remarked that the opinion I had always entertained of her had left me no room to apprehend that she would wantonly trifle with my feelings. It was cruel, very cruel in her to do so, knowing as she did how sincerely I had loved her. The tears rolled down her cheeks, which she wiped away, but remained silent. Seeing her so much affected, I guessed that, although she was engaged, she was sorry for it. So I remarked to her that possibly she might regret having en gaged herself. If so, to tell me candidly. She said " she was engaged to Mr. S , but — " and here she again fell into tears. " But," said I, " you are sorry for it?" Still she made no answer. We walked along silently for a while, when I resumed : " Bliss V , I stand in a position which I cannot longer occupy. If you are en gaged, but regret it, and will say so, my life is at your service. But unless you let me know that fact before we reach your house, I shall again depart for Kentucky." She made an effort again to speak, and said, "It was true, she was engaged to Mr. S ; but — " and here she fell into tears again. We now approached the house. "Will you tell me or not ?" said I, with emphasis. She had wiped her eyes, made no reply, and we entered the porch. Her father and mother were present. No more conversation on that head was admissible, and I felt no inclination for any upon any other. I was very much perplexed to know what to do, but concluded that she knew the conditions on which she could retain me ; and, if she did not choose to do it, I would THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 237 be trifled with no longer. So I ordered my sulky. The old folks very politely asked me to stay, but I declined. While my sulky was being got, I took a letter from my pocket, tore - off a blank leaf, the envelop, and wrote upon it "A VISION." Methought, midst other flowers, I had seen Upon a stem yet delicate and tender, A rose-bud, coated o'er with mossy green, About unfolding all its wonted splendor. I would have pulled this rose-bud, and had laid My hand upon its stem, when in a tone Of deprecation, methought some voice said : Oh ! leave that rose until it shall have blown. Hearkening to the prayer, I left the flower, Hoping to pluck it when mature in blossom ; But ah ! it happened that in evil hour 'Twas plucked and planted in another's bosom. BIy horse being now at the door, I rose to take leave of the family, and, as I shook hands, left this effusion with her. I now drove to Petersburg full of gloom. Were my hopes at an end ? Could I push this thing any further with credit? My pride told me I could not. And yet, when I thought of giving her up and seeing her the wife of another, the future had no interest for me. It was dreary and desolate, and still I was possessed of the idea that she loved me. In a letter which I wrote to G from Petersburg, and which I re claimed many years after, occurs this passage : " S will marry her, I suppose; the fates seem to favor it; but I believe she loves me, though fate is against me." On my arrival in Petersburg, I related my adventures to Mr. M and his wife. He thought my conjecture was correct, and advised me not to give up the case as a lost one. I remained several days in Petersburg. During the time, an old lady from General P 's jjeighborhood came to 238 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. Petersburg, said she spent a good deal of time in General P 's family, and, if she was not more mistaken than she ever was in her life, Bliss P was in love with Mr. T . Blr. M heard of it, and advised me not to give up the ship. But his wife said to me, " Oh ! Uncle R , let me beg of you do not be misled by any such notions. Bliss P is, probably, sorry for having gone so far with you, and that was, probably, the cause of the feeling she showed ; but I think you cannot, with any regard to your own self-respect, carry this thing any further." Such was my own feeling, though at war with my inclinations. But I made a manly effort to command myself; went to Norfolk, where my friends agreed with my niece, and determined me to abandon the matter. The fact is, ladies have a great deal of pride about such matters. My relatives could not bear the mortification of seeing me rejected, and were, therefore, opposed to any further action on my part, and excited my pride against it. I returned to Richmond, determined to go back to Kentucky, and to com mand myself as well as I could. But to gain time to recover from the shock, I circled round, by way of New York and New England, mixing as much as my spirits would allow of, with gay company. Returned to Kentucky, I kept my disappointment as much to myself as I could, and a mass of business awaiting my attention, aided very much in withdrawing my thoughts from the subject; although the very frock which she wore, and every article of dress were vividly fixed upon my memory, together with all which had passed between us. At night, when I would retire to bed, I could not avoid going over the scenes again. But press of business kept me, generally, up until twelve or one o'clock, and I was apt to be too sleepy when I retired to keep long awake. Gradually I became, in a measure, reconciled to what seemed the inexorable de cree of fate. « THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. ^89 CHAPTER XLVIII. T. G 'S VISIT TO KENTUCKY — DISCOVERY OF A COAL-MINE. During this year, G came out and went with me to the Yellow Banks, where, witnessing all our arrangements, he seemed delighted, and thought they must result as we expected. Indeed, there seemed no reason to doubt it, as far as human calculation could go. We had, after several ineffectual efforts, finally succeeded in getting much of our drained pond set in grass, and it yielded a tremendous crop of hay — three tons to the acre. We had discovered coal in our Bonharbor hills, too ; the coal for which I purchased the property was only a thin vein at the river. But a hunter, seeing us working this, said he could show us a better vein in the hills, which he did, to the depth of four and a half feet. And from this to the Ohio, three-quarters of a mile, we made the first railway in 1826 which was made in Kentucky, or, I believe, in the West; and the next year (the present) commenced delivering coal to steam-boats ; being the first attempt below the falls, if not the first attempt in the West, to use coal as steam-boat fuel. The field seemed widening all around us, and the-"beckoning of fortune strong. There seemed every reason to believe we were stepping right into wealth at once. But we began to have too many irons in the fire. Our business at the Yellow Banks dis tracted our attention from our land business; and while it as yet yielded no revenue, it was a constant drain upon us for 240 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. money, and kept us hard pushed ; a condition inimical to success under any circumstances. I proposed to G to come out and join us in our farming, milling, and distilling business. He thought well of it, and took it into consideration. CHAPTER XLIX. A SPECULATION MISSED — PROGRESS OF OUR BUSINESS- LOVE STORY CONTINUED — MARRIAGE. During this year, I met with , of Woodford County, representative of the family owning the Raleigh coal-mines in Chesterfield County, Virginia, which he wished to sell, and offered for $20,000. I knew the mines, and considered this a very small price for them. I proposed trading him land at valuation out of P 's survey for them, provided P was willing, to which he seemed inclined ; but I had first to obtain instructions, so I wrote to G , in Kich- mond, he having returned. His reply was that P said the mines were filled with water, and could not be drained for less than a cost of $10,000. I still urged it, however. But, while we delayed, Mr. Mills, of Richmond, purchased them ; and, after draining them at probably half the esti mated cost, obtained a revenue of fifty thousand dollars per annum from them until he made money enough to retire, and then rented them for thirty thousand dollars. During this year, B married a daughter of Judge B , and moved down to our establishment, which was still in progress, absorbing all our means and getting us in debt, and the demand was still upon me for money — money — money — always money. But there was a consolation in the idea that the day for a change in the tide could not be THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 241 far off; yet, like the horizon, it seemed to recede as we advanced. All my private means were- absorbed, besides the means of the firm, and we were a good deal in debt. We had raised almost a town. Our coal-works too had cost a great deal of money. But we were in negotiation with G — — and my brother J , to sell to them one-third of Haphazard for $13,333, at the rate of $40,000 for the whole; this being our farming, milling, and distilling establishment. And this arrangement would, if made, relieve us. About this time, G wrote me that Bliss P had discarded Mr. S . The idea struck me that she had found some one that she liked better, and so had dropped him. A month or two after this, a lady in Frankfort, who had some relatives in Petersburg with whom she corre sponded, told me one day she had a message for me from an old friend in Petersburg, and that if I would call upon her she would deliver it to me. I called accordingly, and a Doctor M , an old friend of mine, desired her to say to me that S was discarded, and the coast was clear. "Now," said she, "you know that I know how deeply you are interested in this matter." I replied that I did not deny it, but that this argued nothing in my favor, but to the reverse. It only showed how hard Miss P was to please, or possibly how fickle. We had a good deal of conversation, which ended by my stating that my feelings had been already lacerated sufficiently in that quarter, and that I should not return. Occasional letters from G mentioned that, since S 's rejection, she seemed to shun company, and to have measurably retired from society. This lady and I often talked of Miss P , and she seemed to feel deeply for me; but I was of the opinion that it was Miss P 's fickleness, and I was not disposed to hazard a rebuff. Should I do so, it would seem that I could be kicked off, and whistled on again at pleasure, to be again probably kicked off, and I would run no such hazard. Thus matters 21 242 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. continued for some time, until finally I received a letter from G , mentioning that he had spent the previous evening in company with a Miss R , who asked him if he knew me, to which he replied in the affirmative. She said she felt some curiosity to see me from a romantio story which was in circulation, concerning me and Miss P ; that it was said Mr. S 's rejection was owing to a previous attach ment existing between Miss P and myself. "Now," said G , "this may be so; you know I was very much averse to your subjecting yourself to what I considered certain defeat, and may have been instrumental in prevent ing your taking the right course when last here. I submit," said he, " the matter for your reflection." I shut my door, stirred the fire, and lay down on my bed to reflect upon the subject; and after due deliberation rose and wrote toir as follows, as nearly as I can recollect: — "I have read your letter with deep anxiety, as you may imagine, with deep concern considered its contents, and have come to the following conclusion : My opinion is that there has been a chapter of blunders on my part in this business from beginning to end. I have carefully considered all the circumstances, upon the supposition that Bliss P has been sincere with me in all our intercourse, and that my own doubts and suspicions have produced the results that have happened ; and, taking this view, there is an explanation for everything which has occurred. I have supposed, on the other hand, that she was merely fickle and changeable, and there is a want of explanation for a part of her conduct, and I will now give you my reasons: When informed that I was addressing another lady in Kentucky, and when the time had elapsed for my return to Virginia, she had good reason to presume that I had given up all idea of her. As I ascertained when I went in, the engagement which I had supposed had taken place a long while before, had not occurred as I supposed, and my courting the lady in Ken- THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 243 tucky, under the impression that Bliss P was engaged to another, was upon erroneous grounds, and it was after this that she became engaged. Now, suppose all to have been as I wished it, as to her feelings for me, would not her pride have come to her aid, and when addressed by a gentleman of the first standing, and considered of great public promise, aided by the influence of friends who wished to settle her near them, have probably induced her to engage herself? Nothing would be more natural, and I would certainly have no cause to complain. But when I went in, and an explana tion took place as to the circumstances under which I had seemed to have played truant, her feelings relented, her former affection returned, and she determined to break off the engagement with S and marry me. But in the belief that she was engaged to another, that I was preparing a mortification for myself by pursuing my addresses, the let ters and opinions of my friends, earnestly expressed, so ex cited my resentment and suspicions that I was played falsely with, in a moment of folly, I determined to see S , and know the truth of the whole matter. He confirmed the sus picions of my friends, and I, instead of going to see Bliss P at once, gave S three days' notice to prepare her for my interview, and to operate upon her feelings. Then I went under great excitement at the idea of having been trifled with, and with my feelings predisposed for a rupture. Now, doubtless, S— — - had made the best use of his time, aided by the influence of those who preferred having her settled among them in Virginia, to marrying me and coming to Kentucky. She was alone, to withstand the operations of many upon her; and young and timid as she was, she could hardly have been expected to withstand them. But when charged with being engaged, and wantonly trifling with my feelings, she had twice attempted to explain, but been overpowered by her tears; and under these circumstances I left her. When I now review my conduct, it seems to me that my stupidity 244 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. was unaccountable. Again, the old lady who said she be lieved I had her affections, although 8 might marry her— how came she by this opinion ? There must have been some thing to found it on. That I should have, under all the circumstances, abandoned the ground, is only to be accounted for by the doubts which my friends had started, causing me to apprehend that I was probably deceived. A man may be embarrassed by accumulated difficulties, until, like a horse beaten over the head, he loses all the sense he ever had, and such I believe was my case. I gave evidencein my letter no the occasion to you, that I believed I possessed her affections. " But now, after my departure, what excuse can be offered for her continuing her engagement with S ? Because my conduct had been harsh and imperious, and she was deter mined to love S if she could; but was ultimately satis fied she could not, and had discarded him. Now, if she had been a mere coquette, what would have been her conduct? Would she not have triumphed in her conquest, and have mixed with the gay world as ever ? Did she do so ? No, she retired from society; and then a report becomes general that a long previous attachment between her and myself was the cause of S 's rejection. If this was false, it was easy for her to put it down. One word of positive denial from her would do it. Can it be that she would be willing to inflict still a deeper wound upon me by luring me on again, under the influence of this report, only to be rejected? No; her gentle nature would scorn it. " Those may be the views suggested by my hopes, rather than the reality. I may be giving vent to an evidence of my vanity, and preparing for myself a woful disappoint ment. But if it comes, let it come. Bly happiness has been already much shattered by over-doubting, as I conceive, and I will err on that ground no more. I love Miss P devotedly, and should it ever be the decree of fate to unite us, I shall consider myself the happiest of men. For a long THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 245 time I considered her as dead to me; my heart mourned her loss. To have her now restored will be like bringing the dead to life. To you who know my every feeling, it were useless to say how your letter has affected me, and I have determined to commission you to see her, and hand her the inclosed ring, as a pledge of my affection. If she re tains it, I shall immediately come in. If she returns it, I shall view it as a warning to me not to do so, and I shall endeavor to bear my sorrows as best I can. With what anxiety I shall look for an answer, you may well imagine. "Your friend, &c." Having dispatched this letter, I awaited an answer with great impatience, which at last came, and informed me that G had been to" Petersburg; had seen Miss P ; men tioned that he had lately received a letter from me; and was inclined to -believe that I had not yet forgotten all my Virginia friends. Her manner, he said, satisfied him that I had taken the correct view of the case, and he finally told her that he had a letter from me, which he was charged to deliver to her, and requested her to retire to her room and read it, and then return. She took it, retired, and in about fifteen minutes a female servant came in, hoped Blr. G would excuse Bliss P , as she did not feel well; and he retired, came over to Richmond, and sat down to write me that letter. "Now, sir," said he, " as she has kept both the letter and the ring, I think you may venture to indulge the hope that your sug gestions are correct." I now prepared to go in, and wrote B accordingly. In the mean time, our negotiation for a sale of one-third of Hap hazard had been progressing, and was likely to be consum mated, which was very important to the end then in view. On seeing G , he congratulated me heartily; thought I was not mistaken; and I was soon in Petersburg with my niece, who had become satisfied that she had been wrong. I flew 21* 246 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. to Gen. P 's as fast as a horse and sulky could carry me, arriving there just at night. She was at home in tho midst of the family, and from the manner in which she and all the family received me, I was satisfied all was right. There was a smile which I can never forget. It was the smile of true love; there was no mistaking it. It seemed to me that she had determined to disguise nothing. When supper was over, we were left alone in the par lor; where, seating myself beside her on the sofa and taking her hand in mine, I remarked, squeezing her hand, that I hoped we were through with our chapter of accidents and blunders. She answered me by a gentle squeeze of the hand. I asked her, if I had not divined aright in my let ter ? "Not quite," she replied. " Wherein was I wrong?" "In regard to my engagement." "Were you not engaged?" said I. " Yes," she replied ; " but my motives for continu ing it you have not rightly divined." " Where did I err ?" "Ah, we will at a future day explain this; let us leave that subject now." I was now one of the happiest of living men, and asked her how it happened that we had so much misunderstood each other. She said I had divined the truth, with great correctness in the first part of my letter, up to our meeting at the ball. "As you said, our former feelings had taken then no definite shape ; 1 had reason to believe you were partial to me, but you had never told me so — it was my conjecture only, and yet, in my simplicity of heart, I did not conceal my partiality for you from my family, who laughed at me for it, and said they doubted if you ever thought of me. This mortified me exceedingly, and when the time passed for your return, and you did not come back, I saw, as I thought, that my family were right; but when Blr. M returned from Kentucky, and brought the news that you were court ing another lady, then my hopes vanished. I had planted a little geranium in a pot, and named it after you. I had THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 247 watered and nourished it, despite the jeers of my family ; and now I felt no longer any interest in it ; and it soon died — an emblem of your affections" — looking me a little re proachfully in the face. " It was well that our acquaintance had been so short. Mr. S now making his addresses, he had been a long time attentive to me, I did not dis courage them, and finally engaged myself. When you un expectedly appeared at the ball in Petersburg, and gave the explanation which you did, there was something in your manner which told me you were sincere. I believed you, and was willing to forgive you all your sins. Bly vanity, too, told me that you still loved me. I thought it was evident from your countenance and manner, and all my old feelings came back. You told me you had heard I was going to marry S , and asked me if it was so ; I told you it was not true, and yet I was at that time engaged to him. But my heart told me I would not marry him. I was not in sincere in engaging myself to him. I then intended to marry him ; but this night my mind had changed, and had you come calmly, and seen me, and we had had a deliberate talk on this'subject, things would have been then all explained. But you sent Blr. S to notify me that you were off, and would come on such a day to take leave of me forever, in a manner such as I thought one could not do who truly loved ; and, having a pretty good stock of pride, and some spirit, I determined you might have your own way. But when you came, although it was clear you were greatly excited, yet you were respectful, and evidently felt so deeply that you excited my feelings, and I twice attempted an explana tion, but could not go through. On nearing the porch, you demanded an answer rather imperiously ; if I could have given it, I would not; and you departed. My pride sus tained me for a time, but not so well that suspicions did not get afloat that I was attached to you. I now know not what to do. I did not do- right, I know. But let us drop 248 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. the veil here. I became in time satisfied that, if I married Mr. S , I should give him my hand without my heart; we should be both miserable, and with great reluctance I had to discard him. "I knew how I now stood in public opinion; they could not know everything; explanations were inadmissible, and I had to bear the odium of being an unfeeling coquette — a character which I do abhor — and, to clear myself from it, I had to confess to some of my nearest friends the real state of the case, with an injunction to defend me, but not to give the explanation. But such things cannot be concealed, and soon a report of the real truth was in general circulation. I cared but little about it, for I had determined never to marry. A friend told me, one day, that he had a letter from a friend of his in Kentucky. I immediately thought it was you, and, although I was dying to know, I feigned a perfect indifference, and asked 'who from?' He said, 'a lady,' and handed it to me. The lady said she had seen you, and informed you that S was discarded; that you looked sad, and said, ' What a pity that one so young and lovely otherwise, should have that unfortunate trait !' The lady said she asked you what trait. You answered, coquetry; she suggested may-be not; and advised you to come in, and see. You answered, she said, with great determination, No ! your feelings had been already lacerated enough ; you should not expose them to any further trial ; and she wound up by saying, you were a man of fixed purpose, resolute in your conclusions, and she rather feared you would not be driven from them. Although I did not know that this letter had been written to Kentucky, I felt mortified, for fear you might think I did, and expressed my very great disapprobation at it. He assured me, however, that there was nothing in his from which you could suppose any such thing, and he was only induced to show me the answer, that I might see the state of your feelings. Then, thought I, he deems it even THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 249 needless to conceal from me that he knows mine. When he had retired, I went to my room, and took a hearty cry. ' Oh, how little does he know my real feelings ; how far my heart is from being' the callous one which he suspects; and how little of coquetry there is in my character !' But," she continued, " I could see you as plainly as if I had been present. I saw that high metal of your nature ; your pride, summoned to bear you out; and my own heart said to me, 'No, he will never comeback; I know him too well; he thinks he has been trifled with, and will never return. Be it so,' said I ; ' but the day may probably come when he will find out better;'' and I resigned myself to the necessities of the case. Some months after this, Mr. G came with your letter to him, which you desired him to show me. In that, you came so near the whole truth of the case that I won dered you could have ever doubted. After reading it, I was so overpowered that I asked to be excused from going down again, but kept the letter and the ring. I now saw your whole heart — that it was mine, and determined that I would let no foolish punctilio cause me to hazard the loss of it again ; but that the first opportunity which occurred after you came in, I would confess to you the whole truth. This I have now done !" Lost in admiration at her confiding candor, I could for a moment make no reply. "Then (stealing a kiss), my own dear V ," said I, "how much injustice have I done you! Oh, how could you love one so unworthy of you ? I am not worthy of such pure feelings as yours ; I do not deserve them. You have erred in nothing, in the whole history of our troubles, but in loving one who now sees how unworthy he has been of you." "Let us," said she, "forget the past, and try to do better in future, though, I confess, I think I have some cause to fear your impetuosity of disposition." " Were I as ferocious as a lion," I replied, " I would be a lamb in your hands. You can lead me, and mould me 250 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. as you please. To love you, and minister to your comfort, will be the greatest happiness of my life." " And you will doubt no more ?" she said. " Never !" I replied. The very word was hateful to me. Thus we talked until midnight, and I grudged the hours which we had to be parted for sleep. If ever man overflowed with happiness, I now did, I went to bed, but I could not sleep. Oh, I was too happy ! Was it a vision, or a reality ? It seemed to concentrate too much of felicity to be real. With but little sleep I passed the night, and rose late next morning. The old folks jeered us about keeping late hours. After breakfast, the general invited me to accompany him in his usual ride over his farm, and, while sitting close to gether, viewing some of his cattle, I thought it a fit occasion to open the subject of my attachment for his daughter, and began, in a very stammering way, to tell him I had for a long time been attached to her. " Bly dear fellow," said he, laying his hand on my knee, "I am not ignorant of it, and have for some time anticipated this result. It is my rule to let my children choose for themselves ; I would have been better satisfied had you lived in Virginia; but since my daughter is satisfied, her will be done." On returning to the house, I told V that I had spoken to her father, and that he had said, " Her will be done," "Why," said she, with affected surprise, "who authorized you?" " Like the Yankee," I replied, " I am good at guessing." " Well," she remarked, "I told mamma this morning of our last evening's conversation, and of my confessions to you, and she said I had acted very imprudently." " V ," I observed, taking her hand, "you never appeared so lovely to me as while making that confession. It showed to me the entire sincerity of your character; and, if I had ever sus pected anything like coquetry, it dispelled the fear forever. Could I have loved you more than I did, that confession would have caused me to do so!" "I think," said she, THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 251 " the time for concealment between you and me is passed. I acted upon the presumption that we now" thoroughly under stood each other, for the want of which I had nearly been another's, and you also ; when, if we had really known each other's feelings, this would not have been. I therefore con cluded, as I felt certain of*your affections now, that you were entitled to a confession of mine, in frankness and candor, and that I hazarded nothing in making the confession. This I told mamma, and she said she admitted I hazarded nothing; but that you gentlemen were such queer animals, that it was neces sary to keep you a little uneasy to make you love the harder (smiling as she said so) ; that hope gratified, was apt to lose its interest, and that it wa,s impolitic ever to let you feel too secure." " Ah ! V ," said I, squeezing her hand, and looking her in the face, with all the affection with which my heart over flowed, " I must beg leave to differ with your mother on this subject; there is too much diplomacy in her philosophy for the love of two confiding hearts. There is a time during which her philosophy would be admissible, that is, so long as any doubt exists; or, when no doubt exists, provided there is less intensity in the gentleman's love than the lady thinks she has a right to expect. But do you think so of mine ?" She answered, with a sweet smile, "No;" but she con tinued, "You have a remarkable self-command for a gentle man very deeply in love. Do you think, had you loved as hard as you ought (smiling), that you would have allowed any business to detain you beyond the two years from our first acquaintance, when you promised to be back ? I waive what followed after, as the consequence of unfounded reports which had reached your ears concerning me ; but I confess for the first sin, I have had my doubts whether your expla nations should have been considered satisfactory to one whose judgment was less partial to you than mine." I answered, " I am glad of an opportunity to recur 'again 252 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. to this circumstance. The truth is my own diffidence was at the bottom of it, aided by the doubts which my friends had started in regard to the willingness of your parents to let you go to Kentucky. My nearest friends charged me not to let my feelings get the better of me, or they would receive an awful mortification. I started doubting, and con tinued doubting, until the two years ran out, when my busi ness was in such a condition that it would have been almost ruin to have abandoned it, and when there had been no in terchange of sentiments between us, on which I could rely, for evidence that the feelings I had imbibed were reciprocated." "And you dou-bted their existence," said she, with an in credulous smile. " I had hoped, when we parted, that you felt some interest for me," I continued. "I believe you did; but you were then a mere child. What assurance could I have that it would continue until you were grown ? But, if it did, my discretion told me that your friends would not let you go to Kentucky with me, considering it, as they, did, a wild country." " And so," she remarked, " when your pru dence takes the seat of judgment to sit in council over your love affairs, it is capable of weighing matters very delibe rately, and of directing your conduct very wisely ?" " While I have yet my self-possession," I replied, "yes. There is a time, in every man's love affairs, before he has gone too far, when he can restrain himself, if he has fortitude enough. Some there are who are all passion and impulse, and know no restraint to their inclinations. The impetuosity of such men is like the fire from a tar barrel — furious at first, but soon over. I claim to have as much feeling as they have; but I also claim the power, in some degree, to control it, when common sense told me it would be folly to indulge it. This folly, I was led to believe, I would show by hoping, after our first interview, that you would leave all your friends to go with me to Kentucky, and, under that impression, I could control my feelings. But now, when I believe that THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 253 that consideration imposes no bar, and I have yielded all constraint, my affections have so thoroughly gone over to you, that you have become the light and life of my existence. Were anything now to occur to break off our union, I believe I should go deranged." "Poor fellow!" said she, with a sort of mock compassion. "Well, you sha'n't go deranged. I will now go further in my confessions than I have done, It is some time since my parents have believed that we would some day be united, and they wished me to exact of you, as a condition, that you should come to Virginia to live, saying,' if you loved me as you ought, you would do so. But I re plied ' No. He relies, doubtless, on his business in Kentucky for a living, and must leave it if he comes to Virginia. I will not make any such condition.' " My heart was so full that I could only look at her without speaking. " And," she continued, "there never was a time, from our first sepa ration, when, if you had approached me respectfully, con fidingly, and affectionately, I would not have agreed to go to Kentucky with you." Filled to overflowing before, the tears now ran down my cheeks, I clasped her in my arms, and could only say, " God bless you, V ." Neither of us spoke for some time. Finally, I remarked, it was true that I had to rely upon my business in Kentucky for a support; but I would make this promise: If she would be content, for five years, to live in Kentucky, I would then lay the whole state of my affairs before her, and if she was of opinion that we ought to leave Kentucky and come to Virginia, I would do so. "Well," she replied, "if you can, I shall be happy; if not, I will endeavor to be contented." We now retired to bed, I grudging the hours that we should be separated. When we met next day, and were alone (the old folks were very considerate, seldom interrupting us), I said to her, " Well, V , did you receive another lecture on caution ?" " Oh no," she replied; "I told mamma of your able defence, 22 254 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. and she said she believed you were a very sincere, clever fellow." During the day, Blrs. P was much with me. She sat and chatted with great interest for hours, and I confess with so much interest to me that I did not regret the loss of her daughter's society. After she left me, V came, a space of some fifteen minutes intervening. " You and ma," said she, " have had a long talk." "Yes," I replied; "and with so much in terest to me that I did not regret the time which she kept me from your society." " Then you were equally pleased, for she is quite in raptures with you." An idea came across my mind which made me smile, which remarking, she asked me what amused me. I answered, " I was about to reply to your remark by repeating a Western maxim, but thought it rather coarse for the occasion." " Oh, well," she ob served, " let me have it." " It is, ' If you wish to catch the calf, you must give the cow a nubbin.' " She seemed ex ceedingly diverted, and said, " Then you have been feeding ma on nubbins, have you?" My business required my presence in Richmond; but be fore going I was anxious to have the day for our wedding fixed, and urged that it might not be needlessly delayed, as my business was suffering during my absence in Kentucky. V said she would consult her mamma, and let me know on my return. I went to Richmond, and was now anxious to bring to a close the negotiation for the sale of one-third of Haphazard. But this could not then be done. My bro ther J said, however, that he would advance me two thousand dollars upon it; which he did, and this answered my present necessities. I went to Tichenor, the carriage- maker, and ordered him to build me a very handsome car riage. I set about hunting up a pair of horses, and acci dentally found such exactly to suit my taste. They were of deep orange color, with flaxen manes and tails, sixteen hands THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 255 high, beautifully formed, and though remarkably well broken were very spirited. I could not have been better suited. In all these arrangements I was aided by my friend G , whose talent seemed peculiar for administering to his friends' comforts. He was himself very much in love with a young lady in Richmond, and had been so for several years; but some difficulties had occurred between him and his Dulcinea, which, as usual, had produced misunderstandings, and pre vented their marriage. I determined to set to work to make things smooth, and finally succeeded. I now went to Norfolk to see my friends there. But one was wanting, whose smile had always given a burnish to all my enjoyments. My aged mother had died about a year before. Not being satisfied away from my beloved V , I soon returned to her, and was informed that she had fixed on a day unreasonably distant for our marriage. I protested against it, and by urgent entreaty got her to shorten it. I did not nanie having ordered a carriage and purchased the horses. , I designed these as a surprise. V told me she had seen my friend Judge B since my departure, who had joked her about our engagement. " And you ad mitted it?" said I. "No," she replied. "I asked him if he thought I was wild enough to leave all my friends in Vir ginia to go to Kentucky." " And what did he say ?" " Oh," she replied, " I am afraid I should make you very vain if I were to tell you. The judge seems as much in love with you as" — here, stopping and smiling, I ended the sentence for her — "as I wish you to be." "Yes," she replied; "he said I might well afford to go to Kentuck, or two tucks beyond Kentuck, with so clever a fellow." " Well done for the judge; I must thank him for that; his good opinion is worth having." (It may be thought rather immodest in me to insert such a remark here; but my object is to state facts as nearly as they occurred, as I can recollect them. Were 256 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. I to omit all remarks complimentary to myself, it would evi dence a fastidiousness uncalled for, besides taking from the story much of its interest; and for one to be vain of remarks which are the ordinary parlance of society, would show that he did not know how to value language at its current rate in the market.) It would be needless to detail the incidents which occurred between now and the time of our marriage. I was as happy as I could be with the conviction that I was beloved by a girl of exquisite beauty, as refined in her tastes as she was beautiful, whose reading seemed to have been as general as her years would admit of, and who seemed to have digested well all that she read. Her soft, confiding, affectionate disposition was the jewel of her character. It was such as I have never seen surpassed in any human being —the whole surmounted by a stock of good, strong common sense, which pointed out to her the course of propriety, under all circumstances, and fitted her equally well for the palace or the cottage. During her life, I never saw her in any so ciety where her soft, winning, and elegant manners would not have distinguished her. I never saw her overshadowed by a superior, and withal she was without one particle of os tentation. So winning were her manners, that even those who would have shone but for her presence, but whose lights were thereby darkened, loved her. I had to provide six bridesmen to match her six brides maids. I wanted a private wedding; but the old folks would not hear of it; and on the wedding-day some twenty car riages drove into the yard ; among the rest mine with my brother's family, with the following motto on it : " Doubt, and fail." V was now dressed for the wedding, and we sat together some time before it took place. There was a happy sadness upon her countenance which was averse to conversation. I did not attempt to break in upon it, and we were required finally to go below and meet the parson. She THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 257 trembled like a little bird; but soon we were down, and soon the happy knot was tied. Now my bliss was complete. How extraordinary is the capacity of a country-house for accommodation ! That night seventy persons slept in the house, all in comfort; whereas in a city, it would have been thought difficult to accommodate twenty in it. CHAPTER L. DEPARTURE WITH MY WIFE FOR KENTUCKY. After remaining about a week, we took our departure for Petersburg and Richmond, partaking of the good dinners and general hospitality of our friends in each. An event now occurred which cast a gloom over my otherwise unalloyed happiness. Miss L , to whom G was engaged, had persuaded him not to go to Kentucky, and consequently the sale of one-third of Haphazard, which I had considered cer tain, now failed. This was truly unfortunate, for it was less the help which the money would bring us, upon which I relied for success, than G 's untiring energy and perseverance. He took hold of things with a determination to make them succeed, and this trait commanded success. Enthusiasm may overleap the mark, but no great enterprise was ever carried without it; and the phlegmatic man who has none, however capable he may be, is entirely unfit to stand at the helm of such an enterprise. I felt a fear that we now wanted a hand who could not be obtained, and that for want of the vigorous undying energy necessary to drive our Haphazard business forward as it required, some "screws would get loose." It will be generally found, I might say universally, that that business succeeds best where there is a 22* 258 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. driving of the business by the conductors, and not a driving of the conductors by the business. The carriage should never run upon the horses' heels, but the horses be kept at such a gait as to secure a tight trace; only then can the driver guide them with safety. Unfortunate as the event was, it could not be helped, and I had to yield to the unavoidable necessity of the case. But besides the loss of Q 's aid, the loss of the purchase-money was a serious one; $13,333 would have made us easy, have given means to complete our works, and have driven them on to good effect, but now I foresaw we were to be sorely cramped. Bly bro ther had the, offer of a loan of $5,000 for many years until certain heirs came of age. This he borrowed and loaned to us, as some compensation for the disappointment; but it was not enough to suffice for our wants. The prospect now made me gloomy, and the leaving of her friends made V so, when all my cheerfulness was needed to keep up her spirits. I rallied as best I could, however, and we finally took our departure for Kentucky, by way of Charlottesville, Staunton, the White Sulphur Springs, Kenawha and Maysville. Our first day's journey was in silence and gloom ; V resting her head upon my shoulder, while I supported her with my arm. I had been compelled to purchase a capacious, strong buggy, to aid in taking our baggage. In this buggy we occasion ally took shelter from the confinement of the carriage, and the change was very agreeable. After leaving the White Sulphur Springs, the country became daily wilder, and gave a promise of meeting the full idea of the general under standing in Virginia of what Kentucky then was, when we reached the Hawk's Nest, on New River, a point at which I had before tarried for hours to enjoy its romantically wild scenery; and the view from which is sublime to one in a con dition to enjoy it. Now, while I was afraid of everything which would tend to increase the apprehensions of V ,it had lost all its charms for me. The rocky banks, or rather solid THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 259 perpendicular rocks from one to two thousand feet high — the foaming, bounding waters below — the otherwise wild and awful stillness which prevailed around — the dark channel of the departing waters, going off in the direction that we were travelling, looked to me frightful. As we descended the mount ain, into the deep gloomy abyss below, the trees and vines overhanging the road, and closing overhead, so as almost to exclude daylight, made it seem as if we were descending from the surface of the earth into Syms's Hole. Dear V , she seemed to nestle closer and closer to me as our road became darker, like a frightened partridge. I could not help wondering, if she could have foreseen this frightful wild ness, would it not have staggered her resolution in regard to marrying me. But no, I am sure it would not; for, while she seemed awfully impressed with it, yet she seemed happy in having me as her protector, believing that no harm could befall her while I was near. Yet when we reached the mouth of Gauly, where it empties into the Kenawha, and had to stay all night in a miserable hovel there, my own heart sunk within me. We could go no further. It was dark, and we had to put up at the most uncomfortable house that ever decent people entered. We' were put to sleep in a loft, the roof covered with clapboards, coming down within a few feet of our heads, the bed, as we evidently felt, filled with vermin, and we had no chance to escape. V asked me what she sfcould do, saying she could not sleep, and I saw she could not help weeping. I told her it was a most unfor tunate thing we had been compelled to stop here, but I could see no help for it. The proprietors seemed very rough, and I did not like to offend them, for they would as soon turn us out of doors as not. We had to endure it until morning; there was no avoiding it, but we were off as soon as we could see to drive. " Well, Mr. T ," said V , " surely things are now at their worst ; there can be no stage of society below this?" I told her she had seen the worst; I would guaran- 26jO THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. tee she should never, during her life, sleep in such a hovel again, although there were some awfully rough and wild places all along the road to Maysville. CHAPTER LI- ARRIVAL AT KENAWHA — THE SALT BUSINESS — BEAUTIFUL COUNTRY IN KENTUCKY — CHARACTER OF KENTUCKIANS. We soon came in sight of the smoke of the Kenawha furnaces, which was very cheering. Here nature, in one of her most benevolent freaks, has seemed to try how far she could favor the salt-makers. Here is salt water so strong that it will hardly dissolve any more salt; and coal right on the spot to manufacture it, with navigation at their doors. This would seem to be all that nature could have done; but, in boring to a very great depth, some of the wells penetrated a vein of hydrogen gas, which poured up in such a stream as to furnish sufficient fuel to manufacture the salt; so that, in fact, the maker has only to clear the kettles, and barrel it. It was a few years before the time I am now Writing of, that I travelled from Maysville to Kenawha, in company with a Mr. Grant, a man of fine, natural ga»d sense, with a very clear perception of the best adaptation of means to ends. He was a salt manufacturer, and the salt business was in a state of great depression, from the very excess of the advantages which they possessed. They made an over stock for the supply of the country— the salt became a drug, and all the manufacturers were embarrassed. Grant conceived the idea of forming a company to monopolize the business. Being joined by a Mr. Ruffner, and others, he agreed with all the salt-makers that, for a certain number of years, pro- THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 261 vided they would each agree to diminish their products a cer tain percentage, allowing a given amount to be made in pro portion to the capacity of the works, this company would buy it all at a given price per bushel. He also had arrangements for securing the purity of the salt, which had, until then, been very impure; he being considered the best salt-boiler who could boil up the greatest amount of " bitter water" in the salt, thereby making it weigh the heavier. This purify ing process was much for the advantage of the public, and very necessary to the sale of the Kenawha salt, as the Zanes- ville was considered much purer, and would, on that account, be preferred to the extent that it could be had. Grant & Co. now appointed agents in all the western towns, and sent on supplies of salt, limiting the price to fifty cents per bushel, being about double what they gave. The sales were enor mous, and the profits in proportion. When this lease ran out, the lessees had made a very large fortune; the manufac turers, jealous of their success, would not renew it, and again fell back into their old condition. Being again tired of this, after a while they rented to Hewit, Ruffner, & Co., with a re sult of equal good fortune to them. Mr. Hewit had married Mr. Grant's daughter, was a man of fine judgment, great enterprise, takes pride in recurring to his early days, -and showing how he has regularly ad vanced. With this view he has hung up in his parlor, a few miles above Louisville, the painting of a raft just in the act of landing at Louisville, upon which a friend of his and himself are seen in their shirt-sleeves, busily engaged in securing the raft which belongs to them. He points to this as his beginning in life. But his friend, whose likeness is very striking, being rather more aristocratic in his notions, I understand, does not feel complimented by being so exhi bited. Now I confess I am of Hewit's school, and prefer to have been the maker of my own fortune to having inherited it. Any simpleton may inherit a fortune; but it is an evi- 262 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. dence of some mind in a man who makes one. A man, to be sure, may make a fortune without much sense if he has capital to start on. He may sit down in a corner, and act the usurer. Or he may confine himself industriously to any one pursuit in which he may have been raised, the details of which he understands ; and if he will deal altogether for cash, running no risks, provided he sells for more than he gives — sells enough to let the difference, after payment of all expenses, leave a surplus, and will continue to extend his business as this surplus will enable him to do it — it is very evident that such a man must make money, and that it would not require much mind to do it. . But at the end of a long life only could such a man hope that his accumu lations would amount to what might be termed a fortune. Yet those gentlemen may be said by the force of intellect to have caught fortune as a Mexican would a mustang, har nessed her, and driven her onward; Hewit especially, who is considered one of the most thriving and wealthy mer chants of the West. We proceeded on our way to Blaysville, stopping at some very rough houses, but nowhere at another Gauly. At Blaysville we found a pretty good hotel, and the town had somewhat the appearance of civilization. Now V 's spirits seemed to revive. Here we rested half a day. The next morning started for Lexington. On rising the hill back of Maysville, all nature seemed to have changed. There was nothing which could be called wilderness. An air of ele gant civilization and improvement seemed to pervade the whole country, compared with which, we seemed from the Hawk's Nest to have been travelling under ground, with here and there an exception, however, in the shape of a pleasant little town, and the country continued to improve in beauty as we progressed. The growth of timber in this portion of Kentucky being chiefly the sugar-maple, buck eye, hackberry, &c, trees of not large growth, and not very THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 263 thick upon the ground, the blue grass (greensward of Vir ginia) springs up spontaneously, so that very little trouble is required to form the richest pastures, which are so profit able in grazing cattle that every man has his land fenced in, and the undergrowth cut out. This gives the semblance of immense and beautiful parks all along the road. And then the beautiful brick residences seen through the trees in the distance, built in cottage form, generally with a basement- story, the entrance by a flight of steps some eight or ten feet into a beautiful portico, and from thence into a hall or pas sage some twelve feet wide, with a high, airy pitch, and rooms on each side of it. The deep cornices of these cottage like buildings evidence a good architectural taste ; they are to a building what a handsome neck-dress is to a lady ; they set her off to advantage, and are indispensable to a hand some finish. Considering how important it is to the finish ing of a building with taste that a knowledge of architectu ral proportions should exist, I wonder the science is not more generally cultivated. I think it ought to be a branch of study in all our schools; at least, so far as outward pro portions go. As, for instance, the height which a one-story building should be above the basement; a two-story build ing; what proportions these two should bear to each other and to the basement, and what ought to be the height of the basement the size of the house considered. Then the columns, their size in proportion to height, and the taper from base to capital ; character of base and of capital. Size1 and shape of windows and doors; character of balusters; out side and inside steps; character of cornice and depth. Best kind of roof and style of finish, all to make the most impos ing display according to cost. This whole subject, as far as nee jssary to enable a gentleman of taste to plan his own buildings, could be mastered in a time which would be hardly worth naming ; and the possession of the knowledge would stamp itself upon the improvements of any country 264 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. where it existed. The style of a building typifies the cha racter of the owner, in the absence of other evidence. Sup pose we pass two farms, one with a building beautifully pro portioned, the yard with handsomely gravelled walks, green, extensive grass-plots, neat iron railings upon a cut stone or brick basement, with large, handsome iron gates. The other equally as costly, perhaps a larger house, the eves close down upon the top of the upper windows; the windows low; panes of glass small; stories low; three of them, the first but one step from the ground; yard small, without trees, no gravel, and inclosed with a board fence. Let any man view those two tenements, and he will estimate the taste and mental capacity of the owners about as he would the two residences. A very singular illustration of this idea occurred in Louisville some years ago. I was riding through the streets in company with Blrs. B and another lady in a carriage ; we spoke of the tendency of a building to exhibit the traits of character of the owner, when, to ex emplify it, several buildings were pointed out, and I was asked the character of the owners. One was a fine, finikin, gingerbread structure, extremely fantastic. I was asked who owned that. I answered, no man but one who kept a toy-shop could build such a house as that. Blrs. B burst into a fit of laughter, and declared that the man who built it did keep a toy-shop. But to return to my narrative. So unexpected was the appearance of the country now to V (for I had hardly yet learned to call her my wife), that she was in perfect rap tures. " Oh, how beautiful!" said she, "how beautiful! Why, Mr. T , do they sweep the woods here?" This, to some persons, may seem a traveller's tale; but it is lite rally true, and I often afterwards reminded my wife of her having asked me if they swept the woods in Kentucky. The soil is a deep chocolate loam, based on limestone, and grass is its most profitable appropriation. The fine, fat, THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 261 sleek cattle ranging. through the woods seem in their heavei on earth. I learn that the Kentucky cattle are more prizei in New York and Philadelphia than those of Ohio. Thi must be on account of their being less fed on corn. Grass fed beef is esteemed the sweetest. The habit among thi graziers is to cut their corn a little, before it is ripe, so tha it will yet ripen on the stalk when put into stacks. Thi they haul out into their woodland pastures, scatter over thi ground, and the cattle feed upon it, thus scattering manur over the land. While in London, in 1849, I was walking with an En glishman over Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens. Hyd Park, I think, would be the better of more trees; but stil it would be difficult to imagine a more beautiful place thai they both are, to the extent of several hundred acres. Thi gentleman seemed very proud of these grounds, and askei me if we had anything like them in America. I .answere* " yes," somewhat to his surprise. " As large ?" said hi " Yes," I remarked; " for one hundred miles square, or te thousand times as large as his parks." " Oh, you American deal on such a tremendous scale in everything that we hardl know whether you are in earnest, or quizzing us." I assure him that in Kentucky I could find a body of land equal t one hundred miles square, chiefly in grass, as beautiful e those parks, and interspersed with trees still more rich an beautiful than his elms. " Why," said he, " my idea ha always been that Kentucky was a wilderness." " In th: idea," I replied, "you are not singular. She has, until few years past, been so considered even by her parent Stat Virginia. But it is a very erroneous idea. True, a goc deal of the State is yet in a wilderness condition, as is good portion of Virginia — more of Virginia than of Kei tucky. But one hundred miles square in Kentucky can I found, superior to. the same extent anywhere in Englan< with the exception that we have no such expensive castles i 23 266 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. you have. But our country residences in that region gene rally are not inferior to yours in comfort, and I think are built in better taste;" at "the which" he seemed surprised; The dead fences are a drawback to this beautiful portion of Kentucky. In time they will disappear, and I hope be replaced by the Osage orange hedge, which by experiment is found to answer well in our country. It can be obtained in four years from the seed, or in three from the slip, and flowers magnificently. I cannot imagine a more enchanting region than this would be with Bois d'arc, otherwise called the Osage orange hedge. The frost of our region, it is said, does not injure it, although it is a native of a southern clime. Beauty and virtue are nearly allied in my mind. If I pass a country dwelling, tastefully arranged and improved, I ne cessarily picture to myself its inmates as neat, tasty, refined, and virtuous; and if so in one dwelling, the more so where this characteristic pervades a whole country. This region of Kentucky is now probably as populous as it will be for a long time. The buildings erected upon it are too expensive to be sustained by smaller farms than it is divided into. When a father dies, he generally could not divide his estate among his children. The mansion-house without any farm would be more than the share of any one, and it would be of little value without the farm. The consequence is that the whole is generally sold. Some one of the family buys it, generally the most enterprising member, he giving his bonds on some credit for the shares of the rest, and they seek a home else where. The members of most character will remain behind; the effect of which will be to cause the population of this region to be continually increasing in intelligence. Wealth necessarily, in time, procures refinement. The sons of cattle- raisers, who are measurably uneducated themselves, will be sent to college. These sons, in their young days, have been accustomed to industry. Before going to school in the morning, and afterwards in the evening, they help their THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 26 fathers to feed the cattle, and after supper retire to get thei school-tasks. They are learning and practising the game c human life as they grow up. The fine points of a horse, mule, a beef, of sheep ; the best crops to yield the greates amount of food; best modes of cultivation ; best implements best means of preserving the fertility of the land — all thes they hear constantly discussed, and withal a plentiful croj of polities, for Kentucky is emphatically the land of politica excitement. With these notions they go to college. The; are more thoughtful than other boys ; have less taste fo frivolous amusements. Naturally courageous, they are no aware that there is any merit in being so; are not ostenta tious of if; not quarrelsome, but ever ready to vindicat their rights. They see the efforts of other boys to make ; display; they see such is not the case with boys from thei own State. They admire their own countrymen, and believ that whatever is Kentuckian is right, and whatever differ from it is wrong in manners and everything else. The; acquire a manly, frank independence of character, whicl sometimes, by being carried too far, is called a Kentuckyism but it is a vice which leans to virtue's side. A gentlemai from New York related to me an anecdote which strong!; illustrated the Kentucky character. At a dinner-party, a Kentuckian was asked to drink wine The wine to be drank, according to the usage of the day required that a colored glass should be used. But he too] a clear glass ; an acquaintance at his elbow pointed to thi colored glass which ought to be used, and so intimated ti him ; but he seemed not to heed him. This gentlemai seemed dreadfully shocked at his friend's apparent want of i knowledge of the usages of polite society ; and, after he ha( drank, said to him that the etiquette of New York requiret that he should have used the other glass. The Kentuckian smiling, but with perfect self-possession, rejoined, " But ] have not been raised in New York." New Yorker. — "Bui 268 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. still, do you not think it right to conform to our rules?" Kentuckian. — "Where I am acquainted with them, and they are sensible and reasonable, I do; but where I think there is good reason to violate them, and I have not to act offensively by doing so, I prefer to violate them. The clear glass shows the natural color of the wine. My taste is in accordance with my imagination. Your colored glasses make the wine seem to me as if it had been taken from a copper kettle, or some metallic vessel, from which it had imbibed an impurity. To all your sensible fashions, sir, I will yield with pleasure — but not to this." This brought on a discus sion upon etiquette. New Yorker. — "Do you not think every country has a right to establish its own laws of po liteness?" Kentuckian. — " Oh, certainly." New Yorker. — "And that a disregard of them is disrespectful ?" Kentuck ian. — " If the disregard be wanton and without reason." New Yorker. — " But where a gentleman does not conform, he runs the hazard of being thought ignorant of the laws of etiquette. Kentuckian (laughing out). — " Which is just the fact with me." New Yorker (rather in an undertone). — " But you are not willing any one should know that?" Here Colonel S called from the - other end of the table (one or two seats being vacated near him) to the Kentuckian and his friend to come up and take them, which they did. "Come," said Colonel S to the Kentuckian, " we have no idea of Blr. N 's monopolizing your com pany;" who replied, "I do not know whether I have been more diverted, or Blr. N more alarmed at our conversa tion. He is dreadfully afraid that it will be found out that I am not au fait in regard to the etiquette of your society." "Ah!" said ColonelS , "how could he entertain such a fear?" "Simply," replied the Kentuckian, "because I confessed my ignorance." "Ah, ah, well," said Colonel S , " that is a difficulty soon remedied ;" and commenced a lecture in which he was not interrupted. " But," said my THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 26 informant, when he had finished, " the Kentuckian took u the question, and spoke so appropriately, so sensibly, s beautifully, that I began to think the man who was brigh in matters of etiquette was apt to be proportionally dull i; everything else. He evidenced a perfect familiarity with th general conventional laws of elegant society, and would hav shone at the court of St. James. But he had the most pei feet contempt for the frivolous and unmeaning portion o those rules. He was a man, a solid man," said my inform ant, "before whom the dandies of fashion seemed the meres chaff conceivable." "Ah!" said I, "Old Kentuck to th bone. That is the man to govern men. He is worth wagon-load of your bandbox fellows." I recollect an occurrence on board of a steam-boat betweei Richmond and Norfolk on a former trip to Virginia. I Kentuckian was on board not very fashionably dressed As politics were running very high, I felt anxious to knov how they were going. He and I agreed. I had previous! learned from him that he had brought in a drove of hogs fo sale. Major Smith, of Norfolk, paymaster in the army, ai elegant and accomplished gentleman, sat nearly opposite t us, and became interested in our conversation, so much s that he presently came round and asked me to introduc him. Not knowing the Kentuckian's name, I said, withou calling it, " Permit me, sir, to introduce you to Majo Smith." Rising and taking the major's hand, " Hamilton sir, is my name," said he; "I am happy to know you, sir.' I left them now, and went on deck. In about an hou Major Smith joined me, and said, "R " — being ac quainted with me from my boyhood, he always so callei me — "that Kentuckian is one of the most intelligent am sensible fellows that I have seen for a long time. Who i he?" "I do not know," I replied, "except that he is i hog-drover. He told me at table that he was going to Nor folk to learn the price of hogs preparatory to taking down i 23* 270 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. drove." "A hog-drover?" said Major Smith, with surprise. "Yes, a hog-drover," I replied. "Why," rejoined the ma jor, "he has the manners, the intelligence, and the deport ment of a gentleman." "And," said I, "doubtless, is one, his driving hogs to the contrary notwithstanding." These Western men are curious fellows. They care nothing about appearances. This man is probably the owner of an extensive farm, beautifully improved, and, if you were to visit him in Kentucky, would, perhaps, furnish you with the finest wines to be had in the New Orleans market. Those are hogs which he has probably fattened upon his own farm. It is customary there, when fattening beeves, to let two hogs follow a beef. He has possibly fattened two hundred and fifty beeves. These go into one field on one day, where they are fed; the next day they are driven to another, five hundred hogs being let into the field which they have left; and so on. These cattle go from day to day into a new field; the hogs following the next. All the feeding which these hogs get is what the beeves leave behind, and both become very fat. The probability is that this man's son, or some confidential agent, has taken his beeves to Philadelphia or New York, and that, when they get home, tbey will have an aggregate of fifteen or sixteen thousand dollars. Take out about five thousand paid for stock-hogs and stock-cattle (for none of those graziers raise the cattle which they fatten, but buy them of small farmers, living where the range is freer and larger), and he will have about ten thousand dol lars; the proceeds for the year of a farm of perhaps one thousand acres of grazing land. James Clay, a son of the Hon. Henry Clay, a man of fine mind, very much after the order of his father's, and who, if he had any political ambition, could acquire a position of the highest grade among our statesmen — who, however, has none, but a perfect contempt for popularity — told me that he once went to North Carolina with a drove of mules, raised, I pre- THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 2T. sume, on his own farm, and his name being Clay, he wa asked if he was related to Henry Clay. He replied that hi was Henry Clay's son ; and it was with difficulty that h could obtain credence. , Again I have wandered from my narrative ; to return :— We proceeded on to Lexington, and, as we passed througl the city, a very large green yard appeared on our left, am a large airy mansion in the centre ; a young lady standinj in the door, not near enough to distinguish her features, bu I was pretty certain it was Miss . "There, V ," said I, "is Miss , with whom about two years ago, I first visited Ashland, Mr. Clay's resi dence. She is a beautiful, sweet girl; she took me out ii her father's own carriage." Said V , "I wonder you di not fall in love with her." " Oh," I replied, " she was cog nizant of that sad affair of mine, which did so much mis chief between you and me, or probably she would not have s favored me. She felt perfectly secure from being courted.' " Oh, do not mention that to me any more," said V "I do not like to hear of it." We proceeded on to Frankfort, and, when on the top c the hill, just above, we felt the carriage careening to the right I called suddenly to the driver to know what was the maftei He had fallen asleep, and was roused up just in time to sav us from being precipitated over a steep of perhaps one hur dred feet in height. Frankfort now appeared all before u in a hollow surrounded by hills. Such is its appearanc that the idea strikes one that, with rafters long enough t meet from the adjacent hills to the centre, you might cove it all under one roof. 272 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. CHAPTER LII. ARRIVAL AT FRANKFORT — REMOVAL TO HAPHAZARD— COAL BUSINESS. Judge Bibb, Mr. Crittenden, and my acquaintances gene rally, calling to see V , and welcoming her, cheered her spirits very much, although nothing could compensate for the absence of her own near relatives. It is a dreary time with a young wife, when she goes into a far-off strange land, among those whom she never saw before, however kind they may be to her. She had been the pet of her family, and no one could fill the blank which their absence made. We put up temporarily at Weisiger's Hotel, until I could make the necessary arrangements for housekeeping. Bly long absence had interrupted my business a good deal; but still I found a vast amount to bring up, which occupied me not only during the day, but much of the night. I took my let ters home from our office to answer at night, that I might be with V , and she would copy as I would write. I found the Haphazard Branch had not yet commenced making money, but on my return the calls were heavy on me for further advances. The little supply which I had obtained in Virginia I had hoped would go to lessening accumulated arrearages, but it all seemed required for progressing im provements. Hardly a week passed that I was not called upon for a further advance. I confess I began to feel ex ceedingly uneasy. My income from my land business had been much lessened while I was absent, and my little stook on hand was fast wasting away. I formed a determination on my first marriage to conceal nothing from my wife, and THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 273 conferred freely with her about my business. She finally suggested that we had better go to Haphazard; she thought my presence there must be necessary. I was convinced she was right — diroke up our office in Frankfort, and moved down. The house we had built was a very large one, with plenty of room for both of our families, and as B 's wife was a sweet, well-bred, amiable woman, I had no apprehen sions about any disagreement, and there was none. But still I would say to others, never attempt to live with two families in common in one house. Each family may be so well raised, and so amiable, that they could not disagree, or would not ; but still, they would love each other better, if they had sepa rate establishments. Necessity, however, left us no choice. I now saw that we were evidently#losing money by our distilleries. God seemed to have put his reprobation upon the business. Nothing went well with them, and we stopped the largest, still continuing one and the steam-mill; but steam is a; thing which should never be touched except by those having a perfect acquaintance with it, and who are willing to devote themselves entirely to it; for, if it does not make money, it will lose it very fast; there is no middle ground ; and when it does lose, the amount is frightful. A deep gloom came over me ; I feared that I saw " the shadows of coming events cast before." There was, however, a ray of hope let in from the coal-mines ; our first experiments had been profitable ; and it was determined that B — — should go to New Orleans to make arrangements to try and get it into use among the planters, or sugar-makers. On his way down he met with a Mr. B , a commission-merchant, who fur nished many planters with their supplies. On opening our plans to Mr. B , he told B he thought they would do, and undertook to act as our agent in the business. This matter being arranged, B returned, and we proceeded to send down coal, offering it at fifty cents per barrel. As four barrels were equal to a cord of wood which was worth $3, 274 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. there was an evident saving of fifty per cent., besides a great saving in the handling. The experiment was eminently suc cessful. Mr. B sold every load we sent, before it arrived, and wrote to us that, if we could afford to send it for fifty cents per bushel, he could sell all that we could send him. We Were now the only shippers, except Judge McLean, who had opened a small vein opposite to Hawesville, at what is now Cannelton. This was not over half the thickness of ours, and we did not much fear the competition. If Mr. B— — was not mistaken in supposing he could sell all that we could send down at fifty cents per barrel, our fortunes were made, for we could furnish any quantity which we could get boats to carry, and make from fifteen to twenty cents per barrel. I could see no reason why we could not send down two hundred* thousand barrels, making thereby thirty or forty thousand dollars. Dame Fortune seemed at last not only to smile, but dis posed to shower her favors upon us. So we proceeded to make our arrangements for the next year's work upon a very large scale. About the beginning of 1829, my wife blessed me with a daughter — a beautiful child, which was an additional link to that affection, before already as strong as it well could be. And now afterwards, some time in February, occurred a difficulty with our distiller. The vile business seemed doomed to go wrong in every way. I found our distiller had been cheating us, and charged him with it. This brought on a fist- fight, the only one I ever had been engaged in since I left school. He was a powerful man, over six feet high, and would have gotten the better of me, had we not been parted, My brother-in-law, Dr. P , being present, interposed, and I left the distillery with him, and went down to our office, pre tending to be entirely pacified, and laughing heartily at the occurrence as a good joke. But as soon as I had thrown the Doctor off his guard, and got him to leave me, I returned to THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 275 the distillery with a tomahawk, determined to drive the dis tiller out. - But fortunately for me, he had gone, for he was a desperate devil, and with his mash-stick would have been an overmatch for me with my tomahawk. I now had the distillery closed, and the business stopped. The distiller threatened to sue me for violation of contract; but we com promised by agreeing to leave it to arbitration. CHAPTER LIII. A DUEL. In this arbitration, occurred a difficulty which caused me so circumstantially to relate the above affair with the distil ler, which otherwise would not have been worth naming. Mr. P. T , the most prominent lawyer in our district, a man of naturally good heart, but of most ungovernable passion, was my adversary's lawyer ; and in the course of his speech, spoke of the stratagem of Mr. T . When the argument was over, I remarked to him that he had used an expression which he must withdraw. " What expression ?" said he. I replied he had accused me of stratagem in my dealings wifh the distiller. "I did not allude to you," he replied; "I meant your brother's stratagem of argument." My brother was my lawyer in the case. " Ah ! well," I replied, "I am glad to hear it." "But," he rejoined, " I am always responsible for what I say." About six months before this, when T and myself were taking some depositions, he had been needlessly harsh, as I thought, on my witness. I took him out to give him a friendly talk about it. His usual mode of proceeding in such cases was harsher than I was disposed to bear with; 276 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. but he was so accustomed to it that he did not think there was any harm in it. We were neighbors, and I was anxious to keep on friendly terms with him. So I told him, and that to this end more courtesy would be necessary on his part. He took this as a threat, and said he would not be threatened by any man. I told him, so far from its being designed as a threat, I designed by it to avoid wy cause of quarrel if possible. But, as I had missed my ob ject, and to the public, if we did quarrel, there might be a semblance of my being in the wrong, I did not intend then to let him draw me into a quarrel; but at any other time, when he felt inclined to seek a quarrel with me, he should be gratified. Thus we parted; and we both now were on the look-out for the slightest provocation. Under other cir cumstances, I should not have deemed his remark sufficiently offensive to require me to call him to account for it, nor would he have refused to let his explanation stand. Seeing now that I had mistaken him, and although deter mined not to take the shadow of an insult from him (espe cially as he held the whole country in dread, for when in a passion" he lost all control of himself), I was still anxious to avoid a quarrel if I could do so with credit. When he said, " I am always responsible for what I say," I looked him earnestly in the face, and replied, " Mr. T , while I be lieved you intended to insult me, I intended to call you to account for it. When I perceived my error, I was anxious that the. difficulty should go no further. Your explanation was satisfactory, and under that explanation there is no need for you to hold yourself accountable; there is nothing to be accounted for. Let me beg of you now to let this matter stop where it is." He replied, he withdrew his explanation. I walked up to him with a view to make a personal attack upon him, when my brother cried out, " Good God, E, 1 you are not going to strike a lame man." I halted, and looked at him, and said, "I will not strike you, sir; nor will I chal- THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 277 lenge you, abhorring duelling as I do, but nevertheless I will accept a challenge from you, and that you may not be without provocation for one, I tell you that I only now spare you in consideration of your lameness. Now challenge me if you dare." Our friends jumped in between us; several taking hold of him, and several hold of me. To those who attempted to hold me, I remarked in the language of a man of whom I had read, who was in a similar predicament, " One man can hold me ; the balance of you go and hold Blr. T ." In due time the challenge came, and was accepted to fight as soon as I could provide myself with arms. I sent to Hardinsburg for a pair of pistols, said to be the best known jff. ButT had been before me. One friend then jumped on a steamboat, and went to Louisville, where he obtained a fine pair belonging to Blr. J. D. B . An other went to New Madrid, where he knew there was a pair which Burr had had on the field with Hamilton. Both pairs were obtained, and so good were they that I did not regret failing to obtain those in Hardinsburg. I now fixed the day for the fight, accepting at ten paces back to back, whirl and fire between- the words fire and three, the seconds to count deliberately one, two, three. T objected to standing back to back, as he was lame, and could not turn as quick as I could. I then waived that condition, and agreed to stand face to face. He having the advantage of me in practice, I took time to make myself even with him, and soon found I was a first-rate marksman, and heard that he was the same. The victory, then, would fall to hini who • could shoot quickest ; therefore, my efforts were to learn to shoot quick. During the interim before fighting, I was daily engaged with B in settling up our business ; and the evening before in making the final arrangements; B , remarked, it was strange to see a man writing his will, and. making such arrangements while yet in good health. A 24 278 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. singular occurrence had happened a few nights before; my wife in the middle of the night seemed terribly disturbed in her sleep, and groaned so much that I waked her. "Oh!" said she, as she roused up, "I have had such a frightful, terrible dream. I dreamed I was in a room full of black coffins." "Why did you dream so?" I asked. "Oh! I do not know," she replied; "but it makes me feel very unhappy." I remarked, " Dreams, you know, are always to be construed backwards." This incident, I confess, weighed heavily on my spirits; not that I was at all superstitious; but it brought vividly to my view what would be the conse quence if I should be shot, and not much better if I should shoot my adversary. A young wife, not yet a year married, and an infant daughter. Oh ! if she only knew what was impending, what a premonition there would seem to be in that dream. Ofi the night before our fight, our little daugh ter was particularly cross, so much so that I said to V I felt so much in want of sleep that I must go up stairs and take another bed. This, said V afterwards, was the first unkind act she had seen on my part, and it cut her to the heart. She had no idea how important sleep was to me at that time. The next day we were to meet at a designated point on the Indiana shore at eleven o'clock. When about to embark to cross over, Judge H , one of my seconds (each had two, J. B. A my other), asked me how I felt. I replied, " Strangely indifferent ; I Can hardly real ize that I am going to fight a duel." " But," said he, "you must realize it, for there is but little time left now." I then.reniarked, " Before we go over, hang up a tape against that tree, and let me try my band." He objected, saying, " If you make a bad shot, it will affect your spirits." " No," I replied, "it will not; bang it up." It was done; at ten steps I took a shot, and cut the tape about half an inch be low the black spot. " That will do," said he. Considering the probable dreadful result, to kill or be THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 279 killed, many would say it argued great want of feeling to go about such a business so calmly. But if the reader has ever been engaged in a duel, has had time for reflection before it occurred, and his conscience is at rest as to having used every effort to avoid it, he will then see that the thing, being inevitable, and his own safety depending on his shooting his adversary, no question arises in his mind which of the two to choose. Persons may say, they would as soon be shot as to shoot an adversary. That was not my case ; I very much preferred to shoot my adversary. And it was important to my success in doing so that the awful responsibility of the act should be shut out from my mind as much as possible. I would not think of it but in one way, that it was neces sary to my own safety. I had no feeling of revenge to gra tify, and when I went upon the ground I had no more animosity against T than against any other man on the ground.. When we took our positions, and were asked if we •were ready, I answered, " No." I wished to see if my nerves were steady, and took aim at a lump of snow on a wood-pile. Although there was snow uppn the ground, and it was dead of winter — February — yet I felt a warm glow and a suppleness of nerve which were extraordinary. If Pro vidence would take part with either party in a matter like this, I should think I- had his support, for never was my touch so sensitive, my flesh so pliant, nor my aim so quick and accurate as at this lump of snow. I felt as if I could put my ball just where I pleased; and unfortunately for T there was a grease spot very visible just where I wished to aim. Being satisfied with my aim, I turned to the second who had asked if we were ready, and said, " Now I am ready." T was asked if he was ready, and, answering yes, the word fire was given. Our fires were almost simultaneous, mine a little first. For a moment T stood erect, and, although my aim was good, I began to think I must have 280 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. missed him. But presently a black scowl came over his coun tenance, he threw his pistol on the ground before him, and said : " I am a dead man !" Now, all the feelings which had been strained up were relaxed, and my first impulse was to go to his aid. But, as I advanced, his second, Blr. G , called to me to keep my post ; that Blr. T might wish another fire. I returned ; but in a few moments his other second, Judge C , called out that Mr. T was satisfied. He would be unable to take another fire. My ball had en tered just under his right nipple, passed through his body, and lodged in his left arm, without breaking the skin except where it entered. It was not supposed he could live twenty- four hours. But he did, and finally recovered ; and although at first, for some time, we were not friendly, yet ultimately we made- up and were good friends. And, what was singular, this shot' cured him of a chronic rheumatism of ten years' standing, and of his lameness. He said I was a first-rate surgeon, though rather a rough operator. T was a sin gular man, one of violent passions ; sorry for it when the passion was over ; and used to tell his friends that he could not control himself, and that he was certain he would some day be killed ; a correct prediction, for he was afterwards killed in the streets of Owensboro' by a man whom he had attacked. He was a man of fine talents and fine qualities, away from his ungovernable passions. To return, now I had to go home and break the matter to my wife. The idea of my having killed a man I knew would almost break her sensitive heart. So I concluded, until he died, I would pass it off for a slight wound. I asked her, on arriving at home, to go with me to her chamber. She looked in my face and said : " Why, Mr. T , you look dread ful ; what is the matter ?" " Nothing," I replied, "as things have turned out, but it might have been dreadful. I have just fought a duel." "Oh," said she, "are you hurt?" "Not touched," I replied; "but my adversary is slightly THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 281 wounded." She fell upon my neck and sobbed, as though I had been shot. After a while, rising, she asked where he was shot, and who my adversary was. I replied, Blr. T , who had received a flesh wound in the side. "Oh, heavens, Mr. T , suppose he should die ?" I believed he would, but still did not wish her to think so then, yet thought it necessary to prepare her for the possibility. So I replied : "Of that there is no danger. But if he should, he has brought the event upon his own head. I did my best to avoid it. He forced me into it ;" and I related to her the quarrel as it had occurred, and how I had struggled to avoid the result. She seemed satisfied, and said she hoped T would get well. The wound was such an one as I suppose would have killed ninety-nine men out of one hundred, for I am told by physicians that the space for an ounce ball cannot be found between the point of entrance and of rest of this ball without cutting the lungs and causing death, except by supposing that the hall ranged around under the breast bone, pressing it out so as to leave room between it and the lungs for the ball to pass. This the physicians had no idea of, of course concluded he must die, and so informed mo. I entertained no hope, and, of course, was seeking for con solation in the unavoidable circumstances of the case. But he did not die so soon as was expected, and this gave me some hope. Each day added to this hope, until he was pro nounced out of danger. Now I breathed freely, and a load of anxiety was taken from my mind. But what was my astonishment to learn now that he had sent for his seconds to challenge me again. I had been thanking my God for his recovery, and saving me the respon sibility of his death. Now it was all to go over again. I was rendered perfectly desperate ; wrote for my seconds, and named the mode in which I would fight if challenged again, rendering the escape of either a very doubtful matter. But my seconds and his both thought another fight " con- 24* 282 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. trary to all precedent," and he was dissuaded from sending the challenge. The man who finally killed him was a workman, a car penter, not particularly sensitive ; but the event so preyed upon his conscience that he gradually pined away and died in about a year after, of no complaint but remorse. Would my case have been any better had it been my fate to kill him ? Very doubtful. My brother's remark, though designed to prevent a fight, was a most unfortunate one ; for, although T was a little lame, it did not impair his strength, and he was a full match for me. But for my brother's re mark we would have had a fist fight, the company would pro bably have parted us, and there it would have ended. What he meant for good, therefore, turned out for evil. Now had such a board of arbitrators existed here as I have designated heretofore in these memoirs, and the steps there suggested been taken, this duel might have been prevented. ¦ So much for that matter. This put a final close to the distilling business. The curse of God seemed to be upon it, and both distilleries now soon went to wreck. Here was a large sum of money entirely sunk. I felt some consolation in the reflection that, if we had been engaged in the abominable business, we had lost enough to punish us for the sin, and that our account with Heaven was nearly balanced. But, as I before said, at that time it was not considered a discreditable business. THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 283 CHAPTER LIV. SHIPMENT OF COAL TO NEW ORLEANS. We now made all arrangements for a tremendous business in coal, and so brilliant seemed the prospect there that the loss by the distilleries was thought but a trifle. We1 turned in to building boats ' at our steam-mill, turning out one a week; contracted with Judge Huston for all that he could build at his mill on Sinking Creek; engaged other mills on Salt River, and, indeed, various points were all alive building boats for us. All things moved on swimmingly, so that, as soon as the water rose in the fall, our boats were loaded and dispatched with great energy. We were in the highest conceivable spirits, imagin ing we were making from one hundred and fifty to two hun dred dollars per day. But in the midst of our glee we received a letter from Mr. B , saying that an unprecedented frost had occurred, which had killed the sugar-cane, and there would not be half a crop to grind. The planters, therefore, would not want the coal, and if they wanted it, they could not pay for it. That we must stop shipments, and draw no more drafts on him. This was a state of things beyond our calculation ; entirely unforeseen. Never did fortune so suddenly change. There seemed no ground of fear; no such frost had occurred for twenty years. The planters were anxious to get our coal at fifty cents per barrel, and at this price we could make a for tune. We had now some twenty or thirty boat-loads on the way, and contracts for at least one hundred boats to be built, a great number of coal-diggers and boatmen engaged. What 284 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. were we to do ? Ruin stared us in the face. We sent mes sengers immediately around to all the owners of saw-mills with whom we had contracted, informing them of the disas ter, which would make it impossible for us to pay for their boats, and asking them to cease building. We arranged with our coal-diggers to dig as little as possible, only to load such boats as we had on hand, and I jumped upon a steam boat, and went immediately to New Orleans. On my arrival there, I found some twenty boats in port, and no demand for the coal, which some of the boatmen would have had sacrificed to pay their wages, but no one wanted it, and they could not sell it. My great fear now was that the boatmen, in order to enforce the payment of their wages, might put me in the calaboose, as they could have done. I went around among them, and told them not to be alarmed; that, in a few days, I would put all things to rights. Their expenses, however, were about forty dollars per day for hire, and eight dollars wharfage for each boat. Mr. B was frightened, would make no ad vances, and I had scarcely money enough in my pocket to pay my tavern expenses one week, with no knowledge where I could sell one bushel' of coal, or raise a dollar. It ever a man had cause to despond, and give up, I think I had at this time. But my determination was to fall with my colors flying, and never to despond until all was lost. When I retired to my room at night, I took a calm review of all the difficulties which surrounded me, and the best means of overcoming them. There was then no coal burnt in New Orleans in grates, except a little Cannel coal by a few Eng lish houses. I determined to try to bring it into use; a hopeless chance this, to make a market for coal already in port ; but there seemed no resource left. It was winter. Early in the morning I went down to Richardson's hotel, first, however, ordering a load of coal to be sent there imme diately. It was very cold and chilly, and not half those who THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 285 crowded in to the hotel could get to the wood-fire. The cart appearing at the door, I asked permission of Mr. Rich ardson to let me put a few lumps of coal upon his fire, saying it should cost him nothing. With some reluctance he consented. Soon the coal was in a blaze, and soon the heat began to expand the crowd, until there was plenty of room for all. All were delighted, and Richardson, smiling, said, " Well, I believe you may put me out that load of coal. What is the price?" I answered four dollars. Turn ing to his barkeeper, he said, " Pay this gentleman four dol lars." Madame Sontag, Jenny Lind, and all the exquisite singers that ever visited our land never furnished such sweet music as was to my ear, " Pay this gentleman four dollars." I now determined to go to one of the cotton-presses, and try there ; so I ordered a load of coal to follow me. After some time taken up in arguing with the owner of the press, in favor of the coal, and an offer to give him the first load for nothing, provided he did not like it well enough to order a second, he agreed I might try it. It had now arrived, and I directed the fireman to throw a few shovels full in among the wood, and only a few, until they became ignited, being fearful of choking and dampening the fire. Soon its effects were seen by the blowing off of the steam. Now the quantity was increased, and the wood and coal put in alternately. Presently the steam whistled from the safety- valve as it had never done before. I asked the owner what he thought of it ; he replied he thought it would do, paid me for the load, and ordered several more. I now began to feel confident that I could make a market for all our coal, and started up -to see the boatmen; but on my way saw the tow-boat "Livingston" taking in wood. I went on board, and proposed to her captain (Morrison) to try coal. He did not know how it would answer. I agreed he might take on one hundred barrels, and if he did not use 286 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. it, he should not pay for it. He replied he had to take in some ballast, and would give me the same price for four hundred barrels of coal that he would have to pay for so much ballast. "Agreed," said I; "but if you burn the coal, you shall pay me fifty cents per barrel for it ;'' and he ac ceded to my proposition. The tow-boat accordingly went up to one of the coal boats, took on four hundred barrels; and to see the trial properly made, I got on board of her to go to the Balize. I directed the firemen how to use it, and with the same result as at the cotton-press. Captain Mor rison was perfectly astonished at the effect, and after running down several miles, "put about," and returned to New Or leans to let the agent and owners know how finely the coal answered, to get them to make a contract. They came on board, and we went down some miles, when all seemed highly gratified with the experiment ; but made no contract for the present. They paid me, however, for the coal. I now had over two hundred dollars, and on returning to the boat from which I was delivering, found carts there loading for the cotton-press. I went among the boatmen, related my success, distributed two hundred dollars of the money I had received among them", and cheered them up as well as I could. I went to our commission-merchant B , ex plained .what I had done, depicted the brilliant prospects which, I thought, were dawning, and which would be re alized, as soon as the value of coal could be made known, and inspired him with such confidence as to procure an advance sufficient to pay off all the boatmen. Now my fears of the calaboose were allayed, and my confidence of ultimate success greatly strengthened. I went about the city to the cotton-presses, saw-mills, foundries, smith-shops, etc., en deavoring to induce them to use the coal, and succeeded to a great extent, except with the smiths and foundries, who said it had too much sulphur in it. But it now began to come into use very rapidly as ordinary fuel, and the tow- THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 287 boat "Livingston" was a regular customer, taking several hundred barrels every trip. All the other tow-boats, eight in number, had contracts for wood, and therefore could not burn coal; but a new one, called the "Shark," expected down from Cincinnati daily, had no such contract, and I was promised her custom. But in the mean time the shrimps were eating the calking out of the bottoms of the coal- boats; they were beginning to leak, and it was necessary to provide a place of deposit for the coal. This was also neces sary in order to supply the .tow-boats quickly, time being very important to them. The process of taking the coal from the flat-boats was very slow ; besides causing danger to the boats. So I rented a river lot from a Mr. Banks, and erected a wharf upon it out of old boats, upon which I deposited the coal, and along-side of which the tow-boats could come for it. The delivery now, by means of wheelbarrows, was very easy and rapid. The " Shark" at length arrived, and made trial of it. Capt. Wood, her commander, was much pleased, and changed his furnaces to use it exclusively. He came along-side of the wharf, and took in eleven hundred barrels at one time. Now I felt that I had recovered from the loss of the sugar-planting interest, and was upon my legs again; and with the prospects before me, I could safely order a re sumption of shipments from our coal-mines, which I did ac cordingly, informing B of what I had done, and urging him to forward me coal as fast as he could. The boatmen who returned to Kentucky, and who, on their arrival in New Orleans, said there was no chance for selling, had a great opinion of my fertility of resource, and said I had accomplish ed wonders; that they did not believe any other living man could have done as much. A letter from B- at this time said that my efforts had inspired the boatmen with such confidence that he must inform me of it,, and proceeded to relate the accounts which they brought. I now had great 288 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. cause of congratulation. Had I, on my arrival, been broken down in spirits by the gloomy aspect of things, and sold out the coal for what it would have brought, it would not have paid the hire of the hands ; indeed, it would have brought almost nothing. But my maxim, "that it costs no more to die fighting, than to be conquered unresistingly," determined me to struggle to the last; and that struggle had brought us out. B 's confidence was restored; he agreed to resume his acceptance of our bills, and away we went ahead again. CHAPTER LV. DINE WITH MR. CLAY AT JUDGE PORTER'S— A PICTURE 0! REAL LIFE. On going, one day, to B 's office, I found there a note from Judge Porter, inviting me to dine with Blr. Clay, and a few friends at his house the next day. I had not 6een the judge, and was not aware that he knew I was in town; indeed, I had not wished to see him, or any other acquaint ance, for my concern was so great for our situation, and my exertions such among coal men, as to soil my clothes, give me a careworn look, and unfit me for company. Now, how ever, it was different; my careworn appearance was all gone. I had a triumphant buoyancy of spirit, which made me feel ready to enjoy any company. How few men there are who have realized the difference between their feelings in pros perity and adversity ! One is not the same man at all in the two cases. I had occasion to note it during this short period of my adversity. I had a few acquaintances in New Orleans, who, being aware of my embarrassed condition, and afraid, I suppose, that I might ask favors of them, became so reserved THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. 289 that I dropped their acquaintance. Adversity is a school where man learns human nature. Blany a man is a good friend while he can live upon you; who, the moment you are overtaken by misfortune, will desert you, and be the first to grind you with the heel of oppression. You may have done him a hundred favors, your friendship and confidence may have gone so far as to create a doubt whether you were not lacking in good sense to trust any man so far; but the day comes when misfortune overtakes you ; he now sees that he can make no further use of you ; according to all human calculation, you must sink ; your acquaintance is no longer of any value to him, and he must get clear of you. At first you observe only a lack of cordiality, you are hurt at it, but do not notice it. , This disappoints him, for he expected you to be offended, and to give him cause for an open breach ; but being aware of it, you determine to leave to his own conscience his punishment. You still preserve the even tenor of your course, taking no notice of his treatment. Still believing you cannot stand under the weight upon you, he becomes colder and colder, and ceases to invite you to his house. You still do not note it. Some friend sitting with him, drinking a social glass of wine, and smoking a cigar, says, "I observe Y and yourself are not as sociable as for merly ; have you had any difference ?" X (puff, puff, puff with his cigar) makes no reply. Z I will call the ques tioner. Z. — " Ah, perhaps some matter which it will not do to name." X. — Puff, puff, puff— no reply. This passes off. Next day says Z to A, " What is the cause of difference be tween X and Y ?" observing, " I never see Y at X's house ; I asked X yesterday what was the cause, but he gave me no answer." A.- — "X would endure a good deal before he would say anything to injure any one with whom he had been on such intimate terms for so great a length of time as with Y." Z. — " Yes, he is a prudent man-, and would rather suffer an injury in silence than tell on an old friend." A. — " I ima- 25 290 THE PILOT OF HUMAN LIFE. gine, then, you have some idea of what it is?" Z.—' The fourth will always follow the balance, because, if we had it not at home, it would take but twenty days to get ifc from abroad ; but we have it in abundance at home. The sixth is the result of time, and naturally follows upon a con tinuance of the other five in uninterrupted combination for a long period. Capital, of all the ingredients, is the most essential for success; to be sure, capital is of no use without the balance. But the balance are of no use without capital. Capital is the substratum. Now where does capital come from ? It is in the hands of men noted generally for their caution, and who only let it go for investment where expe rience shows it is sure to return a certain percentage annu ally. It will not do to tell such men, when a depression occurs in the market which cuts off dividends — " Oh, this is but temporary ; have patience, and in a year or two there will be a reaction, when you will more than regain all that you are now losing." This is all nonsense to them. They want their dividends, and if they do not get them regularly, they will sell out their stock, and thus they add to the very evil they complain of. In England the judicious manage thus : A joint-stock company is created. By the best cal culations its dividends will be 7 J per cent., but capitalists are satisfied with 5. If 7| are made, 2£ are laid by as a safety-fund, and invested in government stocks, and 5 are divided. While things move smoothly, the 7$ continue to 404 our country's good. be made, and the safety-fund rapidly increases. But in time markets become depressed, and the business is unprofitable, yields nothing. But the dividends continue regularly the same to the shareholders, who are paid their five per cent. out of the safety-fund, and, unless the low prices continue an unusual time, this safety-fund suffices to bridge over them, and the capitalist rests content to continue his funds in the investment. . There seldom happens in England one of those explosions so common with us every twelve or fifteen years, when our imports have for a period of years so far overbalanced our exports that the difference has to be sent off in specie, finally producing such a collapse as to ruin almost the whole coun try. No such can occur in England, being the chief manu facturer for the balance of the world; the balance of the world, who do not protect sufficiently their own manufac turers, are tributary to her, and her capital is always on the increase. But her raifroad manias do sometimes bring her into difficulties. In 1849, an explosion of this kind occurred. A man by the name of Hudson, who obtained the name of Railroad King from the influence which he had obtained, had years before got the control of some important railroad which was profitable, and paid ten per cent. He urged that its extension would add to its profit, and he would guarantee ten per cent, as far as he was allowed to extend it. He was accordingly empowered to do so, and invited capital on those terms. It came in to any required extent, and the roads were extended accordingly, and an extravagance of expendi-' ture indulged in, until finally they would not pay ten per cent. To declare this fact would have blown up Hudson. So he determined to continue declaring the ten per cent., and paid it out of the capital stock, hoping for an improvement, But this improvement did not come, and, finally, the whole affair necessarily became exposed; but not before Hudson, our country's good. 405 by his apparent extraordinary talent for making railroads yield good dividends, had obtained the control of almost every railroad in England. And, consequently, when the crash came, it showed the bankruptcy of almost every road under his control. Great, of course, were the confusion and temporary distress created. But the indebtedness was from one resident to another, not to foreigners ; there was none the less money in the country. It had only changed hands, and the same was there to give a new impulse to business in a new form. The sufferers sunk under the waters, a bubble or two showed where they had gone down ; but the general prosperity floated on, there was no less depth of water. But with us, when such an event happens, the water has been evaporated, the channel has become dry, and we are left upon sand-bars to await the coming wet season. This is a condition to which we are now fast verging, and to which no prudent government would ever subject the country, for nothing is easier than to avoid it. F. — But if the substratum of manufacturing is capital, and we have it not, would we not be legislating in vain to force a system upon our country which it had no foundation for, and consequently was not prepared for ? P. — I would make a foundation, sir. If the nature of the ground is too sandy or boggy to be built on without aid, I would drive down piles, until I made a solid foundation. If you have a city lot, favorably situated for commerce, and of great value for warehouses, but which is marshy, and not suitable for building on, will you therefore abandon it, when an outlay of ten thousand dollars will make a foundation, and build a warehouse which would be worth fifty thousand dollars ? The capital can be created, sir, very easily. Give a wise protection to our manufactures, such as we have here tofore had, but make the duties specific, so as to avoid fraud. Give some assurance that this protection will be permanent, and you will find that capital will go rapidly into manufac- 406 OUR country's good. turing, and the millions which we annually send abroad will stay at home. Only think. In England, the very ore which you have just seen would bring four thousand dollars per acre, at the rates I have named, to be manufactured into iron to send across the ocean, and two thousand miles up stream to sell to us, when we too ship them bread and meat to feed the manufacturers on. While this ore, and the coal close by it, lie measurably valueless, when all that is needed to make it worth as much as it is in Scotland is to pass such laws as to induce the same capitalists who manufacture it there to send that capital and the hands who make it there across the ocean, and make it here. It would take them but twenty days to come, and the workmen would not lose their knowledge by crossing the ocean. The mere passage of a wise law will accomplish all this. Yes, sir ! The American people, if they could obtain such a law on no other terms, would find it a cheap purchase to give five hundred millions of dollars for it; that would be but thirty millions per annum, and we are now annually going in debt over this amount, which in that event would be saved. There is no fiction in this. It is all plain, palpable matter- of-fact. F. — Provided we are willing to tax ourselves sufficiently to do it. P. — Well, let us see what this tax would amount to. I will take yourself, for instance. What would be your part of this tax? Of the suit you wear, what is the cost of what is imported ? i?1.— Why, my coat about $30, pants $10, vest $5. The balance, I presume, was made at home. t)h! my cloak $40, which I have not on. P. — Very well, $45, and you do not wear out on an ave rage over one suit a year. The cloak on an average will last four years. So add $10, making $55. Say the re quired duty, to support government, which you now pay, is our country's good. 407 twentyper cent. ; ten more is all we ask; this would be $5 50. Now, sir, would you grudge $5 50 per annum to see such a change created as would be by a wiser tariff, which should -start up factories in all our coal-fields, and bring, all our iron ore into value ? With the same capital invested here, there is no reason why our coal and iron ore should not be worth as much as it is in England. And it is the coal and iron ore of England which is the basis of her wealth and power. We have ten times as much as she has, and by a policy similar to that which has given her this power and wealth, we could in time overtop her tenfold in both. But as it is, we are mere hewers of wood and drawers of water for her. All the wealth of California, which right fully ought to be ours, and ought to be spent at home, among our own manufacturers, who can as well supply their wants as England, only comes among us for a day, then to be shipped off to that country, for which our commercial cities are mere agencies, collecting and sending to that country all our wealth as fast as we accumulate it. Oh, it is too bad, too bad ! And all because our citizens, taking you as a sample, are unwilling to pay $5 50 per annum to prevent it. Yes, if a missionary to the Hindoos, to the Sandwich Islands, to any foreign land, asks you for $5 50, to aid in his mission, your purse is open to him. If some straggling foreigner, pretending to have been ship wrecked, asks you for $5 50, you are ready to give it to him. But if you are pointed to magnificent founderies, furnaces, cotton-factories, all standing still, and going to ruin, and, thousands and tens of thousands of your own fellow- citizens thrown out of employment thereby; if it is made apparent to you that the yielding of this $5 50 per annum will aggrandize your country, make her independent, pros perous, and powerful; all this is nothing in the scale against the $5 50. For all sorts of outlandish purposes, your pocket 408 our country's good. is open, but you have no bowels of compassion for your own country. This $5 50, too, is allowing the heaviest tax you claim. I say, even for the first year, it would be but the half, and in a year or two after, nothing. And then what benefits arise ! Let one of those manufacturing establishments arise where they may, they make a market for all the neighbor hood. Your corn, your hay, pork, butter, eggs, chickens, hire for your hands, wagons and teams, all at good prices, making the whole country cheerful and happy. Are those considerations — is your interest in them, not worth $5 50 per year, even if it were to be all lost, and no other advan tage to arise ? F. — Why, I think you're losing that calm mood with which you set out, and which you promised to preserve in order to a dispassionate discussion of this subject, with a view to elicit truth. Declamation, you know, is not argu ment. It is the judgment, and not the feelings, which we are now appealing to, P. — Perhaps I am more excited by the subject than I ought to be; but, really, it is hard, when I see, as I believe, such a magnificent promise for our country by very reason able protection to home industry on the one hand, and ruin so inevitable on the other; and the first to be obtained at so small a temporary sacrifice — indeed, no sacrifice at all; it is bard, I say, not to be excited. But I will try to avoid it, because I wish you to have all the advantage of your coolest judgment in the discussion of this subject. For, I see, you are so fixed in your opinions that proof, strong as Holy Writ, will be required to shake- them; nor do I wish to shake them, except by evidence too powerful to be withstood. I desire you to bring forward every possible objection to pro tection, and every argument in favor of free trade. I am myself convinced that protection is for our advantage. If you can show me that it is not, I wish you to do so, promis- our country's good. 409 ing you, most faithfully, that no prejudice or pride of opinion shall interpose to prevent my seeing and acknowledging the truth of any fact which you give me evidence of. All I ask is similar magnanimity on your part. - F.- — If I could be satisfied that this inequality in trade between England and ourselves was really as you say, and that it was to continue, I am ready to admit I would not be satisfied with it. But you admit you do not speak from official information, but from newspaper report. Now, Mr. Webster makes the imports of 1850 about $178,000,000, and exports about $152,000,000. There is but a difference of $26,000,000 — not a matter to be scared about. P. — Mr. Webster, I presume, includes, in our exports, spe cie, which has gone out to the amount of about $20,000,000 for the last half year. If as much the previous half year, which I do not recollect, there would be a total of excess of imports over exports of about $66,000,000, leaving out specie. It is more probable Mr. Webster speaks, as I am sure he does, of the trade of last year. My remarks apply to the estimate for this year. F. — But you are taking the wrong road. We came in the other fork. P. — It is but a little out of the way to go by a Mr. K 's, whose family I wish you to see. This man is rather delicate for out-door work ; his wife quite a neat, tidy wo man, and he has four very pretty daughters and a son. Until three years ago, he was exceedingly poor, could hardly feed and clothe his family decently until the erection of the cotton-factory which I will show you to-morrow. He there got employment for himself and all his family. He got four dollars per week, his son and daughters each two dollars at the starts Soon he was found so handy as a folder that his wages were raised to six dollars per week. His sons' were increased, as pressmen, to four dollars, and his daugh ters became expert weavers, and made three dollars per week. 35 410 our country's good. Here wer^ tw'enty'-two dollars per week for the family, and a cottage found them. The old lady did the cooking, house work, etc., the girls at night did their washing, and the son, then, cut up the wood. But here is the house. We will call for a drink of water. " Good-morning, Mr. K . All well?" "Yes, tolerably. Will you not get down ?" "No, I thank you; we want a drink of your fine water. (The son goes for it.) Well, how do you get on nowadays?" "Oh, poor enough. 'Tis mighty hard making a living out of the ground for a large family, and four of 'em grown daughters^ who can't help any. When will the factory start again ?" " I cannot tell. English goods are now selling so low in our market that they have stopped about one-third of all our factories, and I cannot tell when we can start again." " Well, I am mighty sorry, for there have been hard times with us since the factory stopped. But why can't we make goods as cheap as the English? It seems to me we ought to do it." P.^We could with a little protection. But it requires a little — and this gentleman's part of the tax would be five dollars and fifty cents, which he says he is not willing to pay to keep up this establishment. " Why," said one of the pretty girls, " my good sir, do agree to it, and I will pay your part of the tax; 'twill only take two weeks of my wages." F. — My dear Miss, if it depended on me, you should have the protection to-morrow; but I am only one out of a million. "Oh!" exclaimed the old lady; "well, sir, we will all give a month's wages." "Yes," said another pretty daughter, " two months, three months, and, if all will do so, as I reckon they will, we can make up the tax ourselves." F. — Come, P , it's time we were getting home; let's drive on. P. — Good-by, Mr. K . I am sorry we cannot stay longer. OUR country's good. 411 F. — Confound you, P ! This is taking foul hold. P. — I wanted .to show you, by the change in fortunes of this amiable family, by the stopping of the factory, the amount of distress caused thereby to all the operatives thrown out of employment. And I ask you now, in candor, does this offer no argument in favor of protecting our home industry ? F. — Yes, sir.. All your arguments put together were not half so strong as that of those pretty girls. Curse their little hearts, to talk to me about paying my part of the tax ! P. — Now, sir, reflect ! By a protection which, to you, at the highest figures you claim yourself, would only be five dollars and fifty cents to you, you would give prosperity and happiness to hundreds of thousands of your own countrymen and women such as you have just seen. By refusing it, you leave them in poverty, and transfer that help to English operatives. But while, for the sake of argument, I admit that you will pay five dollars and fifty cents tax, which is not the fact, I show conclusively, as in the McDuffie case, that, by paying five dollars and fifty cents out of one pocket, you cause over twenty dollars to be put into the other — yes, sir, and most sincerely do I believe, one hundred dollars — if you are engaged in any sort of enterprise, or have any interest in the general prosperity of the country. IX. Effects of free trade on the value of land. F.— There is a fine flock of sheep. Does your country suit sheep ? P.— Yes, very well. But the uncertainty of demand for wool has caused farmers to devote themselves otherwise. I see in Michigan they estimate their flocks at a million and a half, and in Ohio at six millions, and gradually the business will become a large one. Why should it not ? In England, they raise great flocks upon land which costs £100, or $500 412 our country's oood. per acre. Why can we not raise them here on land which can be had for one-fiftieth part of that sum ? And why should not this wool be manufactured at home ? Take all the expense of sending it to a foreign market, and bringing back the goods which it makes, the charges will amount on an average to a quarter of a dollar per sheep, over what they would be if manufactured at home, saving freights, commis sions, profits, insurance, drayage, storage, &c, saying no thing of the import duty. This ought to go into the 'pocket of the farmer. And if one acre of land will sustain ten sheep, here is a loss of $2 50 per acre, so appropriated, equivalent to the interest on $40, which sum per acre is thus lost, so far as the land is appropriated to sheep raising. F. — Oh, nonsense ! $40, indeed ! P.— All the measure of value, which we have for anything, is the income which it will bring ; that which will bring $6 is worth $100, and that which will bring $2 50 is worth $40. If any man will cause an acre of my land to yield me $2 50 more than it did before, he has, therefore, increased its value $40. Give us a tariff, sir, and this wool will find a market at home, and this $2 50 per acre per annum be saved, be sides the increased wealth resulting from the increased value given to the wool by being manufactured. My knowledge in regard to this increased value of wool is limited, but of cotton I know that, taking the article of sheetings and shirtings, the increased value is about two and a half for one; take finer fabrics, and the increase is in proportion. One hundred hands will, of the former, manufacture five bales a day, or fifteen hundred per annum. It will take three hundred hands to grow the same cotton. Now, our cotton exports are estimated at $70,000,000 per annum. Manufacture it, and the same would be worth in coarse goods $175,000,000. And less than half the additional number of hands required to grow it. will give one hundred "and fifty per cent, of additional value to it by manufacturing it. our country's good. 413 F. — And why is not this sufficient inducement without a tariff, or any increase, to cause our manufactories to flourish ? P. — Because capital and skill are requisite to aid in manu facturing, which cannot be obtained without permanent and ample protection. Give this protection, and you bring the capital and skill ; with sufficient inducement, it remains ; and when fixed and disciplined, it then becomes profitable, and then competition brings down the price of goods ; but with an unstable policy, no matter what may seem to be the in ducement, capital will not be attracted, for five per cent, cer tain, is better than ten per cent, uncertain. A specific duty is certain, but an ad valorem is uncertain, the latter being as variant as the conscience of importers. The time will come, at some future day, when the political philosopher, looking back and seeing that America produced three-fourths of all the cotton of all the world, and nearly all that is good ; that she had food at her doors, which she shipped abroad to feed the manufacturers of this cotton, when the same mouths could have been brought to the cotton and the food, to con sume both by a wise policy, saving two freights across the ocean, and commission and profits indefinite, this philosopher will ask, How was this? what kind of men could have governed America to have suffered such a state of things ? But the men who did it will not be there to answer; or else, perhaps, unable to bear the shame of so apparent a folly, they might feel inclined to adopt Lord Castlereagh's plan, when the simple view by Bonaparte of the folly of his adminis tration made it so manifest that, from remorse and mortifica tion, he cut his throat. We have the materials, and the labor, to make everything we want. Making all w ¦¦¦ want, we must be always in a prosperous condition, cheerful and happy. Our gold would remain among us. Our cotton crop and tobacco, to the amount of seventy millions, would be adding to our wealth 414 our country's good. instead of to the wealth of England. We would have a coasting trade and home commerce greater, in extent infi nitely, than all our foreign commerce. Railroads and im provements of all kinds would go rapidly forward, our lands would rise in value, and our produce would all find a ready and rich market at home. But this would not cut off our foreign commerce. Other countries must and will have our cotton and tobacco; but, if we favor home industry and give it the preference over the foreign, instead of our picking the crumbs from foreign tables, they must be. satisfied with the crumbs from ours. We ask of our government only rea sonable protection; but let that be specific, specific, specific. And then no country on earth can vie with us. If we want evidence of the beneficial effects of protection, look to the result of the tariffs of 1832 and 1842. A prosperity imme diately followed as manifest and palpable as that change which is produced by a rich coat of manure upon a worn-out farm. To the farmer, we would say : — In what manner have your interests been advanced by the free trade policy ? By it Mr. Walker told you, and he is the great free trade apostle, that your exports would be rapid ly increased annually, until, in 1850, they would reach $488,000,000: Has such been the fact ? Most certainly it has not. On the contrary, in proportion to population, from 1848 inclusive, to the present time, our exports have been diminishing. Last year, instead of $488,000,000, they amounted to only a little over $134,000,000. You have then gained nothing by reducing the tariff in 1846. The cotton-planter we would ask — what have you gained ? You have, by shutting up numerous manufactories, turned at least two hundred thousand manufacturers and their de pendents into agriculturists, and thereby thrown more com petition against yourselves, lowering thereby the price of your cotton in consequence of over-production. our country's good. 415 To the common laborer we would say — what have you gained? By stopping the factories, iron furnaces, and other establishments, you are thrown out of employment, and the bread taken from your families. Of our country we would ask — what has been gained by repealing the tariff of 1842, and establishing that of 1846? We would answer — you have " gained a loss" of sixty mil lions of dollars per annum. You have been feeding foreign ers with the bread which of right ought to belong to our own countrymen. As before said, and it cannot be too often repeated, we have given up a certain home market, created by our manu facturers, with the calculation that we would thereby create a greater foreign market for our agricultural products. But in the latter we have been deceived. Our foreign demand has not increased. We have taken foreign manufactures to an immense - amount, calculating that to a corresponding amount would be the demand for our products. But in this we have been deceived; for foreigners have supplied the manufacturers with food, who have taken our home market for manufactures. While this home market has been forfeited, we have thrown more producers into compe tition with the farmer and planter, and by a double process been guilty of a suicidal policy. THE END. LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & GO.'S PUBLICATIONS. NOTICES AND RECOMMENDATIONS OF THE COMPREHENSIVE COMMENTARY. The Publishers select the following from the testimonials they have received as to the value of the work: We, the subscribers, having examined the Comprehensive Commentary, issued from the press of Messrs. L„ G. ot Co., and highly approving its character, would cheerfully and confidently recom mend it as containing more matter and more advantages than any other with which we are ¦ acquainted ; and considering the erpense incurred, and the excellent manner of its mechanical execution, we bebeve it to be one of the cheapest works ever issued from the press. We hope the publishers wdl be sustained by a liberal patronage, in their expensive and useful undertaking. We should be pleased to learn that every family in the United States had procured a copy. B. B. W1SN ER, D. D., Secretary of Am. Board of Com. for For. Missions. WM. COGSWELL. D. D,, " " Education Society. JOHN CODMAN, D. D., Pastor of Congregational Church, Dorchester. « - Rev. HUBBARD W1NSLOW, " " Bowdoin street, Dorcheittl. Rev. SEWALL HARDING, Pastor of T. C. Church, Waltham. Rev. J. H. FAIRCHI LD, Pastor of Congregational Church, South Boston. GARDINER SPRING, D. D., Pastor of Presbyterian Church, New York city. CYRUS MASON, D. D., - ..... , THOS. M'AULEY, D. D., " " " " ¦ JOHN WOODBRIDGE, D. D.. " " " urn THOS. DEWITT, D. D., • " Dutch Ref. " E. W. BALDWIN, D. D., " " " Rev. J. M. M-KREBS, « Presbyterian - " A Rev. ERSKINE MASON, " " • " Rev. J. S. SPENCER, " Brooklyn. EZRA STILES ELY, D. D., Stated Clerk of Gen. Assent, of Presbyterian Church. JOHN M'DOWELL, D. D., Permanent " - JOHN BRECKENRIDGE, Coiresponding Secretary of Assembly's Board of Education. SAMUEL B. WYLIE, D. D., Pastor of the Reformed Presbyterian Church. N. LORD, D. D., President of Dartmouth College. JOSHUA BATES, D. D„ President of Middlebury College. H. HUMPHREY, D-D., " Amherst College. E. D. GRIFFIN, D. l>., " Wilhamstown College. . J. WHEELER, D. D., " University of Vermont, at Burlington. J. M. MATTHEWS, D. D., - New York City University. GEORGE E. PIERCE, D. D., " Western Reserve College, Ohio. Rev. Dr. BROWN, " Jefferson College, Penn. LEONARD WOODS, D. D., Professor of Theology, Andover Seminary. THOS. H. SKINNER, D. D., " Sac. Rhet. » Rev. RALPH EMERSON, " Eccl. Hist. Rev. JOEL PARKER, Pastor of Presbyterian Church, New Orleans. JOEL HA WES, D. D-, " Congregational Church, Hartford, Conn. N. S. S. BEAMAN, D. D., " Presbyterian Church, Troy, N. Y. MARK TUCKER, D. D., •= - « " Rev. E. N. KIRK, " " Albany, N. Y. Rev. E. B. EDWARDS, Editor of Quarterly Observer. Rev. STEPHEN MASON, Pastor First Congregational Church, Nantucket. Rev. ORIN FOWLER, " « ' "Fall River. GEORGE W. BETHUNE, D. D., Pastor of the First Reformed Dutch Church, Phdaila. Rev. LYMAN BEECHER, D. D., Cincinnati, Ohio. Rev. C. D. MALLORY, Pastor Baptist Church, Augusta, Ga. Rev. S. M. NOEL, * Frankfort, Ky. From the Professors at Princeton TheolOffical Seminary. The Comprehensive Commentary contains the whole of Henry's Exposition in a condensed form Scott's Practical Observations and Marginal References, and a large number of very valuable philo logical and critical notes, selected from various authors. The work appears to be executed wild judgment, fidelity, and care ; and will furnish a rich treasnre of scriptural knowledge to the Biblical student, and to the teachers of Sabbath-Schools and Bible Classes. A. ALEXANDER, D D. SAMUEL MILLER, D. D CHARLES HODGE. D D LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. t Companion to tjn 95ibW. In one super-royal volume. DESIGNED TO ACCOMPANY THE FAMILY BIBLE, OR HENRY'S, SCOTT'S, CLARKE'S, GILL'S, OR OTHER COMMENTARIES: CONTAINING 1. A new, full , and complete Concordance; Illustrated with monumental, traditional, and oriental engravings, founded on Butterworth's, with Cruden's definitions ; forming, it is believed, on many accounts, a more valuable work than eithet Bfttterworth, Cruden, or any other similar book in the language. The value of a Concordance is now generally understood ; and those who have used one, con sider it indispensable in connection with the Bible. 2. , A Guide to the Reading and Study of the Bible ; being Carpenter's valuable Biblical Companion, lately published in London, containing a complete history of the Bible, and forming a most excellent introduction to its study. It embraces the evi dences of Christianity, Jewish antiquities, manners, customs, arts, natural history, &x., of the Bible, with notes and engravings added. 3. Complete Biographies of Henry, by Williams; Scott, by his son ; Doddridge, by Orton ; with sketches of the lives and characters, and notices of the works, of the writers on the Scriptures who are quoted in the Commentary, living and dead, American and foreign. Tlus part of the volume not only affords a large quantity of interesting and useful reading for pious families, but will also be a source of gratification to all those who are in the habit of consult ing the Commentary ; every one naturally feoltng a desire to know some particulars of the lives and characters of those whose opinions he seeks. Appended to this part, will be a BIBLIOTHECA BIBLICA, or list of the best works on the Bible, of aU kinds, arranged under their appropriate heads. 4. A complete Index of the Matter contained in the Bible Text. 5. A Symbolical Dictionary. K very comprehensive and valuable Dictionary of Scripture Symbols, {occupying about fifty-six closely printed pages,) by Thomas Wemyss, {author of "Biblical Gleanings," &c.) Comprising Daubnz, Lancaster, Hutcheson, e used as a companion to the Comprehensive or any other Commentary, or the 'Holy Bible. THE ENGRAVINGS In this volume, it is believed, will form no small part of its attractions. No pains have been spared to procure such as should embellish the work, and, at the same time, illustrate the text. Objec tions that have been made to the pictures commonly introduced into the Bible, as being mere crea tions of fancy and the imagination, often unlike nature, and frequently conveying false impressions, cannot be urged against the pictorial illustrations of this volume. Here the fine arts are made subservient to utility, the landscape views being, without an exception, matter-of-fact views of places mentioned in Scripture, as they appear at the present day; thus in many instances exhibiting, in the most forcible manner, to the eve, the strict and literal fulfilment of the remarkable prophecies; "the present ruined and desolate condition of the cities of Babylon, Nineveh, Selah, &c, and the coun tries of Edom and Egypt, u re astomslung examples, and so completely exemplify, in the most minute particulars, every thing which was foretold of them in th» height of their prosperity, that no better description can now tte given of tliem than a simple quotation from a chapter and versa of the Bible written nearly two or three thuusaud years ago " The publishers are enabled to select from several collections lately published in London, the proprietor of one of which says that "seve ral distinguished travellers have afforded him the use of nearly Three Hundred Onamal Sketches" of Scripture places, made upon the spot. 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Price One Dollar. 4 LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. LIPPINCOTT'S EDITION "OF BAGSTER'S COMPREHENSIVE BIBLE. In order to develops the peculiar nature of the Comprehensive Bible, it will only be necessury to embrace its more prominent features. 1st. The SACRED TEXT is that of the Authorized Version, and is printed from the edition cor rected and improved by Dr. Blaney, wluch, from its accuracy, is considered the standard edition. 2d. The VARIOUS READINGS are faithfully printed from the edition of Dr. Blaney, inclusive of the translation of the proper names, without the additiun or diminution of one. 3d. In the CHRONOLOGY, great care has been taken to fix the dato of the particular transac tions, which has seldom been done with any degree of exactness in any former edition of the Bible. 4th. The NOTES are exclusively philological and explanatory, and are not tinctured with senti ments of. any sect or party. They are selected from the most eminent Biblical critics and com mentators. It is hoped that this edition of the Holy Bible will be found to contain the essence of Biblical research and criticism, that lies dispersed through an immense number of volumes. Such is the nature and design of this edition of the Sacred Volume, which, from the various objects-it embraces, the freedom of its pages from all sectarian peculiarities, and the beauty, plain- aess, and correctness of the typography, that it cannot fail of proving acceptable and useful to Christians of every denomination. In addition to the usual references to parallel passages, which are quite full and numerous, the student has all the marginal readings, together with a rich selection of Philological, Cnticat, Histo rical, Geographical, and other valuable notes and remarks, which explain and illustrate the sacred text. Besides the general introduction, containing valuable essays on the genuineness, authenticity, and inspiration of the Holy Scriptures, and other topics of interest, there are introductory and con cluding remarks to each book— a table of the contents of the Bible, by which the different portions are so arranged as to read in an historical order. Arranged at the top of each page is the period in which the prominent events of sacred history took place. The calculations are made for the year of the world before and after Christ, Julian Period, the year of the Olympiad, the year of the building of Rome, and other notations of time. At the close is inserted a Chronological Index of the Bible, according to the computation of Arch bishop Ussher. Also, a full and valuable index of the subjects contained in the Old and New Testa ments, with a careful analysis and arrangement of texts under their appropriate subjects. Mr. Greenfield, the editor of this work, and for some time previous to his death the superintend ent of the editorial department of the British and Foreign Bible Society, was a most extraordinary man. In editing the Comprehensive Bible, his varied and extensive learning was called into suc cessful exercise, and appears in happy combination with sincer*1 piety and a sound judgment. The Editor of the Christian Observer, alluding to this work, in an obituary notice of its author, speaks of it as a work of " prodigious labour and research, at once exhibiting his varied talents aud pro found erudition." LIPPINCOTT'S EDITION OF THE OXFORD QUARTO BIBLE. The Publishers have spared neither care nor expense in their edition of the Bible ; it is printed m the finest white vellum paper, with large and beautiful type, and bound in the most substantial and splendid manner, in the following 6tyles : Velvet, with richly gilt ornaments ; Turkey super extra, with gilt clasps ; and in numerous others, to suit the taste of the most fastidious. OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. "In our opinion, the Christian public generally will feel under great obligations to the publisher* of this work for the beautiful taste, arrangement, and delicate neatness with which they have got it out. The intrinsic merit of the Bible recommends itself; it needs no tinsel ornament to adorn its sacred pages. In this edition every superfluous ornament has been avoided, and we have pre sented us a perfectly chaste specimen of the Bible, without note or comment, it appears to be just what is needed in every family— 'the unsophisticated word of God.' " The size is quarto, printed with beautiful type, on white, sized vellum paper, of the finest texture and most beautiful surface. The publishers seem to have been solicitous to make a perfectly unique book, and they have accomplished the ohject very successfully. We trust that a liberal community will afford them ample remuneration for all the expense and outlay they have nee*!** rily incurred in its publication. It is a standard Bible. „,..,¦, "The publishers are Messrs. Lippincott, Grambo & Co., No. U North Fourth street, Philadel phia. " — Baptist Record. "A oeautiful quarto edition of the Bible, by L„ G. & Co. Nothing onn exceed the type in cien.r ness aud beauty; the paoer is of the finest texture, ami the whole execution is exceedingly neat No illustrations or ornamental type are used. Those who prefer a Bible executed m perfect sim plicity, yet elegance of style, without adornment, will probably never find one more to their ta&t? — M. Magazine. LIPPINCOTT, GltAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. LIPPINCOTT'S EDITIONS OF THE HOLY BIBLE. SIX DIFFERENT SIZES, Printed in the best manner, with beautiful type, on the finest sized paper, and bound in the most splendid and substantial styles. Warranted to be correct, and equal to the best English editions, at much less price. To be had with or without plates ; the publishers having supplied themselves with over fifty steel engravings, by the first artists. Baxter's Comprehensive Bible, Royal quarto, containing the various readings and marginal notes ; disquisitions on the genuineness, authenticity, and inspiration of the Holy Scriptures ; introductory and concluding remarks to each book; philological and explanatory notes ; table ot contents, arranged in historical order; a chro nological index, and various other matter; forming a suitable book for the study of clergymen, Sabbath-school teachers, and students. In neat plain binding, from 8 1 00 to $5 00. —In Turkey morocco, extra, gilt edges, from (8 00 to 112 00. — In do., with splendid plates. 110 00 to $15 00. —In do., bevelled side, gilt clasps and Uh> mmations, 1 15 00 to $25 00. The Oxford Quarto Bible, Without note or comment, universally admitted to be the most beautiful Bible extant. In neat plain binding, from * 1 00 to $5 00. — In Turkey morocco, ext ra, gdt edges, S8 00 to f 12 00, — In do., with steel engravings, 810 00 to $15 00. — In do., clasps, Ac, with plates and illumina tions, $15 00 to $25 00. — In nch velvet, with gilt ornaments, $25 00 to (50 00. Crown Octavo Bible, Printed with large clear type, making a most convenient hand Bible for family use. In neat plain binding, from 75 cents to $1 50. — In English Turkey morocco, gilt edges, $1 00 to 82 00. — In do., imitation, &c, $1 50 to $3 00. — In do., clasps, Ate, »2 50 to $5 00.— In rich velvet, with gilt ornaments, $5 00 to 910 CO. The Sunday-School Teacher's Polyglot Bible, with Maps, &c., In neat plain binding, from 60 cents to 81 00. — In imitation gilt edge, $1 00 to $1 50.— In Turkey, super extra, $1 75 to 82 25. — In do. do., with clasps, $2 60 to 13 75. — In velvet, rich gilt orna ments, 33 50 to $8 00. The Oxford 18mo.; or Pew Bible, In neat plain binding, from 50 cents to tl 00. — In imitation gilt edge, $1 00 toll 50. — InTorkey super extra. 1 1 75 to $2 25. — In do. do., with clasps, 12 50 to $3 75. — In velvet, rich gilt ona ments, *3 50 to $8 00. _^-- - , Agate 32mo. Bible, Printed with larger type than any oth^r small or pocket edition extant. In neat plain binding, from 50 cents to $1 00. — In tucks, or pocket-book style, 75 cents to $1 00.- In roan, imitation gilt edge, $1 00 to $1 50. — In Turkey; super extra, $1 00 to $2 00. — la do. de gilt clasps, $2 50 to «3 50. — In velvet, with rich gilt ornaments, 13 00 to $7 00. 32mo. Diamond Pocket Bible; The neatest, smallest, and cheapest edition of the Bible published In neat plain binding, from 30 to 50 cents. —In tucks, or pocket-book style, 60 cents to 81 00.- In roan, imitation gilt edge, 75 cents to $1 25. — In Turkey, super extra, $1 00 to $1 50. — In do. do gilt cLasps, $1 50 to $2 00.— In velvet, with richly gilt ornaments, $2 50 to $6 00. CONSTANTLY ON HAND, A large assortment of UUJLES, bound in the most splendid and costly styles', with gold and sQvei ornaments, suitable for presentation ; ranging in price from $10 00 to 6100 00. A liberal discount made to Booksellers and Agents by the Publishers. ENCYCLOP/EDIA OF RELIGIOUS KNOWLEDGE; '" "" "~ , " the BIBLE, THEOLOGY, REL'GIOUS BIOGRAPHY, ALL RELIGIONS', or., DICTIONARY a. , , •''IASTICAL HISTORY, AN? MISSIONS. E06bnr .^ on n]1 Ee]ig)oU!. sutjjec>«, and Companion to the Biblej Designed as a complete Book of RefclWjj. ^, KnowieljKe. Ea.ted by Rev. J. Newton Brown. U'.usl Price. 1-1 Otl. rliean nnd compact Library oi lit is...'- -per an(j steel [n one volume, royal 8vo. 6 ssir^*-"^^ LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. Lippmcott's Standard Editions of THE BOOK OF COMMON PRAYER, IN SIX DIFFERENT SIZES. ILLUSTRATED WITH A NUMBER OF STEEL PLATES AND ILLUMINATIONS. OOMPREHENDINa THE MOST VARIED AND SPLENDID ASSORTMENT IN THE UNITED STATES. THE ILLUMINATED OCTAVO PRAYER-BOOK, Printed in seventeen different colours of ink, and illustrated with a number of Steel Hates and Illuminations; making one of the most splendid books published. To be had in any variety of the most superb binding, ranging in prices. In Turkey, super extra, from $5 00 to $8 00. — In do. do., with clasps, $6 00 to $10 00.— In do. do., bevelled and panelled edges, $8 00 to (15 00.— In velvet, richly ornamented, $12 00 to $20 00. 8vo. In neat plain binding, from 81 50 to 82 00. — In imitation gilt edge, 12 00 to 83 00. —In Turkey, super extra, 82 50 to 84 50.— In do. do., with clasps, 83 00 to 85 00.— In velvet, richly gilt orna ments, 85 00 to 812 00. 16mo. Printed throughout with large and elegant type. In neat plain binding, from 75 cents to $1 50.— In Turkey morocco, extra, with plates, $1 75 to $3 00. —In do. do., with plates, clasps, 4ic., $2 50 to $5 00. — In velvet, with richly gilt ornaments, 14 00 to $9 00. 18mo. In neat plain binding, from 25 to 75 cents. — In Turkey morocco, with plates, $1 25 to 82 00. — In velvet, with richly gilt ornaments, $3 00 to $8 00. 32mo. A beautiful Pocket Edition, with large type. In neat plain binding, from 50 cents to $1 00.— In roan, imitation gilt edge, 75 cents to 81 50.— In Turkey.super extra, 81 25 to $2 00.— In do. do., gilt clasps, 82 00 to $3 00.— In velvet, with richly gilt ornaments, $3 00 to $7 00. 32mo., Pearl type. In plain binding, from 25 to 37 1-2 cents. — Roan, 37 1-2 to 50 cents. — Imitation Turkey, 50 cent! to $1 00. —Turkey, super extra, with gilt edge, $1 00 to $1 50. —Pocket-book style, 60 to 75 cents. PROPER LESSONS. 18mo. A BEATJTIFUJ. EDITION, WITH LARGE TYPE. In neat plain binding.from 50 cents to 81 00.— In roan, imitation gilt edge, 75 cents to 81 50.— In Turkey, super extra, 81 50 to 82 00. — In do. do., gilt clasps, 82 50 to 83 00. — In velvet, with richly gilt ornaments, 83 00 to 87 00. THE BIBLE AND PRAYER-BOOK, In one neat and portable' volume. 32mo., in neat plain binding, from 75 cents to 81 00. — In imitation Turkey, 81 00 to 81 50. —In Turkey, super extra, 81 50 to 82 50. 18mo, in large type, plain, 81 75 to 82 50. — In imitation, 81 00 to 81 75.— In Turkey, super extra, 81 75 to 83 00. Also, with clasps, velvet, &.c. UUl COLLECTED AND PREPARED UNDER THE DIRECTION OF THE BUREAU OP INDIAN AFFAIRS, PER ACT OF MARCH 3, 1847, BIT HEHH? a. SCHOOLCBAPT, LL.D. ILLUSTRATED BY S. EASTMAN, Capt. 'U. S. A. PUBLISHED BY AUTHORITY OP CONGRESS. . THE AMERICAN GARDENER'S CALENDAR, ADAPTED TO THE CLIMATE AND SEASONS OF THE UNITED STATES. Containing a complete account of all the work necessary to be done in the Kitchen Garden , Fruit Garden, Orchard, Yineyard, Nursery, Pleasure-Ground, Flower Garden, Green-house, Hot-house, and Forcing Frames, for every month in the year ; with ample Practical Directions for performing the same. Also, general as well as minute instructions for laying out or erecting each and every of the abovo departments, according to modern taste and the most approved plans j the Ornamental Planting of Pleasure Grounds, in the ancient and modern style; the cultivation of Thorn Quicks, and other plants suitable for Live Hedges, with the best methods of making them, &c. To which are annexe catalogues of Kitchen Garden Plants and Herbs; Aromatic, Pot, and Sweet Herbs; Medicinal Plants, and the most important Grapes, -ix., used in rural economy; with the soil best adapted which is added, A PRIZE ESSAY ON MULES; and AN APPENDIX, containing Recipes to, Diseases of Horses, Oxen, Cows, Calves, Sheep, Dogs, Swine, &c. &o. ; with Annals of the Turf, American Stud-Book, Rules for Training, Racing, ias WITH A SUPPLEMENT, Comprising an Essay on Domestic Animals, especially the Horse ; with Remarks on Treatment anu •reeding ; together with Trotting and Racing Tables, sho« ing the best time on record at on» two, three and four mile heats ; Pedigrees of Winning Horses, since 1839, and of the moat celebrated Stallions and Mares ; with usefal Calving and Lambing Tables. By J. S. SKINNER, Editor now of the Farmer's Library, New York, Ix. to B 13 LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PCBLICATIONS. HINDS'S FARRIERY AND STUD-BOOK-NEW EDITION. FARMERY, TAUGHT ON A NEW AND EASY PLAN: BEING I €twtim u % DisriiES niA irritate nf t{p Ira; *ilh Instructions to the Shoeing Smith, Farrier, and Groom ; preceded by a Popular Description 01 'be Animal Functions in Health, and how these are to be restored when disordered. BY JOHN HINDS, VETERINARY SURGEON. With considerable Additions and Improvements, particularly adapted to this country, BY THOMAS M. SMITH. Veterinary Surgeon, and Member of the London Veterinary Medical Society. WITH A SUPPLEMENT, BY J. S. SKINNER. The publishers lutve received numerous flattering notices of the great practical value of these works. The distinguished editor of the American Farmer, speaking of them, observes:— "We cannot too highly recommend these books, and therefore advise every owner of a horse to obtain them." "There are receipts in those books that show how Founder may be cured, and the traveller pur sue his journey the next day, by giving a tablespoonful of alum. This was got from Dr. P. Thornton. ofMontpelier, Rappahannock county, Virginia, as founded on his own observation in several cases." " The constant demand for Mason's and Hinds's Farrier has induced the publishers, Messrs. Lip pincott, Grambo &, Co., to pat forth new editions, with a 'Supplement' of 100 pages, by J. S. Skinner, Esq. We should have sought to render an acceptable service to our agricultural readers, by giving a chapter from the Supplement, 'On the Relations between Man and the Domestic Animals, espe cially the Horse, and the Obligations they impose ;' or the one on ' The Form of Animals ;' but that either one of them would overrun the space here allotted to such subjects." " lists of Medicines, and other articles which ought to be at hand ahout every training and livery ¦table, and every Farmer's and Breeder's establishment, will be found in these valuable works." TO CARPENTERS AND .MECHANICS. Just Published. A NEW AND IMPROVED EDITION OP THE CARPENTEB'S NEW GUIDE, BEING) A COMPLETE BOOK OF LINES FOB AEPENTHU ACTD JOIMEBY; Treating fully on Practical Geometry, SamVs Brick and Plaster Groins, Niches of every description. Sky-lights, Lines for Roofs and Domes ; with a great variety of Designs for Roots, Trussed Girders, Floors, Domes, 3ndges, S2 CO. is ; LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. LONZ POWERS; Or, The Regulators. A ROMANCE OF KENTUCKY. FOUNDED ON PACTS. BY JAMES WEIR, ESQ. IN TWO VOLUMES. The scenes, characters, and incidents in these volumes have been copied from nature, and from teal life. They are represented as taking place at that period in the history of Kentucky, when the Indian, driven, after many a hard-fought field, from his favourite hunting-ground, was succeeded by a rude and unlettered population, interspersed with organized bands of desperadoes, scarcely less savage than the red men they had displaced. The author possesses a vigorous and graphic pen, and has produced a very interesting romance, which gives us a sink ing portrait of the times he describes. A PRACTICAL TREATISE ON BUSINESS; OR, HOW TO GET, SAVE, SPEND, GIVE, LEND, AND BEQUEATH MONEYi WITH AN INQTJIKY INTO THE CHANCES OF SUCCESS AND CAUSES OF FAILURE IN BUSINESS. BY EDWIN T. FREEDLY. Also, Prize Essays, Statistics, Miscellanies, and numerous private letters from successful and distinguished business men. 12mo., cloth. Price One Dollar. The object of this treatise is fourfold. First, the elevation of the business character, and to define clearly the limits, within which it is not only proper but obligatory to get money. Secondly, to lay down the principles which must be observed to insure success, and what must be avoided to escape failure^ Thirdly, to give the mode of management in certain prominent pursuits adopted by the most successful, from which men in all kinds of business may derive profitable hints. Fourthly, to afford a work of solid interest to those who read without expectation of pecuniary benefit. A MANUAL OF POLITENESS, COMPRISING THE PRINCIPLES OF ETIQUETTE AND RULES OF BEHAVIOUR IN GENTEEL SOCIETY, FOR PERSONS OF BOTH SEXES. 18mo., with Plates. ^ Book of Politeness. THE GENTLEMAN AND LADY'S BOOK OF POLITENESS AND PROPRIETY OF DEPORTMENT DEDICATED TO THE YOUTH OE BOTH SEXES. BY MADAME CELHAET. Translated from the Sixth Paris Edition, Enlarged and Improved. Fifth American Edition. One volume, 18rao. THE ANTEDILUVIANS; Or, The World Destroyed. A NARRATIVE POEM, IN TEN BOOKS. BY JAMES M'HENRY, M.D. One volume, 13mo LIPPiNCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. Bennett's (Rev. John) Letters to a Young Lady, ON A VARIETY OF SUBJECTS CALCULATED TO IMPROVE THE HEART, TO FORM TilE MANNERS, AND ENLIGHTEN THE UNDERSTANDING. " That our daughters may be as polished corners of the temple." The publishers sincerely hope {for the happiness of mankind) that a copy of this valuable little work will be found the companion of every young lady, as much of the happiness of every family depends on the proper cultivation of the female mind. THE DAUGHTER'S OWN BOOK: OR, PRACTICAL HINlS FROM A FATHER TO HIS DAUGHTER. One volume, 18mo. This is one of the most practical and truly valuable treatises on the culture and discipline of the female mind, which has hitherto been published in this country ; and the publishers are very confi dent, from the great demand for this invaluable little work, that ere long it will be found in the library of every young; lady. THE AMERICAN CHESTERFIELD: Or, "Youth's Guide to the Way to Wealth, Honour, and Distinction/' fc. lflmo. CONTAINING ALSO A COMPLETE TEEATISE ON THE AET OF CAEVING. "We most cordially recommend the American Chesterfield to general attention; but to young persons particularly, as one of the best works of the kind that has ever been published in this country. It cannot be too highly appreciated, nor its perusal be unproductive of satisfaction and usefulness." SENECA'S MORALS. BY WAY OF ABSTRACT TO WHICH IS ADDED, A DISCOURSE UNDER THE TITLE OP AN AFTER-THOUGHT. BY SIR ROGER L'ESTRANGE, KNT. A Dew, fine edition ; one volume, 18mo. t A copy of this valuable little work should be found in every family library. NEW SONG-BOOK. dkigp lout^m anfr Wwlim longer; BKING A CHOICE COLLECTION OF THE MOST FASHIONABLE SONGS, MANY OF WHICH ARE ORIGINAL. In one volume, 18mo. Great care was taken, in the selection, to admit no song that contained, in the slightest degree any indelicate or improper allusions; and with great propriety it may claim the title of " The far- Inur Song-Book, or Songster." The immortal Shakspeare observes — " The man that hath not music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet Bounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils." ROBOTHAM'S POCKET FRENCH DICTIONARY, CAREFULLY REVISED, AND THE PRONUNCIATION OF ALL THE DIFFICULT WORDS ADDED 20 LIPPINCOTT, GEAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. THE LIFE AND OPINIONS OF TRISTRAM SHANDY, GENTLEMAN. COMPRISING THE HUMOROUS ADVENTURES OP UNCLE TOBY AND CORPORAL TRIM. BV L. STERN'S. Beautifully Illustrated by Darlcy. Stitched. A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY. BY L. S.TBRNE. Illustrated as above by Darlcy. Stitched. The beauties of this author are so well known, and his errors in style and expression so lew and far between, that one reads with lenewed delight his delicate turns, . Eff XT C£XEX.I>, A.. JVC., 3M.B-, Prof, of the Theory and Practice of Medicine in the Philadelphia College of Medicine, &c, 1 vol. 8m THE THEORY AND PRACTICE OF SURGERY. By Geoegb M'Clellah, M. D. 1 vol. 8vo. EBERLE'S PRACTICE OF MEDICINE. New Edition. Improved by GEORGE M'CLELLAN, M. D. Two volumes in 1 voL 8vo. EBERLE'S THERAPEUTICS. TWO VOLUMES IN ONE. A TREATISE ON THE DISEASES AND PHYSICAL EDUCATION OF CHILDREN, By JOHN EBEELE, M, D., ic. Fourth Edition. With Notes and very larse Additions, By Thomas D. Mitchell, A. M., M. D., &c. 1 vol. 8vo. EBERLE'S NOTES FOR STUDENTS— NEW EDITION, •*• These works are used as text-books in most of the Medical Schools in the United States. A PRACTICAL TREATISE ON POISONS: Their Symptoms, Antidotes, and Treatment. By 0. H. Coatill, M. D. 18mo. IDENTITIES OF LIGHT AND HEAT, OF CALORIC AND ELECTRICITY, BY C. CAMPBELL COOPER. UNITED STATES'ThARMACOPEIA, Edition of 1851 Published by authority of th« National Medical Convention. 1 VoL S» LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. SCHOOLCRAFTS GREAT NATIONAL WORK ON THE InMati bribes nf tjje Enllth $tnt*a. PART SECOND— QUARTO. WITH EIGHTY BEAUTIFUL ILLUSTRATIONS ON STEEL, Engraved in the first style of the art, from Drawings by Captain Eastman, U. S. A. PRICE, FIFTEEN DOLLARS. COCKBURN'S LIFE OF LORD JEFFREY. LIFE OP LOKD JEFFREY, BY LORD COCOURN, One of the Judges of the Court of Sessions in Scotland. Two volumes, demi-octavo. " Those who know Lord Jeffrey only through the pages of the Edinburgh Review, get but a one sided, and not the most pleasant view of his character." " We advise our readers to obtain the book, and enjoy it to the full themselves. They will unite with us in saying that the self-drawn character portrayed in the letters of Lord Jeffrey, is one of the most delightful pictures that has ever been presented to them." — Evening Bulletin. "Jeffrey was for a long period editor of the Review, and was admitted by all the other contribu tors to be the leading spirit in it. In addition to his political articles, he soon showed his wonderful powers of criticism in literature. He was equally at home whether censuring or applauding; in his onslaughts on the mediocrity of Southey, or the misused talents of Byron, or in his noble esstyi on Shakspeare, or Scott, or Burns."— New York Express. PRICE, TWO DOLLARS AND A HALF. ROMANCE OF NATURAL HISTORY; OR, WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS. WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS, IN ONE VOLUME OCTAVO, CLOTH. BY C. W. WEBBER. " We have rarely read a volume so full of life and enthusiasm, so capable of transporting the reader into an actor among the scenes and persons described. The volume can hardly be openec » at any page without arresting the attention, and the reader is borne along with the movement of ft style whose elastic spring and life knows no weariness."' — Boston Courier and Transcript. PRICE, TWO DOLLARS. THE LIFE OF WILLIAM PENN, WITH SELECTIONS FROM HIS CORRESPONDENCE AND AUTOBIOGRAPHY* BY SAMUEL M. JANNEY. Second Edition, Revised. " Our author has acquitted himself in a manner worthy of his subject. HU style is easy, flowing, ^nd yet sententious. Altogether, we consider it a highly valuable addition to the literature of our age, and a work that should find its way into the library of every Friend."— Friends' Intelligencer, Philadelphia. "We regard this life of the great founder of Pennsylvania as a valuable addition to the literature of the country." — Philadelphia Evening Bulletin. "We have no hesitation in pronouncing Mr. Janney's life of Penn the best, because the most satisfactory, that has yet been written. The author's style is clear and uuinvolved, and well suited .to the purposes of biograpliical narrative."— LouisuiVf. Journal. PRICE, TWO DOLLARS. 28 LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. LIPPINCOTT'S CABINET HISTORIES OF THE STATES, CONSISTING OP A SERIES OP Cabinet Histories of all the States of the Union, TO EMBRACE A VOLUME FOTt EACH STATE. We have so far completed all our arrangements, as to be able to issue the whole series in tho shortest possible time consistent with its careful literary production. SEVERAL VOLUMES ARE NOW READY FOR SALE. The talented aulhors who have engaged to write these Histories, are no strangers in the literary world. % NOTICES OF THE PRESS. "These most tastefully printed and bound volumes form the first instalment of a series of State Histories, which, without superseding the bulkier and more expensive works of the same charac ter, may enter household channels from which the others would be excluded by their cost and magnitude." "In conciseness, clearness, skill of arrangement, and graphic interest, they are a most excellent earnest of those to come. They are eminently adapted both tb interest and instruct, and should nave a place in the family library of every American."— N. Y. Courier and Enquirer. " The importance of a series of State History like those now in preparation, can scarcely be esti mated. Being condensed as carefully as accuracy and interest of narrative will permit, the size and price of the volumes will bring them within the reach of every family in the countiy, thus making them home-reading books for old and young. Each individual will, in consequence, become familiar, not only with the history of his own State, but with that of the other States ; thus mutual interests will be re-awakened, and old bonds cemented in a firmer re-union."— Home Gazette. NEW THEMES FOR THE PROTESTANT CLERGY; CREEDS WITHOUT CHARITY, THEOLOGY WITHOUT HUMANITY, AND PROTESTANT ISM WITHOUT CHRISTIANITY: With Notes by the Editor on the Literature of Charity, Population, Pauperism, Political Economy, and Protestantism. "The great question which the book discusses is, whether the Church of this age is what the primitive Church was, and whether Christians— both pastors and -people— are doing their duty. Our anthor believes not, and, to our mind, he has made out a strong case. He thinks there is abundant room for reform at the present time, and that it is needed almost as much as in the days of Luther. And why? Because, in his own words, ' While one portion of nominal Christians have busied themselves with forms and ceremonies and observances ; with pictures, images, and processions; others have given to doctrines the supremacy, and have busied themselves in laying down the lines by which to enforce human belief— lines of interpretation by which to control human opinion* —lines of discipline and restraint, by which to bring human minds to uniformity of faith and action. They have formed creeds and catechisms ; they have spread themselves over the whole field of the sacred writings, and scratched up all the surface ; they have gathered all the straws, and turned pver all the pebbles, and detected the colour and determined the outline of every stone and tree and shrub ; they have dwelt with rapture upon all' that was beautiful and sublime ; but they have trampled over mines of golden wisdom, of surpassing richness and depth, almost without a thought, • and almost without an effort to fathom these priceless treasures, much less to tako possessiou of them.*" "- PRICE, ONE DOLLAR, SIMPSON'S MILITARY JOURNAL. JOURNAL OF A MILITARY RECONNOISSANCE FROM SANTA FE, NEW MEXICO, TO THE NAVAJO COUNTRY, BY JAMES H. SIMPSON, A.M., FIRST LIEUTENANT CORPS OF TOPOGRAPHICAL ENGINEERS. WITH SEVENTY-FIVE COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONS. One volume, octavo. Price, Three Dollars. e* 29 LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. TALES OF THE SOUTHERN BORDER. BY C. W. WEBBER. ONE VOLUME OCTAVO, HANDSOMELY ILLUSTRATED. The Hunter Naturalist, a Romance of Sporting; OR, WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS, BY C. W. WEBBER, Author of " Shot in the Eye," " Old Hicks the Guide," " Gold Mines of the Gila," 4c. ONE VOLUME, ROYAL OCTAVO. IIUSTRATED WITH FORTY BEAUTIFUL ENGRAVINGS, FROM ORIGINAL DRAWINGS, MANY OF WHICH ARE COLOURED. Price, Five Dollars. NIGHTS IN A BLOCK-HOUSE; OR, SKETCHES OF BORDER LIFE, Embracing Adventures among the Indians, Feats of the Wild Hunters, and Exploits of Boone* Brady, Kenton, WhetzeL, Fleehart, and other Border Heroes of the West. BY HENRY C. WATSON, Author of "Camp-Fires of the Revolution," WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS. One volume, 8vo. Price, $2 00. HAMILTON, THE YOUNG ARTIST. BY AUGUSTA BROWNE. WITH AN ESSAY ON SCULPTURE AND PAINTING, BY HAMILTON A. C, BROWNE. 1 vol. 18mo. Price, 37 1-2 cents. 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